#Coming out of Lockdown 1

[lipstickontheglass1985]

the upside definitely is that its physically impossible to feel lonely under these conditions. which considering the wave of loneliness im usually feeling around november is awesome. yayy 👍

[newtness532]

okay i need to find something to crochet or knit or sth cause i really cant spend one more day just sitting in my bed doing nothing

[charmac]

i saw you’re updating your 5+1 soon, yes? i’m so excited!!

It is in the works...I've had trouble siting down and putting my mind to anything for awhile but I am determined to lock in for this chapter...which is set during lockdown (haha, see what I did there?)

Well this is what you might call the pitch..or the write up, basically close to final form really:

No, I'm kidding. I do not remember writing the Covid makes you gay thing lol but it will be set in the early months of the Pandemic and kinda filling in the gap from the beginning of the lockdown to before the Election stuff covered in 2020:AYIR. I find that canon dynamic switch insanely interesting, and since this fic is trying to stay close to canon with the addition of *they've been fucking the entire goddamn time* it seems only logical to make those gay wannabe pop star cowboys get drunk on tequila and fuck it out.

I'm glad there are fans of this one out there! It's a lot of fun for me to try and write out their canon dynamic in this way and I've really been jonesing to write my own lockdown fic for awhile now, so as the ideas are bouncing around in my brain I will spew them out onto paper for anyone who's interested in reading

[christiangeistdorfer]

GÉRARD LARROUSSE, 1977

[qaanngi]

Scrolled to 2020 to try and update the file for Theo's birthday pic (HBD to him 💙) and that really was such a wonderful period for me in terms of drawing 🥲

[tpwrtrmnky]

lockdown

[ID 1: Three-panel comic, first out of four, with crudely drawn stick people.

Panel 1: The sky is blue and peaceful, with some clouds. Someone says "Ah..."

Panel 2: An orange person with dog ears is laying on the grass.

Orangepup Dogsaturated: "Despite the weirdness, it's nice here.

I think... I'm enjoying my fate as an orangepup dogastur-"

They are interrupted by barking.

Orange: "Huh?"

Panel 3: A green person with dog ears and a tail, who is holding a gun, stands over Orange. There is a tree in the background and some windmills on top of a hill in the distance. The barking continues.

Green: "Comrade Hot Pink is sounding the alarm. Come quick. We're going on lockdown."

Orange: "Huh? What are we-"

Green: "No time. Now."

ID 2: Three panel comic continuing from above.

Panel 1: Orange is led by Green down some stairs from outside.

Orange: "What's going on? Expository doctrine please?"

Green: "It's too dangerous. Safety first, explanation after."

Panel 2: Green shuts a vault door as Orange and a blue person with dog ears and sunglasses, as well as some sort of bandolier and a walkie-talkie, watches. The room is a plain beige with a simple ceiling light.

Green: "There."

Orange: "ok can someone explain now"

Blue: "Allow me."

Panel 3: Zoom in on Blue, who looks down dramatically.

Blue: "You must understand, young Orange. As much as we wish to trust you, there are circumstances where safety for the commune comes first.

We are aware that you have certain... Rhetorical susceptibilities, and so could not risk having you make contact with them."

Orange: "Who? Who are they?"

Blue: "One who destroys discourse."

End ID 2, begin ID 3.

Three panels once again.

Panel 1: A split view of a loft and the bunker. A hot pink person with fluffy ears is speaking on the walkie-talkie, while an onyx-colored person with dog ears and long claws is aiming a rifle out the window.

Hot Pink: "Comrade Blue. Onyx is ready. Do we have majority ethical consent?"

Blue: "Take the shot. If we later vote against, I will take accountability for the decision myself."

Orange: "What"

Panel 2: A view of Onyx staring down the scope of the rifle from outside of the window, as Blue narrates.

"You must understand, Orangepup Dogsaturated.

There are many who despise us. Many who would do anything to see us destroyed."

Panel 3: The narration continues from a view from the outskirts of the farm area. A mountain is in the distance, and a pair of grayscale legs are in the foreground, framed by some tree trunks.

"The horrific lesson we have learned...

Is that there is no low that outsiders can be trusted not to sink to.

And the danger of this interloper lies in their ability to provide others with all the excuses they need to justify their hatred."

Interloper: "I..."

End ID 3, begin ID 4. You know what this image is by now.

Panel 1: The Most Illiterate Person Alive, a grayscale individual wearing a book on their head, emerges from the woods, saying: "I am the most illiterate person ali-"

They are cut off by a view of Onyx pulling the trigger, which results in a view of the bullet going straight through the head of the most illiterate person alive, emerging in a shower of gore.

This continues to be a crudely drawn stick people comic.

Panel 2: Inside the barn loft, Hot Pink and Onyx are contacting the others.

Hot Pink: "Comrade Blue, we've confirmed a direct hit! Target eliminated!"

Onyx: "Wait. There's movement."

The Most Illiterate Person Alive: "Holy.

Fucking.

Shitfuck."

Panel 3: A front view of The Most Illiterate Person Alive, blood seeping out of the hole in the front of their face. They are framed in darkness and surrounded by a menacing red glow.

The Most Illiterate Person Alive: "I cannot believe"

The text color is inverted and changes to a more hostile font.

"You actually thought that you had any chance of killing me?"

End ID.]

Start - Previous - Next

[vanteguccir]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❝ don't overthink, because your mind is very powerful ❞

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❆ - angst ✮ - smut ❀ - fluff

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✦﹒﹒𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑯𝑶𝑻𝑺﹒◌﹒

── ୨୧ !　chamego meu [ ❀ ]

instagram posts

── ୨୧ !　starve and die [ ❀ ]

when Nick and Matt test positive for covid and Chris has to go into lockdown to prevent catching the virus, who will look after them?

── ୨୧ !　watching you read [ ❀ ]

where Y/N read her book while Chris's streaming, but Chris's biggest hobby is watching his girlfriend read.

── ୨୧ !　truth or eat [ ❀ ]

where Y/N participates in the TRUTH OR EAT video from behind the camera.

── ୨୧ !　guess who's who [ ❀ ]

where Y/N participates in the new Sturniolo Triplets tiktok, but doesn't actually appear in it.

── ୨୧ !　sleeping prank [ ❀ ]

where Nick pranks Chris and Y/N while they are sleeping.

── ୨୧ !　texas is so cold [ ❀ ]

where Y/N and the triplets decide to go out for dinner at a pizzeria, but Y/N is cold and Chris becomes her personal heater.

── ୨୧ !　tiktok trends | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 [ ❀ ]

4 times that Y/N and Chris made a couple's trend on tiktok.

── ୨୧ !　can you sing for me? [ ❀ ]

where Y/N is a worldwide famous singer, but her favorite thing in the world is hearing Chris singing just for her.

── ୨୧ !　it's noted [ ❀ ]

where Y/N is part of the Sturniolo Triplets fandom and makes videos about them on TikTok. After years of creating content, one of her videos seems to catch the attention of none other than Chris.

── ୨୧ !　cooking together [ ❀ ]

where Y/N teaches Chris how to cook a typical sweet from her country.

── ୨୧ !　safari girl [ ❀ ]

where Y/N is the tour guide for the Sturniolo Triplets on their safari trip.

── ୨୧ !　her exception [ ❀ ]

where Y/N is shy and Chris loves to tease her for that.

── ୨୧ !　sleepwalker in love [ ❀ ]

where Chris returns home after recording another car video with his brothers and finds his girlfriend sleepwalking in their living room.

── ୨୧ !　best friend's plan [ ❀ ]

where Y/N has a secret crush on Chris, not imagining that the feeling is reciprocated. But her best friend, Nick, has a plan to put them together.

── ୨୧ !　8 minutes of cute moments [ ❀ ]

where a fan made an 8-minute video with a compilation of Chris and Y/N being in love.

── ୨୧ !　baking blind, deaf and mute [ ❆❀ ]

where Y/N participates in the Baking Blind, Deaf and Mute video, but things don't go as planned.

── ୨୧ !　in control [ ✮ ]

where Chris commands Y/N to stay still while he fucks her, but she can't seem to obey.

── ୨୧ !　drunk and in love [ ❀ ]

where Y/N goes out with her friends for a girls' night and comes home drunk, so Chris has to take care of her.

── ୨୧ !　always yours [ ❀ ]

where Y/N and Chris are secretly in love, but Chris is the one that acts shy around her; OR 4 times Chris loved Y/N from afar and 1 time he didn't.

── ୨୧ !　all too well [ ❆❀ ]

where Chris misplace his priorities.

── ୨୧ !　academic validation [ ❆❀ ]

amid relentless academic pressure, Y/N finds herself consumed by the desperate pursuit of perfection in her college. Her obsession with validation leads her to neglect her own basic needs until a sudden accident forces her to confront the reality of her situation, receiving the complete help and support of her boyfriend, Chris.

── ୨୧ !　loving without restrictions [ ❀ ]

where Y/N and Chris have been keeping their relationship a secret for just over a year until one day where Y/N feels ready to announce it; OR, where Y/N and Chris soft launch their relationship.

── ୨୧ !　fake smile [ ❆❀ ]

where Chris records a TikTok with Tara after many requests from both fandoms, but fans reacted contrary to what he expected, generating questioning thoughts in Y/N.

── ୨୧ !　girls like girls and boys [ ❆❀ ]

where Y/N faces a journey of self-discovery when questioning her sexuality. Fearing rejection, she is reluctant to reveal her truth to Chris, her boyfriend. But with the help of Nick, Y/N finds the courage to finally come out as bisexual.

── ୨୧ !　5 cute little moments [ ❀ ]

where Chris is deeply in love with Y/N and isn't ashamed to show it; OR, 5 cute little moments between Chris and Y/N.

── ୨୧ !　labyrinth [ ❆❀ ]

between love and pain, Y/N fights to save the relationship that once brought her and Chris together, but Chris's fear of commitment seems to stop them from moving forward, leading the two to find themselves trapped in a labyrinth of despair and uncertainty.

── ୨୧ !　vogue beauty secrets [ ❀ ]

where the world-famous actress and model, Y/N, is invited by Vogue to record a video of her Beauty Secrets, but during the recording, Chris, her boyfriend, decides to make a brief appearance.

── ୨୧ !　fighting her for a trend [ ❀ ]

where Chris has the idea of doing the famous TikTok trend "fighting my girlfriend in front of my brothers" with Y/N, just to see Nick and Matt's reaction.

── ୨୧ !　apocalypse [ ❀ ]

where Chris takes care of Y/N after they make love.

── ୨୧ !　over again [ ❆❀ ]

Y/N is caught between the past and the present, struggling to overcome her love for Chris while trying to move on with Alex, a kind and understanding man. When Chris reappears in her life, Y/N is forced to confront her feelings and make difficult decisions.

── ୨୧ !　trying and rating bad baby food [ ❀ ]

where Alisson, Chris and Y/N's daughter, makes an appearance in the Trying and Rating Bad Baby Food video.

── ୨୧ !　jealous boy [ ❆❀ ]

where, during a party, a man who doesn't know how to take "no" for an answer hits on Y/N, receiving an angry and jealous Chris in return.

── ୨୧ !　only girl (in the world) [ ❀✮ ]

where Chris takes Y/N for his trip to Las Vegas with his brothers, and amidst the neon lights and late-night wonders, Chris’s and Y/N get lost in love and sin.

── ୨୧ !　holiday echoes [ ❀ ]

where the triplets head back to Boston for the holidays and Chris, a bit drunk and nostalgic, ends up alone on the streets and stops at their old childhood home. Acting without thinking, he writes a small - and very random - note on a napkin and slips it through the door, without realizing Y/N now lives there and is feeling kinda lonely.

── ୨୧ !　soft launch | instagram [ ❀ ]

where Y/N and Chris have been in a stable relationship hidden from the media for years, until they were forced by it to do a soft launch.

── ୨୧ !　birthday boy [ ❆❀ ]

when Chris is starting to come to terms with the horrible idea that he will have to spend his birthday away from Y/N, a surprise takes him, literally, by surprise.

── ୨୧ !　the sexual tension between chris and Y/N [ ❀✮ ]

where a fan creates a 6-minute video with all the sexual tension moments between Chris and Y/N.

── ୨୧ !　too much [ ❆❀ ]

where Matt and Nick say some hurtful things to Chris during a fight, bringing his insecurities to life and causing him to turn to his anchor, Y/N.

All rights reserved © 2024 𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐑. Please do not copy, rewrite, or translate my works on any other platform.

[sweetimpurity]

I Think I'll Keep You 3

Notes: Thank you for your patience and your kindness! I've been finishing school and I'm graduating next week so I'm BUSY! But I love you guys and I hope you enjoy! I recommend rereading the last section of Chapter 2

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 next chapter>>

w.c. 8k. rated p for plot

Miguel storms back to his dorm, across campus, clutching his jacket around his bare torso. Feeling like an absolute idiot for losing his cool. Losing control. What is it about you that makes him act this way?

It’s like you’re trying to knock down the walls he’s built around himself all his life. Running to his building as rain starts to sprinkle, he makes it to the lobby, rushing around, pacing in the elevator getting up to his floor, his mind on total lockdown. As the doors open, he steps out, eyes widening, heart thumping, instantly seeing Peter and a few other teammates down the hall walking his way. Before another thought crosses his mind and before they can spot him, he steps back into the elevator as the doors are closing, slamming on the buttons for the lobby. His heart beating out of his chest. 

It’s starting to pour by the time he gets back downstairs, racing out before anyone he knows will see him. He’s sure they’ll get a bloody nose if anyone tries talking to him now. He keeps his head down, pushing through the doors outside and walking in the freezing rain, running at a certain point, crossing the courtyard and running to the other side of campus towards the athletic building. His Nikes splash in shallow puddles along the uneven parking lot, his dark eyes squinting as rain pelts down from above. His long legs bring him closer to the doors, closer to sanctuary, out of the freezing rain. Soaking his jacket, his hair, dripping down the bridge of his nose, fluttering in his eyelashes. 

He pushes through the doors, sighing audibly in a mixture of relief and annoyance and realizing how fast he was running. He pushes through the next set of doors, walking down the dark hallways of the building. Sneakers squeaking softly on the linoleum as he reaches the team's locker room door. Rain drips down from the curls that flopped onto his forehead and down the nape of his neck. Droplets glistening off his cheeks and his nose as he flicks on one of the locker room lights. He has no idea why he came here. Maybe it’s just the only place no one else is. 

He runs a hand through his hair, slicking it back from the cold rain, a few stray hairs springing out around his face. His mind flashes with images of you. Your smile, the pink tint of your lips, the peachy soft roundness of your cheek. His breath is heavy and his cheeks flushed from the cold. He gets to his locker, figuring maybe he should just… just do anything… 27… his fingers slip over the lock as rain drips from his curls… he could run around the field until he passes out…15… the color of your eyes… he could work on those drills he just gave the team the other day…10… the joint of your hip… the team does have a big game coming up this weekend… the lock won’t unlock… 27… the crook of your neck… he could go back to his dorm and work on that grant proposal he’s been needing to start…15…he could go to the lab and keep working on his thesis project… your gasping whispers of his name… 10… he could go to you right this second and tell you he’s sorry… 27… maybe that would make things better…15… the sound of your whimpers… the pitch of your moans… he could kick a ball around until it fucking pops… holding you close as you come down… 10!!... kissing you as you’re trembling… Why won’t the lock unlock? “Fucking unlock!!” He bellows and tugs on the lock in anger. His anger is blinding, numbing, controlling… his fist slams into the front of his locker. The bang of impact ringing throughout the empty locker room.

Instant pain shoots up his arm but he doesn’t care. He hits the locker again… and then again… and a few more times until the pain is too much to bear. Bang. Bang. BANG! Until his knuckles are worn raw. Punching, beating, denting the big “C” painted on the front of his locker. Captain. Leader. But he feels like a fucking loser. Punch, punch, PUNCH! Until he can’t anymore. “Ah… fuck!” He grunts and clutches his hand. Knuckles busted and fingers tingling hot and numb. “Fuck fuck ah… ngh…” He winces and groans in pain. “Shit…” He sighs and slumps his shoulder against the lockers. His hand throbbing and searing, clutching his hand to his chest in pain. His head rests against his locker, and he can feel the dents from the punches against his arm. Squeezing his eyes shut in pain and trying to stop the tears. Clutching his right hand and beating himself up in his head for being such a baby… for freaking out… for having feelings like this. Even when he’s alone, he won’t let himself cry over this. 

“Ah…” He winces, looking down at his hand, trying to move his fingers but the instant swelling makes it practically impossible. Hissing softly at the pressure and pain between his knuckles. 

Maybe this was necessary. Maybe this was the only way he’d slow the fuck down for one second to get his head on straight. He’s standing there and going over the events of tonight in his head. All that shit with Dana… then seeing you, kissing you, touching you… leaving because he couldn’t bear to listen to what you were saying. It was too much. It was too real. And the kind of conversation he actively tries to avoid. He can hardly remember what you said, it all feels like a blur right now. He can’t even remember what he said right now either. Probably some douchey stuff. “Ow, fuck…” He sighs and winces, holding his hand close to his chest. 

He sits in silence only when he catches his breath enough to suppress the sounds of pure agonizing pain. He feels embarrassed. He thinks you probably hate him now too. You must. How could you not after the shitty things he said. Sighing, he sits down on the bench in the middle of the locker room. His hair still dripping down the back of his neck uncomfortably. 

What the fuck is wrong with me?

He thinks to himself. Watching the purple bloom over his fingers and feeling the searing hot pain. 

Why did I just do that? Freak out. Is it because he knew what you were about to say? That you… you might be in love with him? After all the needy nights, the sneaky meetups and the lazy mornings, why is he so afraid? He can’t help but think of one specific morning... a week before you'd left… after a long night entangled in the sheets.

“You’re so warm…” You had said. Wrapped in his arms after sleeping beside him all night long. Naked and soft in his thick arms. His chest pressed against your back, his head resting in the crook of your neck. He smiled softly to himself, wrapping his arms a little tighter around you. He wanted you to feel warm. He wanted to be the one to warm you. 

“You’re so soft…” He hummed into your neck. Nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You smiled, feeling so wanted, so safe and secure. No one had ever made you feel this way. And Miguel just kept doing it. When you were in his bed, he was always holding you. Always touching you. The sex was usually rough and desperate, and that was good… that was… incredible. But there was something about seeing him like this. Soft and quiet with all his attention on you. You were just dreaming of the day that these hookups would turn into something more. Trying to be patient but feeling like it would happen very soon.

“That tickles…” You whispered, squirming in his grasp as his breath and his lips tickled your neck. “Shhh…” He shushed you ever so softly, encasing you tighter in his arms and grazing his lips all around your neck and your shoulder. Knowing it’s tickling you, that it’s making you squirm. “Hah…” A soft puff of tense air left your lips at the feeling, unable to resist the urge to squirm and escape his tantilizing torture. “So sensitive…” He whispered, his hand coming up to softly grasp your throat, his lips moving up the side of your cheek before going back into the dip of your neck, biting down softly. You’d never experienced something so intimate, so romantic. You just closed your eyes, accepting everything he’s giving as you usually do. Except right now it feels like he’s giving it just to you. It’s for only you to have. His arm that’s under you wrapped around, his fingers teasingly tracing down your hip. 

“Hey, don’t start anything. We both have class soon…” You said with a smile and he nipped at your shoulder. “Mm.” He grumbled defiantly into your neck, breathing in your scent, your shampoo mixed with the sweet smell of your skin. When was he not trying to start something? To fill you up and keep you in his bed all day after having you all night. “You���re not making me late to class again…”  You said softly, still smiling as warmth spread over your cheeks. He smiled as you brought that up again. You just couldn’t seem to let that go. “It was one time…” He hummed playfully. “One too many…” You said with a sort of mischievous smile. “One too many…” He echoed your words in a breathy laugh, scoffing at your teasing. His voice is deep with sleep, fingers brushing down your chest, against your soft plush tummy and to your side, his fingertips pressing pleasantly to the little love-handles at your back, up to your shoulder blades and down your arm, his fingers encasing the back of your hand, so gentle, so soft. You’re still crushing on him hard except this time around he’s fucking you like he owns you and holding you like he made you. He sighed against your neck. 

“You know what’s better than being late?... Staying in bed…” He said all smugly. “You know what’s actually better than being late?... Being on time…” You retorted back and he laughed softly. He can play this game. “You know what’s better than being on time?...... Staying in bed.” He repeated and it made you laugh. “You already said that one!” You pouted, feeling the vibrations of his laughter against your back. “You know what’s better than staying in bed?... Going to class…” You said quick and giggled. It didn’t really mean anything anymore but it was fun and you wanted to win this back and forth. “No way, that’s undeniably incorrect.” He smiled, leaning up on his elbow to look more at your face as you were laughing. You looked so cute. He just couldn’t resist. “You know what’s better than going to class?” He asked and you turned back a bit to look in his eyes. “What.” You brow raised knowing he was about to say something stupid. He really wanted you to stay in bed. He smirked. “Sex with me…” It made you roll your eyes when he said it. You should have known. He smiled and moved to climb more on top of you, looking down right into your eyes. The blush that washed over your cheeks and the way you tried to look so unimpressed. “You know what’s better than sex with me?” He whispered. Was there such a thing? “Sex with you.” 

You looked up into his eyes. The tension got thicker the longer he just looked at you. Your eyes rolled again, trying not to break out into a big smile. He said it so easily. Before you could even form another thought his lips were on yours. His hand coming to your cheek, fingers soft upon your face. He kept it quick, knowing you actually didn’t want to be late for class. He was only teasing. But he kissed you again… and then again. Soft pecks. That kiss he kept doing. Like his lips couldn’t stop coming back for more. Your eyes fluttered open when you realized he’s not stopping. “Mm!” You hummed, pressing softly against his shoulder and he finally relented, pecking your cheek before getting off of you. Chuckling and laying beside you on his stomach, hooking his arm under the cold side of his pillow. 

Your phone buzzed on his bedside table. Catching both of your attention. You picked it up, opening it for the first time this morning. He watched over your shoulder as you unlocked the phone and went to your messages. He tried not to look too much. He did glance at the screen a few times. A certain tension building inside him. Wondering who could be texting you. He wanted to ask, or just outright look at who was texting you but he didn’t want to seem like he cared. His dark eyes flicked to the side of your face, the wisps of hair around your ear and your hairline fanning to your cheek, the slight blush from sleep and his flustering touch. The thought of anyone else seeing you like this, being with you like this…. It made him want to kill any guy who so much as looked your way. Or texted you first thing in the morning…

“My mom is just… driving me crazy…” You sighed and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Your mom?” He managed to say, physically feeling himself relax finding it was just your mother texting you. The knot in his chest unraveling. He remembered you talking about some plans to go home for the weekend. A family reunion type of thing. 

“Yeah she’s… I love her but she gets sort of… crazy when it comes to plans…” You said and sent one last text before setting your phone back on the bedside table. “Well she just probably wants to see you…” He said and it brought a smile to your face. “Yeah… I just feel bad when she tries to take care of everything...” You said softly. Thinking of your mom, the kind of brave and determined woman she’s always been. “I told her, I don’t need anything fancy, I just need to see her and dad and my siblings and that’s it. And we have all the time in the world once I’m there. I mean… until it’s time to come back to school obviously…”

“Yeah…” He said softly, but it sounded like his mind was somewhere else. 

You have a large family. Lots of siblings. And Miguel doesn’t have that. He has one brother of course but he doesn’t even speak to his parents unless he needs to. It was interesting for him to hear about the conversation with your mom and your relationship with her. How you always spoke of your family with such love and tenderness. He’s never experienced anything like that in his life. 

“You have such a…big family.” He said softly. You couldn’t really tell with what tone he was saying it. Whether it was simply an observation, a judgment, or some sort of longing. “I do…” You sighed with a smile. You are the oldest of six which Miguel was flabbergasted to learn. “It’s not something I expected, but once you told me, it made sense.” He stated. And you couldn’t help but be curious as to why he thought that. You turned over on your side to face him more, his eyes meeting yours and the look on his face was a little surprised like you caught him off guard turning around like that. Making a direct connection with him. “Made sense, how?” You asked with a smile, curious about how he sees you. His face felt hot. The way it got hot a lot when you looked at him like that. Like his body knew something his brain didn’t. So he tried to explain while he feels like the wind is being knocked out of him. “Well… you… are very…” He starts and you’re expecting him to say what a lot of people say. That you’re dependable, you’re mature, you’re independent, helpful, capable. Because that’s how everybody has always seen you. Like anytime anyone looks at you, they’re trying to get you to help them in some way. “…patient.” He said. And you’ve never heard that one before. You smiled softly at him and he felt relieved. “Five siblings, I mean you’ve got to be patient, right?” He said and smiled, trying to make it all just a light joke, looking around a bit and away from the way you’re gazing in his eyes. But what he said was pretty profound. Tells you he’d thought about you and the kind of person you are. He’d thought about more than just sex with you. You looked in his eyes, a smile dancing on your lips. It distracted him a bit. 

“How does that make you feel?” You suddenly asked him. “What.” He asked, not knowing really how to answer a question like that. “How does my patience make you feel?” You reiterated slowly, looking right in his eyes like you’re staring right into his mind. He thought, getting distracted by that look on your face. The look that for some reason let him know whatever answer he gave you would never be the wrong one. 

“It…makes me…feel….”

“Fuck.” He sighs, the memory dissolving in his mind as he shoves it away. How could he be so stupid? Why did he say that kind of stuff to you? It’s like he doesn’t even remember that being him. Like he’s looking at someone else’s memory with you. He becomes someone else when he’s with you. But you looked so happy and he remembers how warm and soft you were. Holding his swollen, mangled hand, he winces at the pain still throbbing. It’s not getting any better, it’s only getting worse. 

It’s radio silence for the next few days. Midterms come and over the week you’re finishing up exams and tutoring students to do well. More students than ever are taking advantage of the tutoring program that you basically resurrected from the dead. So that’s a good feeling at least. You’ve been spending basically all your time in the library, both doing your own work and meeting with any students that need help. And just hanging out with a few tutoring friends. There are some new tutors that just joined the club a few weeks ago and it’s made this whole thing much more fun, hanging out with people that are like minded in that way. Wanting to help other people. 

You haven't heard from Miguel. You don’t know what became of him on Sunday night. And he didn’t reach out or anything on Monday to talk. Discuss what happened. Will you ever talk to him again? Or do you have to pretend none of this ever happened and he never existed in the first place. Your Sunday night heartbreak turns into Monday numb and Tuesday rage. Now it’s Thursday and you’ve thought of all the things you’d say to him if he showed his face again. But deep down you know it’s only the kind of thing you’d never be able to say. Like scripting the perfect comebacks in the shower and kicking yourself for not thinking to say it in the moment. 

It’s hard not talking to him. Not seeing him basically everyday. Because before this past weekend you were seeing him every second you both had to spare. You’re mad at him but you miss waking up in his arms. You miss the late night texts, him wanting you, coming to you and making you feel things you’ve never felt before. Maybe you’re delusional. Was that all this was? Sex and pillowtalk? After what he said Sunday night it seems that way and he made you feel bad for ever thinking otherwise. You’re not stupid, you know that friends with benefits exist and fuckbuddies are such a common thing. And you didn’t even need to be his friend if he really didn’t want you to be! There was never even a need for some conversation about labels because to you it just seemed so obvious! No one could fake that desperation and need. That wanting passion you both shared. The things he said as you gave him everything. Your body, your thoughts, your heart. His whispers of wanting you and how good you make him feel. 

Of course he felt good. He was fucking you raw almost every night and you let him because you’d fallen in love with him. But were you even friends to begin with? Did he see you as anything more than a body to do whatever he wanted with? You thought he wanted you. You were his. He told you that. 

This week has been hell but you push forward. Trying not to isolate yourself and staying in touch with some tutoring friends. Unfortunately, Miguel is so popular that you always find yourself running into his friends too. But you’re realizing more and more that no one knows about you. It’s like Miguel didn’t want anyone to know he was with you. Not even his closest friends. 

You’re sitting in the library for a tutoring session. Last minute cramming before the last exams later that day. Typing on your laptop, a student at your side and helping him on a calculus study guide. Elbow leaning on the table, watching him work, checking what he’s doing as he’s doing it. “Simplify it first, then use the formula…” You say softly and he does as you say, erasing some and correcting himself. “And then just the same on the next one?” He asks and you nod. Patient. That word is in your mind. Remembering when he said it. You were a little too patient with Miguel. 

Miguel’s watching all of this happen. Standing behind the library door, hidden mostly and only peering in through the window in the door. He finally caught up to you after days of trying to get to you. He tried multiple times to catch you in the library this week but he always missed you. Every night he debated texting you but ultimately decided he wanted you to text him first. Mostly because he had no idea what to say. He just wanted you back. For things to go back to the way they were. He’s pissed himself off. In his mind it’s like he’s convinced himself you don’t want to talk to him. 

The library is mostly empty except for you and your tutee. He wants to get you alone right now but doubts he can. Especially when you’re in the middle of doing something. But what you’re doing can’t be as important as what he needs to say to you. As important as him. His hand is aching badly as it has all week since Sunday night. Hidden in his pocket. He hasn’t done anything about it. He’s been taking ibuprofen but it’s not doing much.

If he has to wait hours to talk to you, then so be it. He won’t let this go on any longer. You’re going to talk to him whether you have anything to say or not. Somehow he’s managed to turn his desperation into anger. He leans against the wall outside the library door. Staring at the pattern on the floor. Fidgeting with the seam inside his jacket pocket. Sighing deeply, he feels uneasy thinking about what he’s going to say to you. What you might say to him. He’s got to act tough so he doesn’t lose control of the conversation. If he does he’s sure he’ll lose you. Because he knows deep down that he’s the asshole here. It’s his fault. And he’s scared to beg you for another chance. 

These feelings are foreign to him. Never before has he acted this way over someone and he doesn’t know why. Is there something wrong with me? He thinks. That always seems to be his first thought. A while goes by and his mind swirls with thoughts of you.

He’s lost in thought and only glances up as he hears the doors at the end of the hall swinging closed. Someone must have walked by him. He pushes off the wall, instantly going to the window in the library door and seeing you’re finally alone. His heart thumps in his chest. Clenching his swollen bruised hand in his pocket. He sighs and forces himself to walk inside. 

He gets halfway to you before you suddenly look up. Stopping him in his tracks. And it’s like he suddenly feels like he’s doing something wrong. Eyes locked and breath caught in both your chests. 

It’s been four fucking days. Not a call, not a text. Nothing. And now he’s here. You look away first. Back down to your laptop to continue typing. And he continues walking, stopping at the edge of the table across from you. 

It’s silent. Not a word dared spoken until…

“I need to talk to you.” The tall man finally speaks, towering over the table. Silence follows as you think about how to go about this. You thought about this moment all week. All the different scenarios and possibilities. You imagined melting into his arms as you’ve done a million times by now. But thinking back to all those moments it’s like none of that ever mattered because it didn’t matter to him. How can you trust him again when he treated you like he wanted you and then told you, you were never supposed to happen. After he finally spoke, it lit a fire inside you. “I’m busy right now.” You say softly, keeping your eyes locked on your laptop screen. While this time away from him has been hell and you’ve been heartbroken over this, he’s also been a total dick. You don’t want to let him get away with it. You don’t know how you’re going to do that but you try not to bend completely to his will. Your attention is directed back to your keyboard, typing away and ignoring him. All those comebacks are stuck in your throat. Miguel frowns, watching you. 

He’s been trying all week to find you. To talk to you. Trying to find sneaky ways so that he doesn't have to beg for your attention. And now seeing you ignore him. He wants your attention and he’s gonna get it. 

After a few beats of heavy silence, he walks around the table. You don’t look up, not even sparing him a glance. Glaring at your laptop screen and seeing his movement in your peripherals. He silently walks to the seat right next to you. Pulling it out and slipping down into it to sit beside you. His hands shoved back into his pockets as he sits like he intends to stay. 

“Y/n… hey...” He says gently, trying to get your attention. Turning in his chair slightly to face you more, his knee pressing softly into the side of your thigh. He can see your anger, he can feel it too. “I’m not talking to you.” You say without looking at him. “Well I’m talking to you…” He says so softly, one could mistake the tone for sweet nothings. You sigh, closing your laptop with a click, you grab your bag. Ready to just leave and brush him off if he’s not going to take the hint to leave you alone. “No…no.” He says softly and reaches across you, taking your bag, lifting it over and onto his side. So you can’t get to it. 

An annoyed huff escapes your lips, crossing your arms and staring straight ahead to avoid him. You’re not good at confrontation. Never had to do something like this before. 

His hand comes up to brush your hair back behind your ear. The backs of his fingers brushed across your cheek. And you brush his hand away when he does it. Is he really trying that right now?

“Stop it.” You sigh, pushing his hand away absentmindedly so he opts for resting his arm on the back of your chair. “Come on… let’s talk about this.” He says and you’re starting to fume inside. Now he wants to talk? After you begged him not to leave, begged him to talk to you Sunday night? You look over at him angrily and he keeps his arm around the back of your chair. His broad shoulders give him an advantage. “What do you want?” You glare at him and he sighs. He knew you might be angry but he’s never seen you look at him that way. “Why did you even come here? Just to make things worse?” You frown and keep your arms crossed, closed off from him. “I came here to speak with you.” He says calmly, trying to maintain the control he’s been losing all week. “Well you’re not doing much speaking.” You sigh. A beat of silence follows. 

“I want you to come over… tonight…” He says in that soft tone again. In his mind the both of you just need some time and things can go back to normal. “We can cool off and then you can come over and we can just move on from this.” He says and leans back a bit as if that’s that. Everything’s fixed? 

“What are you talking about?” You look at him like he’s from another planet. “Can’t we just move on from this?” He asks, patience running even thinner. “This has gone on long enough… I’m tired of it… come over…” He says again and he doesn’t even realize how disappointing this all is to you. 

You sigh softly. Feeling let down. He couldn’t even apologize. Couldn’t fix the problem he created. He didn’t come here to explain, or apologize, or to check up on you. The words just start to flow now. 

“So you just came here to get your dick wet, is that it?” You say and stare him dead in the eyes. But his expression changes, brow raises in a certain surprise. He wasn't expecting you to say something like that. 

“No… I… I wanted to…” He starts but it’s like he can’t find the words. “I just wanted to see you.” He says feeling like he’s teetering on a very dangerous line right now. And silence follows. 

Why must he be so confusing? It’s like he’s making it your fault that he has no idea what he wants or how he feels. This week started with you feeling so small and insignificant. You told yourself that he’d never talk to you again after the things he said. That he really regretted being with you. That you were never supposed to happen. Just like he said. But now he’s back and he doesn’t even apologize? He just wants to act like none of it ever happened? Like he didn’t break your heart? 

“Why did you ask me to tutor you? That day?” You suddenly ask as it’s something you’ve been wondering and these are the things he’s not good at talking about. He knows all of this started with him acting like a greedy douchebag but he didn’t expect to feel this way towards you. He doesn’t want to tell you the real reason he invited you to his dorm a month ago. The real reason being he wanted a quick easy fuck with someone who seemed eager and innocent. He feels like a fucking jerk. “I don’t know…” He sighs and shakes his head, looking down at the table then back up at you. All your words just seem to come spilling out now.

“Well you knew that I liked you...” You state as if it should be obvious. “What do you mean?” He asks and your brow furrows. Is he serious? “You… you knew that I liked you. When you asked me to tutor you? A month ago??” You ask hopefully, trying to confirm what you hoped to be true. You had thought he knew you had feelings for him all this time. You even hoped those feelings were returned. “N-no I… I mean I assumed maybe you might have. I didn’t really think about it too much” He says a bit nervous about where this is going. His cool control slipping. But everyone likes him so it just makes sense that you would like him too. That’s why you didn’t refuse him. And it’s all getting twisted up in his head. “Didn’t think about it? Like… it wasn’t important to you whether I liked you or not?” 

And the silence falls over the both of you right then. “Well then what is this? What have we been doing?” You frown at him, waving your hands in the air a bit because you just can’t understand how you got to this point and he just keeps acting so oblivious. And he’s losing control. 

“No. Wait. I didn’t say it right. I-” 

“Why did you start doing all this then? If you didn’t even like me in the first place?” 

His eyes go wide, not having an answer that wouldn’t make you feel even worse. “I don’t know…” He says again. He doesn’t seem to know a goddamn thing. “Was it just to string me along?! Is this all just a joke to you?! Are you trying to make fun of me or something?” You press for answers, feeling more heartbroken the longer he doesn’t give you a real answer. “No! It’s not! I am not trying to make fun of you!” He exclaims, shaking his head. This isn’t going how he wanted. This is spinning out of his control and he’s on the verge of all this collapsing. If this happened with anyone else he’d just forget it ever happened in the first place. But he couldn’t forget you if he tried. He doesn’t understand that feeling. 

“You’ve just admitted you didn’t even like me when you first started this… and after a month of me giving you nothing but sex, you still just ‘don’t know’?” 

“No, that’s not what I mean.” 

“That’s exactly what you just said! And apparently I was never even supposed to happen in the first place.” You throw his own words back at him and he scoffs before scrambling to explain himself in a way that won’t make you hate him even more. 

“I freaked out… I don’t know why I freaked out. Can’t you just forget it? What I said was stupid I don’t even know what I was thinking…” He insists. “Seems like you were thinking a lot actually. That this was your plan all along. You don’t want a relationship, you just want a fucktoy…” You scoff and stand up from your seat, to which he immediately stands up too. His earlier confidence is crumbling. 

“Come on, I was… drunk!” He scrambles to justify his outburst Sunday night. 

“You said you weren’t drunk or were you lying about that too?” You move past him to grab your backpack from where he put it trying to keep it from you. 

“Can you just come over? Let’s forget about this, this is a waste of time.” He begs and follows you around as you’re collecting your things off the table and shoving them into your backpack. 

“I don’t think it’s a waste of time…” You say softly and shove your computer inside. “Yeah, well I do… you have wasted my time!” He raises his voice, trying to get a rise out of you but when he sees your disapproving expression he knows that wasn’t the right move. With one last zip, you’re starting to leave the empty library. And he follows frantically.  

“W-Wait! Just wait… w-what do you want me to do? You want me to block Dana’s number? I’ll do it!” He’s speaking fast and frantic, reaching for your hand and holding it to stop you from leaving him.

“I don’t want you to block Dana’s number… I don’t care.” You sigh, completely over all of this. It’s too confusing. He’s a mess you’re not sure you want to be a part of. 

“I’ll block her right now… you can watch me do it!

“Oh my god… enough…” 

“Please.”

“Enough!!” 

“I’ll cut her off… I don’t even want to see her anyway, I hate her…and we didn’t fuck on Sunday if that’s what you think!”

“Dana is not the problem”

“Dana must be the problem.”

“I’m telling you, she’s not!” You yell at him. And he finally shuts up, watching you wide eyed as you keep scolding him.

“Do you even hear yourself? D’you ever think that the problem might just be you? Are you incapable of just apologizing or do you genuinely not believe this is all your fault??! All of your problems just have to be other people’s problems right?!” And he flinches as you yell. 

He’s stunned by your words and the volume with which you just scolded him. He knows he deserves it but he just can’t stop himself from arguing. He doesn’t want you to hate him even though he deserves it. 

“Well I’m not perfect, okay? I can’t be…I can’t be perfect.” He pleads softly, holding onto your hand like a lifeline. A silent plea for you to not let go of him now.

“I’m not asking you to be perfect!” 

His eyes stay wide. Staring at you like you’ve just told him a deep dark secret. 

“I’m asking you to stop being a selfish asshole!!” 

Your voice doesn’t echo in this place padded with old books and hardwood. It's sturdy and final. And finally it seems like you’re getting through to him. Maybe he’s understanding.

“Don’t tell me you don’t feel the same. Do not tell me I was making it all up in my head. I’m not the one misreading things. You are.” You say. Your voice is softer now. Fragile as you can see he’s thinking about all that you just said.

Tell her you’re sorry, Miguel. He thinks to himself. He knows everything you’ve said is what he needs to hear. He knows he hurt you. What he said was not okay. And now he’s made you upset and angry too. 

“You’re right I… about everything…” He mumbles. Sighing and looking down. His fingers slipping away from your hand. Letting it go. Letting you go. 

“I… I’m sorry.” He finally says. And you let his apology sit. Allowing yourself time to decide if you’ll accept. If he deserves it. The silence is deafening. 

“I-I just…” He sighs deeply. At a loss for words. He just feels so stupid. Rubbing his forehead down to his cheek frustrated. Sighing ashamedly as he tries to think of what to say that could fix this. “You asked me… to tell you what I’m feeling and I-I don’t know…” He says softly. And you stare at him wide eyed as he admits this.

“What is that?” Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts for a moment. Looking back up at you confused. “Your hand.” You say, your eyes locked on his busted hand as he rubs his face. He pulls it behind his back. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy. “It’s nothing I-” He painfully clenches his hand behind his back. The guilt is overwhelming. Please don’t feel bad for me. He thinks to himself. You’ve been far too patient with him. 

“Show me.” You demand softly, looking in his eyes. And you’re serious. He sighs softly and brings his hand out, holding it out sheepishly to show you. The hand that’s held you, the hand that’s touched you… it’s cut up and bruised. 

“What happened?” You ask sternly with a hardened expression when you finally see the cuts in his knuckles and the bruises. His hand is mangled, swollen, purple and clearly would cause anyone lots of pain. “Don’t lie to me.” You sternly say. And he doesn’t dare lie to you again. “I just… punched my locker.” He looks down ashamed. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him like this. Broken and defeated. It’s not a good feeling, you don’t like seeing him like this. “When did this happen?” You ask firmly and he answers in a sigh. “Sunday.” Shoving his hand back in his pocket. It makes sense that he would have thrown a fit after he stormed out Sunday night. He must have been going about his week with his hand like that and not doing anything about it. “Did you go to the hospital?” He shakes his head at your question. Averting your gaze. “It’s gonna get worse if you don’t.” You insist and he just nods. For fear of his voice breaking if he found any words.

“I’m sorry Y/n… I’ll just go…” He says softly and steps back, and once again it’s like everything inside him is telling him to leave. You stand there. Not wanting to stop him this time. Watching him as he goes. 

“You should go to the hospital.” You say soft and serious as he walks past you. Staying still and not attempting to stop him from leaving. You’ve made your point. And he didn’t win. But neither of you won tonight. He nods softly and keeps his head down, walking past you to leave the library. And he’s going to try his hardest not to bother you again. You’re so kind, so patient, so real. And he fucked up the one good thing he had going on. The one thing that made him feel good. Instead of belittling you, he should have acknowledged that he has some messy feelings of his own. 

So he leaves. And you’re left standing in the library. You stood up for yourself. You told him off. But why do you feel so empty? Maybe it was seeing him so broken. When it comes to things that are good for him, he seems to forget himself. 

He leaves the library silently. Walking down the dim hallways of the building and then outside. It’s raining again. It’s been raining pretty much all week. Pulling his hood up, he walks down the front steps of the academic building. Walking through the rain and not even bothering to run this time. Letting the rain pelt his sweatshirt, soak right through to his skin. He feels so stupid. He feels confused. And he feels sorry. But you deserve better than him. 

Getting back to his residence building, he gets in the elevator. Staring at the floor and leaning his head against the wall as it travels up to his floor. He scoffs when the conversation replays in his head. His own words echoing and hearing himself act like such a dick. He didn’t know what other way to approach you other than to try and make things go back to normal. He wants things the way they were.

But he’s realizing the way things were is not fair to you. It’s not like all month the two of you just happened to cross paths. It’s not like you were sleeping with each other because there was no one else. It’s because neither of you can stay away from the other. It’s this messy obsession fueled with fire. He could touch you blind and know the pulse at your throat, the tips of your fingers, the plush of your stomach. He’d know the whispers of your voice, the fan of your breath over his cheek, the taste of your tongue. So then why is he so afraid? If he’s memorized every shimmering stretch mark, every inch of your skin, the sound of your voice, then why does he keep pushing you away? 

He wants you to be his… but he wants to be yours just as much. 

Miguel sighs as the elevator finally dings and the door opens. He keeps his head down, walking down the hall to his door. Unlocking it and walking inside. His hand hurts like hell. The cuts are just starting to heal but his fingers are still busted and swollen. It’s hard for him to open and close his hand all the way. 

His phone rings, vibrating in his pocket as he peels off his wet hoodie and kicks his shoes off. Pulling it out from his pocket, he sees who’s calling. He didn’t expect it to be you. And it’s not. It’s his Father. 

His heart sinks further, letting it ring, staring at the caller ID. This is the last thing he needs right now. Sitting on the edge of his bed, holding his vibrating phone in the palm of his hand, his eyes start to sting. Hot tears welling up and brimming in his eyes. When the ringing finally stops he drops his phone on the bed and drops his face into his hand. A shaky sigh trembling in his chest, swollen, hurting fingers clenching painfully on his lap. His arms wrap around himself, leaning over and down into his bed. He’s so tired. And he’s alone again just like always. He doesn’t feel bad for himself, he feels bad about himself. What is it about him that drives everyone away? You just answered that question for him tonight. It’s just him. 

...

“It… makes me… feel… steady? Like… like there’s nothing to worry about. Or like… y’know…” He sighed, flipping over to lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling as you looked over at him across the pillows. The words felt trapped in his chest but they flowed like a river from his lips. “Like things feel slow...in a good way.”

…

He remembers saying that. He remembers meaning every word. Right now he feels anything but steady. He's collapsed.

His tears dry after a while and he keeps trying to just fall asleep and forget all of this. Even for just a few hours. But he can’t seem to just fall asleep. His head hurts and all he wants is to rest for once after this shitty week. But his running mind won’t let him. 

His eyes crack open to check the time, his alarm clock blaring red in the darkness of his room. 2:17am. “Ugh…” He sighs, letting his head fall back onto the covers. He’s been sitting like this for hours now. 

Knock knock knock. 

He hears the knock on the door, flinching and sitting up slightly on his elbows. Watching the door and wondering if he’s hearing things. But there it is again. Three soft knocks. 

“Miguel?” Your soft voice sounds from the other side of the door and he sits up completely. Eyes wide and heart thumping. This is his last chance. He can’t mess it up this time. He immediately gets up and turns on his desk light, running a hand through his hair and going to the door, unlocking the bolt and opening it. He doesn’t care if it seems desperate, he is desperate. 

He looks smaller somehow. Or maybe you just feel bigger in some way. He’s staring at you as he stands in the opening of his door. And his immediate instinct is to try whatever he can to make things better. 

“Y/n… I’m sorry… I shouldn’t hav-”

“Put your shoes on.” You shush him softly. You didn’t come here for an apology.

“What?” He steps forward, not understanding your request. It’s 2am and you’re both half asleep anyway.

“Put your shoes on please.” You say again. “And a hoodie or something, it’s cold outside.” 

His brow furrows in confusion but he’s not going to argue with you right now. You’re here and talking to him so that’s what matters. Using his one good hand, he pulls his sneakers on at the door, grabbing his hoodie off the back of his desk chair. “Where are we going?” He asks and passes through his door to you. He’d go anywhere if it meant he could be with you right now. A soft hopeful expression on his face. “We’re going to the hospital.” 

To be continued…

images from pinterest

Taglist: @miguels-cock-piercings @queerponcho @club-danger-zone @bossva @softcrayon

@m4dyy @nommingonfood @bruhhvv

@jessies-unrelagated-thoughts @mauvecherie-writes @haveclayeveryday @kimivixen

@jadeloverxd @chiikasevennn @mvlanchqly @resident-cryptid

@x0tw0d57 @vampyboys @miguelspriscilla

@francesca-the-1st @migueloharacumslut @daisy-artfield @peachey-pie @izakopanyi2

@rinnako @ohara-whore @migueloharasbbm @razertail18 @laysmt

@tojiragdoll @maiyart @wazawazooo @mun-2996 @marshhbs

[raceweek]

hello. alexalblondo's rude anon coming here to humbly and politely beg for galex primer because i dont understand their history. george said he lived at alex's family's house at one point? how - weren't they already racing? sorry thank you humble thank you 🙏🙏

hello!!! thanks chris for the referral FKFJDKD

i have overwhelmed my alex and george tags so much that i fear i could never capture all of it but my galex key moment anthology is under the cut!!

karting/early single seaters

Alex thinks they met in 2011 but the footage in georges flip phone says he knew alex back in 2009.

Their first actual interaction (so far as they've told the world) was when alex was world champion with the intrepid karting team and bc he was their reference driver he was asked to help pick the drivers who were quick to replace him when he moved up and he picked george (and charles) so they were then part of that same intrepid driver programme for a while. Interestingly, alex was always at least one year above him bc of their ages and george says the fact they didn't really race directly against each other before 2016 was probably why they became such good friends.

They did a deep dive of their camera rolls from this time on twitch a couple years back and talked about the oldest pictures they have of each other in their camera rolls (1:25:36) which was cute.

2017

2017 is the year george basically lived with alex. They were also sharing a trainer whilst alex was competing in gp2 and george was in gp3. George was doing mercedes sim work at their factory so rented a flat in milton keynes near where alex lived but according to alex that rent was wasted money bc george had more meals at alexs' house than he did that year. Also as detailed in those links, the Great Mountain Biking Incident of 2017 occurred at this time so we have the fun mental image of george literally wheeling alex into a&e on a wheelchair bc that is an actual event that happened.

2018

George and alex both in f2 fighting for the title year wooooo!! They never really fought on track but we did get fun tidbits like when alex pipped george to the win at silverstone bc george had a slow pit stop and giggled about it in parc ferme (5:42) & these post session interviews.

also some incredible photoshoots.

2019

Promotion to f1!!! We started the year at winter testing and this nugget that they have both accepted that they are actually tied together by the strings of fate. They're doing fun media stuff like karting and bullying each other over percentage of apexs hit at the skypad (video). 2019 also the start of the umbrella sharing. They were just together a lot… more skypad analysis!!!

2019 also has MY personal favourite galex moment which was hockenheim 2019 and the 45 minute phone call galex had on the way home after george missed out on scoring what would have been his first point in f1 and only point of the season.

There was also the summer break and enjoying a training camp together, exchanging infections etc. Alex also took george to meet lily for the first time, bc that’s a normal thing to do.

There was also the rookie of the year vid, and the rookie season review vid at the end of the year. Much was happening.

2020

The year started with f1 trying to race during a global pandemic. Fun! On the singular media day before everyone realised just how stupid that was they were being annoying. The lockdowns did give us the twitch streams. George was initially so bad at virtual racing he had to secretly consult alex's brother for help behind alexs back. George was also actively seeking alex out like a missile at any given opportunity and at one point felt necessary to declare that he wasn't alexs boyfriend when someone asked if alex was going to be streaming that day. Anyway my lockdown twitchscapades tag has a post with a playlist of all the streams that haven't been lost or deleted if you want to feel joy and have a spare million hours.

Racing resumed in July with the covid team bubbles and within two races and one qualifying session george was defending alexs honour to sky sports and the world in a truly remarkable fashion.

At the end of the year alex was unemployed....even more tragic than this loss was that alexs career difficulties were so extreme he started ghosting george, which devastated him to the extent he needed to publicly drag him for it.

There was also george asking lily to post alexs n*des on instagram and lily responding with if anyone has them it would be you which was perhaps the last time george had access to his own social media password.

Despite george not liking it they celebrated alexs first podium by going golfing! and reverse! George was also gifted an alex albon signed autograph card for christmas and said that he'll put it somewhere special x

2021

The beginning of 2021 was during lockdown and there was more fun virtual gps except the only two drivers doing it were george and alex so they were just bitching and gossiping and threatening to steal strategies and abu dhabi 2016 each other. Particular shoutout to the time they had a virtual race on valentines day and alex put a suit on for it and george was baffled. Immediately after valentines day was georges birthday which lily used to thank george for letting her borrow his boyfriend from time to time.

Then the season started with george enduring the season alexless and not letting anyone forget about it. Alex was turning up to races after being locked in the simulator until the early hours posting stuff like this on instagram and otherwise stumbling over his words after getting whipped on the ass.

Perhaps the defining moment of the galex 2021 season was george pushing the williams board to sign alex so heavily that they had to actively shut him out of proceedings. Also at this time there was this cute congrats from alexs family and one from alex to georgie about the mercedes seat.

anyway here's some more random 2021 nuggets:

i've seen him topless a few times

george getting alex a good deal on a merc x

yet More golf

the handover

georges driver room

2022

They truly lost every inch of personal space in 2022 like. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. The back signing Hello.

2022 had alex having his appendix out, nearly dying and alexs family updating george whilst alex was in the icu and then when alex returned for the next race in signapore a couple weeks later (insane behaviour) george was like mmm audacious of him to be here.

Elsewhere alex discovered georges photoshoot and was making screensavers about it. Alex also discovered hair dye and george was making instagram stories about it.

other random 2022 nuggets:

george is alexs fave f1 driver excluding himself

this skit williams did of lily finding a huge picture of george in alexs driver room

whatever this image is of lily george and alex

private plane carpool

double date

2023

@onadarklingplain covers the whole year for you much MUCH better than i ever could here!!!!!

and that brings us to present where they're just as weird and freaky with each other as ever!!!

[anjellaufeyson]

I could treat you better - Bellamy Blake

Time stamp: 1:38

My boyfriend was lovely–his friend wasn’t. Bellamy Blake was the rudest man I’ve ever come across; I only tolerated him for my boyfriend. 

Murphy kissed me before he got pulled away for work, he was doing guard watch. I sighed, why couldn’t Bellamy do this? He always had Murphy doing everything for him, and I’m sick of it. Whenever Muphy comes back to our tent he’s exhausted or too tired to even spend time with me. I left my tent and walked inside Bellamy’s, he was shirtless and a girl was lying on his bed. I immediately left with a disgusted look on my face. 

Soon he came out searching for me, “What do you want, princess?” 

I palmed my face while we strolled together through Arkadia, “I’d prefer if you wouldn’t call me that, Blake. Especially since some people say that when they’re together.” 

He tilted his head, his eyes gazing into mine, he glanced down with a bit of a smile, “Right, whatever you say, princess.” 

The need to correct and argue with him was there but I ignored it for the sake of Murphy. “okay–can you please stop keeping my boyfriend working late? I’m aware of how things are, like it or not I’m one of the smart ones and I think he’s being overworked and–”

Bellamy’s face showed confusion in itself, “Murphy gets off at the same time as everyone else. I work the late nights, I’m who stays up all night, every night.” 

I stopped moving, trying to process my indecision and incoming sense of betrayal. “Wait, you haven’t been keeping Murphy late or hanging out with him late?” 

He shook his head and crossed his arms, his muscles clenching to his tight shirt. His veins popping out. My eyes tore away, my emotions were my only focus. “No, I don’t think anyone has. We’ve been on a lockdown since Clarke went missing.” 

My brain racked everything Murphy’s ever told me since he began ‘working’ late. I thought of the girl I assumed he had a relationship with but when I questioned him, he brushed me off. Out of anger, I took off leaving Bellamy, who ended up following behind me calling for my name. I moved the tent side and immediately saw Murphy and the girl kissing. They stopped once they noticed me and how distraught I looked. 

I backed up and accidentally bumped into Bellamy’s chest, I didn’t cry. I felt like I should cry, my body begged to cry, but when you did here–it made you seem weak. And I’d never want Murphy to see me cry even though my heart did in return. I turned and tried to shield myself with Bellamy’s chest, but hesitantly he put his arms around me. Trying to comfort me but I knew we both detested each other. He never liked me with Murphy for a reason I am unaware of, and I just never liked him. He brushed his hand up and down my back, almost in circular motions. 

Murphy’s voice appeared from behind me but I didn’t dare to look back because I felt so vulnerable, I knew I would cry. “I need to talk with her, I can explain!”

Bellamy stepped in, holding me closer. His voice was demanding, his tone was deep, “Murphy, you should go. Now. If she wants to talk to you, she’ll do it later.” 

I could hear Murphy protesting before easily giving up, he didn’t care to try. I pushed away from Bellamy who almost looked shocked at how quickly I switched up. 

We had to go on a mission, and I found myself in a difficult position. A hand covered my mouth and once I realized I didn’t know the person whose hand it was I began to get a bit scared. I tried to fight them off but couldn’t–it had to be a grounder. 

The grounder pulled a sword on me and dug into my back, but not enough to hurt me but it pierced the skin. He pushed me onto my knees where my friends were–including Bellamy. The whole hunting group was in. Murphy seemed nervous. I guess I should be too, especially since it’s my life on the line. 

“Who’s valuable to her?”

What an odd fucking question–is this supposed to be leverage? Might as well let me die. 

Bellamy not even a second later stepped forward, “She’s with me, that’s my girlfriend.” He spoke so truthfully that even everyone we knew was aware he was lying through his teeth. 

“What are you willing to give me in turn for her life?” 

His eyes almost turned vulnerable, his words coming off as pathetic as his tone came off as pleads. “What do you want?” 

The grounder moved the sword which caused me to wince, “I want Wanheda.” Everyone shared a confused glance, who is that? “Give her to me and I won’t kill her.” 

“Take me instead, she has a better chance of getting through to Wanheda than me.” What is he doing? He’s going to get himself killed–I’m aware he can handle himself but this is almost suicidal. The grounder pushed me into Bellamy’s arms. He squeezed my hand for the quickest second and moved to the grounder who hit him immediately. 

I wanted to help him but I didn’t know how to, Bellamy could’ve attacked but stayed down, taking another punch with ease. I stepped forward but he put his hand up, “Don’t,” he demanded while blood ran down his cheek. 

Why was he willing to do this for me? We’ll never find her, I mouthed. He did a tiny nod. They need you, I mouthed once more. He got kicked in his ribs and I knew I lost his attention but while the grounder was distracted I quickly stole Murphy’s gun and shot the grounder. My aim was good, but I hated shooting, killing wasn’t something I wanted to do. But I had to–for him. 

Without processing what I did I went to Bellamy’s side. I hated his stupidity and I hated how he saved my life. “I hate you,” I said as I helped him up. He spit out blood, “I know,” he said while wincing from getting up too quickly. 

While Bellamy was getting medical from Abby, I was talking with Octavia and Jasper. Murphy approached grabbing my arm, “Were you and Bellamy seeing each other behind my back?”

His breath reeks of Monty’s moonshine, “Are you serious? You’ve been cheating on me, Murphy?”

“Were you yes or no?” 

Before I could say anything Bellamy put his arm around my waist. His hands slipped around my stomach. Holding me tight but just to keep himself steady from behind. “Yes,” he said in a raspy voice, still clearly in pain. I couldn’t turn my head, I’d be too close to his face. He groaned a bit in pain but still managed to keep his posture strong and himself looking composed. Bellamy pulled me in closer to him and that got a bit of a reaction from Murphy. 

“Fuck you both,” he said as he stormed off. Everyone else decided to leave us alone, I was going to Bellamy back to medic. There was a zero percent chance he was let out yet. 

He stopped me from walking, his tight and bloody shirt doing him every bit of justice. His hands took control so easily, “Why’d you do it,” I asked. 

His fingers traced along my neck, “Save you? Or help you?”

“Both,” I spoke breathlessly. His eyes were fixated on my lips and I wondered if Abby gave him painkillers or something for this type of behavior. 

Bellamy stared down at me, tension felt like it was rising, and the heat was radiating off our bodies. He kept one hand on my waist, holding me. His right hand pulled my hair to the side he leaned in, “because we both know I could treat you better,” he whispered into my ear.

[beerok23]

All the times Crowley calls Aziraphale by name - Chronological order

See also All the times Crowley calls Aziraphale "Angel" - Chronological order

A few considerations. 1) After the Ark encounter, Crowley does call Aziraphale mainly 'Angel' over the centuries (Bildad, 1793, 1827, 1862) with one exception: 1827, when Wee Morag is dying and Crowley needs the angel to realize it's too late to heal her. Which is a major clue to the fact that calling him 'Aziraphale' could be a term of endearment. 2) Which may or may not be confirmed by the drunken scene after the fire: when Crowley sees the angel almost as a ghost, he says 'Aziraphale' - not 'Angel'. 3) After the Ark, considering the plot up to Season 1, the name 'Aziraphale' comes out when Crowley is calling after delivering the Antichrist (very formal occasion) and when Crowley is scared and/or angered (where are you, you idiot) or annoyed (kick butts, shoot him), 4) The Lockdown scene starts with a very sarcastic Crowley scolding the angel because he obviously knows it's 'Aziraphale' calling (again, annoyed), but it ends with the most heavenly 'Goodnight, Angel' after realizing he can't see him, yet. 5) As for Season 2, Crowley NEVER directly calls Aziraphale by name when they are alone together (see the very satisfying aformentioned 'Angel' compilation); however, when he's talking with other angels and/or demons he uses his first name - which is most convenient since they are more vulnerable around them. 6) The Us time they never got still breaks me.

In conclusion, I totally agree with @justdecadentcollectiondestiny (read this): There's probably a very good reason why Crowley stops calling Aziraphale 'Angel' after the bookshop fire - at least he stops until everything is over with Adam and Satan. I'm also sure there's a reason why Crowley refers to him only as 'Angel' throughout the whole second season (*Cough - quiet and gentle and romantic omens - *Cough). He felt safe enough; it was the time he dared to hope that the precious, peaceful, fragile existence would really work.

Of course, this is mere speculation. But the use of the two different names has meaning. Once again, hail to Neil. The Goat. This perfectionism (intended or unintended) delivers perfectly, and you can totally perceive the rollercoaster of Crowley's feelings for Aziraphale, from Eden to You're better than that.

As requested by @tremendouspostcoffee

[gotta-get-back-to-hatchetfield]

Help! I loved Nerdy Prudes Must Die and am curious about Nightmare Time but don't really have time to commit to watching it all... (a handy guide)

For those of you who don't know Nightmare Time was a series of Hatchetfield one shots that starkid wrote and recorded during lockdown, all of which are of course available for free on YouTube. They go a lot deeper into the lore than the 3 Hatchetfield musicals, including explaining and explore the characters we know and love in more detail, sometimes including shocking revelations.

They also introduce new characters to the Hatchetfield universe, including Stephanie Lauter, Grace Chasity and Pete Spankoffski, who we first met in a Nightmare Time episode.

As they were filmed in lockdown the recording quality is somewhat variable, but Season 2 has a much higher production value than Season 1, and in Season 1 Episode 1 in particular they were very clearly trying to find their feet with it. That being said the actual scripts and content of the episodes is solid throughout.

I've decided to put together this handy guide of which Nightmare Time episodes people might want to check out if they want to learn more about certain things we saw in NPMD.

1) Nibbly - Honey Queen (season 2 episode 1)

If you're curious to learn more about the Lords in Black each of them (bar Wiggly) have an episode of Nightmare Time devoted to them.

For Nibbly, Wiggly's hungriest and pinkest brother that episode is 'Honey Queen' in Season 2 Episode 1.

It explores a very entertaining rivalry between Linda Monroe (from Black Friday) and Zoey (the annoying barista from Beanie's in TGWDLM) that naturally turns very very dark. We also get to meet Linda's husband Gerald who she spends most of Black Friday on the phone to.

As a heads up Nibbly doesn't appear until, shall we say, the end of the episode (with Hatchetfield there's always a twist) and he's not in the super sexy form from NPMD but it's a very strong episode and does give a bit of background to Nibbly's deal.

2) Tinky - Time Bastard (season 1 episode 2 part 2)

If you're curious to learn more about this yellow motherfucker played by Curt then you're in luck because he's in my personal favourite episode and one with a lot of interesting lore surrounding it.

If you're curious about what he means when in NPMD he says 'I could add another Spankoffski to my set', Time Bastard is focused around Pete's brother Ted (from TGWDLM) and the dodgy dealings of CCRP.

It's an extremely clever episode, with lots of really fun twists. It's unfortunately season 1 so has slightly lower production quality, but in terms of raw scripting is just outstanding and has some really interesting reveals about people in the Hatchetfield universe who may not be who we think they are...

Also worth noting that this is in the same episode (Youtube video) as a different Nightmare Time episode 'Forever and Always'. Most episodes work like this where you have two different stories per episode, they absolutely can be watched independently but usually have some sort of thematic link (in this case it's the things we do for love and how they will inevitably be thwarted by CCRP being sketch).

3) Blinky - Watcher World (season 1 episode 1 part 2)

And if you're curious about the one who's always watching you, he's actually the first Lord in Black we meet through Nightmare Time, in the very first episode when Bill and Alice Woodward (TGWDLM) go on an ill fated trip to a spooky theme park.

Again this is from the first episode so production quality is low but it's a really solid episode and a very interesting look into these characters.

While this is our first meeting of a lord in black in Nightmare Time, I don't believe he's actually referred to as such, and the concept of the Lords in Blacks being introduced as Wiggly's brothers comes in at point 5 on this list.

4) Pokey - Yellow Jacket (season 2 episode 4)

You've already met Pokey through TGWDLM (yep that was his blue shit that destroyed the world!), but you won't truly realise how fucking scary he is until you meet his incarnation 'Otho' in Yellow Jacket.

A solid episode exploring Lex, Hannah and Ethan in a lot more detail, and in a world and lives where (at least at the start of the episode) things seem to be a lot more stable for them than in Black Friday.

And yeh as I've already mentioned Pokey is fucking s c a r y in it. Also you remember James Tolbert's character, Charles that gets a little cameo in Hatchetown? Well he's the main human antagonist of this episode!

We also learn a lot of lore about 'the gift', the thing that makes Hannah able to do magic.

5) The concept of the Lords in Black generally - The Witch in the Web (season 2 episode 3 part 2)

If you're curious about why everyone's been posting pictures of those evil teddy bears and now even more confused that you've met them all as fucked up high school students, the Witch in the Web is the episode where we're first introduced to the 'they don't care bears' as a set.

This is a really cool episode, again about Lex and Hannah, but it also exploring Uncle Wiley (from Black Friday) in a lot more detail.

We also first meet two characters called Duke and Miss Holloway who together form the ship Holloduke that if you were following any of Starkid tumblr during lockdown you will definitely have heard of. They're really cool!

Here we also meet Webby, Hannah's imaginary friend in Black Friday, who turns out to be the lord in black's sister: a queen in white. And she's dope.

6) Pete Spankoffski, Stephanie Lauter and Grace Chasity - Abstinence Camp (season 2 episode 2 part 2)

We first meet the now beloved characters of Pete and Steph and the slightly less beloved character of Grace in an evangelical abstinence only camp. The episode centers entirely around these characters and plays excellently with tropes of the horror genre.

It also has the best song in all of Nightmare Time and it's up to you to decide if I'm talking about 'oh my god it's the axe-man' or 'virginity rocks' (it's both, the answer is both).

That's pretty much it in terms of Nightmare Time episodes that cover things from NPMD, but in case you're curious here's a quick run down of what the rest are about:

The Hatchetfield Ape Man - season 1 episode 1 part 1. Hidgens makes Ted pretend to be a Tarzan style half monkey, half man thing to con Angela Giarratanna out of her inheretence.

Watcher World - season 1 episode 1 part 2. See bullet 3 above. Alice and Bill Woodward go to a theme park and shit hits the fan.

Forever and Always - season 2 episode 2 part 1. Paul and Emma get married. Things are not as they seem (there are robots). One of my personal favourites.

Time Bastard - season 2 episode 2 part 2. See bullet 2 above. Ted fucks with time travel and things end very badly for him. Best episode imo.

Jane's a Car - season 2 episode 3 part 1. Turns out the soul of Tom Houston's ex-wife Jane, who died in a car crash, transferred into the car. This somewhat complicates his budding relationship with Becky Barnes.

The Witch in the Web - season 2 episode 3 part 2. See bullet 5 above. Hannah Foster's having nightmares and somehow a witch and Uncle Wiley are involved. Luckily a good witch (Miss Holloway) is there to try and help.

Honey Queen - season 2 episode 1. See bullet 1 above. Linda Monroe and Zoey Chambers compete to win the Hatchetfield honey queen beauty pageant and things spiral wildly out of control. My personal favourite episode from season 2.

Perky's Buds - season 2 episode 2 part 1. Emma's finally achieved her dream of owning her own pot farm. Just her, her non-binary farm hand Ziggs and some very evil birds.

Abstinence Camp - season 2 episode 2 part 2. See bullet 6 above. Pete, Steph and Grace go to a retreat in the very creepy woods to learn one way or another about the perils of pre-marital sex.

Daddy - season 2 episode 3 part 1. Remember Sherman Young (Jamie's weird creepy guy from Black Friday)? Turns out there's something very weird going on with his mum. We also learn a lot about Frank Pricely (owner of toyzone from Black Friday) in this episode, who turns out to be a very interesting character.

Killer Track - season 2 episode 3 part 2. Miss Holloway must take extreme action to save a young girl and then the whole world against an evil song that kills anyone who listens to it. We learn a lot more about Holloway as a character and she is soooo cool. Another favourite episode of mine.

Yellow Jacket - season 2 episode 4. See bullet point 4. Hannah seeing her sister struggling to provide for them financially decides to find a way of using her power to earn some spare cash.

Hey Melissa - episode aired only on a livestream, type it into youtube and it'll come up. If you've ever found yourself asking 'what if Mariah's secretary character from the start of TGWDLM was really into dom pup play and Paul Matthews was her little pup bitch and she was also a horrific out of control serial killer?' then a) are you Matt Lang because if not I'm concerned? and b) by god this is the episode for you!. I personally really enjoy it I think it's super funny, but obviously heavy trigger warnings for abuse and sexual content warnings (there's a reason they didn't put this in the real series). Fucking excellent tho.

[redflagshipwriter]

Hot Ghouls in your area ch 5 part 1 of 2

Masterpost

Jason found himself back in the real world (the human world?) in fuckin Star City. Christ. Luckily, his electronics came on line. They weren’t fried, then. He looked up the nearest zeta tube and booked it over there, not eager to get caught in another hero’s city.  The worst part would be that Batman would inevitably smooth it out on his behalf and go growl at Queen for having the audacity to try to arrest him. Jason did not need to get bailed out by his asshole Dad, thanks. 

He wasn’t worried about Green Arrow and his crew per se, but it would be a shitstorm he didn’t need even if he managed to get out. 

Not when he was so laden down with books that he had unfolded both dufflebags stored in his suit, for fuckin sure. Sure, they’d make phenomenal weapons if he swung ‘em around, but the books deserved better than that. 

His comm forced itself on as soon as he came through to Gotham.

“You’re back!” Barbie said, breathless. “You’re alive? Right?”

Jason snorted. The street he stepped onto wasn’t fully dark yet. Patrol probably hadn’t started. “I’m alive,” he confirmed. “How long was I gone?”

“About ten hours,” she said.

Oh. Jason pursed his lips. It wasn’t dusk, it was dawn. “Tonight must have been fun,” he said lightly. 

She laughed darkly. “You’re about to find out how fun it was.”

He stopped in his tracks. “Hey, no-”

Oracle opened up a line to what was probably every vigilante in Gotham city. “Hood is back and safe,” she announced, gleeful about throwing him to the wolves. “He’s on 2nd and Grim, for anyone who wants to drop by and tell him how much they missed him.” 

Jason cursed a blue streak and started off at a dead sprint as he reached for his grappling hook. It was a lot slower than usual since he was swinging two enormous bags of books. …Could he even grapple with these? Goddamn. He’d be over the weight limit. He cursed even harder and put the hook back.

“Heading west,” Oracle said cheerfully, and then clicked off a bare instant before he manually mashed the damn power button on his setup. Nope, nope, nope, he was not dealing with this shit tonight. 

He made it about four blocks and was so goddamn close to a safehouse (one of Bruce’s, but he could put it on lockdown) when a wailing blue and black blur emerged from the skies.

“We thought you died,” Nightwing warbled at him. Jesus fucking christ, he had been crying. His face was wet. Jason tried to duck away but he was too laden. He struggled against the hold for a few futile seconds before he went limp.

Dick sniffled into his chest. 

“Shut up,” Jason said, shoulders nearly up to his ears. He didn’t need to hear any criticism of how he had handled that cult situation, or any grieving about how this had made people think of the time he got brutally beaten to death. 

“I’m not saying anything,” Dick mumbled. He gave one more squeeze before withdrawing. “Huge relief to see you in the-what do you have there?” He dove down into the bags of books before Jason could kick him away. He was already prying the bag open by the time he asked. Jason tried to pull it away but it was impossible to keep Dick’s grabby hands out of your business.

“He went to a library,” Nightwing announced to the comms, outraged. “We thought he was dead and he went to a library!”

Someone laughed loudly on the comms. The brat turned on his comms explicitly to scoff.

“Did you rob a library?” Dick’s voice went high. “There’s so much here!” He flipped things around. “There- these are the same book? Hood, why do you have so many copies of the same book?”

“They’re not the same,” Jason snapped. “Get your grubby hands off of them!” He took his things back and edged away, glowering at his dumb asshole brother. “If you came to gawk, you did it, so now fuck off. You can clearly see that I am fine.”

“Jason,” Batman rasped, like the goddamn creep he was. Jason spun to see that he’d come up from behind. He lurched closer. He looked like hell. His knuckles were bloody and his pulse was jumping in his throat.

“No names in masks,” Jason snapped. He put his hands up to keep Bruce at a distance. “That’s your own rule, old man!”

It was no use. He endured the bullshit while his dumbass Dad made sure he wasn’t dead again, but he drew the line at letting Bruce clutch him and probably sob under his sweaty cowl like a weirdo. 

“I should have stayed there,” Jason grumbled. He patted at Bruce’s back. “There, there, asshole. You’re fine.”

[bkgml]

puppy love !!

1:16pm

kats 💕: come to supply closet

yn: ugh i want to so bad but kami pissed off aizawa and he’s put us on lockdown ☹️

kats 💕: are u fr

yn: im sorry can u wait like ten minutes for him to calm down pls

kats 💕: fine.

you tap your foot impatiently for the next five minutes while watching aizawas anger slightly fade away, slowly but surely.

taking a deep breath and standing from your seat, you begin to walk towards your irritable teacher. you can feel your friends eyes wide and gaping at you in shock.

“mr aizawa, could i use the restroom?” you ask, faking confidence.

he takes a deep inhale before looking at you like you are the most infuriating thing on his mind right now.

“must you?” he asks annoyed and you shuffle on your feet before nodding.

he sighs again, taking his eyes off you and resuming his attention on his computer screen.

you stand there confused for a full two minutes before he sighs and stares at you once more.

“…go??” he mutters, as if you should’ve already anticipated his answer and gotten out of his hair.

you thank him and rush down the hall, passing the girls washroom, and the class katsuki’s supposed to be in, before finally reaching the supply closet.

you check your surroundings before grinning at the absence of people in the barren hallway before entering the supply closet.

“hi.” you say, backing up against the door to shut it and holding your bottom lip between your teeth to suppress your smile.

your boyfriend looks up from his phone, frown turning into a smile of his own that’s reserved only for your eyes.

“took you long enough.” he says, feigning annoyance.

you giggle and play with your fingers while continuing to lean against the door.

“you know aizawa.” you defend.

he hums, taking slow steps towards you.

“yeah.” he says, looking at your lips.

“i do.” he mumbles, mostly to himself as he grabs you from your spot against the door and presses you against one of the many shelves holding various cleaning products.

you squeal as he does so before you feel his lips press to yours, filled with love and the excitement of a fresh relationship.

you continue giggling as he presses several kisses upon your waiting lips.

getting slightly fed up he moves to your cheek, giving you sloppy kisses on purpose to make you squirm.

“k-kats.” you heave between fits of giggles.

“you deserve it.” he says, licking his lips to make them almost disgustingly wet as he continues to kiss along your face.

“stop it tickles!” you gasp, attempting to push your boyfriend away.

“uh uh.” he mumbles and bites your nose.

“oh!” you squeal.

“you’re so- ugh! gross!!” you whine.

he finally ends his attack and you struggle to stand as you gasp from laughing too hard.

“oh my god, kats.” you pant.

he smiles at you, reaching down and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before questioning you.

“what?” he asks gently. too gently for that post attack mode you’re in.

“you’re so annoying.” you frown, wiping his spit off your cheek.

he laughs softly, caging you in the shelves once more.

he lowers his head to your chest, resting there while you clean yourself off and smooth out your hair.

when you finish you sigh, dragging your fingers through his locks of hair.

he smiles softly.

“i missed you, you know.” he mumbles, not looking you in the eyes.

“yeah?” you ask, grinning.

he huffs, shoving your face away with his hand.

before you can retaliate you feel him place warm kisses up your neck, free of spit. while he makes his way up your face his hands make their way around your waist.

you hum, satisfied with this treatment and wait patiently until he makes it to your lips.

when he does, you smile as he pulls away to look into your eyes. then presses his lips to yours sweetly.

the two of you share soft kisses for another 15 minutes until you have to part ways.

9:37pm

yn: can i sleep over tonight?? 🫶🏻

kats 💕: fuck yes get over here

yn: SPRINTING!!

katsuki heard a soft knock on his door before you come barrelling in, jumping on him while he lays in his bed and he catches you, scooping you up and plopping you on his lap.

“what was the point of even knocking if you didn’t let me get the door?” he asks.

“well i wanted to give you a warning, what if you were watching porn or something?” you smile, shoving your face in his neck and nuzzling.

“i knew you were coming over!” he groans.

“well what if you wanted to schedule in a quick wank before i got here?” you ask, giggling to yourself and pulling back to look at him.

he drags a hand over his face in annoyance.

“you’re so…” he trails off, huffing and removing his hand from his face.

“so…. kissable?” you ask before pecking his lips.

“hmm.” he faux ponders for a moment before grabbing your hips with strong hands and squeezing tightly.

“….yeah.” he decides, kissing you and letting your arms wrap around his neck in agreement.

[retrievablememories]

cherry bomb | part 2 | jungkook (m)

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

summary: after your town goes into lockdown because of the cherry bomb massacre, you find out that the murderer's interest is on you. eventually, you’re left with no choice but to face him.

genre: horror/slasher, angst, smut, college!au

word count: 13.7k

warnings: major character deaths, gaslighting, hallucinations, anxiety/paranoia, grief, trauma, violence (including knife and gun use), torture, blood, gore, descriptions of dead bodies, a funeral scene, fuckboy!JK, oral (fem receiving), fingering, finger-sucking, handjob, cumplay(?), hair-pulling

a/n: this part is quite rougher than the first, so heed the warnings. same notes as the last part—not meant to be entirely realistic since this *is* a slasher. block/filter as needed. i didn’t mention this in part 1 but this fic is not set in present day; more like somewhere in the 2000s? i don’t think this fic would work as well with all this advanced technology/the prevalence of social media now

...also, i had this story all written out and then decided to completely change the plot at the last minute because i figured out a way to write the original plot i had wanted to do from the beginning. 💀 yeah…just leave your thoughts below

taglist is at the very bottom of the fic—for some reason i wasn't able to tag everyone who requested, so please reblog this fic so folks can see it

sources for the fic dividers: one | two

link to part 1

you’re standing in front of some stranger’s house in the early hours of the morning, your body heavy from exhaustion as your adrenaline has run out. this is not at all how you expected your night to end when you left your dorm hours ago. it must’ve taken at least 40 minutes to get to this house, and you’re less familiar with this part of town, which you try not to feel uneasy about. you suppose the farther away from the scene of the carnage, the better.

jungkook bangs on the door, calling out the name yoongi-hyung until the porch light comes on. though it’s illogical, you’re tense with apprehension that the murderer could somehow appear at any moment, and you hope whoever yoongi is lets the both of you in soon. so much for no longer looking over your shoulder.

a man with hair just as long as jungkook’s answers the door, looking disheveled and annoyed. “why the fuck are you banging down my door at nearly 2 am—"

yoongi stops speaking as he eyes the both of you up and down, his gaze going from the bite mark bruises you left on jungkook’s neck to the dried blood on your face to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. his expression is between surprise and curiosity. “what the fuck is going on here?”

“can we talk inside?” jungkook says, though he doesn’t wait for an invitation before pushing his way past the other man and stepping inside.

“uh…hi. sorry.” you step inside too, glad to not be out in the open anymore.

yoongi takes another look outside the door at the state of jungkook’s car before closing and locking it. “mind explaining this shit? i thought you were going to that party you told me about?

“i did,” jungkook says, his voice full of frustration. “the fucking killer showed up at the party.”

“the fuck are you talking about?”

“you know what i’m talking about. that werewolf-masked freak? he came and just started stabbing people to death. we watched him shoot a fraternity member in front of us, dude. that’s why my car looks the way it does.”

“the campus is probably dangerous,” you add. “that’s why we came here. we just need somewhere safe to stay for the night.”

yoongi goes to the window and draws back the curtain. he peeks out the small holes in the side of the blinds rather than pushing the blinds down to look outside. “and you’re certain he didn’t follow you here? i thought he only killed virgins anyway. why the hell was he shooting at you?” then yoongi turns away from the window and looks at you. “oh. is this why?”

feeling put on the spot, you blurt out: “look, i don’t think that matters much anymore. he seemed to be killing anybody who was in his way.”

“and he was on foot the whole time, so there’s no way he could’ve followed us,” jungkook adds.

yoongi shakes his head and walks away from the window. “whole town is fucked, then. come on.”

you’re relieved to be able to scrub the blood off your face and change into fresh clothes. you initially thought it was peculiar that yoongi had spare clothes ready for you to wear until he alluded to keeping them on hand for any of jungkook’s hookups that he brings over.

“sure—of course.” you’d just nodded and tried not to look embarrassed as you accepted the clothes.

even after showering you don’t feel entirely clean, though. you think it might be impossible to return to feeling anything like your former self after tonight.

the couch has a pull-out bed, so it’s not as uncomfortable as it would be just sleeping on a regular sofa, which you are grateful for. you’re still arranging the pillow and blankets when jungkook walks into the room holding his own bedding.

“i think i should sleep here,” he says.

“there’s no room on the couch for the both of us,” you protest, thinking he means to take your spot.

“i mean on the floor. earlier, you didn’t seem like you wanted to be left alone in here.”

“oh.” you try to take the edge out of your voice; it’s hard to be polite when you’re still so overwhelmed with stress. “that’ll be uncomfortable though.”

jungkook just waves his hand and dumps his pillow and blanket on the floor before going to push the coffee table out of the way. “doesn’t really matter, i think we’ve been through worse tonight than sleeping on a hard floor…”

“thanks,” you say quietly, watching him spread his blanket out on the ground. you want to say something else, but you can’t think of anything.

“it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

after a few more moments of staring at jungkook as he arranges his sleeping area, you finally ask, “i was wondering how’d you meet yoongi? he doesn’t seem like he’s a college student. i’ve never seen him around our campus, at least.”

“he isn’t. he works as a music producer, so he’s out of town a lot, but this is his homebase. as for how we met—it’s a long story. he and my brother actually used to know each other, so…” you think he’ll explain further, but he just shakes his head. “but he’s a good friend.”

“i see. a music producer…nice. how cool for a little town like this.”

after everything is to his liking, jungkook gets under the blanket. “tonight was a lot, so try to get some sleep.”

you nod and turn the lamp off, though you’re doubting you’ll get any peace tonight. “yeah…you too.”

--

SATURDAY MORNING, NOV 4

you wake up around 11 a.m. on a strange couch wearing strange clothes in a strange room. with your brain’s half-conscious state, your terror reawakens; you think maybe you’ve been kidnapped by the murderer and the car ride with jungkook last night was a dream—until yoongi pops into your mind.

you try to regulate your breathing and settle back beneath the blanket, though you know you won’t be going back to sleep.

you haven’t gotten more than an hour of sleep in total, broken up into 20-minute intervals across the hours. every time you’ve tried to close your eyes and drift off, you see the frat member’s skull bursting apart again, shocking your entire nervous system. you can think of nothing but the piles of bodies and the deaths you witnessed. perhaps it’s better that you don’t sleep; you figure your dreams wouldn’t be any more tolerable than your thoughts.

as you shift around on the couch, your whole body screams with soreness. your arms, your ribs, your sides, your legs, and—to a lesser extent—even between your thighs where jungkook was last night.

you glance over and see that he’s still sprawled on the floor, blanket halfway kicked off. he’s actually awake, his face turned away from you as he blinks slowly and stares at nothing, but he doesn’t say anything and so neither do you. with you spending most of your night awake, you saw that he was able to get more rest than you did. lucky him.

it hurts to move, but you reach for your phone and check for any signs of lorelai. none. there is one text from camille, sent 40 minutes ago.

➤ camille: I talked to Lorelai’s sister. She went to go see about a missing persons report. The police took her information but didn’t seem very concerned about it and said she might have just stayed the night with other friends after the party. Apparently a lot of others had the same idea as you. Campus is a ghost town. They’re still identifying all the bodies, so no word yet.

➤ y/n: so we just have to sit here and wait to see if she’ll turn up alive or dead? that’s useless.

➤ camille: As per fucking usual with the pigs.

➤ camille: She also told me there’s supposed to be a lockdown or something. It’s on the news.

➤ y/n: a lockdown???

looking around the room, you spot the TV remote sitting on yoongi’s coffee table a few feet away. you try to sit up, but it takes you a couple minutes longer than you anticipate because of the pain. jungkook notices the movement from the corner of his eye and turns to look at you. “what are you doing?”

“tryna get the remote.”

jungkook grabs it and hands it to you, and you turn the TV to one of the local news channels.

➤ camille: They’re telling people not to leave their homes for anything non-essential while they search for him. Not sure how long that’s supposed to last. I guess now they wanna get serious about this fucking killer? Too late for that.

you and jungkook watch as the newscaster gives a rundown of last night’s events; to your small relief, it looks like the killer didn’t try to go to the campus after the murders at the party house. the newscaster goes on to announce that the police are instating a citywide curfew, which they’ll discuss further at a press conference in the afternoon. in the meantime, they advise everyone to only travel in groups, shelter in place if possible, and keep all windows and doors locked.

you laugh humorlessly, and jungkook glances at you again. “in groups? we were all packed into one damn house at the party, and how much did that help?”

➤ y/n: are you sure you’re okay at the uni?

➤ camille: I’m fine. My roommate brought some of her friends into our room so no one’s left alone. Either way, my dad is coming to help me move some of my things out and come back home.

➤ y/n: okay, please just stay safe.

➤ camille: You too.

“what now?” jungkook says once the newscast goes off. “everybody just stays holed up for like a month while they hunt for that guy?”

you roll your eyes. “people won’t stay in their homes for that long. i don’t know how any of this is gonna work. we wouldn’t be in this mess now if they’d cared when this first started happening.”

“you think so? students would still be getting killed. the only difference is that a good chunk of people would just be sitting at home freaking the fuck out and too scared to go anywhere while the killer would still be on the loose.”

“…damn. it’s truly bleak to assume we’d still be in the same situation. you’re an optimistic one.”

“better than deluding yourself about it.”

“whatever. where’s your family to freak out over you? somebody should be concerned about your whereabouts by now. didn’t you say you have a brother? speaking of, i’m gonna have to call my sister soon…”

jungkook turns back to the TV, and you can tell he’s become more tense than he was seconds ago. “yeah, but i’m estranged from them. yoongi’s my family.”

wrong thing to ask. you wonder about the reason for it but decide it’s probably better not to pry. “ah…that sucks.”

jungkook looks back at you like he’s irked by that response, but he makes a noise resembling a chuckle. “tell me about it.”

later that afternoon, after you’ve reassured your sister veronica on her work break that you are fine and at a “friend’s” house (because you have no clue how to refer to either of these men), you and yoongi sit at the kitchen table with brunch while jungkook goes outside to examine the damage to his car more closely.

it’s difficult to eat, but you do so anyway; you don’t want to be rude by wasting the food yoongi made. the news station still plays loudly from the living room as you wait for the press conference to come on.

“so, about you and jungkook...” yoongi starts, looking at you from over the rim of his cup of coffee.

“what about me and jungkook?”

“we both know he didn’t get those bites on his neck from a wild animal attack.”

you sit up straighter in your seat, a sudden spike of irritation hitting you. “aren’t we all grown here? who cares?” you try to sound unbothered despite feeling very green about all of this. after all, you’d only had sex for the first time last night.

“look, i don’t care. fuck him all you want. i’m just trying to advise you not to get emotionally involved, because that’s not how jungkook operates. the amount of girls i’ve had somehow coming after my neck when their situationship with him doesn’t work out is starting to get really old. it’d be best if you didn’t do the same.”

you’re simultaneously annoyed at his assumption of you and flustered because you want to prove him wrong about acting the same as the other girls. you hate both feelings. “i don’t want anything like that with him. i just needed something done and i got it. it doesn’t matter anymore.”

yoongi shrugs, and you get the sense he’s heard that before and isn’t convinced, but you can’t be bothered going back and forth with him about this.

the press conference comes on TV a few minutes later. they announce that classes at your university are cancelled indefinitely; parents and relatives will need to come move their students out, and the school will be operating with a skeleton staff and increased security presence for any students who can’t leave the campus. the citywide curfew will be at 8 p.m. every night, by which time almost everyone will need to be in their homes, and it will end at 6 a.m each morning.

“fun,” you say sarcastically. “at least i won’t have to worry about finals and trying not to get murdered at the same time.”

when jungkook comes back inside, you let him know about what he missed from the press conference.

“we should just stay here for now.” when you raise your eyebrows, jungkook says, “i basically live here when i’m not on campus for classes. plus yoongi-hyung lets me bring girls here all the time, this is nothing new.”

“if both of you are gonna be hiding out in my place, we’ll need to go to the store,” yoongi says. “more mouths to feed.”

“…or i could just go home?” you propose, your mind reeling at them already making plans. you feel awkward about staying in a stranger’s house for who knows how long. “i think we only really needed to stay here for the night. it’s fine.”

“will you have people there with you?” jungkook asks. “it’s not safe to be alone.”

you’re surprised he seems to be this concerned, but you answer: “well, i mean…my sister works 12-hour shifts as a nurse and she’s the only one living there, so…” you’d chosen your university because your older sister lived in the area, and because it was a tradition for women in your family to attend that school, but there were no other relatives you could turn to. your parents lived a couple of towns away.

yoongi comes to the conclusion so you don’t have to. “in other words, you’ll be alone most of the day.”

“…i guess. but i’m really not tryna impose on you by staying here.”

yoongi tilts his head, a small smirk on his lips. you automatically dislike the look on his face. “why don’t you take jungkook with you, then?”

you and jungkook glance at each other. “but, hyung…”

yoongi shakes his head. “you already know i can take care of myself. seriously, don’t worry about it.” and then yoongi winks at you. you don’t know for sure, but you take that to mean he’s probably packing heat like camille’s dad.

“if you’re sure.” turning to you, jungkook says, “so, how about it?”

“it’s my sister’s house, so i’ll have to ask her,” you say tentatively. “yeah…uh. let me do that now, i guess.” you pull out your phone to text her about it, though you know it’ll be a while before she gets another work break and can answer. “in the meantime…i think we’ll need to go to the store either way. and then to campus to pick our things up.”

“you’re right. let’s go then,” jungkook says.

the store is full of people panic-buying food and necessities in preparation for the curfew and effective lockdown, which you expected. you and jungkook end up going your separate ways to find the things you need because it’s quicker that way, and because you want to get in and out of the store as soon as possible. the crowdedness is too much like the party, and despite yourself, anxiety begins rising in you due to the claustrophobic atmosphere. you try to maintain even breaths as you keep searching for items. just what you need—a shiny new trauma to make your life harder.

you pass by a man in one of the less-crowded aisles before realizing he’s standing in front of what you need to get, examining one of the food packages. you wait a few moments to see if he’ll finish up soon, and when your eyes begin to wander, you see that there’s a long gray hair clinging to the back of his leather jacket, standing out clearly against the black. you probably wouldn’t have noticed this at all on any other day, except your mind has been on high alert for hours now; you find it strange that this strand clearly doesn’t match the shade or length of the hair on his head, which is short and plain brown. the shade of the hair also weirdly reminds you of something, though you can’t quite recall what; it remains just out of your mind’s reach.

you shake your head. he could’ve come to the store with somebody who has long gray hair, or hugged them before he left home, and a strand stuck to his jacket. it’s the least of your issues right now.

the man must feel your presence behind him because he turns around to look at you. you’re a little taken aback by his gaze; his expression isn’t mean per se, but very intense, as if his entire focus is trained on you.

there’s a second’s pause, like he’s thinking about something before he speaks. “am i in your way?” he asks, never breaking eye contact. his voice doesn’t portray any particular emotion.

“i just have to get something really quick.” he steps aside and gestures to the rows of food without a word. you slip in beside him and grab what you need before moving away again. “thanks.” you think about telling him about the hair on his jacket but decide against it; your decision is solidified when you spot a wolf figurine keychain on his keys, faded from time but still distinguishable. it makes your breath catch.

there’s no way it could be him. it was kind of dark in the party house with nothing but string lights and lamps illuminating it, and everything happened so quickly…but you do remember the colors of that mask. red, yellow, black—and that dark gray for the fur.

but maybe it’s really all just a coincidence; how much sense would it make to turn every person with wolf paraphernalia and random stray hairs into a suspect?

you walk down the rest of the aisle and away from the man with growing unease. maybe it’s time to find jungkook so you can get out of here; you can hardly keep yourself together, and despite your best attempts at logic, you can’t stop yourself from getting more frantic about those two things.

speeding up your walk and weaving through people, you look down every aisle in search for jungkook before you find him, rushing over to him as you breathe heavily.

“whoa, what the hell is wrong? did somebody do something?”

“no, i…”

“what happened?”

“it’s the…well, the…i saw, uh…”

“y/n.”

“i saw—the mask. the fur from the mask. do you remember it?”

“…you mean that stupid ass werewolf mask?” you gesture for jungkook to lower his voice. “wait, you’re saying you saw it in here?”

“no, i saw a man who had a strand of hair on his jacket…” it starts sounding ridiculous to your own ears the more you speak, but you continue. “the strand—it was the same color as that fur. the same length! and he—he had some weird wolf keychain…”

jungkook stares at you for a long moment before sighing. “you’re not serious? a random strand of hair that could be from anybody or anything? that could be from someone’s fucking grandma for all we know. plus a keychain…maybe he just likes wolves, y/n.”

you already know that saying i just feel like something is off won’t be enough to convince him. you sigh with a deep sense of defeat, considering that he’s probably right. maybe your initial assumption was the more sensible answer. “…right. i think i’m just really fucked up right now after everything that happened. can we finish up here?”

“yeah, we will. because you definitely need to lay down soon or something. you haven’t had any sleep all night, right?” the way jungkook eyes you with concern as if you’ve lost your mind annoys you. you’re about to give a smart remark when you notice something in the carrying-basket he has.

“…a baseball bat?”

“if the killer comes after us again, duh. we’ll be prepared this time. or at least i will.”

“good luck with that if he happens to have another gun.” rolling your eyes, you brush past jungkook to go to one of the checkout counters.

in the parking lot, you see that the man from earlier has also come out and is putting the last of his grocery bags into his car trunk. there’s really nothing spectacular about his appearance that would make him stand out in a crowd, with his average height and average looks, let alone incriminate him as a serial killer. yet that familiar unease won’t leave.

he sees you and jungkook walking towards the car together, and his eyes dart to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. then he makes eye contact with you. you give a half-hearted wave, unsure what else to do with his eyes stuck on you. for a moment, his lips turn up into the faintest smile before he shakes his head and gets into his own car.

--

MONDAY, NOV 6

you’ve spent half of saturday and all of sunday trying to get used to living in your sister’s house with jungkook. veronica had been surprisingly okay with having him stay over, though most of it was her being relieved you finally found “a potential boyfriend who’s actually cute.” you didn’t have the energy to argue with her.

you’ve also been constantly checking on camille (to her eventual annoyance) and seeing if there are any more updates on lorelai. still nothing. your dread grows the further away you get from that bloody friday, but you try to keep your thoughts from straying too darkly.

right now, you, veronica, and jungkook all sit on the couch together in a neat little row, a bowl of popcorn in front of you on the coffee table and some science-fiction B-movie playing on the TV. your sister proposed the idea to distract yourselves from everything going on, but so far, you feel like it isn’t very effective. at least not for you. your mind keeps wandering to other things every 5 minutes.

eventually, veronica yawns widely, stretching her arms and legs before rising off the couch. “okay, i’m getting tired as fuck. i need to go to sleep for work tomorrow anyway. you guys enjoy the rest of the movie, okay?” she pats your shoulder as she passes by you on her way out of the room.

jungkook waves. “oh, sure. goodnight.”

“night, sis.”

when jungkook’s attention goes back to the movie, your sister makes eye contact with you and points her finger at you menacingly. you give her a shocked look while she mouths you know what i mean and swirls her finger in jungkook’s direction. embarrassed at the implication, you roll your eyes and turn your head back to the TV screen. having sex with jungkook on your sister’s couch is not high on your list of priorities tonight.

after your sister is gone, jungkook spreads out on the couch like it’s his own living room, placing his legs right over your lap. you sigh, looking over at him—and hoping that your eyes don’t linger too obviously on the expanse of thigh muscle that’s now on display from his shorts riding up higher.

“…really? i don’t want your big ole legs in my lap.”

jungkook just grins. “you should lay down too, it’s more comfortable this way.” you stare at him, and he tries to egg you on by pulling the sleeve of your shirt. “come on.”

“i’m not laying down on top of you, if that’s what you’re after.”

you do end up lying down, but on the opposite side of the couch so that your legs are tangled together, which really just increases the amount of contact between you either way—but whatever.

this makes jungkook laugh more. “ha, it’s like we’re scissoring.”

“so damn corny.”

you two continue watching the rest of the movie, but by the end of it you don’t remember half of what happened. taking the remote, you flip through the channels and try to find something else to look at. there isn’t much interesting to watch on a random monday night—which would be a school night anyway, if not for the current context.

as you search for a channel, jungkook asks: “what would you do if you found out who the killer was?”

you squint your eyes at his odd question. maybe the obvious answer would be to alert the police. but after days of having your anger stoked like a fire, that’s not exactly the answer you’d choose. “maybe i’d kill him.” the words leave your lips easily, and you hardly think twice about them once they’re out.

neither of you speak for a few long moments.

“does that scare you?” you ask, after the silence starts annoying you. you want to laugh, but there’s nothing really funny about the situation.

“…not really. angry women are kinda sexy. so are dangerous ones.”

you scoff. “i’m not tryna be sexy, you fool. and how many dangerous women have you dealt with? seems to me you only have a thing for the innocents.”

“it’s not like i only fuck virgins. you don’t even know me like that.” he nudges your leg with his foot like he’s also annoyed, but his expression doesn’t show any actual irritation.

“…if you want to go back and forth about it, go outside and argue with the wall or something. i’m in no mood, jungkook.” you shove his foot off of you. “just, holy shit. i wish i could have just one hour where i don’t have to think about any of this shit. my mind can’t even breathe.”

he’s actually quiet for a couple minutes after. you think he’s moved on from the conversation until he finally says, “i can give you an hour.”

your body becomes alert at that. the insinuation in his tone is obvious. you glance backwards as if your sister could hear you from upstairs, though you know that’s illogical. “i got what i wanted from you already,” you whisper.

“so? what if i wanted to give you more? you know you’re allowed to have sex with a person more than once, yeah?” he chuckles.

here he is making you this offer, and once again you feel like you’ve been reduced to the state of a confused lamb in front of a hungry wolf. you realize that the idea of letting yourself get more physically entangled with jungkook scares you. he is not someone you can turn into a boyfriend, who wants to be a boyfriend, and you are only looking to save yourself from any potential hurt. “it would just be sex—right? you have to know i’m not looking for anything deeper from you.”

jungkook smirks. like with yoongi, you don’t know if he believes you. “i know.”

you want to undo almost everything from the past few days. you can’t forget, but for a while, you want to just exist outside of the timeline where there’s a killer on the loose and one of your friends is missing. it’s too much to handle; your body is approaching its limits for the amount of stress it can take. you need a balm to numb the pain and the fear, and you dislike that you are giving into your base instincts to do so. you feel guilty, somehow. but pleasure is easy. at least it has been whenever you sought it on your own—and now you have someone else to give it to you. someone who is in front of you now, proposing it with all the willingness in the world. maybe there’s really nothing wrong with saying yes.

“jungkook…”

“hm?”

“please just shut the fuck up and don’t say another word about the outside world right now. i don’t want to think about anything but your…” you falter, still trying to get used to expressing what you want sexually.

jungkook sits up, his hands sliding up your legs and to your hips. “but my what?”

“um, your…” your thoughts end when he leans down and pulls the hem of your sweater up, planting a kiss on your waist where your skin meets the waistband of your sweatpants. one kiss turns into a second, and a third. the fourth becomes an open-mouthed embrace of his lips on your skin, and you make a small noise of pleasure when his tongue gets involved.

“careful. don’t want veronica to come down here, remember?”

you huff. “that isn’t happening any time soon, believe me.”

his kisses continue as he begins to slide your sweatpants down, revealing the waistband of your panties. once they’re fully on display, he leans forward to nuzzle his face between your thighs, his mouth and nose pressing into the seat of your underwear. his actions take you off guard. you actually give a brief chuckle from surprise, though you are also somewhat embarrassed. “now what the hell are you doing?”

“let me savor my meal before i eat it.” his warm breaths tickle your inner thighs as he speaks.

“ugh, don’t turn me off.”

“that’s funny, because i seem to have an easy time getting you wet.” to prove it, his fingers press into the seat of your underwear to feel the wetness that’s seeped into them; you sigh from the brief pleasure his fingers’ movements afford you before he pulls them away.

jungkook drags your panties down next, his lips trailing down your lower abdomen and across the curls of hair covering your pubic mound. your body fills with anticipation at the gradual pace of his actions and the purposeful, wet caresses of his mouth.

when he uses his thumbs to press your lower lips apart and expose you more fully to him, you have half a mind to be self-conscious about it until he places his mouth on you in earnest.

jungkook eats like someone who hasn’t done so in a while and doesn’t know when he’ll get to do it again. his mouth sucks at your clit like he’s desperate for you to come, tongue rolling over the swollen nub in an unrelenting pattern that has your stomach tensing, and you quickly realize you do have to try to silence yourself even if you know it won’t wake veronica up. you twist your hands into the sleeves of your sweater and lean your head back on the couch’s armrest as you arch your hips up closer to jungkook’s face, uncaring about how vulnerable you feel completely offering yourself up to him like this; right now, all you want is to feel good.

“gonna come quick again? maybe we can set a new record?” jungkook pins your knee against the couch with his elbow to keep your legs open as he slides two fingers inside, diving straight in instead of working you up this time. your body breaks out in a sweat and you know you really won’t last long once he does this, the tips of his fingers aiming for that dreadful, wonderful, and overpowering place inside you. you don’t know how people do this—you feel like you’re going to die when he stimulates that spot, and all you want to do is scream even though you can’t.

“a r-record? fuck off…” you choke out, though you begin to rock your hips into the rhythm of his fingers, needing so badly for him to take you over the edge again.

he chuckles. “i don’t think you want me to fuck off right now.”

you have no words for a good comeback when he buries his head between your legs and slurps at your pussy again and crooks his fingers repeatedly to where your orgasm is unexpectedly rushing down upon you, causing your body to tense as you gasp and stifle any sounds that escape with your sweater sleeve.

jungkook doesn’t stop there and you don’t really expect him to, because you’re beginning to learn he isn’t a one-and-done type of man. he keeps sucking and stroking you right into another releasewhile you push the beanie off his head, fist your fingers into his strands, and tremble over the sight of his pitch-black mess of hair between your thighs. something about the visual is so appealing to you.

after he has made you come for the third time, you watch him sit up on his knees to reach into his shorts and pull his dick out, his darkened tip slick with precum. his long hair falls into his face as he glances downward, using the hand he’d been fingering you with to lube himself up with your cum.

“come here,” you tell him, your voice coming out sharper than you intended; but he doesn’t care, because he follows your request without a word and presses himself into your side. the couch is just big enough to accommodate both of you in this position, but it’s still a tight fit, and your bodies are once again tangled together.

“let me touch you,” you say, your palm pressed to his stomach, feeling the firmness of the muscle.

he raises his eyebrows, like you didn’t even need to ask. “of course.”

“no, i mean…” he realizes what you actually mean as you brush his hand away from his shaft and wrap your fingers around it instead.

“should i teach you how?” jungkook brings his hand to overlap yours, though his breath becomes a bit strained when you slide your hand to the base of his cock and back to the tip again, the pads of your fingers rubbing over the sensitive head. seeing your fingers around him turns him on more than he thought it could, and it’s just a simple fucking handjob.

you roll your eyes. “stroking a dickshouldn’t be that hard.”

“everyone likes it differently, though. fast, slow, soft, or rough…just the tip, or the whole shaft.” you can’t deny that—or the way you find yourself throbbing at his words, his voice husky from the pleasure. which is why you let jungkook close his hand more fully around yours and guide your movements.

it’s captivating to observe his reactions from your hand on his skin—the heavy breaths he lets out and the soft moans and even softer whimpers that come in between the exhales. whenever you squeeze his shaft more firmly or rub your thumb against his leaking tip, you find yourself grinning at the rise and fall of his chest and the tongue that darts out of his mouth to lick at his lips. but mostly, your eyes are drawn back to the sight of your hand working him over, his thighs and stomach tensing sporadically.

eventually, you both look away from your joined hands and at each other’s faces. your eyes dart to his lips and back to his gaze again, and you shift your face forward to signal your desire for a kiss. he meets you there by pressing his lips to yours, and it isn’t hard for him to get lost in the meeting of your mouths and the heat from your palm on his shaft.

your free hand returns to his soft hair to tug on it as your tongues slide against each other. he grunts at the burn of his roots being pulled but doesn’t stop you; on the contrary, his body responds favorably as more precum swells from his tip and his nipples poke against the material of his shirt.

“do you like that, jungkook?” you mumble against his mouth.

“you know i do.” at some point, his hand falls away and he lets you stroke him on your own.

jungkook gives a shuddering moan into your mouth when he climaxes minutes later, thick streams of his cum shooting onto his shirt and dripping down your hand. he tries to keep quiet and doesn’t entirely succeed, but it doesn’t much matter.

you squeeze the few remaining drops of cum from his cockhead, trying to make sure you don’t grip hard enough to actually hurt him. you pull your sticky hand away from jungkook when you think he’s finally emptied, but he grabs your wrist and you look at him questioningly. you watch with shocked eyes as jungkook brings your hand up and takes your messy fingers into his mouth, sucking his cum from them. you know instinctively it isn’t the first time he’s done this—not with the look of pure satisfaction on his features as he licks his own seed off your fingers.

his enthusiastic pleasure is part of the reason why you accept when jungkook gives you a crushing kiss, passing his cum from his tongue to yours. you don’t know what you expected it to taste like, but it isn’t gross like you’ve heard others complain about when sharing their sex tales; despite being salty, the overall taste is neutral. still, it takes some getting used to.

when you pull away from each other, noses brushing and lips wet from each other’s spit, you look into his dark brown eyes and get the sudden desire to say something that’s been buried in the back of your mind for days now.

“why did you come straight to me that night?” you whisper. “like you already knew who you were there for.”

jungkook stares back, his lips curving up slightly. “i just wanted to. or i wanted you, more specifically.”

“that’s not an answer.”

“well, it’s my answer.”

“was i another one to knock off your list?”

“you think i have a list?”

“i’m not stupid. it’s not unusual for guys to have a list. plus, plenty of rumors go around.”

jungkook taps his fingers underneath your chin and kisses you on the lips again, though it is brief. “stop believing everything you hear.”

you clearly won’t be getting a straight answer from him tonight. with the moment broken, you sigh and begin pulling your bottoms back on. “…whatever you say, dude.” once you’re dressed, you climb over his body to get off the couch. you poke him in the chest as your eyes roam over him in his disheveled state, his shorts pulled down and his cum staining his black shirt. “might wanna clean yourself up, huh? i’m going to sleep. and, yeah…thanks for the distraction.”

--

TUESDAY, NOV 7

with the weather being as cold as it is and heading toward winter in another month or so, lorelai is surprised by how quickly the bodies began to smell.

she doesn’t know much of anything about bodily decomposition—because, to her parents’ disappointment, she wasn’t about to be a biology major and have to be around cadavers in a dissection lab—but if this were a movie or something, she would’ve thought it would take longer than just one day. the smell started to hit her the saturday after the party.

but ultimately, this isn’t a movie, and the fact that she’s trapped in a decrepit house in some remote part of town is her present reality.

she doesn’t remember anything about how she got to this house; she thinks she must have been concussed before she was brought here. her head has been hurting badly for days, and not even the simple relief of a painkiller is available.

what she does know is that she’s being kept in a dirty living room on an equally dirty mattress, her hands and legs tied by rope and zip-ties. if there were any miniscule chance of her escaping, it would be impossible to go anywhere considering both her ankles are broken, only adding to the amount of physical pain she’s been in for days.

the living room is mostly empty except for the bodies of some other students from the party, which have been scattered around the room. lorelai tries not to look at them—especially not at the ones she knows—but it’s difficult. they become even more terrifying to her when night falls, turning into dark, rotting shadows in the corners of the room. there has been nothing but the company of these corpses for days, and a couple of visits from the killer.

he's never once taken off his wolf mask or his gloves, and every other part of his body stays covered in all black. she doesn’t have the first idea of what he looks like underneath it all. he has spoken to her a few times, but the voice isn’t one she recognizes. his words when she first awoke inside this house still knock around in her mind, filling her with dread.

he’d crouched in front of her, watching her move around on the mattress and try to orient herself. he had the casual air of someone observing a flipped-up bug struggle on the sidewalk before crushing it underfoot. “you aren’t y/n, but you’ll do for now. we’ll have some real fun later on. you’ll help me give her a good scare.”

“how the fuck do you know y/n?” lorelai had struggled against her restraints, but this only made her newly broken ankles hurt worse. tears began to fall from her eyes from the pain and fear.

the killer had said nothing to that—only tilted his head curiously and stared at her, which was unnerving even if she couldn’t see his eyes.

“you have no fucking reason to go after her, she’s not even a virgin anymore you dumb fuck—” with those words, the killer had backhanded her, sending her already injured head into a fresh wave of agony.

“things would’ve been different if not for that fucking party. you students think you’re so fucking clever, yeah? and look how you paid for it.” it was impossible to see any facial expression, but his body language spoke of anger. “no matter, though. virgin or not, i’ll see this through to the end.”

now it’s yet another morning, and he has returned. he has a lot of debris in his hands—stuff like sticks and dry moss and foliage. he’s also carrying a small bag, the contents of it a mystery. everything he does causes alarm for lorelai, but now confusion joins in.

“ready to have some fun?” he asks. with duct tape over her mouth, she can’t answer back. she watches as he arranges the debris on the ground in front of her, her anxiety mounting as he takes a lighter out of his pocket and sets fire to the foliage.

leaning forward, he rips part of the duct tape away from her mouth with his gloved hand, causing her face to sting. “got anything to say?”

“wh-what the fuck are you doing?”

“i’m gonna stoke a nice fire here…get this knife hot enough to hurt.” he brings out his knife then, and lorelai shrinks away from the blade as he drags the flat of it across her throat—but there’s nowhere else to go, as she’s sitting up against the wall. “then i’ll just cut this pretty little body up a bit. the finishing touch…i think i’ll slice your throat open. how does that sound?” he takes the knife away from her neck to hold the blade over the flames.

lorelai’s breath hitches, and her stomach begins to physically hurt from the outpouring of anxiety flowing through her. she starts to sob, trying to speak through the tears and snot and drool. the only question she can muster up is, “wh-why?”

“this is for y/n—remember? i hope that concussion hasn’t fucked with your memory.” the killer watches the reflection of the flames on the blade as it grows hotter. “and…i’m doing someone a favor.” he doesn’t wait for her to speak again before putting the duct tape back in place over her mouth, leaving her to cry to herself and face her rising distress as he heats the knife until it’s burning hot. internally, she wishes there was any way in the world to get out of this situation.

it isn’t much longer before he’s finished. lorelai screams as he approaches her with the knife, and then at the feeling of the red-hot blade scorching her skin, though the sounds are stifled by the duct tape.

“now, be still while i fix you up.”

--

WEDNESDAY, NOV 8

you go outside that afternoon to check the mail and have an excuse to get out of the house; it doesn’t matter if it’s only for a few moments. you’re not used to staying cooped up in one place for so long with absolutely nothing to do, and you feel like you’re not too far off from going mad with cabin fever. it hasn’t even been a week since everything happened.

you open the mailbox, and there are the usual bills along with something strange: a blank envelope with no return address. even your sister’s address isn’t written on it. flipping it over, you see that the envelope was never sealed. someone must’ve just come up and put it inside the mailbox. but who the hell would do that, and for what reason? whenever any of your neighbors have something to give you or your sister, they come straight up to the house to do it.

inside the envelope is a set of polaroids. their content makes you drop the rest of the mail. your legs grow weak, and you end up sitting down hard on the end of the driveway, some of the polaroids slipping from your hands. the pictures show the bodies of some of the students from your university, their corpses posed in odd positions and some bare of clothing—all dead.

you struggle to breathe as you frantically flip through the rest of the pictures. in the center of all the group photos is lorelai, her neck torn open and her wrists and ankles tied. she’s still dressed the way she was the night of the party, though her dress is stained with dark brown blood. there are open cuts all over her bare skin, their appearance rough-looking and uneven as if they’ve been cauterized.

there are several group polaroids, several of lorelai alone, and several angles of the outside of a house, which must be the same one the bodies are being kept in. one photo of lorelai slips out of your shaking hands, and you see there’s barely legible handwriting on the back of it, which reads, “this is just the teaser, y/n.”

you scream and don’t stop screaming until jungkook comes running out of the house holding the baseball bat, as if the killer might’ve gotten bold enough to attack in daylight. a couple of your neighbors peek out of their houses and make their way over with concern on their faces once they see you sitting on the ground, your exclamations ringing through the street.

there’s a disarrayed group of people around you grabbing at your shoulders and asking what’s wrong, what happened, and then gasps and exclamations of shock when they see the polaroids. you feel yourself being pulled to your feet and then lifted up—maybe it’s jungkook, because it smells like him—but you’re too disoriented to make proper sense of anything right now. you can only think of how much time has been wasted, and how little time lorelai actually had left.

--

SUNDAY, NOV 12

in the main lobby of the funeral home, you sit in a chair next to camille, staring into empty space while the other girl tries to cry as quietly as she can. she cries as if she’s ashamed of it, and you wish you could comfort her, but you don’t know what to say or do. for the past few days, you’ve mostly just felt numb.

you’re waiting for veronica to come back out so you can leave, as she’d stayed behind after the service to talk to lorelai’s family for a little longer.

lorelai’s family had opted to have her cremated after seeing the state of her body. a lot of other families did the same after the events of cherry bomb, not even wanting to entertain the idea of a closed-casket funeral. you can understand their feelings about it if you push through the haze in your mind to consider it for long enough. though the morticians have done the best they can over the past week, sometimes knowing that your loved one has multiple stab wounds and eviscerated organs beneath all the makeup and fancy clothing is too much to handle.

when veronica finally comes out, the three of you walk outside to join the rest of the people who’ve started getting in their cars. some still linger in small huddles, shaking their heads and wiping their faces.

jungkook, who’d driven you and veronica to the memorial, waits outside for you all, leaning on the side of the building. you both thought it was probably better for him not to attend the service considering lorelai was never fond of him and he didn’t know her that well.

“is it finished?” he asks.

“it is.” veronica sighs. “god, funerals are so damn…bleak.”

you notice a man waving at your group from the other side of the parking lot and realize it’s camille’s dad. her posture straightens when she catches sight of him, and she hurriedly tries to wipe the rest of her tears before shoving her tissue into her pocket. “i-i think my dad is waiting for me. i…i’ll see you guys later, alright?”

“okay, camille.” the strange absence of emotion that you’ve been trapped in for the past few days suddenly cracks open when you notice camille’s anxious demeanor as she speed-walks away from the rest of you. intense sorrow overtakes you; you don’t want her to leave, but she has to go.

you are crying before you fully understand what’s happening. veronica puts her arms around you and squeezes you against the side of her body. jungkook reaches a thumb up to wipe away your tears, though you don’t let him get very far before turning your head away and into veronica’s shoulder.

“y/n…”

“how am i supposed to go on?” you exclaim, catching the attention of a few people nearby. “the police said maybe she’s just staying with friends. and now look. plus, the killer knows where me and my sister live now…maybe he always knew.”

“we don’t even have a clue who the killer is…” jungkook mumbles. “there’s no one you know of who might have a grudge against you?”

“no, jungkook. the police already gave me all that questioning. and it doesn’t help me feel any better to think maybe all these deaths are somehow my fault.” you scoff.

“y/n, nothing’s your fault because some freak decided to go around killing people; that was his decision.” jungkook argues.

you nod slightly to his words but say nothing else, not wanting to go further into that topic. you don’t know if you can believe him about that.

the parking lot is emptying out now, so you try to pull yourself together so the three of you can leave. “well…you don’t need to keep staying with us if you don’t want to. we have those assigned bodyguards now, so…” you glance in the direction of one other car sitting beside jungkook’s—inside it are two men the police force appointed after the polaroids of the bodies were planted in your sister’s mailbox.

jungkook looks at you as if he’s trying to gauge your expression; he himself looks surprised, though he attempts to play it off. veronica glances between you both, recognizing the awkward shift in the air.

“you don’t want me there anymore? i mean it is your house—” he glances at veronica “—so that’s fine with me if—"

“what? i didn’t say i don’t want you there, neither did veronica, it’s just if you don’t want to be there—"

“i never said i didn’t want to be there, though?”

you both become quiet, jungkook looking at you and you returning his gaze for a few seconds before looking off to the side. veronica is still standing between you both like she’d rather be anywhere else on earth.

“i just figured that maybe…” why are you being so concerned about me? isn’t this the part where we go our separate ways? is what you really want to ask. you have seen and learned enough from your friends’ and even your acquaintances’ experiences to realize that any other one night stand would not have cared so much. that’s how these things go, right? but he isn’t really a one night stand anymore, either.

you don’t even know if you’re considered friends with benefits, but what would that change? you’d still seen others tossed aside without much thought by their FWBs while in times of need. considering his history, you don’t understand why jungkook isn’t following the same template now, and you don’t think you should ask why for fear of breaking the illusion.

fed up with your own confusion, you decide now isn’t the time to lament on your lack of knowledge about these things. “nevermind. that’s fine. so you’ll stay?”

the corner of his mouth lifts in a brief smile. “i’ll stay as long as you won’t try to kick me out.”

you aren’t in the mood to attempt to smile back, but he seems to understand that. “right, well...good.”

“…now that you two have figured that shit out, can we leave?”

--

FRIDAY, NOV 17

jungkook thought that getting outside a bit more would help you feel better and prevent you from developing a complete fear of leaving the house, which is why you’re sitting in this claustrophobic little diner now with him, yoongi, and camille—and of course, your ever-present bodyguards in the booth behind you all. but this outing isn’t doing anything to mitigate your fears.

nearly 10 minutes in, you have to ask jungkook to switch seats with you so you’re not on the outside of the booth, as you’re afraid that it’s too easy-access if anyone—say, the killer, though you’ve been trying not to think so obsessively about him—were to come in and start stabbing you to death right where you sit. being on the inside calms you for a little while until you become anxious about the window beside you; what if he has a gun again and simply shoots through the glass? all he’d have to do is stand on the sidewalk and aim, his werewolf mask laughing at you with its eternally frozen growling expression, and your brains would be all over the table just like that frat guy’s.

your meal sits half-eaten as you get increasingly lost in your anxieties. the others are talking about something, but you can’t hear what. it’s like some of your senses have shut down or begun working incorrectly. the strawberry sauce in camille’s sundae looks too much like blood and even smells like it from the occasional whiffs you get, and you find yourself staring at the sundae dish and wanting to throw it across the restaurant.

jungkook’s hand touches you on the back, and the tension in your body increases. he feels it and draws away, though he keeps trying to meet your eyes. “are you okay?” he whispers.

“why ask that? she obviously isn’t,” yoongi says, like he’s annoyed with the obviousness of jungkook’s question.

“hyung, i’m just trying to help.”

“it was your great idea to come out here when she didn’t want to, though.”

“y/n—” camille starts.

“can’t you throw that out? it smells like blood.” your mouth feels useless and hard to maneuver, but you manage to say those words.

“what?”

“the…that. that thing.” everyone looks at camille’s melting sundae. yoongi raises his eyebrows.

“blood?”

“do you mean it—looks like blood?” jungkook suggests.

you raise your voice in irritation, not understanding how everyone else is unable to perceive the same scent that you do. “no, i-it does, but it smells like blood too! just get rid of it!”

one of the waitresses comes over to the table. “is everything okay over here?”

“um, we’re fine! i’m finished with this though.” camille hurriedly hands the sundae off to her, trying to keep the situation calm.

“oh, well—the rest of you too? that’ll be it, then?” she gathers everyone’s plates and leaves with a smile that attempts to be cordial but is still colored with unease.

her departure leaves a stiff silence in which you all spare glances at each other but try to avoid directly meeting eyes. camille is the first to break it.

“i’ll ask my dad if i can stay over with you,” she suggests. she suddenly sounds much more tired. jungkook’s eyebrows furrow slightly at her words; yoongi silently glances at the younger man. “just, you know…maybe the extra company would help? he’s been treating me like a kid again, but we should be safe with the bodyguards there, so…”

“you don’t have to do that,” you say, though you’re too exhausted to truly argue.

“you’re in shambles, y/n. and it’s not just for your benefit. i’m feeling pretty fucking alone right now, and it’s hard for my dad to understand the emotional side of it, so…” camille plays with her fingers and doesn’t look at anyone as she speaks; you know talking about her father can be a sore spot for her sometimes. “uh, anyway. not to trauma-dump or anything. just let me do this.”

you sigh. “fine…okay. do whatever you have to. can we just leave?”

as you’re all walking outside, jungkook pulls you aside.

“i still worry about you after that incident at the store, you know?” he admits.

you shrug his hand off your arm and glare at him. “you think i’m crazy.”

“i don’t. i just want you to be able to relax and not feel like you’re being hunted 24/7. i don’t think the killer is constantly waiting around the nearest corner for you, y/n.”

“you don’t know how close the killer could be. he knows where i go to sleep at night. so stop the bullshit, jungkook.”

“you’ll be okay. you have me, remember? i protected you that night…i can do it again.”

you examine his face for a long moment and find that you are too overwhelmed with stress and fear to be moved by his words. “i’d like to trust you…but the killer might just murder you too. then who’ll save me?” you don’t wait for his response before walking away to catch up with the other two.

--

LYING IN WAIT...

it’s strange to see the police bodyguards in veronica’s driveway and backyard everyday. it’s not the same two all day—they switch off so that there are two doing a day shift and two doing a night shift.

the security team at the hospital where your sister works is aware of the situation, so you try not to get too worried about her safety when she’s away from the house—but it’s difficult.

there have been no more kills connected to your university since lorelai. it seems like half the town has forgotten their fears and tried to go back to some sense of normalcy while the other half still hides away and lives in perpetual panic, including you. the former group of people has started muddying the waters for the police, with some teenagers getting brave enough to sneak around in wolf masks and vandalize buildings with red-lettered virgin graffiti just to fuck with the cops. there have even been a few people who turned themselves in claiming to be the killer—only their supposed confessions never matched the details of the case.

reporters have tried to hound lorelai’s family and your family several times for any speculations or answers on the killer’s identity, but none of you are willing to spread misinformation just to give them something to write about. however, that hasn’t stopped other residents of your town from sharing their speculations and even implicating their own relatives or neighbors—whether as a fucked-up joke or as genuine revenge just depends on whoever’s speaking. with all of these false leads, the police are still no closer to finding the killer than they’d initially been.

everyday feels like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, though the chances of any more kills are starting to seem improbable; the university is practically empty. but it doesn’t matter to you if the school is nearly deserted, because the killer has his aims set on you now, and you only wish you knew why.

up in your room, you and camille sit on your bed gazing out the window—the window that must always remain locked now, for fear of unwanted ingress. you’ve never been uncomfortable in your sister’s house, but lately you’ve been feeling like you’re boxed in with every wall pressing towards you.

sitting up from your lying-down position, you have to find the appropriate words for a moment before speaking. “camille—i can’t stop feeling like maybe we aren’t entirely safe,” you murmur.

camille raises her eyebrows. “why not? those guys stay outside all day, and we keep everything locked up day and night. literally, the only time the front door opens is for veronica to leave and come back from work everyday.”

“i don’t know. there’s no particular reason for it…it just seems like we’re waiting for something.”

“…yeah? for the killer to be caught.”

“but he’s made no moves recently. you remember the policeman’s daughter, right? i even texted her and she hasn’t heard anything new that we don’t already know. seems like things have slowed down at the police station. it’s not like that abandoned house was in the killer’s name or anything, so what leads would they have?”

camille frowns and rubs her eyes like something’s in them, but when she looks at you directly, you see her eyes are red from unshed tears. “…i want things to be okay, though. i’m tired of living like this. you know how i had to beg just to get my dad to let me leave the house. he’s constantly on edge.” you feel even more unsettled to see camille so distressed lately, as she’s always been the only one able to pull something funny out of a terrible situation—something enough to distract you from the horrors. “all i know is they’ll have to dig his ass out of some hole in the ground at some point. he can’t hide in this town forever.”

“yeah…i guess you’re right.” you still don’t feel reassured, but you don’t voice your doubts.

--

WEDNESDAY, NOV 22

“i think i might go mad,” camille says from her position on the armchair, her limbs splayed haphazardly across it and one hand stuck in a bag of chips.

you sigh. “you’re the one who wanted to watch this thanksgiving movie marathon.”

“the most mid holiday of the season,” jungkook adds.

“no one cares what either of you think, thanks.” it isn’t long before the program is over and the ending credits are rolling. with an exaggerated exhale, camille gets up from the chair and crunches the bag of chips in her hand. “i’m going to your room, y/n. you two just do whatever it is you do down here, since you hate my movie choices so much!”

“means we can finally turn the channel.” jungkook snatches the remote off the coffee table and does just that.

camille goes into the kitchen to throw out the chip bag and wash her hands. your focus returns to the TV. a few seconds later, you hear the upstairs flooring creak above the noise of the water pouring from the tap.

“what’s up, sis? i thought you were sleeping.” veronica is known to be a deep sleeper, so it’s not common for her to be getting up in the middle of the night. there’s no answer to your question. you glance upstairs, but your sister isn’t standing there; she isn’t standing at all, instead being carried by someone wearing an all-too familiar mask.

you scream as the killer tosses your sister over the stair railing. her torso has been sliced open from collarbone to navel, her body leaving a large splatter of blood on the floor where she lands. jungkook jumps to his feet but is momentarily immobilized as he gazes at your sister’s body crumpled on the floor. you slide off the couch and crawl over to her, still crying out, but there’s no life left to try and salvage.

the screaming brings camille rushing to the kitchen doorway. she can barely vocalize what’s wrong? before spotting veronica’s body and stopping in her tracks. in a moment that feels like it takes forever to pass, the killer pulls a gun from his waistband—you recognize it as one of the guns the policemen carry and realize he must’ve killed the bodyguard posted in the backyard—and shoots her in the chest twice.

“camille!” when you go over to where she’s lying on the ground, she is still alive but bleeding intensely and struggling to breathe. your knees slip in the blood that begins pooling around her. “shit, camille…p-please don’t die…” you press your hand against the wounds, but they’re bleeding so much that your efforts don’t help, and the pressure of your hand causes her more pain.

there’s the sound of a gunshot at the front door as the lock is blown off, and the door is banged open a few seconds later by the remaining bodyguard. he has virtually no time to fire off another shot before the killer is shooting him in the head first.

the killer throws the gun aside, taking his knife in his other hand and making his way down the stairs. “your sister left her window cracked open. i waited for days for a slip-up like that. see how much harm can come from a simple mistake? well, she was collateral damage anyway.”

even in your panic, it’s as if all your bodily functions freeze when you recognize the familiarity of the killer’s voice. camille reacts with a rattling gasp, but her body is becoming too weak for her to utter anything; all she can do is watch as the man stops at the bottom of the stairs and pulls his mask off.

“yoongi…” your voice breaks as you try to speak again, but nothing coherent comes out.

he drops the mask on the floor and brushes a hand through his hair. “i guess you weren’t expecting that. good. we kept it up ‘til the end.”

your lips form around the word we, but your vocal cords won’t cooperate. you twist around to look at jungkook, who is still standing by the couch.

the man who you’d gotten too close to for your own good and done so many firsts with, who’d promised you that he’d protect you and was even there for you on the day of lorelai’s memorial, looks at you now with eyes glowing from the thrill as his mouth twitches into a smile—small at first but growing into a full grin. “i almost can’t believe we staged all that shit and it actually worked. you really believed it all, y/n.

not all of those kills were hyung’s, of course...there’s no way i’d miss out on the best parts. you don’t know what it’s like until you kill a person for the first time. crashing cherry bomb was his idea, though. and lorelai was mine. that bitch would’ve kept you away from me, and i needed her gone for this kill to work.”

through tears, you finally muster up the strength to ask, “wh-why have you done this? that night…y-you mean to tell me none of that was real? being shot at—why would you—” your voice rises until you’re shouting. “you-you’ve killed so many people. what was the purpose?!”

jungkook’s smile fades somewhat as he pretends to think about it, acting like he’s reminiscing on wistful memories. “i realized that killing and fucking aren’t that different, y/n. the real ecstasy of it is in taking someone pure…and doing something to them that has never been done before, and can never be done again. there’s a certain eroticism in killing someone, stabbing them, entering them…it’s like sex in the most profane sense.”

“you’re disgusting,” you mutter, glaring at him through your tears. you can’t help but feel shame to think of the times you’d had sex with him. had he simply been imagining murdering you during those moments? it makes you want to throw up.

yoongi steps closer until he’s right in front of you and camille. “and as for me…i just enjoy it. practice really does make perfect. you wouldn’t believe how entertaining it can be to see someone beg for their life.” his lips turn upwards in a dark smile resembling jungkook’s. “but instead of raging at us, i think you have bigger matters to be concerned with.” yoongi gestures his knife hand to camille, and when you look down at her body, you realize she’s no longer moving.

you lift camille’s head up with your hands as if that could make her return your gaze, though you can find no sign of breathing or pulse. “god, no…” you scream in frustration, your hands slipping in her blood. you check once more and again for any signs of life, because there is just no possible way this could’ve happened, but there are none present. “please—i’m sorry…”

“time’s up.” yoongi grabs your arm and yanks you away from camille, jostling you to try to get you on your feet. you flail around in his grip, fruitlessly scratching at his arms that are covered by his thick jacket, before managing to elbow him in the groin with your frantic movements. “shit!” this causes him to loosen his grip, which is enough for you to scramble away from him, slipping in the blood as you go.

you make it to the other side of the room where the officer lies facedown—though there isn’t much left of his face from yoongi’s shot. you snatch the gun from the dead officer’s hand and point it in the direction of both men. the safety is already off; all you’d have to do is pull the trigger and kill either one of them right now. before you can act, yoongi uses his free hand to pull another gun from his waistband—his own.

“as i said before, i know how to take care of myself,” he says, flicking the safety off and aiming for you, though his stance shows he’s still in pain. “please don’t assume it’ll be that easy. do you even know how to shoot a gun?”

you and yoongi are at an impasse as you both point your guns at each other, jungkook looking on with casual amusement coloring his face. “fuck you,” you spit out. you remain hesitant to fire on him, knowing that even if you succeed, he could fatally shoot you at the same time.

“let’s not do it this way,” yoongi says, his voice low and soft in an attempt to be persuasive, though you just find it disturbing. “you were supposed to be a clean kill. a few stabs and it’d all be over. i’ll even let jungkook do it, since you seem to like each other so much. do you really want to be shot down like a dog like camille over there?”

“you and him can both fry in hell!” you shout.

yoongi glances over at jungkook. they both nod before yoongi hands the knife to him, and the younger man takes a few steps in your direction. you don’t know whether to point the gun at him or keep it trained on yoongi; your head is pounding with a headache that you’ve only just realized you have. “don’t come over here. stay away from me!”

you press your back to the wall as jungkook comes closer, inching towards your right side with his knife at the ready. you slide away from him as you keep your back against the wall. “hand it over, y/n. it doesn’t have to be like this.”

“hand it over and let you kill me? are you insane? you lied to me this whole time, you fucking piece of shit.”

jungkook scoffs and looks at yoongi as if to say can you believe this? “why wouldn’t i lie to you? you were always meant to die.”

he won’t stop coming towards you, and you’re running out of room to slide away from him. you grasp for anything to try to reason with him, though you know it’s futile. “you realize that if you kill me now and you conveniently survive, everyone will know it’s you? you’ve been living here for weeks, you jackass!”

“hyung and i have that covered. it’s not for you to worry about, considering you won’t be worrying about anything soon.”

jungkook lunges for you with the knife, thinking he can catch you off guard and overpower you. you scream and pull the trigger in your frenzied state of mind, shooting yoongi. the next few things seem to happen almost simultaneously:

you hear the crash of yoongi’s body hitting the TV stand and the TV falling to the floor.

you feel jungkook’s knife piercing your shoulder, causing you to fire a stray round into the wall from the unexpected burst of pain.

you hear another gunshot that’s not from you; you see and feel jungkook stumble into you, the knife sliding from his fingers and to the floor.

you realize that he’s been shot when his hand flies to the bullet wound on his lower back; he’d been standing in front of you, and yoongi meant to hit you, not him.

“jungkook!” yoongi’s shout is furious and regretful as he steadies himself on the TV stand.

trying to push the pain into the back of your mind, you clumsily grasp jungkook’s fallen knife and run for the stairs. more shots follow you and most of them miss but one, which strikes you in the thigh.  while you cling to the stair railing and try to regain your footing, you are suddenly staring mortality in the face and understanding with a freezing-cold clarity that you will die right now if you don’t do something.

your nervous system vibrates with fear and adrenaline as you tighten your grip on the police officer’s gun and shoot yoongi with it twice—in the same area he’d shot camille.

these last two bullets finish him off immediately. you don’t think it’s fair, with how camille suffered and bled and died in your arms. for a moment, you’re so outraged that you wish he’d come back to life so that you could kill him again. you’re torn from these thoughts by jungkook.

“you bitch…he was my only family after everyone else threw me away. do you understand? i’ll fucking kill you!” jungkook is nearly writhing in the ground from his upset and from the hurt of his injury; it frightens you that this same man is someone you once thought you could grow fond of.

you aim the gun for jungkook next, but the chamber is empty. either way, he currently has no weapon, which leaves you with a small chance to get away before he re-arms himself. throwing the gun away, you stagger up the rest of the steps while his screams continue echoing up to you.

you give no thought to the blood trail you’re leaving behind as you rush to veronica’s room and to the window yoongi had entered through. you begin squeezing yourself through, keeping your grip on your knife all the while, but your injuries make it difficult to move. a few more tears slip out as you try to balance your injured leg on the tree branch beneath the window, and the desperation of wanting to give up clings to you.

you hear jungkook’s heavy and limping footsteps coming up the stairs, and you attempt to hurry, but you’re only halfway out of the window. when he crashes into the room, it’s unnervingly easy for him to grab your arm and yank your body back through the window, uncaring of how you get scraped up in the process.

he jams you up against the nightstand with one of the kitchen knives to your neck to stop your movements; his harsh maneuver causes the objects on the nightstand to rattle. the nightstand’s edge digs into the backs of your thighs, the pressure causing your wounded thigh to hurt more.

“you want to know why i picked you?” jungkook hisses, the knife’s blade stinging your throat as it begins to break skin. “you were just another choice out of many, but i decided you’d be the first one that i’d fuck and kill.”

it’s painful to hear, but it angers you at the same time. “fuck you!” in your rage, you spit in his eyes. jungkook jerks back and the knife shifts from its previous position at your neck; you take those few seconds to grasp the alarm clock off the nightstand and crash it against his head.

“shit—!” he cries out, stumbling and grasping the side of his head. he tries to grab for you again, but you jump onto the bed and crawl away from him, your stomach lurching at all of veronica’s blood soaked into the sheets. you spot a small decorative glass bowl on the dresser—the one filled with little candies that you’d always teased veronica for, saying she was so much like a grandma handing out treats to her grandchildren. when your feet touch the ground again, you clasp your hand around it like it’s a lifeline and fling it at jungkook’s head as hard as you can, just as he makes it around the bed to your side. the shards cut his face when it breaks, slowing him down further as he grabs his slashed and bleeding face. one of his eyes is blinded from the blood and glass.

this will probably be your only chance while he’s struggling to gather himself. you rush towards him with the knife handle tight in both of your hands and drive the blade into the middle of his chest, putting all your strength into that movement—just as his own knife impales your abdomen.

you are both simultaneously struck from the shock of being stabbed, and it takes you a few long moments to piece your mind back together as the pain radiates throughout your body. jungkook groans when you shift the knife around in his wound as you pull it out, letting his blood flow out freely. his breaths become wet and rattling as he chokes on his own blood, the red fluid staining his mouth and dripping down to his neck. he jams his knife further into your wound in retaliation so that the handle is flush against your body, causing your head to spin.

“i-if i die, i’m taking you w-with me.” jungkook gasps with his remaining effort. his body starts to sag from its standing position as he weakens, his hand slipping from the knife handle. he loosely grasps the comforter with one hand as he collapses to his knees, his torso becoming soaked with blood and his head bleeding from your earlier hits.

you drop your knife and lean against the bed too, shifting your body to find a position that could lessen the pain, but it’s impossible with a knife lodged in your abdomen. you know enough to understand that you’ll bleed out faster if you remove it, though, so you resist the urge. “you can rot in hell alone, jungkook.” you watch him struggle for what feels like minutes before his breaths stop altogether and his body slumps to the floor. he is just a blur of clothes and blood through your tears. you’ve never felt so lonely in your life.

you have a thought to call 911, but you’re becoming more and more lightheaded from the blood loss, and you can already hear sirens approaching on your street. you figure one of your neighbors must’ve called after hearing the gunshots; perhaps the bodyguard sent for backup before he was shot. your rescue has come much later than you would’ve preferred—or maybe everything just happened much faster than it seemed. you can’t tell anymore.

you can’t tell anymore, and you no longer want to look at the carnage around you, and nothing makes any sense. so, you close your eyes to it all; and when you feel someone lifting you in their arms—this sensation is so familiar—and maneuvering you onto a stretcher, you allow yourself to relent to it and empty your mind of everything.

@ihatemen55 @cottoncandyclouds-stuff @yunhofingers @heybabesposts @twilight-loveer @whipwhoops @mrsminho @junecat18 @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @okayiamkassandra @witchbitxhxx @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @thaiika @goldentea10 @iloverubberduckiez-blog @katie-tibo @ohsweetmimosa @dream-cvtcher @hoseokteardrop @lpgirl2324 @vanillacupcakefrosting @gukiemochi @jkslaugh97 @ahgasegotarmy116 @jeonjklibs @bangtans-momma @screamertannie @kenzietaetae @han-nah-banana @00frenchfries00 @taiwan0618 @laurynne5 @monvante @ynisthatyou @thiccthighs19 @jeonwiixard

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | October 21st-27th 2024

Sorry it's a little bit late!

Can't wait for Confessions!! 🤩

Complete

you make my heart beat by extasiswings/ @extasiswings (Post-S2, Different First Meeting | 1,8K | Teen): Eddie Diaz knows two things: 1) he's a great nurse; and 2) he does not fall for patients. After spending five months with Evan Buckley...well. Maybe that second one is a little more of an open question.

give me a sign by lecornergirl/ @clusterbuck (Werewolf Eddie, Eddie Coming Out | 2K | General): “Okay, okay,” he says, holding his hands up. So Eddie doesn’t want to talk about it. Maybe it was embarrassing. Maybe he’d gotten really drunk, and he regrets it. Maybe it was with someone embarrassing, like an ex, or— Buck stops with his coffee halfway to his mouth. Maybe it was a man. Eddie’s never said anything about—he’s never suggested— But then, Buck himself never said anything until he said something. He’d barely known there was anything to say. OR: buck thinks he knows eddie's secret. he doesn't know the half of it.

love & magic (if the music is groovy) by ipretendtobesane/ @useramor (Witch Buck, Getting Together | 2K | Teen): buck accidentally casts a love spell on eddie. it doesn't quite work.

just call me sweetheart by snarkymuch/ @snarkythewoecrow (Kidnapping, Getting Together | 2K | Mature): They get knocked out and tied up, though Buck gets the worst of it. Eddie takes care of him, worries, and touches his dick, but not necessarily in that order. Oh, and Buck definitely thinks he must be dreaming because Eddie just called him sweetheart.

Well, This is Awkward by eightpackdiaz (S8E6: Confessions Spec, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Eddie finds out about the well. Buck goes to awkward and amusing lengths to avoid talking about it.

How Do You Solve a Problem Like Eddie Diaz by giselleslash/ @gigi-gigi (Eddie Coming Out, Getting Together | 3K | General): Eddie comes out, and Buck decides to be his wingman. It all goes great. And Buck’s super chill about it.

if there’s a fire to be felt (call a cowboy) by justhockey (S8E5: Masks, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): “Looking good, Scarface,” Buck says, and he’s acutely aware of how breathless he sounds. “Not so bad yourself, cowboy,” Eddie remarks, his eyes trailing up and down the length of Buck’s body yet again. For a second, they’re the only two people in the room. The only two people in the whole world. The way that Eddie is looking at him - the approval in his eyes, the smirk teasing at the corners of his mouth - it feels like. Like something. It feels like a moment, maybe. Something stolen, right beneath the noses of all of their friends and family. And then there’s the clearing of a throat, and Buck feels a shoulder bumping into his. It jolts him out of the moment, and he turns to look at the man standing next to him. His boyfriend.

What a feeling (to be right here beside you now) by scarmaddiewrites (Post-S7, Sick fic | 3K | General): Buck shows up on Eddie’s doorstep after his break up with Tommy. Eddie takes care of him, naturally.

Mister I’ll make a husband out of you by scarmaddiewrites (Post Bachelor Party, Accidental Marriage | 6K | Mature): “Eddie doesn’t remember telling Buck he’s gay. No, Eddie has kept that shit on lockdown. In an envelope, inside a side, locked inside an apocalypse bunker, inside Alcatraz.” Or Buck is keeping a secret, until he isn’t.

kerosene by mandolare/ @roguebuck (S7E6: There Goes The Groom, PWP | 6K | Explicit): He doesn’t— need more of Eddie. This is enough. This is plenty. This is more than anyone else has of him; he can deal with the marrow-deep want that’s begun to choke him every once in a while. So what if sitting next to Eddie makes his skin feel like it’s on fire. At least he’s sitting next to Eddie.

it only takes a taste (when it’s something special) by weewooforever (Post-S7, Infidelity, PWP | 7K | Explicit): Eddie shifts slightly and clears his throat again. “But can you answer my original question? What’s it like kissing a guy?” Buck shrugs, trying to sound casual. “Honestly? It’s pretty much the same as kissing a girl. Lips are lips, you know?” Eddie crosses his arms, unconvinced. “Come on, Buck. It can’t be that simple. You’re telling me there’s no difference at all?” Buck leans back, a playful smirk spreading across his face. “Well, if you don’t believe me, I could always prove it to you.”

deep inside a gold mine by marviless/ @marviless (Established Buddie, Fluff | 8K | Teen): in which eddie is in love and a bit clingy about it.

I choose you, Pikachu (or the ways two idiots finally say you’re mine) by snarkymuch/ @snarkythewoecrow (Werewolf AU, Alpha Buck/Alpha Eddie, Getting Together | 8K | Explicit): Buck gets hurt at a scene, sparking a reaction in Eddie that is usually reserved for mates, which is especially odd since they aren’t nor have ever been dating, let alone bonded as a pair. So when Eddie shows up at the loft after his shift, feral and lost to his wolf, he proceeds to literally lick Buck’s wounds, nuzzle his crotch, then test every last fiber of Buck’s willpower as he desperately tries to do the right thing, not wanting to take advantage Eddie in this state. Which, for the record, he fails at—though neither is bothered by that in the slightest.

🔥 all our bruises beg for a chance by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergence, Amputee Buck, S4 | 10K | Teen): Buck is adjusting to life living with Eddie, Chris, and his service dog Cranberry, when his parents visit for the first time since he lost his leg. OR: A Cranberry-verse take on the events of Buck Begins. (Part 3 of Buck & Cranberry)

🔥 i could give you fifty reasons by marviless/ @marviless (Post-S7, Getting Together | 15K | Teen): buck is on a mission to help eddie recover his self-confidence. it goes well for exactly zero parties involved.

To Be Loved Anyways by Bookworm0303/ @insertlovelyperson (Future Fic, Established Buddie | 15K | Teen): “Just don’t expect me to walk you down the aisle,” Phillip laughed, looking around like he expected the rest to agree. And when no one did, glancing at one another in shock, confusion, and hurt on his behalf... it’d been the last straw: “I wouldn’t ask you to,” Buck said, as if discussing something as inconsequential as the weather, “I’d ask Bobby.” --- or Buck experiences the unconditional love of a parent for the first time in his life at a five year-old's birthday party.

🔥 white lies & a couple of dumb mistakes by justhockey (Accidental Marriage, S7 | 17K | Mature): “It could be worse,” Buck says. Eddie is pacing the length of the hotel room. Buck’s hotel room. The one that they shared last night, because they got married. Drunk married. In Vegas. By fucking Elvis. Jesus fucking Christ. If Eddie wasn’t so hungover he’d worry that the splitting in his head was a brain aneurysm. “How, Buck? How could it possibly be worse?” “We could have married strangers?” (Or, Eddie and Buck get married, move in together, and then fall in love. In that order. Kind of.)

🔥the city is a jungle and i’m a beast by putanauhere/ @putanauhere (Werewolf Eddie, S8 | 42K | Mature): or, Eddie has enough on his plate this summer – a newly empty nest, a terrible new captain, and a new mustache – without adding a new werewolf to the mix

WIP

🔥we won't look back, we won't be lost by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S7, Dad Buck | 1/5 | 8K | Teen): Over six years after the 118 rescued a baby from a pipe, Buck meets that same child again on a different call. And in all that time, she never found a home. OR: Buck adopts Pipe Baby while Eddie waits for Christopher to come home.

Kiss Me Once Cause You Know I Had A Long Night by I_still_dont_understand_13 / @sherlockcrossing (Prompt collection | 34/? | 22K | Teen): 100 kiss prompts.

34. 56. pulling your lover into your lap, making them straddle your hips 

Podfic

[Podfic] if i am lost, please call my dad(s) by Avanie (S4E8: Breaking Point, Outsider POV | 10-20min | General): Christopher's Uber ride to Buck's apartment.

🔥you could call me babe for christmas ('tis the damn season) by prettyboybuckley [Podfic] by Rhea314 (Rhea)/ @rhea314 // fic by @prettyboybuckley (Post-S4, Fake Relationship, Christmas | 3-3.5h | Teen): Buck and Eddie pretend to be dating as Buck takes the Diaz boys along to Hershey. Once there, things get a little out of hand, and Buck comes to a realization...

🔥To Fly The Skies by Kympossible for Spotsandsocks / @spotsandsocks (Dragonriders of Pern AU | 6-7h | Explicit): Eddie’s grieving and hurt but he finds a new home and then he finds Buck. Slowly things start to get better for him and Christopher. A story about moving forward from trauma and grief with help from the people you love and who love you back. Or a story about how life can work out ok even when you don’t expect it to.

🔥[podfic] Safe for Work by be_brave13/ @djemsowhat // fic by alsaurus (Pre-S7, Getting Together | 20-30min | Teen): Eddie offers to be Buck's official head scratcher, shoulder massager, and general tactile needs provider. It's a really normal thing for friends to do. Surely.

🔥[Podfic] hearts will hold by theyarnmaidstale/ @theyarnmaidstale // by farfromthstars/ @doeeyeseddie (Post-S7 Cruise, Getting Together | 20-30min | General): “Hey,” Eddie says when Buck opens the door, casual, like Buck should’ve expected him. Which he did not. “Uh, h-hey,” he says. “Didn’t you say you had plans today?” “Canceled them,” Eddie says easily, pushing past Buck into his loft. “I’d rather be here anyway.” “Eddie, I–“ Buck closes the door and turns to watch Eddie rummage through his fridge, emerging with two bottles of beer. “What do you mean, you canceled them? Didn’t you have a date?”

🔥 all i ever wanted was a life in your shape [Podfic] by blackglass/ @blackestglass // by tuckergreeen/ @henwilsonmd (Post-S6E18: Pay It Forward, Pre-Buddie | 30-45min | General): “Buck,” said Eddie, trying to school his face into something less fond and amused. “That’s my couch.” Buck turned from where he’d been happily showing off the new piece of furniture he’d gotten with Natalia the day prior. “What?” “The couch,” Eddie repeated, with a quirk of his eyebrow. “You bought my exact couch.” “No,” Buck replied with a shake of his head. “No, it’s definitely different.” Or: Buck buys a new couch, and a few other things that happen after the bridge collapse.

🔥[Podfic] One More Rainy Day by Avanie // fic by TalkNerdyToMe6 (S5 Spec, Dispatcher Eddie, Getting Together | 45-60min | Mature): “911 what’s your emergency?” “Oh, uh… hey Eds.” “Buck? What’s wrong?” “Nothing, uh, nothing’s really wrong. My radio just got messed up when I jumped. I can hear Cap but can’t respond. Can you let him know everything’s all good in here? Or, all good considering?” “Jumped?”

Re-Read

wrap your arms around me, baby boy by marviless/ @marviless (Getting Together | 6K | Teen): in which buck pretends to be asleep and overhears something he shouldn't.

you'll have what's meant to be by farfromthstars/ @doeeyeseddie (Hen POV, Fluff | 8K | Teen): Buck slaps the back of his hand against Eddie’s chest. “I even carried Eddie here once.” “That was the adrenaline.” “Well, yeah,” Buck admits. “But I could do it now, too. Do you want me to prove it?” That’s the flirtatious tone that was missing earlier, and Hen immediately pays closer attention. Eddie makes a sound that Hen has never heard him make, and it takes her a second to realize that it was a giggle. A giggle! If only she could record this shit for Chim and Karen. ~ Hen spends three weeks watching Eddie make a fool of himself in front of Buck.