#Dispersion Homework Help

[ravenslvt]

☆ choso kamo x f!reader ☆

cw: smut! college au! virgin choso! kinda pervy choso! unprotected sex! mutual pining!

masterlist

busy thinking about your college classmate choso who has the biggest crush on you.

the pretty girl who sits next to him in his math lecture.

when you spoke to him for the first time asking for the notes from your class, he practically scrambled to get out his notebook for you to copy off of.

and when you asked for his number with a sweet smile on your pretty face (for homework! of course!) he got so nervous, going over the number over and over in his head praying he didn’t accidentally hit the wrong digit.

his breath hitches when his phone lights up a day or two later.

‘hey!! i’m so behind in math, wondering if you’d like to help me study later :)’

he blinked a couple times, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks or if you meant to text someone else. but all his worries dispersed when another text comes through.

‘this is choso, right?’

he has no idea how he ended up in your dorm room, sitting on your cute little bed with open textbooks surrounding you two.

you sigh, leaning your back against the headboard while stretching out your arms.

you were sure your brain was fried from all this mind numbing work.

“this is boring, why don’t we do something else.” your gaze falls on the dark haired boy in front of you, his eyes meeting your own. he gulped, an eyebrow quirked.

“like what?” he asks, sitting up.

you only just met him two months ago, so you didn't know a lot about the man.

you think for a second, lips pursing together as you drum your fingers along your thigh.

“you ever kiss a girl before, choso?” you ask, head tilting to the side as you watch for his reaction.

his eyes widen at your question.

“i-“ he opens his mouth to speak, nervous under your gaze.

you patiently wait for him to gather his thoughts, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

“choso?” you softly ask. he didn’t even notice the way you were sitting closer to him, your thighs brushing against eachother.

he finally looks up at you, pink dusting on his cheeks.

“i-no, i haven’t.” he sheepishly admits, emberassed you would make fun of him or even kick him out of your room.

but instead you give him a shocked look.

“really? but you’re- i mean you’re hot.” you honestly say, making him chuckle. the anxiety built up in his body instantly relieving.

he knew he wasn’t ugly by any means, but your forwardness made his heart flutter. you always made him so nervous.

sure, he was pretty inexperienced, but he wasn’t innocent by any means. he’s watched a fair amount of porn, especially in his single dorm room at night.

he just spent most of his life watching over and taking care of his younger brothers. he was never really interested in finding a girlfriend. that was until he saw you on the first day of classes.

but the way you sat next to him on that first day, introducing yourself with a cute smile. you never left his mind since.

“could i- shit, can i-“ he stutters.

you giggle at his sudden shyness.

“you wanna kiss me, cho?” he shudders when you lean up by his ear to basically whisper to him.

“fuck, yes. so badly” all his shame flies out the window when your pretty little hand rests on his thigh.

his breath hitches when you crawl atop his lap, straddling him. fuck he was hoping you couldn’t feel how he instantly got hard from it.

you start slow, not wanting to overwhelm him. gently cupping his cheek with your hand, you lean in, slowly brushing your lips against his, testing the waters.

one of his hands go to tangle themself in your hair, while his other held your waist gently. practically forcing you closer to him.

your lips move together, slowly at first, but eventually getting more and more aggressive. almost needy.

when you give his mouth an experimental lick, his tongue fighting with yours, you unconsciously roll your hips into him, making him moan into the kiss.

you pulled back, embarrassed you could barely control yourself from a make out session.

“s-sorry.”

fuck you were cute when you’re flustered.

“don’t be sorry. it’s hot.” he smiles, holding you by the back of your neck to bring you back into another kiss. your hands rest on his chest.

with all the baggy clothes he wears, it's hard to tell what a good body he has.

his hands move to your hips, grinding you against his clothed cock.

you whine when your clothed clit rubs against him just right.

“please, can i taste you. wanna eat you out.” he begs, kissing down your jaw down to your neck.

“are you sure? you really don’t have to.” you say, his kisses never ceasing.

“been dreaming of eating your pussy, baby.” he murmurs against your neck, biting down in a few spots. he reluctantly pulls back, letting you lie comfortably against your pillow.

your heart races as you peel your bottoms off, leaving you in your cute little panties. he crawls between your thighs, groaning at the sight.

“did you know this was gonna happen?” he smirks at the sight of your lacy panties. you smile. of course you did

“lucky guess.” you shrug.

he smirks, eyes drawn to your damp panties. he experiments with a lick over the wet patch, eliciting a small gasp from you.

“don’t tease” you pout down at him, making him chuckle. he pulls your panties to the side, revealing your wet cunt.

a wave of nervousness washes over you when he just stares in awe. you thought maybe he was gonna back out.

“even prettier than i imagined” he sighs, immediately delving in, making your gasp turn into a soft moan.

your mind wanders for a moment at the thought of him imagining this before. your hands finding themselves reaching under your shirt to play with your tits as he goes down on you.

he tries his hardest to do to you what he’s seen in porn. goes from flicking his tongue over your sensitive clit, to sucking on it which made your thighs tighten around his head.

he knew he found your most sensitive spot when his tongue flicked over a certain area, making you buck your hips up into him.

your hands move to grip in his messy dark hair, unconsciously tugging as he eats you out like a mad man.

you can’t see the way he slowly grinds his hips into the mattress, his cock straining almost painfully through his sweatpants.

your mind is in a frenzy, body squirming trying to escape how good it felt, but also rutting your hips up into his mouth because you really didn’t want him to stop.

not that he even would, he's in heaven right now. eating the pussy of the girl he’s jerked off too at least several times at this point.

his hands grip at the bottom of your thighs, pulling you closer to his face as he prods his tongue into your tight hole, nose brushing against your clit. you moan, tugging at his hair for more and he groans at the harsh tug. he fucking loves it.

you were sure you were so close as he fucks you with his tongue. toes curling so hard you're scared you’re gonna get a cramp.

“choso, please don’t stop” you beg, grinding up into his unrelenting mouth.

he just hums into your cunt in acknowledgement, his movements never stopping as you coat his tongue.

your heels dig into his back, hands tugging at his dark locs, the vibration of his groan making you moan out his name as you cum on his mouth.

you were sure he was lying about being inexperienced with how hard he made you cum. but the way he stared at you like you were a fucking goddess made you think otherwise.

you whine when you realize he still hasn’t stopped lapping at your sensitive pussy. your hips jolt up in overstimulation, making him come back to earth and pulling away.

“sorry” he pants, wiping off his lower face with the sleeve of his hoodie, licking his lips.

“don’t be sorry” you giggle, pulling him up so he’s hovering over you, strong arms on either side of your head. kissing you again. your essence surrounding his tongue.

he grinds his clothed erection into you, making you feel a little bad for neglecting him.

you reach your hand down to graze over him, making him groan and buck into you.

you pat his arm, signalling for him to switch places with you. he nods, sitting against the headboard.

you crawl into his lap, straddling him so you’re face to face. you smile, admiring how pretty he is.

“off?” you ask, tugging at his nice oversized hoodie. he nods, you lean back to let him pull it off of his frame, throwing the hoodie somewhere on your floor.

you made a mental note to defiantly steal that later.

it is so fucked up this man hides this monster of a body behind all those baggy clothes.

you can’t help but stare at his defined chest, running a hand down his stomach and to his hard cock. he moans when you rub him over the fabric of his pants, the heat of your hand making him go lightheaded.

your thumbs hook in his waistband, tugging down his hips, he helps you, bringing them down to his ankles.

you watch the way his thick, pale cock sits so pretty standing up against his stomach, the tip raging and pink from all the teasing.

you reach down to run your thumb over his slit, making him shiver. you felt bad teasing, but his reactions were so adorable.

you kiss and suck marks down his neck, down to his defined chest that you just wanted to bite.

his eyes go down to your throbbing pussy, his thumb innocently pulls apart your folds, rubbing at your clit generously. you mewl against him, hand gripping tighter against his cock.

if just your hand felt this good, he was imagining how amazing your cunt is gonna feel.

he was embarrassingly close, but he didn’t wanna cum like this.

“please” he pants, pushing your hand away. you lean in to kiss his cheek.

“hmm?” you look at him, curiously.

“wanna fuck you so bad, pretty. please let me fuck you, you’re so perfect i-“ he begs. you shut him up with a heated kiss, tongues clashing together as you give him mercy.

you set your knees on either side of his thighs, hovering over his cock.

“tell me if you wanna stop, ok?” you sweetly smile at him.

‘doubt it’ he thought. but he nods, promising.

you line him up with your entrance, very slowly sinking down on him, your face scrunches up a bit from the stretch of his sheer size.

you sigh when you’re finally seated on his pulsing cock, his hands gripping hard at your waist. his head against your shoulder in concentration of not cumming on the spot.

on instinct he bucks up into your heat, making you groan and squeeze around him, hips rolling.

“f-fuck, don’t do that or i’m gonna cum” he moans, hands holding you in place so you don’t squirm.

you giggle, kissing his cheek down his jaw, letting him collect himself.

after a few moments he does an experimental roll upwards, making you softly gasp. he keeps doing this. wanting more friction, you start bouncing yourself up and down his cock.

"s'big" you whine.

he moans, hands groping at your ass to help you ride him. he looks up at you, tits bouncing through your thin little top.

“so pretty” he lifts up the bottom of your shirt to uncover your tits, taking one into his mouth. you whine, leaning into him to feel him closer.

he nibbles and sucks on your tits, pulling off to stare at your fucked out face. you stare down at him, eyes half lidded and mouth slightly open.

“kiss” you mumble to him.

he leans in, giving you a messy kiss as you fuck each other with a need for more. the way his dick fit deliciously inside of your snug pussy, almost sucking him in completely.

your hands tangle in the back of his hair, tugging and making his hips sputter. you try to do it again, but he removes your hands and puts them back on his shoulders.

"next time, g-god, m'gonna fuck you for hours, baby. promise." he pants, sucking dark red purplish marks into your poor neck.

you moan at the idea of a next time. maybe he'd take you out first on a cute date, make sweet dinner or lunch plans for you two.

or maybe he'd just take you to his dorm room and fuck you into his desk like he's been dreaming of for months. marking you up so everyone can see your matching hickies in lecture, knowing how pussy whipped you have him.

either way works.

he uses his strength to flip you back under him, never pulling out of you. he knew he was gonna cum soon, he was trying to put it off for so long but you’re making it too hard.

your head lolls back into the soft pillow, moaning as the flimsy bed frame of the dorm room squeaking like crazy. if his dick wasn't hitting every good spot right now perfectly, you'd probably give a fuck if the people next door heard.

he pumps into you as your legs wrap around his hips, bringing him closer. he fucks into you at a needy pace, his head in your neck as he whines into your ear which you could barely hear over the filthy sounds of skin slapping.

“m’sorry, gonna cum, baby” he moans. your hands go back into his hair, humming.

“please cum in me, choso. need it.” you mewl, eyes threatening to roll back at the way the tip of his cock kisses your sweet spot with every harsh thrust.

you bring a hand to your neglected clit, rubbing furiously to catch up with him, legs shivering and cunt clenching.

he groans as he spills inside of you at the feeling of your walls contracting around him sending him over the edge.

“f-fuck! feels s'good choso.” you cry, cumming so hard you practically milk his cock.

you’re both panting, his body going stiff.

you push at his arm to make him get off of you since he was practically crushing you.

“sorry” he mumbles, his voice groggy. he reluctantly pulls out of you with a hiss, pulling his boxers back on and collapsing next to you.

“hand me that towel, please?” you point to the pile of clean laundry next to your nightstand, a fresh new towel sitting atop.

“yeah, shit, sorry.” he hands you the towel as you wipe down your inner thighs.

you put your now ruined panties back in place, noticing the way he's staring at you.

"what?" you smile, covering yourself with a throw blanket you keep on your bed.

he just shakes his head in a silent chuckle, plopping down onto the bed next to you. he moves a loose strand of your hair out of your face, finger running down your jaw to your kissed out lips.

your breath hitches at his gentle touch, his thumb dragging down your lower lip.

"nothing i just..." his eyes meet yours, your stomach fluttering with anticipation.

"really like you" he sheepishly admits. you smiled at how cute he is. he just came inside of you and he was still nervous around you. how sweet.

"well i'd sure hope so." you giggle, feeling the dull throb between your legs from a few minutes ago.

it wasn't like your intentions weren't completely innocent upon inviting him here. you always thought the quiet guy in your class was hot.

you thought it was so cute whenever you'd 'accidentally' brush against him and he'd either tense up or his face would turn pink.

"but if it makes you feel better..." you cuddle up next to him, head nuzzling into his shoulder as his strong arm wraps around your waist.

"i really like you too"

you also showed up to class the next day wearing his hoodie that you successfully stole. he acted annoyed, but secretly fucking loved it.

a/n: i'm alive y'all i got my wisdom teeth out so i was not in a mood to write but i'm back!! hope u enjoy! sorry if the ending got a lil cheesy i'm trying to get better at dialogue since i usually just write pure porn.

(in need of jjk prompts i want the men so bad)

[jockbroski34]

The Bro Cap

Biology was my favorite class this semester.  Not only did I find science to be interesting, but I also shared the class with one of the hottest guys in the school: Aaron Moore.  He was the star of the school’s baseball team as a pitcher and he was the talk of the school.  Girls were always swooning over him for how tall and handsome and athletic he was.  He was good at every sport; football, basketball, and so on, but in school, he played baseball.  He was a major source of envy for a lot of guys.  A lot of guys wished they could be him.  I, however, wanted to be with him.  Fortunately, I sit behind him in class, so I get the best view of him, despite being from behind.  At least it meant he wouldn’t see me watching him.

I often found myself getting distracted by him.  Even if I couldn’t see his face, I could see his broad shoulders, which were built like mountains, as well as his arms which were shaped like mounds of muscle.  His tall stature sometimes made it hard to look at the board, not that it was the main place my eyes were looking at in the first place.  His favorite baseball hat, adorned with our school team’s logo on it, was worn backwards like most of the jocks at the school.  He didn’t come off like the rest of them though.  His relaxed vibe made him easy to talk to and he could be quite funny compared to the rest of the meathead jocks.  He got along with everyone really well, making him very well-liked.  Although he was far from the smartest guy in the class, I could tell that he tried.  It was no wonder why he was so popular.

Today, I was daydreaming when I was disrupted by our teacher, Mr. Martin.  I felt him stare directly at me, almost as if he knew I wasn’t paying attention.  It was like he could read my every thought, and honestly, if that were true, that’d be extremely humiliating.  The last thing I needed was for my crush on Aaron to be exposed to the rest of the class.  Knowing how embarrassing he could be, I wouldn’t put it past him.  He asked me a question, and I thankfully already knew the answer, as I awakened from my daydream.

“Correct!  I wasn’t sure if you were paying attention or not,” he chuckled.  “You always look like you’re off in your own little world.  But you still manage to do well.  You gotta tell the rest of your class your secret.”  Looks like someone has caught on to my tendencies.  Mr. Martin was a middle-aged guy, probably in his 30s.  He looked good for his age, and was a pretty relaxed and carefree teacher.

The class went by as usual, and eventually we were dismissed.  All of the other students dispersed, but I needed to ask our professor a question about the homework.  He helped clarify things for me thankfully.  I was about to leave, but then he pointed out something on the ground.

“Hey Aiden, doesn’t Aaron sit in front of you?  That’s his hat, right?”  he asked.

“Yeah, I always see him wear it.”  It was unusual for him to have left it here by accident.

“Do you know if you can bring it to him today?  If not, I can keep it here until next class.”

“I’ll hold onto it until I see him next.  I have a feeling I’ll run into him later.”  I don’t know why I said that.  We don’t have any other classes together and we certainly aren’t close enough to be friends, even if I wished we were.  I’m also not on the baseball team.  Either way, my professor smiled for helping him out.

Regardless, I grabbed Aaron’s hat, but instead of chasing after him, I realized I really needed to go to the bathroom.  He was probably long gone anyways.  After I went, I noticed that I was still holding onto his hat.  I went to observe it and I noticed that it smelled a little like him, with a mix of sweat from wearing it all day and whatever shampoo he used.  I knew I shouldn’t, but I felt a sudden urge to put Aaron’s hat on.  Despite the fact that I would feel really embarrassed if someone saw me wearing it, I knew I would likely never get this opportunity again.  I was completely alone, so it’s not like there’s anything wrong with it.  It wasn’t just any hat, it was Aaron’s.  It’s not like he had lice or anything.  What’s the worst that could happen?

And so I put it on, wearing it backwards like he would.  Strangely, for a few seconds, I felt as though time had completely stopped.  The leaky sink faucet paused its rhythmic dripping.  The stomping of feet in the hallway deafened.  My watch skipped a tick.  But as time seemed to return to its natural course, I was able to see how I looked.  I had to admit, I looked really good in it.  I wouldn’t call myself an unattractive guy, but Aaron was way out of my league.  Despite that, a smirk appeared on my face.  A wave of confidence washed over me, almost like a little bit of Aaron had rubbed off on me.  Suddenly, I didn’t really feel like taking it off anymore.  I wasn’t too worried about what would happen if Aaron or one of his friends saw me wearing it.

After admiring myself in the mirror for a few minutes, I realized that I was late to my next class, algebra.  I had no idea I had spent so much time checking myself out.  I must’ve lost track of time.  As I walked to my seat, I felt like all eyes were on me for some reason.  I never used to make much of an impression on most people.  I was quiet and had only a couple friends.  Normally, I would’ve felt a little anxious with so many people staring at me, but I didn’t really give a shit now.

“Late as always, aren’t we Aiden?”  the teacher remarked.  Very funny.  I always showed up on time.  I sat down in my seat, but it didn’t feel right.  My body squeezed tight into the desk.  I felt like I was sitting in a chair meant for a middle schooler.  Weird.  Something weird is going on, but I can’t figure out what it is.

The class was just as weird because I felt like my classmates were a little more talkative.  I couldn’t focus during class due to being distracted by someone whispering.  I still felt a couple of their eyes on me.  I looked over and made brief eye contact with one of the girls on the far side of the room.  She immediately looked away and giggled towards one of her friends.  Her cheeks turned a deep crimson, the color of passion.  She was cute, but definitely out of my league.  I wasn’t straight either way, so I didn’t care if she was into me.

Normally, I was good at math, even if I didn’t like it, but I felt myself struggling to answer questions today.  Something must be wrong.  The room felt hotter than usual, and I felt myself sweat a little and my body started to ache.  I noticed that I smelled a little like Aaron’s cologne.  I’ve recognized his scent from sitting behind him, but for that smell to linger and for me to smell like him is really weird.

Class was dismissed, and this was usually when I went to lunch.  I received a text from one of my friends, Bryan, from half an hour earlier.

Bryan: Hey, me and the guys are getting food.  Wanna come with?

Normally, we always got lunch at the same time.  But for some reason, I didn’t really want to?  That’s weird for me.  I felt my fingers move on my own as they typed out a message.

Me: nah bro i dont feel like it mayb sum other time dude

I didn’t text like that normally.  Nor did I turn down my friends. Is it the…Before I could finish my thought, I was interrupted by the booming sound of two guys further down the hall, with one of them calling my name.  They were two jocks.  I recognized that they were both friends with Aaron because they hung out together a lot.  What did they want?  I didn’t really get along well with either of them or the rest of their kind.  Hopefully they didn’t think I was a pervert for wearing Aaron’s hat and beat me up.

“Sup bro, we were just about to get some food before hitting the gym.  Wanna come with?”  the other jock asked me.  Judging from his tone, he seemed surprisingly friendly with me.

Were they serious?  Did these jocks actually think I was one of them?  I would never get an opportunity to hang out with them again, so I agreed.  Part of me felt guilty for ditching my nerdy friends to hang out with the jocks, but I knew they were cool guys.  My perspective on these two big jocks changed as I walked with them.  For some reason, I felt a strong sense of camaraderie with them, almost like I’ve known them for a long time.  I’m not sure why I was so intimidated by them before.  They were really chill.

I saw another one of my friends as I walked with my new friends.  I waved to him, but he barely seemed to notice me.  Was he mad at me for skipping lunch with them or did he seriously not recognize me since I was hanging out with the jocks?  It almost felt like he didn’t know me at all.

I pulled out my phone to see what was up with him, until I realized that Bryan had finally responded to me.

Bryan: My bad.  Thought you were someone else.  He must’ve given me the wrong number.

Was this some kind of prank?  He obviously knew my number.  Of course he knows who I am.  Whatever, I don’t care what a nerd like him thinks.  I put my phone away and resumed chatting with my jock friends.  You know, my real friends.  I noticed as I walked with them that they didn’t look as big and menacing as they seemed.  Either that or maybe I hit my growth spurt recently.

We went and got food, with the jocks making sure I got enough protein.  I swear I almost never eat this much.  The jocks must eat a lot to stay in shape, I thought to myself.  But did they seriously want me to go to the gym with them?  I had class soon.  But these guys were cool and I didn’t want to disappoint my bros.  I figured I could miss a day and go lift with them.  As long as it doesn’t turn into a habit.

I realized as we stepped into the gym that I had never worked out before nor had I stepped into an actual gym.  I was worried about coming across as weak and humiliating myself in front of them. I changed into some clothes that I'm not really sure when I bought, a tank top and gym shorts.  To my surprise, I simply followed the motions of my bros and I was able to work out with them just fine.  I noticed that I was able to keep up with their workouts, and I surprised myself with how much I could lift.  It shouldn’t have been possible to lift as much as they did but maybe they were just going easy on me because they knew I was a beginner.  By the time we finished, I was just in time for my last class.  But just before I parted ways with my new friends, one of them said something that caught me off guard.

“Later, Moore.”

Must’ve been a slip of the tongue.  There was no way in hell they mistook me for Aaron.  At least it gave me a mental reminder to give Aaron his hat back next time I see him.  Although…his hat is so nice that I’m a little tempted to keep it for myself.  He could always just get another one, right?  I just don’t want him to see me wearing it though, so I’ll only do it when he’s not around.

In class, everyone was still staring at me as if I went to school in my underwear.  Maybe there was something weird about me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.  I did smell a little bit since I came from my workout, but I don’t think it was that.  I shrugged it off.  They can stare all they want for all I care.  I felt incredibly sore after my workout, and my arms looked unnaturally swollen.  If I had to be honest, I almost felt as big as the two jocks I worked out with.  But in such a short amount of time?  With no prior lifting experience?  That was impossible.

I found myself completely zoned out and indifferent to class today.  All I wanted to do was leave and uh…What was it that I had going on later?  I pondered that thought throughout the entire class period.  Eventually, we were dismissed and I was free to leave.  I was walking towards the dorms until I ran into, guess who?  Aaron Moore.

“Hey bro, you still coming to practice?”  he asked.

“Practice?”

“Yeah, baseball practice, you big dummy!  You know, you’re always so forgetful, dude.  Good thing I always was the smarter one, bro.”

“Yeah, you’re right, bro.  My bad.”  I’m not sure which statement I was agreeing with.  But as I looked at him, I realized something.  He was wearing his hat!  But then how was I wearing his hat if he was wearing it?  “I thought you lost your hat.  How are you wearing it?”

“I was wearing my hat all day, dude.  One day you decided to copy me and wear your hat to school like I do.  But honestly, I think you rock it better than I do, so keep it up.  You’ll impress the ladies.”  But I was gay.  And I’ve only had this hat for a day.  If it wasn’t his, then how was it actually mine?  I was overwhelmed and full of questions after everything that had happened today, from my growth spurt, to me hanging out with the jocks, to my old friends barely knowing who I am, but I didn’t seem to have the brain power at the moment to seek the answers to them.

As we walked, I kept chatting with Aaron as if it was natural, as if we always knew each other.  Something felt off, but I couldn’t figure it out.  Was it because we were going to practice?  I’ve never played baseball in my life.  Nah, that can’t be right.  I feel like I’ve swung a bat before…  We went into the locker room to change.  I looked in the mirror and paused for a second.

My reflection wasn’t there.  Someone else’s was.  Someone much stronger and much taller than me.  That wasn’t me.  It was Aaron Moore.

No, except it wasn’t an exact match.  There was enough different about the guy in front of me to know that it wasn’t Aaron.  This figure was a little stronger than him, and still stood probably a little over 6 feet tall.  I walked closer.  “Aaron” walked closer.  I moved my hand to feel my face.  So did “Aaron”.  A dull, confused look appeared on his face.  Had I really become him?  But Aaron was over on the other end of the room changing.  Then who am I?  Was I like this since I put the hat on earlier?  I reached into my wallet and pulled out my ID.

Aiden Moore...That’s not my last name.  That’s…Aaron’s?  Normally I wouldn’t have minded taking his last name, but we definitely WEREN’T married.  As far as I knew, Aaron was as straight as an arrow.

Date of Birth: 08/17/2003…If I recall, that’s Aaron’s birthday.  I knew my birthday, and it was in January.  Don’t tell me…Are we…?

I compared the face in the ID to the one in the mirror.  It wasn’t an illusion, and it wasn’t a dream.  It was like I was his twin!  Aaron was an only child though and I only had sisters.  At this point, I was so confused and overwhelmed.  Panic was the only emotion I could feel as I felt like I was going through an identity crisis.  I realized that this all started when I wore his hat.  I reached to grab it off of my head…until I felt a hand touch my shoulder.  My bro…I mean Aaron.

“Admiring yourself in the mirror, bro?  Yeah, you’re a pretty handsome dude just like me.  I think it runs in the blood, you know.  You like that, right?”  He placed his other hand on my head, pushing the hat tighter on my head.  I nodded.  I proceeded to flex, as I became self-absorbed with my own reflection.  I always thought rather highly of myself, especially about my body.  At this point, I couldn’t comprehend the paradox of me somehow being his own non-existent twin brother.

“You know, not every guy is lucky enough to have a cool brother like I do, let alone a twin.  The two of us can play ball together, work out together, and even get all the chicks we want together.  This is all you ever wanted, right?”  He wasn’t necessarily wrong, but I wanted to be “with” Aaron, not be him.  Whoever granted me this wish got it all wrong.  But as I listened to him, I started to realize that maybe it wasn’t my wish to begin with.

“Yeah bro.  This shit’s the life, dude.”  I noticed Aaron’s face light up as I said that.  The way I talked sounded like it came out of the mouth of some dudebro.  I noticed his irresistible smirk that was always on his face when he was in a good mood.  As I kept admiring myself in the mirror, I felt my mind slow…down...like it was on autopilot…

“That’s right…Just let it happen…  I know it’s been a while, so it’s okay if you don’t remember, but you know that one trophy we won a couple years back?  During senior year?”

“Fuck yeah, bro.  I remember.”  But I’ve never played baseball before…But…I have right?  I know I have.

“You know you were the reason we won, right?  One lucky hit in the bottom of the ninth, and you practically won us the game.  I’ve never been more proud of you bro.”  Aaron patted me on the back.  I remembered that game fondly, even though I should have no recollection of it.  That year, our baseball team was the best in the state.  And I…led our team to a championship?  As much as I tried to deny it in my head, the memories felt real.  But why was he reminding me of this now?

“You didn’t do half bad yourself, bro.”

As Aaron and I kept chatting, the memories of being his twin brother kept flowing into my brain, as memories of my former life faded away.  Turns out that I was the brother he never had.  We were a pair.  We complemented each other perfectly.  I was actually the twin brother of the most popular guy in the school.  I remember I thought he was hot…wait, what the fuck, bro?  That’s gay as shit.  And weird.  This was my own twin we were talking about.  Although I guess if I was a handsome stud, then he’d have to be too.  After all, no girl can resist either one of us.

“So the hat is working…”  Aaron whispered under his breath.

“What hat?”

“Nothing, bro!  I was just saying how good your hat looks on you.  Come on, let’s go.”  I followed him, as my transformation was now complete.

From this day on, I was Aiden Moore, Aaron Moore’s twin brother.  Except that’s who I was technically born as and that's who everyone already knew me as.  Although we had a lot in common, I definitely felt more like a stereotypical jock.  I was loud, cocky, and masculine, almost to the point of brutishness, compared to my brother who was a lot more laid-back and charismatic.  Not that it was a bad thing, although most nerds and weaker men would disagree.  But what me and Aaron did have in common was playing sports, working out, fucking chicks, and being the most popular guys in the school.  I know I wanted to be closer to Aaron, but I never expected this.  But at the same time, it felt good, almost pleasurable at times.  I realized that in my new state, I could hardly last a day without an orgasm, whether it was in my grip or in some bitch’s pussy.

Two days later, I had biology again.  I remembered I kinda struggled with this class.  I sat behind my bro as usual.  I was grateful for him since he always helped me with the homework.  I noticed him talking to the professor in private when we got to class.  When I asked him, he wouldn’t say.  It wasn’t like him to keep secrets from me.  We practically knew everything about each other after all.  After class, I was called to stay after by Mr. Martin.

“Aiden Moore…Your brother told me to check up on you.  Is everything alright?  Did you need any guidance on the homework, too?”

“Never felt better, bro.  I think I was just up too late partying the other day.  And nah, I eventually figured it out, dude.”  I conveniently hid the fact that I copied the answers off of some nerd.

“Good, good.”  Mr. Martin smiled.  “I won’t leave you too long.  I know you two have your hands full with practice today.  Hmmm…Still wearing that hat, I see.  It suits you well, Aiden.”  I saw him write something down in a notebook as I left.  Mr. Martin was always cool.  I felt like he understood me and my brother better than most teachers here.  I couldn’t help but feel grateful for him, but for what?  I quickly discarded that thought because it wasn’t important to me.

What was important to me was hitting the gym with my bros.  I ditched class again, I don’t even remember what the class was anyways.  Probably nothing important.  As long as I pass and get to stay on the team, I couldn’t care less about how badly I do in school.  I’m basically only here because I got some fancy scholarship.

At the gym, I always pushed myself to lift the heaviest weights.  All of my bros were impressed with how much I could lift.  Must run in the blood.  After school, I went to practice with Aaron.  We shared a room at the dorms, and on the weekends, we always went to the biggest parties our school had to offer.  We always bragged to each other about what girls we slept with that night, almost like it was a competition.  Man, this was the life.  I never felt like I understood Aaron on a personal level until recently, but man, we were the luckiest pair of brothers in the school.

[barcaatthemoon]

in your corner || barcelona x teen!reader ||

the team shows up to your graduation when your parents don't.

it didn't feel right sitting in the back of a taxi. you should have been riding to your graduation with your family, but they had deemed your brother's track meet more important. they believed that one day, he'd be an olympian, despite the fact that you already were. it had always been like that in your family though, your brother's accomplishments outshining yours no matter the difference.

today, you graduated from school, which you had attended while also easing your way into soccer full time. anybody else would have thought that was a marvel in and of itself except for your parents. because it was you, they only questioned why you weren't top of your class. any bit of excellence on your part looked like the pinnacle of mediocracy in your parents' eyes.

in hindsight, yelling at them to just forget about you was not your best idea. it was why after this, you were packing up your things and moving them into a new apartment. there had been an opening in bruna's building, so you took it. you could easily afford the apartment with your salary at the club, especially not that you'd be getting starter time.

the taxi came to a stop, and you were careful in picking your facial expression for the day. this was a happy day, and you couldn't let your peers know how disappointed you were about your parents abandoning you. you kept a happy face on during the ceremony, one that was fake until you looked out into the crowd while you accepted your diploma to see your teammates.

it was unmistakablely every single one of them sitting there, including girls who you had briefly played with on the b and youth teams. your heart swelled with joy, and for the first time that day, your tears were happy ones. suddenly, you couldn't wait for the ceremony to end so you could go see them. each of those girls had become like family for you, and it was your first taste of what family was supposed to be like. they were your support system, always cheering you on no matter what endeavor you pursued.

"no more homework!" mapi exclaimed as she scooped you up into a hug. you laughed as she spun you around and around. her least favorite part of every practice was when alexia made you sit with vicky while you studied or finished up your school work. in mapi's mind, that was always during prime goofing off time. "come on, my mami wants pictures."

you let yourself get pushed around for several sets of pictures with your teammates. none of them mentioned the absence of your parents, most likely thanks to a briefing from alexia and patri. slowly, they all began to shuffle out and disperse, leaving you to catch a ride with aitana and keira for lunch. it was a team thing, so more of the girls would be there, but keira had quickly claimed the spot to drive you there.

"i'm proud of you kiddo," keira said as she wrapped her arm around your shoulders. there had been a lot of changes during the season, and while the change scared you, keira had been like your rock. she was the biggest help to you learning english and solidifying your spot in one of the best midfields in the world. "i've got a surprise for you when we get to the restaurant."

"a surprise?" you perked up instantly. it was somewhat childish, but you loved surprises. usually, they were good when it came to your teammates. you knew that keira would never do anything to hurt you, having taken you under her wing like you were her child. both of your english teammates had, but lucy had departed from spain a couple weeks ago.

you had been more than a bit bummed out by the news, but you understood. lucy had done what she felt she needed to at barcelona. you were also going to be on your way out temporarily. you had spoken with your coaches and management about going to college, and they had signed off on you taking a gap year to play the next season before you went off to america. you were committed to a school, but you had yet to tell your teammates which one.

lunch was nice, despite the fact that you couldn't focus because you kept trying to figure out what keira's surprise was. it wasn't until you noticed several of your teammates filming you that you got a bit nervous. luckily, you didn't have to wait too long after the cameras were brought out. alexia mentioned something about dessert, and when you turned around expecting to see the waiter, you saw lucy standing there in a tarheels shirt.

"i didn't tell anybody," you mumbled, unaware of how they could have known where you were going.

"sorry that i missed your graduation, but i'm so proud of you. i can't wait to watch you next year in carolina," lucy said as she wrapped one arm around you. the little plate with a slice of cake was set in front of you, but you didn't pay it any mind. you wrapped your arms around lucy's body in a tight hug. "score some goals for me, okay?"

"i'll try for more than what i score against you." everybody at the table laughed at your joke, except for lucy, who knew that you were serious. she could be the best in the world, and you'd still managed to get one or two past her. the whole team would work to make sure that you did. they wanted the world to know how good you were, which lucy knew would make for an interesting champion's league with her new team.

"we'll see about that," lucy mumbled as she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. you glanced around you at your teammates and friends surrounding you. it was the happiest that you'd ever been, but something told you that there was only going to be more to come with them in your life.

[fatkish]

Class 1A x Thunderbird Quirk Reader: Media Hordes

It was all over every news site. Pro Hero Student (Y/L/N) (Y/N) Stops Typhoon: the amazing feat of a UA student from Class 1A. You had been interning with a pro hero in a small town when the call came in that a serious Typhoon was heading straight for the town. The town was in a flood zone and the locals were trying desperately to sure up their homes and businesses to minimize the damage. The storm was a really bad one and was predicted to cause some fatalities. In order to protect the citizens, you took off into the sky and met the typhoon and managed to reroute the storm to a non populated area.

The damage that would have been caused by the storm was avoided. All that the town experienced was some rainfall but not enough to flood the town. When the citizens heard of what you did, they praised and thanked you. One of your dreams as a Pro Hero was to help bring rainstorms to areas with severe droughts and prevent flooding. This was the first time you actually did something you dreamed of doing.

So the next day after your work study, reporters were swarming the UA gates. It’s one thing when you’re swarmed by people and media that is local to an area you saved, it’s another thing to be swarmed by unaffiliated media groups. Which is exactly what you walked into after your exhaustion from the previous day. You didn’t even realize how many reporters were there due to your near sleep-walking. So you accidentally waltzed right into them.

That’s one hell of a rude awakening. The reporters kept shoving their microphones into your face and a torrent of voices were asking questions. All the sudden attention made you temporarily freeze as your brain tried to comprehend what was happening and create a response that wouldn’t ruin your image. Luckily the school had predicted this kind of thing and had things set in place to help you.

As you were crowded by media, Bakugou literally blasted his way through the horde. Creating an opening that allowed for Todoroki to create a small barrier of ice. Iida came running through and picked you up bridal style, running past the media and quickly depositing you next to Aizawa at the front gate. Sato had baked some muffins for you in case you hadn’t eaten breakfast. Momo gave you a cup of milk tea to help wake you up.

As the Bakusquad and Todoroki helped the teachers disperse the media as students arrived, Midoriya and the others made sure you got to class okay. After eating a few muffins and finishing your tea, you were finally awake enough to function. After the bell rang, Aizawa made sure that you were okay and able to do your schoolwork. After the morning classes finished and it was time for lunch, your classmates couldn’t hold themselves back anymore. They had so many questions about what happened and wanted to hear everything. Every detail, every word, they listened carefully as you recounted what happened.

After classes were over, Aizawa had you stay behind to work on what you missed. Midoriya and Momo had copied their notes from your missed classes and gave them to you. Aizawa sat with you and helped you go over what subjects you struggled with, making sure that you understood the assignment and material. After finishing up your homework and missed work, Aizawa sat and talked to you about what you experienced and made sure that nothing was bothering you. Needless to say, he was very proud of your work and congratulated you on finally doing what you dreamed of as a pro.

[koolades-world]

Spellbound Secrets

prologue: calm before the storm

synopsis: The House of Lamentation caught fire one night, and you were the only one they recovered from the wreckage. The brothers were in the house as well when you went to bed that night, but they were nowhere to be found. The pact marks are faded, and seem to be getting more and more indefinite by the day. You and Solomon get to investigating but oddly enough, nobody can seem to remember the missing brothers. It’s up to you, with the help of Solomon, to find your beloved demons, lest you never see them again.

navigation: playlist | prologue (you are here!) | chapter one (coming next saturday)

authors note: this was postponed because a roach haha, but! it’s finally here and I’m excited to share the product of my hard work with you all! what do we think of the banner? made it myself! i think it’s nice but I’ll probably hate it in a couple of years haha. please do check out the playlist i made too. more explanation will be made on the post about it :) special thanks to @aaliyahxxvi and @rcbsbb for beta reading each and every chapter for me, as well as being awesome friends <3

While your several years of living in the Devildom came with its challenges, you wouldn't trade it for anything. It was hard to adjust to, and it felt like every day came with a new hurtle for you to overcome. From almost having your soul stolen, to almost failing several classes, to almost dying, you'd seen it all. But, every time, the key word was almost. You always made it out relatively unscathed, to the point where it was a running joke between you and the brothers, some more so than others. (Lucifer didn't find it very funny.)

You really couldn't ask for more. Despite how things seemed early on in your stay, you'd really begun to enjoy everything about the life you hadn't expected, no less asked for. There was so much about living you truly looked forward to now.

Every morning, you knew to expect Mammon either in your room already because he spent the night over, or barging in as soon as he was awake so you could get ready together. More often than not, in the middle of getting ready, Asmo would burst into the room and ask your opinion on what to wear that day. He and Mammon would bicker and if you didn't end the fighting, they'd disperse on their own once they realized you'd walked off. Lucifer wasn't a morning demon, which took you longer to learn that you'd thought, still took the time out of his morning to brew you a cup of coffee.

Every afternoon, you enjoyed a tea with Satan while you read or did some homework together. Sometimes, you didn't say a single word to each other, but just being together was comforting enough. Then, you'd spent a while with Levi, playing whatever game he'd selected for that day. If it was a game you couldn't play together, you'd happily talk about your day while the other played the game. Finally, once it started to get later in the day and the Devildom began to cool down, you accompanied Beel on his second workout of the day. After a long day, you snuggled with Belphie and unwound. As much as he protested about it, he made a great pillow.

You always had a movie night at least once a week which everyone was required to attend; the brothers didn't have it in them to say no. More often than not, the members of Purgatory Hall and the Demon Lord's Castle (if Barbatos permitted it) came over to join you. It was just a fun excuse to get together and enjoy each other's company.

The routine was comforting, to say the least. You'd all grown into it. You felt safe, and content.

That night had started and ended just like any other. It had been Asmo's turn to cook dinner, and as part of a deal the two of you had made together, he'd agreed to make your favorite. In exchange, he made you promise to reserve one evening just for him. Lingering in the kitchen while he cooked was one of your favorite pastimes.

That night, you were almost certain you feel asleep with three demons in your room. Mammon had claimed your right side, as he usually did, which left your other side up for grabs. Satan laid on your left with a book in hand, one you recognized as one you'd gotten together in the human world, and a little reading light. Levi was at the end of the bed, on his Devilswitch. You and Mammon had briefly argued over the remote, but in the end, you selected what you watched even though he had the remote. You chided Satan for having the light on, to which he apologized for and tried his best to keep it out of your eyes. He didn't move though, because he wasn't willing to give up his spot. Levi didn't cause too much of a disturbance, only the occasional exclamations about whatever he was playing.

It wasn't anything out of the ordinary: how things should be. You looked forward to tomorrow. You could already picture what the next day held. You had plans with Satan to head to a new bookstore at the edge of town, and Beel wanted to go on an evening hike and picnic in a nearby park, to which you weren't going to refuse.

If only things were to play out as you imagined.

You weren't sure exactly what time it was when you woke up, but it was blistering, and you couldn't identify a reason why. Your sheets were dangling off the bed, likely the doing of Mammon. You fan was at the highest speed, but it actually only seemed to be making the heat worse. Even stranger was the fact that not a single one of the demons you'd fallen asleep with at your side was present. Not Satan, not Levi, and even not Mammon. In your sleepy stupor, you peeled off the fluffy jacket you were wearing in an attempt to cool off, leaving you in a thinner undershirt. As you plodded around the room, you saw they were nowhere in sight. Their belongings were scattered about, as if they were only going to be gone for a short amount of time and might be back any minute.

Perhaps you might've gone back to bed if you didn't hear the sound of a voice you thought you recognized through the door, accompanied by a muffled roaring. The doorknob burned to the touch, waking you up fully. You wrung out your hand and hissed, cradling it close to your body. It would surely result in a burn later, but for now, that was the least of your concern. The smell of smoke flooded your senses. The was a fire happening in the House of Lamentation, and you were trapped in your room with no way out.

You retreated back to your bed, ripping it apart in search of your D.D.D. Once you found it, you struggled to dial the Devildom equivalent of 911. Thankfully, the call went through and if nobody else had already made a call, they would be on their way.

"666, what is the address of your emergency?" The operator on the other end of the line spoke calmly and clearly.

"The House of Lamentation. The big, haunted creepy house. On Hollow Avenue. I think my house is on fire. I'm trapped in my bedroom." You kept your voice as even as you could so she could understand you.

"The fire department is on their way, sweetie. Are there any other exits?" You could hear the sound of the operator typing.

"No. The only way out is my door, and I burnt my hand on the doorknob. I know you're not supposed to open the door." You weren't sure when you had begun to shake, and struggled to hold the phone up to your ear.

"Alright, put a towel underneath the door to block smoke. Stay low to the ground if you can. What floor are you on?" You could hear the information you were giving to the operator being relayed to others. Doing as she asked, you threw open your closet door and shoved as many towels as you could between the door and the floor.

"First. I'm on the first floor. First floor. I'm not the only one who lives here though. They might be trapped too. I heard someone else before." You thought you heard someone yelling when you'd first approached the door, but you became quickly preoccupied with your own matters. You wished you hadn't.

"Don't panic. Someone is coming to rescue you. I'll stay on the line with you, alright?" She reassured you.

"Thank you." There was a slight pause in your conversation, so you continued to speak. "What's going to happen if they can't get to me in time?" A sort of morbid curiosity crossed your mind. You didn't want to find out, but the thought lingered.

"You're all going to be alright. Talk to me. What's your name?" You didn't know much about the tactics of dispatchers, but maybe she was trying to keep you calm.

"Mc. I'm Mc. I'm one of the human exchange students." You stumbled over your own name. You had no clue what to do besides answer her questions. You felt useless just standing in one spot, but were rooted there.

"How many other people are in the house?" She remained calm, and you took a deep breath, so you could continue to answer her questions. You could feel the panic creeping in and begin envelop you, not unlike the smoke you were trying to block out.

"There should be seven others. A family. I don't know where they are. They were in my room, but they're gone." She probably already knew who the brothers were, and who you were, but you couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of your mouth.

"What are you wearing?" She asked you.

"It's really hot in here, miss." You were quickly growing lightheaded, and drenched in sweat.

"I know. I'm sorry. What are you wearing?" She repeated herself.

"Um, a white tank top and some blue checkered pajama pants." Neither article of clothing belonged to you. The pants were Lucifer's and the tank top you'd stolen from Mammon. It was the one thing about the situation that managed to get you to think a little more positively.

"What's the charge on your device, Mc?" Her using your name shocked you a little. It took you a second to realize you'd just given her your name, which is how she knew.

"It's getting low." Because of the brothers staying over in your room, you never had the chance to plug it in before you went to sleep. Mammon had told you he would do it, but it seems you'd both forgotten.

"What percent?" She asked.

"Twenty-nine." You hoped the battery would last long enough.

"Don't hang up. Help will be there shortly." You tried to respond, but it felt as if all the breath had been knocked out of you. You felt as if your legs were going to give way, so you took a seat on the edge of your bed.

"Miss, I don't feel good." Sweat rolled down your forehead and would've gone into your eyes if you didn't swipe it away, which was growing more and more difficult by the second. The heat was agonizing and you almost felt like you were melting.

"Keep talking to me. How old are you?" When you didn't respond, the operator prompted you again. "Mc? Are you still there?"

You tried to continue to speak to her, but you couldn't form the words you wanted to. Nothing came out correctly. She continued to speak to you, but you just wanted to lay down. She grew quieter the more time passed. The room had started spinning at some point. The urge to close your eyes grew stronger and stronger, so you told yourself just a moment wouldn't hurt.

The next thing you remembered was waking up in what had to be a hospital room. You didn't recognize anything in the room, and everything was unusually bright. Whoever had last been in your room had tucked you in carefully in your hospital bed. You could see from your chest down, but your arms were sitting on to of the covers. An IV drip was in your left arm, and from the elbow down, your right arm was wrapped in bandages. The TV in the room was on to your favorite Devildom cooking channel. It was an episode you'd seen before, so you didn't bother to focus on it. Besides the sound of the television you could hear hushed whispering and shuffling from the hallway, and the constant beeping of the machine connected to you.

As you were taking in your surroundings, the door just out of your line of sight opened. You expected it to be one of the brothers, or a nurse maybe, but it was Solomon. It was nice to see a familiar face regardless of who it belonged to.

"Mc! You're awake. I'll call the nurse." With a smile befitting of the gods, he moved to leave the room again.

"Wait, please." He paused with his hand on the doorknob. "What happened?" Solomon backtracked and pulled up a chair to sit beside your bed. You stared at him expectantly, as he thought about, presumably, what to say next.

"The House of Lamentation caught on fire, but thankfully, you were alright. You got some burns but the doctor says it could've been much worse. You've been out for about a day now. How much do you remember?" He flexed his fingers.

"Not much, but I think that's a good thing. How are the brothers? I hope they're doing well." You expected Solomon to just answer the question, but instead, he cocked an eyebrow.

"What are you talking about?" At first, you just assumed he was kidding, but this was an odd thing to be joking about.

"You know, the seven brothers? They're the avatars of sin? They should've been in the house. Are they fine or did they get hurt in the fire too?" When he only stared at you blankly, you didn't know how to react. "You're scaring me, Solomon. This isn't funny." You thought back over what you'd said. It all made sense in your head, but something just wasn't clicking for Solomon.

"Who are 'the brothers?'"

[elephantshoetoo]

So, I wrote this little miwi flashback scene today. I plan to use it in The Byler Files somewhere, but I don't know where yet. Probably Vol.4.

(*warning: contains a homophobic slur.)

May 7th, 1979,

The schoolyard at Hawkins Elementary…

(It's morning recess. After staying back to talk to his teacher about a late homework assignment, 8-year-old Mike Wheeler exits the building with Miss Drew to find his best friend Will huddled in a corner, his legs pulled up to his chest, quietly crying into his knees. Mike rushes over to him, alarmed.)

MIKE: Will! What happened?! Are you okay? Why… why are you crying?

(The teacher catches up and bends down to check on him.)

MISS DREW: Will…? Honey? Can you tell me what happened?

(Will shakes his head and pulls himself in tighter.)

MIKE: Are you sick? Are you hurt?

(Still not looking up, he shakes his head again. Mike rubs his back, concerned.)

MISS DREW: Sweetie, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong…

(Will doesn't respond. He squeezes his legs like he's trying to fold in on himself and disappear.)

MIKE (to the teacher): I… I can probably get him to talk… (Nodding, she mouths, “Okay,” and continues watching them.) Um… alone.

MISS DREW: Oh. Alright. (She hesitates, but decides it's probably the best course of action.) Well, let me know if he needs anything, okay?

MIKE: Yes, ma’am.

(Once she's gone, Mike puts his arms around Will and holds him tight, rocking slightly to comfort him. He softly hums the tune of “I Want You to Want Me” by Cheap Trick. When he feels Will start to loosen up, Mike pulls back to see if he'll talk yet.)

MIKE (softly): Will? Are you okay? What happened?

WILL (sniffling, into his knees): It's… it's nothing. It's stupid.

MIKE: Hey, it's not nothing if it upsets you… You can tell me.

(Will sighs and leans into Mike, whose arm is still cradled around his back.)

MIKE: Please…?

WILL: Okay… (Mike soothingly strokes Will's hair, waiting patiently for him to feel safe enough to open up. Will tilts his head slightly and peeks up at Mike. He's greeted with an encouraging smile and relaxes a bit more. Gathering his thoughts, Will starts to talk, slowly at first, his words tinged with shame.) James and Troy were… were calling me names again. And… and everybody laughed.

MIKE: Oh.

(Mike looks out at the schoolyard. A few groups of kids are still hovering nearby, glancing at them and whispering. Mike sends them a piercing scowl and they quickly disperse.)

MIKE: What did they call you?

WILL: Troy said his dad told him I'm a… a…

(Will tears up a bit and hides his face again.)

MIKE (gently coaxing): A what?

WILL (cringing): A… a disguting… f*ggot…?

MIKE: Oh. (He looks down, wincing, then purses his lips and resolves to make Will feel better.) Well… it doesn't matter what they think. They're a bunch of stinky dunderheads anyway. (Will chuckles sadly for a brief moment.) I mean, they even waited until Lucas was home sick and I… (regretfully) wasn't here. They're total cowards.

WILL: I know, but… it's not just them – everybody thinks it. Even my dad.

MIKE: R-really…?

WILL (looking down): Yeah.

MIKE: Well… I don't.

(Will gazes over at Mike, overwhelmingly relieved to hear this.)

WILL: Y-you don't?

MIKE: No! I could never think anything bad about you. You're… you're perfect, Will.

WILL (quietly): No, I'm not.

MIKE: I think you are…

WILL: Really…?

MIKE: Yeah. Really.

WILL: But… what if it turns out they're right?

MIKE: They're NOT!

WILL: But, what if… what if they are? Would… would you still like me?

MIKE: Will. (Mike holds Will's face between his hands and peers resolutely into his eyes. He speaks gently but insistently.) I would still love you.

(A flash of joy lights up Will's whole face.)

WILL: Y-you would?

MIKE: Yeah! Of course. You're my best friend. (He squeezes Will's hand reassuringly.) Nothing could ever change that, okay?

(Fresh tears slip down Will's cheeks. He gives Mike a small, grateful smile, rubbing his thumb over Mike's knuckles for comfort.)

WILL: Okay.

(Mike tenderly caresses Will's face, wiping away his tears, then pulls him against his chest, kissing the top of his head. Holding Will securely in his arms, Mike's heart glows with a sparkly kind of warmth.)

WILL: Mike…?

MIKE: Yeah?

WILL: D’you know a f*ggot is…?

MIKE: No… D-do you?

WILL (shrugging): I dunno. Something horrible and gross, I think. It… it sounds like… some kind of… monstrous garden slug, maybe...?

MIKE (laughing): Well, you're definitely not that!

WILL (also laughing): No, I guess not.

(Mike gives Will one last comforting hug before they stand up and, hand in hand, head over to swings. Watching them from the school steps, Miss Drew smiles to herself.)

(END SCENE)

*The Byler Files, vol 1 and 2, and the first half of vol. 3 are all on AO3, under the name ElephantShoe.

Okay, now I seriously need to get back to the story I'm supposed to be working on.

(Procrastination -- the best way to get something *else* done. Am I right?)

[plush-rabbit]

Dating Headcanons for Himiko Toga

Request: Could you possibly write headcanons for Toga with a fem civilian s/o?

A/N: I love her design so much!! I love her fangs and bangs and her eyes!! She’s so cute!!

-

Himiko loves with her entire being. She never meant it to be twisted or malicious, but certain upbringings and repression has made it out to be so. Having her as a partner is a dangerous one, she’s a villain- a young one at that. She is unstable, but she never means for her own obsession to hurt you with malicious intent. She can’t control it, she loves too much- too wholeheartedly. 

Perhaps she has a type looking at her past two most obvious crushes. She likes to think that she doesn’t- that she loves people and all that they are, but she likes convictions. That’s what attracted her to the young two promising heroes, how far they were willing to go for the other, but you aren’t a hero. You’re a civilian, and it's been a long time since she actually liked anyone like you. But she becomes lovestruck when she sees how kind you are. 

There’s a panic around the area caused by her and the others- people push past one another and somehow she’s been caught in the middle of it, pushed to the ground where her bare knees become scraped. The crowd disperses as soon as she's in the ground, and she’s not astanger to scrapes and cuts, but the knee injury hurts just a bit too much, and any pressure on her ankle makes her think that she might have twisted it. She’s taken in a sharp breath, ready to brace herself and move forward when a hand is held out in front of her. You must know who she is, when you hold out your hand to her when she’s fallen, there’s no doubt that even with her attire, there has to be some common sense in your head telling you to run the other way. Instead of doing the most logical option, you help her up, and hold her hand in yours for just a moment too long, until you pull away and mumble an apology, running the other, leaving her in the middle of the desolate plaza, with her heart beating against her chest. Late at night, she lays awake thinking of you, fisting the hand that you held and covering it protectively with her free hand. 

She wishes that it were more of a challenge to find you- you’re too predictable, too easy and unaware of your surroundings, especially after an attack where you happened to be at. Fortunately for her, you walk home alone for a few blocks and that’s when she makes herself known, grabbing at your hand, and pulling you close to her. You’re startled, but not scared, and you let her lead you into an alleyway where you certainly don’t belong. She’s infatuated. Lovestruck. Obsessed. You aren’t scared of her. You’re letting her hold your hand. She already knows you’re kindhearted. She knows your name. She knows your schedule. She introduces herself, and when you reply back with your own name, she wraps her arms around you, already giving you a nickname, one dripped in sugar and everything nice.

There’s only so many places the two of you can be together without raising suspicions, and your family has already started to wonder why you keep going to the playground at night, so that location has to be shelved until further notice. Other than that, you often go wherever she leads you to which happens to be the current location of the League hideout. They didn’t take too kindly to you at first- Twice, or Jin- being the most harsh in wanting to keep you out of any type of League affairs. You later learn that he and Himiko have a rather close relationship, so you understand the brash behavior and reservations that he may have about you. The both of you usually meet up together after school. While you do your homework, she likes to peer over your shoulder and help with whatever she can. When you have passages to read, you like to read them outloud to her. She’s always happy when she gets to hear you read to her no matter how boring the story may be because she can rest her head on your shoulder.

No matter how sweet she can be, she’s still obsessive. Her questions always start off innocent enough- how did your day go? What did you learn? How was gym class? Who were you with during lunch? You’re not getting bothered are you? Is that teacher still giving you a hard time about your grades? She needs to know how your day went, and when she doesn’t know, that has her worrying her bottom lip. She cares too strongly, loves too fiercely. When she notices that you’ve had a particularly draining day, she holds off on the questions, instead taking you into her arms and resting her cheek over the top of your head. 

It comes to no surprise that she’s an affectionate person. She loves to have her hand on you in some type of way. Your hand will be in hers, and she;ll press her palm against yours, comparing the size and slowly intertwine your hand with hers. Whenever you do your homework there at the hideout, she sits next to you, mumbling about how she always hated homework, and what subject she was the worst at. Sometimes, she’ll get a forlorn look in her eyes, and when she realizes that you;ve been staring at her, she’ll press her lips against your cheek and rest her head on your lap, asking you to read her the chapter of the day. 

The rest of the League- once they get used to you and agree with each other that you probably won’t rat them out- do they actually tease the young member. It did take a while for the rest of the League to become comfortable with you and while you won’t admit it to your partner, you’re positive that they each gave you their own version of a shovel talk. During the threats, a part of you thinks that it’s nice that she found a family within them, how they all care for each other without actively saying it. Most of them didn’t even actually have a full conversation with you, only showcasing their quirks in front of you and you quickly understood that that was a threat. 

With her quirk, she feels the need to have to suck on blood. And being around you can be a struggle. There has to be restraint, especially since she doesn’t want to scare you away from her. There’s been a handful of times where you’ve gotten a cut in front of her, and each and every time, she watched you with unblinking eyes. The scent of iron is thick in the air no matter how little the cut was, and there’s a heavy flush that reddens her face. She hardly makes a sound, and it reminds you of a predator watching their prey, with how her pupils dilate and how silently she moves. She leaves the room for a few minutes and returns as if nothing has happened, asking you if you’re okay and giving the bandaged wound a kiss.

Whether you give her a taste of your blood or not, she understands both decisions and she doesn’t press. She won’t ask for a drop of your blood. She’s loyal to you, and she just likes to be around you- more than she would have ever realized. If you were to offer your blood to drink to Himiko, she takes it as a great show of your relationship with her. She’ll take your arm and ask how you would like to do it. She could give you a little cut, or bite down, or press her needle into the soft of your elbow- whatever it is that you choose, she’s fine with that fact. Either way, she takes your hand in hers, twisting it around and kissing at every inch of skin that she can, mumbling how she's thankful for having met you. There’s still red beads of scarlet that prick from your skin, and watching you, she swipes the tip of her tongue across the wound, pressing a kiss into it and mumbling how she has to clean you up now. There’s a lovely look in her eyes when she glances up to you, her pink dusted in pink, and only deepening when you kiss her.

[kinninggojo]

FIREPLACES | HJP / YOU

you start to think your friend harry potter is quite attractive.

a/n • idk what the fuck this is! my first time writing in about 5 years and i’ve also never written for hp characters despite loving harry from the age of 5.

theme • angsty and fluffy, i don’t write smut (for now!!!)

warnings • mentions of death, grieving harry, violence

word count is 4.1k, i wrote this in one sitting.

you weren’t exactly irrelevant, your name was at least recognised, however you were also perfectly and plainly ordinary. you didn’t have a huge number of friends at hogwarts, however you were lucky to be well acquainted with harry potter. you weren’t close enough with him to spill your deepest and innermost thoughts, but you enjoyed laughing with him on the way to dinner most evenings; you greeted each other warmly whenever you passed him in the corridor and even offered to help him with his homework on the odd occasion. it was a simple friendship - nice. your conversations never got much deeper than, “hello”, “how are you?”, “have you handed your essay on werewolves in yet?”, but they were pleasant nevertheless. the most you knew about him was that he had triumphed against voldemort (but who didn’t) and lived in an awfully dull neighbourhood called little whinging, but he never went into any detail about his encounters, you assumed that he saved those stories for his best friends ron and hermione. in fact, the more you considered it, you realised that harry was actually a very private, quiet boy, who said as little as he could get away with. sometimes when you said “hello” you felt as though you’d bothered him, he always seemed to have a sad look in his eyes, even when he was laughing his hardest.

you never really took much time to consider finding harry attractive, until you overheard two gryffindor girls oggling over his photo in the daily prophet on the way to your lesson one morning. you revised the idea in your head, and admittedly agreed that his eyes were really gorgeous, and recalled the times you’d caught his cold eyes in class. most of the time it was because he was deep in thought, staring at the wall past you and you happened to be looking in his direction.

professor slughorn was in the middle of teaching potions. you weren’t completely invested in the lesson because you couldn’t concentrate. your mind kept distractingly returning to the idea that harry’s eyes were infact really pretty. you turned discreetly to your right and saw him sat there. to your startled dismay his blue eyes were staring right at you. you weren’t good at things like this and sat there stiffening, knuckles turning white as you gripped the edges of your desk at your attempt to hide the fact that you’d been oggling at him like all of the other girls in your year.

when the lesson had come to an end, you heard harry’s soft voice call after you, because you’d been trying to hurry out amongst the rest of the bustling students to escape the embarrassment of the escapade at the beginning of the hour. as much as you’d wanted to, you couldn’t ignore him, you were supposed to be good friends, so you paused whilst teetering out of the arched doorway and turned on heel.

“hey harry.”

he seemed even more troubled than usual, and you immediately felt your stomach lurch. “slughorn’s loving you these days, isn’t he?” you continued whilst the conversation remained in the archway of the classroom even as the other students dispersed back to their common rooms.

harry nodded before slowly presenting you with his potions book. you were confused until he opened it to the blank page prefacing the table of contents.

this book is property of the half-blood prince.

“i’m not quite sure what this means.” you followed dryly, screwing your eyebrows together at the peculiar text, it seemed to have been inked in by a student.

harry hadn’t talked much yet aside from calling your name. his thin lips pressed into a frown and he shook his head too, “me neither. this book is the reason i’ve been coming out on top of the class”, your eyes found his whilst he spoke, “hermione would tell me to hand it over to slughorn, and ron might get jealous, so i thought i would show you. you’re easy-going.” your lips curled up at the compliment he had just paid you. for the first time, he’d confided in you before either of his best friends, and it gave you butterflies for some reason.

—

ever since your conversation with harry after potions, you two had been meeting regularly in the library. you had asked harry if you could copy the notes from the strange book into your own for academic purposes, and unbeknownst to you harry had agreed because he found your company oddly comforting.

this particular evening was unlike any other until harry broke the silence in a way that was strikingly unfamiliar to you. he started venting.

“being the chosen one isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” he sighed with comedic, adolescent frustration and pressed his cheek against a stack of books on the desk. he was watching your quill scribble away and fought back the urge to yawn. he was grumpy a lot of the time, he’d become a very temperamental boy in the recent stages of his teen-hood - it made you giggle. you put your quill down, and entertained his complaint by asking him “why?”.

he rolled his eyes and pointed at two fourth year girls sat in the corner of the library, “i haven’t gone a day this year without some girl coming up to flirt with me,” he consciously tugged the hood of his jumper closer around his neck, ”i think i preferred it when everybody hated me last year, to be honest.” you managed a laugh and put your hand on the boy’s shoulder, squeezing it slightly.

“i can picture your frustration. i don’t blame them though.” you immediately bit your tongue, you hadn’t meant to insinuate anything, but luckily harry thought nothing of what you’d said and shrugged, still visibly annoyed. it was also uncommon for you and harry to engage in any skinship whatsoever and, realising this, you quickly withdrew your hand from his shoulder, pretending to tuck a tuft of hair back behind your ear.

by the time you and harry were ready to leave for bed that night, you’d long been finished taking notes, but you enjoyed small talk with harry beside the candlelight, and he enjoyed it too. by habit of his escapist nature, he’d been enjoying your company more than anyone else’s for the past two or three weeks because there was nothing complicated to your friendship, and he never gave you any indication of struggling so you never asked. harry liked that. he had a feeling that you probably knew he had his personal impediments being “the chosen one”, but you accepted them blindly with a kind smile, and treated him indifferently. it was all very convenient and comfortable. he was also starting to consider the idea that you had very nice eyes too.

—

and the school year continued just like that. you and harry grew closer than ever; you revelled in eachother’s company; you spent your evenings together in the library; you spent your mornings together in the great hall revising. most crucially, you were best friends denying the presence of anything more because you were both too shy. harry also didn’t want to risk overcomplicating one of the few relationships in his life that took his mind off voldemort.

in his time away from you throughout the year, he continued to carry out dumbledore’s endeavours and courted slughorn into revealing his vices. in the month leading up to this, harry had been distancing himself from you. although he thought it better to keep you at arm’s length from his business with dumbledore, he hadn’t been intentionally trying to avoid you, he was just so very busy. he felt guilty nonetheless.

you took harry’s absence on the chin, you knew he dealt with a lot of things, things he didn’t disclose in casual conversations with you because that would spoil the light-heartedness of the time you spent together. you took it as an opportunity to resume the studies you’d fallen behind on, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit… lonely. you hadn’t been on your own like this since harry had called for you after that one potions lesson.

reminiscently, you opened your potions book on the notes you had taken when you were with harry, and smiled fondly. but then your heart sank. it wasn’t abnormal to miss your friends, but what you felt was beyond yearning, you just kept it hidden from harry and the other students, not that harry had the time to notice these days. at most, he managed a quick “hello” as he passed in and out of the common room, until one morning he had disappeared altogether.

you attended breakfast alone. you attended your first class of the day alone. you felt so miffed that you decided not to attend your defence against the dark art’s class, in fact you were truant for the rest of the school day. the fact that you hadn’t seen harry at all today worried you immensely, even when he was busy he was always loitering somewhere about the grounds. yesterday he’d returned from hagrid’s fairly late, you guessed that maybe he was tired and sleeping it off, but a dark hunch that you had implied otherwise.

that night, your intuition summoned you to the astronomy tower, one of few places you visited for undisrupted pondering. your chest felt clogged with an indescribable feeling, it felt almost like a sixth sense, or something similar to unease. the sky foreshadowed a storm, you felt it in the humid air too. usually you would feel lost without harry, but for some reason the fear inspired an unusual confidence in you, and you balled your hands into two determined fists as you stared out over the grounds. it all felt nostalgic, the sweep of grey trees in the distance reminded you of the life that had inhabited the school when you were a little girl. you couldn’t decide why you were crying exactly. maybe you missed harry. maybe you just hated being alone. you soaked it up with the sleeve of your school jumper and turned to leave, and you would have done if not for the indistinct sound of footsteps.

you took off down the stairs and uttered a soft “lumos” to your wand, illuminating a pair of blue eyes, but they weren’t harry’s. your eyes winced at the mop of silver-blonde hair infront of you. the male you recognised easily as malfoy pinned you suddenly to the wall with his forearm and despite looking fairly scrawny, his forearm was bigger than you anticipated - you couldn’t move.

“what are you doing up here”, he asked bluntly, yet whispered at the same time. malfoy’s clothes carried a smell that you likened to an old cupboard, or dusty furniture. he was someone that you knew to be unpleasant, due to harry’s recollection of their quarrellings, but you had exchanged few words with him during your time at school. you weren’t aware of harry’s extra-curricular activities, and even less aware of harry’s speculations about malfoy. your expressionless face mocked draco’s attempt to scare you, you raised a cocky eyebrow and retorted, repeating the same question he had asked you.

“it’s none of your business.” his voice quivered briefly, you recognised this as fear, but ignored it when you heard the sound of someone apparating into the castle, soon followed by the sound of harry’s voice. draco’s head turned almost as quickly as yours. his plans had not accommodated harry. it was hard to say who was more staggered by this. the inches between you and draco were quickly severed when the blonde boy pulled out his wand and took up the stairs. you immediately thought it best to stay hidden beneath the floorboards, you didn’t think harry would take kindly to finding out that you were there, even though it was highly unintentional, he liked to keep you separate from his dealings. plus, it was late. malfoy was joined by a few unrecognisable characters dressed anonymously in black, and snape. breath hitched, you crouched behind one of the pillars and eavesdropped on the conversation happening above you, and it didn’t take you long to understand that it wasn’t going to be a friendly encounter, however it sounded unlike any of the altercations harry had previously described to you. you knew malfoy to be a snobby, sneering sod, but you hadn’t thought of him as an accomplice until you heard snape strain “avada kedavra” discernibly above the conflict.

you clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle a staggered, gagging cry. you felt as though you couldn’t breathe. you supposed this is what grief felt like, but it had all happened so quickly, you’d hardly processed the events you’d just heard before you felt it curdle with rage in your gut. harry was long gone, judging by his outburst you assumed he was chasing after snape. before he fled after the teacher, harry’s tone had become unrecognisably cruel, a tone that had never occurred to you in all the years you’d known the bright boy. it made you shiver.

you could still hear malfoy’s discordant sobs on top of the tower, so you confronted him quickly, casting bereaved spells at him with your wand. if harry knew you were involving yourself…

it didn’t matter.

“STUPEFY!”

he looked reluctant to engage in this duel with you, but that didn’t stop him from disarming you. your wand flew from your hand and you inelegantly dived after it. malfoy dived after your wand, simultaneously, and as you both landed on the floor with a thud, you raised your palm to his pale cheek and slapped him. it was so harsh that you felt your palm stinging too, but the pain didn’t phase you as you wrestled your wand from the slytherin boy’s puny hand. flecks of spit from draco’s mouth landed on your face because he was gritting his teeth so angrily, he portrayed a level of fury you thought was impossible for a 16 year old boy to feel. he stopped resisting you, there was something heartbreakingly defeated about the cowardly slytherin. you led slumped against a pillar opposite him, panting in a deathly silence.

—

harry couldn’t hear anything, besides the sound of blood gushing in his ears and a slight pulse. he recalled how snape’s cloak had coiled back and swept over harry’s exhausted body before the gaunt-looking man accompanied a cloaked woman into the dark forest.

coward.

he knelt honourably beside dumbledore’s lifeless body, caressing the man’s silver beard with his fingertips. it was inconsolable, his pain. harry only knew loss. everybody that he held close seemed to die and slowly the amount of people that he could trust seemed to be growing smaller, and smaller. with every loss, he felt a small part of the excited 11 year old boy he once was die too. he was too young to feel this way, it was excruciating, but even though he felt this way, he remained nonchalant and concealed what few tears fell down his cheeks.

you stood with the rest of the grieving students, but you felt scared stepping forward to comfort harry, it had been a good few weeks since you had felt close to the boy. he had his back to the crowd, it confirmed the trauma you had only guessed at for years every time you looked into his shy, blue eyes across the classroom. your heart ached.

you waded quietly past the others students as they held their illuminated wands to the sky above and lowered to your knees beside harry, his eyes didn’t meet yours. all magic aside, your held your friends’ hand with a human understanding of his agony and set your wand aside, squeezing his hand weakly with what strength you had left. he was never very open about his trauma, but he didn’t need to be at that moment, you collected his soft, soft sobs in your shoulder as you pulled him in against your chest and held him. you could feel how badly he was hurting. you wished you could take it all away.

and you stayed there holding him late into the night, long after the other students had cleared and returned to their dormitories. professor mcgonagall stayed with dumbledore too.

—

two weeks had passed since dumbledore’s passing. your friendship with harry wasn’t quite the same. it was common knowledge that you had been there on the astronomy tower, you’d also told him about your brawl with malfoy. you didn’t talk about much else after airing that, harry was reluctant to talk about what had happened, mostly because it was too painful, but also because then he would have no choice but to accept the events as factual. that also meant accepting that hogwarts would never be the same, accepting that everything had irreversibly changed.

conversations were duller than ever. harry had become even more temperamental. you often heard him lashing out late at night, when he was alone in his dormitory, or heard his footsteps on the cold floor in the common room when he went to sit by the fire to relieve himself of a nightmare or a terror. you recognised them as harry’s footsteps because you too stayed awake all night, and noticed that you never heard his footsteps returning to bed, and often found him sat there the next morning staring bitterly into the fire wearing the same damp pyjamas that he had soaked that night.

one memorable night, you were pulled aside before bed by hermione granger. you knew she was one of harry’s best friends, though you’d never spoken to her. you hadn’t anything against her, and you hoped the feeling was mutual, even greater than that you hoped she didn’t sense you as a threat to her long-lasting friendship with him. you weren’t like that.

you pulled your dressing gown robe around your body and tied it at the front as she began to murmur, “i’m sure you know harry’s in an awful way.” you nodded silently. “he’s never been keen on relying on people, you know. the whole time i’ve known him i’ve never seen him ask somebody for help. except maybe dumbledore…” she trailed off cautiously, even she treated dumbledore as a delicate topic of conversation since he had passed away.

she pulled her curls back into a ponytail and frowned. “but i also don’t think he would be so against relying on you.” you couldn’t help but feel as though hermione was suggesting you hadn’t been there for harry as much as you could have been. perhaps you’d neglected him through fear of seeming like you were prying when all he really needed was for you to try and persist. get through to him. you also guessed at the very obvious hint hermione had dropped that sounded as though both you and harry had feelings for the other that were unspoken for. you thanked hermione sincerely, and rushed down to the common room in your nightwear. you didn’t have any socks on, the stone castle floor was freezing.

you knew harry would be down soon, he came and sat by the fire every night without fail. you sat there too, melting into the sofa, hoping it would eat you alive because the anxiety was gnawing away at you. what if harry snapped at you? told you you were being troublesome or bothering him? when you saw his face descend down from the stairs to the boy’s dormitories, you regretted your instinct to come downstairs entirely. harry didn’t look bothered yet though.

he sat beside you quietly and sighed, pulling the collar of his pyjamas shirt away from his neck. it was damp from where he had been sweating already. without much thought, you stopped his trembling hand from tugging at the fabric and held yours clasped over his before opening your mouth, “i’m sorry, harry.”

he didn’t say anything. he looked like someone who’d heard sorry too many times in the past two weeks.

“we used to have fun together…” you started, unsure of where you were actually going with this. “i’m not here to pity you, like most of the others. i do understand, you know. not quite as fully as you, i haven’t been through nearly as much, but when i see you crying, harry, i…”

you brought his hand down from his neck and held it firmly in your lap, “i can’t watch you in pain and-“ you breathed and reticent as you were said very plainly, “i don’t mean that as a friend either, harry.”

you met harry’s blue eyes. they seemed surprised, although you weren’t sure why. he was brilliant, you wish he saw that. not brilliant because he was “the chosen one”, or because he was somewhat of a celebrity, but because of how brave and exceedingly kind he was.

“i don’t understand, y/n.”

“yes, you do.”

harry knew he’d understood you as well. but he hadn’t expected your friendship to take so much of a dark turn so quickly, he wanted to keep you away from that. and he didn’t like you seeing the vulnerable side of him either, despite however pleasantly intimate it was to have you comfort him. maybe this was enough, though. maybe this was close enough.

you were sat inches from eachother on the sofa before the fire. but you were close enough that he could smell your perfume. it made him smile. it wasn’t a big smile at all, unlike the huge grins that practically stretched to his ears when he was a little boy. but it was a smile nevertheless. he also decided against fighting the urge to smile because your determination made you that much prettier.

eyes straying, harry made a confession of his own, “do you know what i could smell when slughorn took the lid off of the amortentia in potions?”

“what?”

“something a bit like honeysuckle”, he paused, smiling into the fire, “i didn’t recognise it until you held me two weeks ago. i’d never gotten close enough to notice that you smell like that.”

your mouth fell open slightly but conscious that you were catching flies, you quickly shut it and smile too. this conversation suddenly felt nice, unlike the tension that had been brewing between you previously. you felt warm again, just like you had done when you shared your evenings together in the library.

“i’ve liked you for a long time, harry, but i didn’t want you to think i was taking advantage of you.”

“why would i think that?” suddenly his bushy, black eyebrows were knotted together above his nose.

“all that talk of you being “the chosen one”, i didn’t want you to think that’s the only reason i took any interest. especially when you despised other girls for that very reason.”

he scoffed, you were right, those girls had been awfully annoying. he turned his head slightly, commanding a shy pink colour to creep into your cheeks. even when you and harry had been at your closest, you became bashful when he held eye contact with you, it felt very intense. without giving any thought to his actions, he cupped your face with one hand and brought you in for a kiss.

it was a very slow kiss, his thin lips slotted in gently against yours. you’d never contemplated what harry was like as a kisser but he exceeded all of the expectations. it was a nice feeling. warm. your pining hands reached for his pyjama shirt and tugged longingly at the fabric, not in a suggestive manner but as a means of saying that you had waited so long to feel harry surrender like this. it didn’t last for very long, he pulled away with a sigh and pressed his forehead to yours, glasses falling further down the slope of his nose. harry felt like a normal teenage boy and for a moment failed to remember that he was really a wizard and his life was really about to change for the worst now that dumbledore was gone and voldemort was back. you were still forehead-to-forehead, breathing florally against his mouth when he realised that soon he would have to confront his new reality.

for now, harry wanted to remain ignorant for a while longer.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Love in Secret

---

---

Rating:General Audiences

Warning: Fluff, mini sibling feud, slight smut suggestion

Category:F/M

Fandom:Seventeen (SVT) (boyband)

Relationships: !brother's best friend Dk x !f reader, with !brother woozi

Summary: secret love, family feuds is it really wroth it for what could be the happiest moments with the person you love

Trope : brother's best friend

---

Hiiiii everyone who is reading! Welcome to the tenth installment of my new mini series called "Oi! Not this again!" They do not have to be read together or in order! I hope you all enjoy!

I had known Seokmin for almost all my life. He was my brother, Jihoon’s, best friend. The charming, always smiling, bundle of sunshine that seemed to brighten every room he walked into. Growing up, Seokmin was practically family, always around and participating in every little adventure Jihoon and I used to dream up.

It wasn’t until recently that I started seeing him differently. Before, he was just Seokmin – the boy who helped me with my math homework and saved me from spiders. Now, he was Seokmin – the guy who made my heart race whenever he smiled at me.

My relationship with Seokmin, of course, remained a secret. Well, semi-secret because he had told Jihoon about his feelings for me early on. Unfortunately, Jihoon made it clear then that dating me was off-limits. So, here we were, sneaking around like guilty teenagers even though we were all legally adults.

It all began on a cool autumn night. Our small group of friends had decided to have a movie night at our house. Jihoon insisted on one of his favorite horror movies, which I loathed. I found myself sandwiched between Jihoon and Seokmin on the couch. About thirty minutes into the movie, I couldn't take it anymore and buried my face into the cushions.

"Scared already?" Seokmin whispered, his warm breath tickling my ear. I could feel my cheeks turning pink as I glanced up at him. He had this knowing look in his eyes, and a soft smile playing on his lips.

"Just tired," I lied, glancing sideways to ensure my brother hadn't noticed. Jihoon was too engrossed in the movie, oblivious to the silent exchange between us.

The night passed with stolen glances and moments where our hands would brush against each other, sending tiny jolts of excitement through me. As the night ended and everyone dispersed, Seokmin lingered a little longer under the pretense of helping me clean up. Once alone, he leaned down, and our lips met in a gentle, secret kiss.

“Goodnight, y/n,” he whispered softly before leaving, and I couldn't help but smile, already eager for our next stolen moment.

The next few weeks felt like a whirlwind. Between secret meetings and shared confessions, my feelings for Seokmin grew deeper. Every encounter was electric, filled with the thrill of secrecy and the fluttering of young love.

It was one such meeting, in the safety of my bedroom – Jihoon was out with friends – when things took a turn. We were sitting on my bed, Seokmin’s arm wrapped around me as we talked about everything and nothing all at once. Suddenly, the door burst open, and there stood Jihoon. The look of betrayal on his face was unmistakable.

“What is this?” Jihoon demanded, eyes darting between me and Seokmin.

“Jihoon, calm down,” Seokmin started, standing up to face his best friend.

“Calm down?!” he shouted. “Seokmin, you promised me. Y/N, how could you? You knew I didn’t want this.”

I stood up, squeezing Seokmin’s hand for strength. “Ji-Wo-Woozi oppa, we love each other. We didn’t mean to hurt you, but you have to understand…”

His voice was laced with anger and hurt, “Understand what? That my best friend and my sister are sneaking around behind my back?”

Seokmin tried to calm him, “Woozi, listen, I love your sister. I really do. I would never hurt her, you know that.”

Jihoon shook his head, still visibly upset. “I need time to process this. I can’t believe you two would go behind my back like this.”

As days turned into weeks, Jihoon stayed distant, creating a palpable tension whenever we were all together. I missed my brother’s laugh, his teasing, and most of all, his approval. It stung seeing the strained look on his face whenever he looked at Seokmin or me.

One evening, I found Jihoon in the kitchen, eating his feelings with a pint of ice cream. Taking a deep breath, I walked towards him, hoping to finally bridge the growing chasm between us.

“Oppa, can we talk?” I asked softly.

He glanced at me, his eyes softening for a fraction before he sighed, “What is there to talk about?”

“I’m sorry for hiding it from you. We should have been honest from the start, but we were scared of how you’d react,” I admitted, sitting down across from him.

“I get it,” he finally said after a pause. “It’s just... Seokmin’s like my brother too. I was scared of what would happen if things didn’t work out between you two.”

I nodded, understanding his concerns. “Jihoon, we’re serious about each other. I can’t promise you that we’ll be together forever, but I can promise you that we’ll try our hardest. All I want is your support, your blessing.”

He was quiet for what felt like an eternity before finally saying, “Fine. But if he ever hurts you, he’ll have me to answer to.”

I beamed at him, throwing my arms around him in a tight hug. “Thank you, Woozi. That’s all I needed.”

That night, as I recounted the conversation to Seokmin, his eyes shone with relief and happiness. He pulled me into a warm embrace, whispering against my forehead, “We did it.”

From that day on, things started to fall into place. Jihoon slowly warmed up to the idea of us, and the tension melted away, replaced by the familiar camaraderie we’d always known. Our relationship was no longer a secret, and it felt liberating to love unapologetically in the open.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

‐Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-Gabi✨️🎀

[dogbunni]

@crawling-crawly speak, and u will be fed.

[a thousand dandelion fluffs gather and then disperse to reveal several hand crafted nensai headcanons] [they're gourmet and delicious]

-saiki and nendo are that one couple that never tells anyone they're together. they just expect (for very different reasons) everyone else to figure it out. it takes a very long time for anyone else to figure it out.

-saiki is not a fan of pda. nendo is the biggest fan of pda, but saiki has fought him down to just the ever present arm slung over his shoulder. nendo thinks this is peak romance anyway, so

-love wins

-youd think nendo would be the weird one in the relationship, what with saiki and his Normal Guy kin. you'd be wrong. sometimes nendo shows up at saiki's house and finds him speed reading an entire library of books about the history of oboes, just for fun, and he's like, what the fuck, kusuo

-seriously if nendo is able to pick up on your weirdness you are beyond help

-saikis favourite pastime is grabbing nendo's chin in one hand and squishing it to make the butt shape more pronounced. he thinks it's so fucking funny. but he keeps a straight face so he's just like :| while squishing nendo's chin together and nendo's like :| when will it end

-they nap together a lot

-their shared love of food is the focus of pretty much all of their dates

-nendo knows saiki dislikes "speaking", and actively encourages him to communicate in ways he finds comfortable. saiki rarely speaks in nendo's company

-nendo learns sign language to support his bf. he does this in secret and then once he can sign enough to hold a basic conversation he "surprises" saiki with his new skill. I say "surprises" bc it turns out that sign language is not something that saiki's brain automatically translates so he has no idea what is going on.

-its very easy for saiki to learn though, and he mentally slaps himself for not thinking of it sooner

-what I'm saying is, nendo and saiki communicate primarily in JSL

-nendo buys cute little plushies for saiki and then makes saiki hold it up while he takes pictures of him. his lockscreen changes weekly and it's a picture of saiki holding a different plushie every time.

-saiki and mrs nendo get along very well. she's almost a normal parent and saiki loves that

-nendo gets along well with kurumi. they cook together. 'nough said

-nendo does not believe in kuniharu rights

-sometimes saiki gets nendo to just lay directly on top of him. human weighted blanket

-nendo has seen saiki have multiple breakdowns about not being normal and wanting his powers to go away. nendo says the most profound and heartfelt things every time and sits next to his partner until saiki is ready for a hug <3

-this all being said nendo gets on saiki's last mf nerve. when he mooned the entire airport. saiki wanted to kill him.

-nendo thinks saiki should be silly more. he lives for saiki's silly moments. like one time they spent ages stacking empty coffee jelly pots on nendo's head, and saiki laughed, causing all 27 jelly pots to fall catastrophically. it's one of nendo's core memories

-saiki looks at nendo and thinks hnfnnfnhhn big

-nendo looks at saiki and thinks ngnhngnmgnghhh cute

-nendo always got a hand in saiki's hair. its so soft

-theyve never said I love you aloud but they DO sign it

-they absolutely talk shit about their friends in JSL

-saiki will (whilst heaving a sigh) drop everything to help nendo with his homework

-when people find out that they're together, most will ask saiki what he sees in nendo. but saiki thinks the question should be the other way around. nendo is so attentive and loving, so free with his affection, kind, caring, confident, funny, and always willing to go the extra mile just to make saiki's life a little better. on the other hand, saiki is a miserable tsundere who is so easily irritated and hates showing affection, and saiki wholeheartedly believes that he does not deserve him.

-nendo thinks he's just the luckiest guy in the world. saiki could have anybody and he chose him??? every day is a blessing.

-theyre very wrapped up in each other. it takes a while for the others to realise, but once they do they can't un-notice how they're always together, stuck to each others sides like glue

[amitieos]

"A moment of your time!" Emcee catches up to you before you can disperse to your room or rejoin with your teammates, or wherever else it is you're heading off to.

"This way, this way." The strange host ushers you into a small shack, curtained off from the outside. They offer you a chair and a bright lamp hangs overhead.

"Now then," they start, positioning themselves across from you. "How do you feel about being eliminated this week? What do you want to tell your remaining teammates?"

In their hand is a voice amplifying stick, which they hold out to you now.

"Oh, of course. Whatever can I help you with?" Elincia responds, following the Emcee into the shack. She half expects to be tasked with clearing up or mending torn clothes. Or perhaps preparing a meal for the staff behind the scenes. An interview hadn't even crosssed her mind. "It's a little disappointing. Mostly I feel as though I let Thrasir down being over cautious. She was a fantastic partner but we ran out of time but at least neither of us were injured. That's a blessing at least."

"Regardless, I've had a lot of fun! I feel I've gotten closer to some of my colleagues and students here too, so I'm very grateful to you," she hums for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts. What would she want to tell her teammates? Furthermore, how to be both gracious in defeat and rally her allies with her parting message. "I'd like to encourage my teammates to keep trying their best but to remember that the real prize is the friendships forged and lifelong memories we'll take away from here."

"Oh and to all Black Eagle students, regardless of their loyalties at Happyland... if The Weasels win, I won't set homework for six months. That's a promise." Elincia flashes a cheeky wink at the Emcee before bowing, hopeful her last comment will reach all her students and not just those on Team Weasel.

[dr-lizortecho]

Missing High School “Malex” Scene (Michael&Max) read on ao3

The parking lot is chaotic as the student body filters out. Most of the teens are more than ready to exit the confines of the brick building on a Friday afternoon. Leaving only the jocks, nerds and a few stranglers.

But Michael’s already situated in his truck bed- watching as the other kids mingle before dispersing to their vehicles. A few were waiting on the sidewalks for their rides. He had kept his record of convincing Max skipping seventh period didn’t actually count, especially because Mrs. Topolsky didn’t care about attendance.

Michael takes another bite of the extra turkey sandwich from Max’s lunchbox. The one Anne Evans had been making him for years, to help him grow even taller according to Isobel. As if the dork wasn’t already six feet and counting. His long gangly legs are currently draped up onto the back flap of the truck bed as he scribbles into the accursed notebook he carries with him everywhere.

“You’re mom really knows how to make a turkey sandwich,” Michael manages around a mouth full. Except it comes out chockfull of vowels and with garbled consonants.

Max chuckles as he stops writing, giving Michael a look. “Well she thinks I eat three of ‘em a day,” he says simply. “And I don’t have the heart to tell her.”

Michael hums, eyes locking onto the dark figure walking out in step with Maria DeLuca. They’re both smiling and laughing, Maria’s shoulders swaying into the taller teens. They look happy, like each other's presence completes them. It makes something uncomfortable flip in Michael’s stomach, a soft churning he doesn’t like.

He swallows thickly. “What do you know about the youngest Manes kid?”

This makes Max furrow his brows, before he’s turning back around to see where Michael’s looking. Creating a spectacle of himself.

Michael kicks at his thigh. “Don’t look like you’re looking.” It comes out all but a whine.

Max laughs, eyes scrunching up at the corners. “What? Like he’s looking at us.”

Which shouldn’t make Michael’s stomach twist into a knot- but it does.

“Just-“ Michael makes a face at his brother “-tell me about him.”

Max shrugs. “Well, he’s in our class. Best friends with Maria and Liz.”

Michael snorts. “Of course you know about him in relation to the milkshake girl.”

“Hey!” Max whines, his face drawn into an almost adorable pout. If he looked a little more pathetic about it Michael might even pity his decade long one sided crush.

“Is he seeing anyone?” It was a stupid question- one that has Max leveling him with an incredulous look.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Max says easily. “Just the rumors that have Liz accidentally spilling milkshakes onto Jordan’s homework.”

“About him being gay?” Michael asks. Taking another big bite of his sandwich.

Max nods solemnly. “I never thought I’d see Liz Ortecho purposefully make a mess of her father’s diner. But for silencing bigotry she’s more than willing.” Max’s face drifts from wistful to delighted, the corners of his mouth curved up into a soft smile.

Michael wants to laugh at him, but he’s distracted by watching Alex ramble excitedly about something. He looks strange to Michael. Like a mystery wrapped up in black and leather and silver jewelry. Something he could spend as much time trying to decode as the glimmering glass in his glove box.

“So that’s all you got?” Michael asks without ripping his eyes away from Alex.

“That and he’s- well was in band,” Max says simply. “He ended up quitting after the rumors started- mostly keeps to himself. Really liked music and in elementary school he was really into Naked Mole-Rats… like really into them.”

Michael snorts. “Those soft pink things?”

“Something about them having a high pain tolerance and nothing to hide.” Max shrugs.

Michael frowns, watching as Alex and Maria get into Mimi DeLuca’s truck. Mind already churning through the scraps of information Max had given him, knowing just what it was like to become too enamored with the concept of not being hurt, of being seen.

“Anyways,” Max grabs his second lunch bag and slides it toward Michael. “My mom will kill me if I bring that home.”

Michael eyes it wearily before giving Max a suspicious look. He didn’t like the idea of Max shoveling food off onto him.

“What?” Max laughs. “If I bring it home mom will interrogate me till she figures me and Iz went to the Crash Down.”

“Let me guess-“ Michael smirks “-Liz works tonight.”

Max glares at him. “She works every Friday.”

“So you’re gonna die of red meat and grease for the sake of love,” Michael teases.

Which has Max glaring at him as he jumps down off the truckbed. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Michael says. Already half having it in his mind to go back into the school and find the library, just to read up on a hairless mammal while Max made moon eyes at his hopeless crush.

[hunbunbunnie]

Discipline

If you're just here for piss go to the paragraph that starts with a * lol Being an honors student took a certain level of discipline. 

Not an unfamiliar level, though. Mia had been disciplined all her life. 

At the age of 7 she was reading at a 9th Grade level, in both English and Spanish, and was often disinterested in class because it was “boring”. 

So, after an in-depth evaluation and testing process, she was bumped up a couple of grades. She’d been warned that the work would be harder and take a lot of discipline, but she hadn’t been worried then, either. Mia practiced discipline at home all the time while taking care of her siblings as her parents worked. She practiced it when helping with dinner while all the other kids got to go play outside. She practiced it while helping her father read important documents that were only printed in English. 

So yeah, 4th Grade math was a breeze. 

She continued blazing through school until she finally, finally reached her final year. This had been what she was waiting for. With her grades, she could get into any college she wanted, and most likely with a full-ride scholarship as well. She’d be the first in her family to get her college degree. She would become a successful architect and make enough to support her family with plenty to spare. Her parents would be able to rest, and maybe she could save up enough to help pay for her siblings to go to college as well. She knew it would take a lot of grit. A lot of determination. A lot of discipline, but she was prepared. 

Now Mia sat at her desk, currently in the middle of her junior year of university. Her GPA was a 4.0, of course, and she planned for it to stay that way. That was why she’d been studying for the past four hours without pause. Architecture was a serious major. 

Mia’s eyes scanned the words of her textbook, her hand regurgitating the information into her notes almost automatically. However, there was a hint of strain to her expression. Her brow was slightly furrowed. She read back over the paragraph she’d just finished, struggling to actually absorb the information.  *What was going on? She wasn’t that tired, was she? She usually could go for about another hour or so before she took another break. She’d just eaten, so she knew she wasn’t hungry, and the empty bottle of water on her desk dispersed any worry of dehydration. So why was she struggling to focus? 

Mia shifted in her seat and her expression softened. Oh. She just needed to pee. That was fine. Relaxing a bit now, she loosely crossed her legs underneath the desk and continued reading, the urge momentarily quelled. 

She’d zone back in on her work, becoming lost in the descriptions of gothic and victorian architecture. Mia continued studying, essentially dead to the world, for 45 more minutes. It wasn’t until her leg fell asleep and she moved to accommodate it that she recalled her bladder. It gave a dull and heavy pulse, causing her brow to furrow once more. She felt pretty full…but she was getting close to the end of this unit. She then needed to answer the guided study questions, and if she interrupted her work flow (oof, “flow”), then who knew if she’d be able to get back into it? 

Mia glanced at her alarm clock, seeing that it was 10 pm. She was already cutting it close on time. She’d have to wake up early the next morning for class. She couldn’t afford to slow down if she was going to get this homework done before bed. She would just have to show a bit of discipline and ignore her need. 

She recrossed her legs and got back to work, feeling an unhappy pang from her abdomen. Her thighs squeezed together a bit in retaliation, but aside from that, her bladder was once again forgotten. Mia drank quite a lot of caffeine throughout the day, as she always did, along with her once full bottle of water. All of the liquid was gathering in her core, beginning to push and stretch her bladder’s walls. Another wave of discomfort hit Mia and she shifted in place. 

Time passed, the only noise permeating Mia’s quiet room being her pen scratching against paper and the occasional flip of a page. Oh, and the creak of her chair as she moved around. The nagging urge to empty herself was driving Mia to shift almost rhythmically, her hips rocking back and forth. If she wasn’t alone it would just look like she was restless or maybe subtly dancing to the music playing through her earbuds. It didn’t become obvious that she needed to pee until her free hand began creeping between her thighs. 

Mia caught herself, her face reddening as she snatched her hand back above the desk. God, what was she doing? She wasn’t a child. She could wait to use the bathroom without resulting to grabbing at herself. 

Sighing, she decided to readjust her sitting position, bringing a leg underneath her and sitting on her heel. Every small movement made her need spike but she got her foot in place without issue. It applied pressure to all the right places and gave her the bit of relief she needed to focus again. Mia continued writing, ignoring the slightly more frantic requests to empty from her bladder. She began chewing at the inside of her cheek but refused to stop. She could wait. Discipline. 

She turned the page and barely stifled a groan. Of course the next chapter was over bridges, which meant Mia got to stare at beautifully photographed rivers and lakes for the remainder of the night. Just the first image of the Golden Gate Bridge made her tense a bit, watching the water beneath it crash against the rocks in a foamy spray. The visible waves of the ocean was exactly what her bladder felt like. Sloshing, heavy and forceful, bearing down on her exit. Her hips began to move again. 

After a bit of time, Mia noticed she was beginning to have a bit of trouble writing. Her penmanship was getting messier and she found herself stopping to scribble out mistakes more and more often. Another bridge was depicted on the next page of her book, this one being the Rialto Bridge in Venice, and she actually let out a quiet hiss of discomfort at the sight of the canal it arched over. Canals were not a pleasant thought at the moment. So much liquid constricted to narrow waterways, the sound of splashing and flowing water no doubt filling the area. 

A wave of desperation overcame her and before Mia knew it her hand had dived back between her thighs. She didn’t pull it away this time, repositioning once more to cross her legs around it. She really needed to go. 

Fully squirming now, Mia let out a slightly shaky breath and resigned herself to taking a study break. She moved to get out of her chair…before promptly sitting right back down, trembling. 

Her eyes were wide and she felt an uncanny heat and dampness pressing against her hand. She’d leaked. 

Mia couldn’t move. 

“Ooh…” Mia quietly whined a bit, now frantically bouncing in her seat. She had no idea it was this bad! It wasn’t until gravity caused her to feel the full weight of the ocean inside of her that she realized how badly she’d messed up. There was no way she could stand and hobble to the bathroom. She wouldn’t make it. 

Another wave of urgency wracked her insides and she quietly whimpered, her other hand joining the first one between her legs. Eyes filled with tears, she began to frantically look around her room for anything that could possibly help her. Of course, she saw nothing. Hardly anything aside from a very convenient toilet could possibly fix her situation. 

Mia’s thighs were rubbing together now, her face burning with shame. She was squirming around like a little kid- hell, she wet herself a little. Although there was no one around to witness her predicament she had never felt more embarrassed. 

She glanced around the space one more time, pleading for anything she could use. This time, her eyes fell on her empty water bottle. Maybe…maybe she could use that…? Her bladder lurched, causing her to double over in her seat for a moment. 

When the excruciating urgency faded, Mia looked back up at the bottle. Was she really that desperate? Desperate enough to squat over a bottle just because she couldn’t hold it all the way to the toilet? 

…no. No, she wasn’t. She could hold it. She could stand. She could make it to the bathroom. She had the discipline for it. 

Whimpering quietly, Mia slowly rose to her feet. Her thighs trembled as they squeezed together, desperately trying to apply added pressure to her opening. All the piss in her bladder was weighing down on her strained muscles, aching to be let free. It was a slow and arduous trek all the way to the front door. She’d shuffle a few inches before stopping to whine and bounce on the balls of her feet, legs almost double crossing. What should have taken a few seconds took minutes. 

By the time she made it to the door Mia was trembling all over, her face red and breathing heavy. She didn’t even know if she could take away a hand to grasp the doorknob. 

While she was working up the courage to move once more, a thought occurred. Not just any thought, but a horribly tempting one. 

Mia was alone in her room. No one could see her. She needed to wash her clothes soon, anyway.

What if she just…let go? 

She tried to push away the notion but it had already taken root. She imagined the lack of weight in her abdomen. The ability to stand upright again. The relief of letting the boiling ball of liquid inside of her burst open. 

Mia whimpered once more as another leak escaped her. Her forehead rested on the door as she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to hold on. She couldn’t just wet herself. She was supposed to piss in the toilet like a normal adult. She needed to get a hold of herself, to keep moving, to be disciplined!

Right then, a strange numbness took over her abdomen. Then, an odd warmth traveled down her legs. 

A shuddering sigh escaped Mia as her bladder gave out. All at once, the aching pressure that had been bearing down on her muscles began to fade. The relief was even better than she’d briefly imagined. Her eyes fluttered closed as she went limp, leaning against the door to stay upwards. The room was quiet aside from her panting and the sound of liquid hitting hardwood flooring. Mia stared at her slowly growing puddle, feeling…surprisingly alright. Although she’d wet herself, it felt so good…

Maybe discipline wasn’t always the answer. 

Meet Mia! She was a "gifted and talented" kid! Her family depends on her way too much! She has trouble saying no! She's one more inconvenience away from snapping!

Hope you enjoyed :)

[reasoningdaily]

The First Sign of the End Times

Daniel 7 describes this “abomination” and how to recognize it.

God told the prophet Daniel that when the end is near, many seemingly enigmatic verses will become clear. Probably because as the events prophesied are increasingly fulfilled, the more clear other signs will become.

As Daniel concluded his prophecy in chapter twelve, he asked God to let him in on the timing of the end-time events. God deflected his request in verse four: “But you, Daniel, close up and seal the words of the scroll until the time of the end…” (Notice that when the end is near everything will become more clear).

Daniel then asked the two angels standing nearby, “How long will it be before these astonishing things are fulfilled?” An angel replied in verse seven, “It will be for a time, times, and half a time. When the power of the holy people has been finally broken, all these things will be completed.”

The terms, "time, times and half a time" and the corresponding 3.5 years and 1260 days and 1290 days, are explained in the Book of Revelation. Daniel confessed in verse eight that he still did not understand so once again He asked the Lord, "My Lord, what will the outcome of all this be?"

God replied in verse nine, “Go your way, Daniel, because the words are closed up and sealed until the time of the end…. None of the wicked will understand, but those who are wise will understand."

So, rest assured that discerning spiritual men and women in the Body of Christ will be able to read the signs—and will be happy to share what they see with you. Notice I said, “spiritual men and women.” Jesus predicted that near the end of time many false individuals will confuse many (this, of course, is another sign in itself).

But, don’t stop by depending on the insights of others. Do your own homework. Be a biblical “self feeder” and check these things out for yourself.

So that you won't have to go searching to get started, I've listed below the basic prophetical books and passages in order to help make your study a little easier.

Signs and Events of the End Times Explained in Scripture: 

Psalms 2

The Psalm of the battle of Armageddon: Nations rage; God laughs; and the exaltation of Christ as Lord

The Book of Daniel

An over view of God's dealing with human governments

A time line of events from the days of Daniel, 598 B.C. to Palm Sunday, April 6, 30 A.D.

An overview of the last seven years before the Second Coming known as the Great Tribulation which begins with a peace treaty between Israel and a confederation of European states and ends with the Battle of Armageddon  and the return of Christ

Ezekiel 37

The prophecy of the return of Jews from all over the world to the land of Israel to reestablish the nation of Israel (the dispersion occurred in 70 A.D. and against all odds, the return took place in 1948 A.D.)

The battle between Gog, from the land of the north (Magog), that is directly north of Jerusalem (Russia??) and the nation of Israel. Gog, who is allied with a number of African nations is soundly defeated. The battle probably occurs before the time of Great Tribulation.

Zechariah 12:10-14

The Israelites weep and repent when they see the nail-scarred hands of Christ at the second coming.

Matthew 24

Known as the Olivet Discourse, Jesus answers the Disciples' questions about the end times and the future destruction of Israel.

1 Thessalonians 4:13-18

A description of the rapture when Jesus comes "for His saints" and takes them to Heaven.

The swiftness and stealth of the Second Coming is detailed.

2 Thessalonians 2:1-12

Beware of the coming Antichrist who is revealed when he sets up the Abomination of Desolation.

The Antichrist has deceptive tools to fool the world.

When "that which restrains" (either the Holy Spirit or the church) is removed from earth, the Lord's wrath is unleashed.

1 Peter 4:7-11

An outline of how to behave during the last days

2 Peter 2

A description of wicked men during the last days

The Second Coming time table is right on schedule. God is not delaying.

"The elements will be destroyed by fire."

Jude

A picture of the destruction of ungodly men and women at the Second Coming

The Book of Revelation

A three-fold picture of what man does to destroy mankind (7 Seals); what Satan does to man (7 Trumpets); and what God does to mankind (7 Bowls of Wrath)

A description of the person and ministry of the Antichrist.

The Battle of Armageddon

The Great White Throne Judgment

Tossing Satan into the Abyss of Hell

The millennium and the new Heaven and Earth

[natedogx15]

Miraculous Descendent Chapter 37: After Party

Previous Chapter

Marinette runs through the school doors to see various people back in the courtyard. The ones turned into Fashionista's entourage are resting on a bench with people surrounding them. When Marinette sees them, she immediately rushes to stand next to Nate.

"Are you guys okay? I saw the ladybugs roam the city after Cat Noir told me to hide somewhere safe." Marinette tells them.

"Yeah, I think we're okay. At least, I am." Nate tells her with a slightly tired smile before looking toward his fellow mind-control victims.

"I'm okay. Luckily it seems like I don't remember anything I did." Nino says with a grin.

"I wouldn't call that lucky. I'd prefer remembering what I do at all times." Sabrina tells him while holding her head.

"Well, I'm glad for it since it means we don't remember how the heroes beat us up." Alix winches slightly as she imagines Cat Noir or Ladybug punching her in the face.

"I'm sure the heroes wouldn't do that," Marinette tells her.

As the group is talking, Adrien runs through the front door. Nino sees him and raises an eyebrow at him.

"Dude, where did you go when the Akuma showed up? You just suddenly vanished." Nino tells him as Adrien tries to catch his breath.

"Sorry, my first instinct when I see a purple butterfly now is to run." Adrien apologizes and gives his false explanation.

"Well, a fair warning would have been nice. I'm less likely to get hit by whatever the Akuma does." Nino tells him in an uncharacteristically annoyed tone.

Adrien winches slightly at Nino's words before Nate interjects.

"Now, now. You can't exactly blame him for wanting to run away after the last time. He told me during fencing practice about how you two almost got shot by Kim. You can't exactly blame the guy for wanting to run." Nate tells Nino, causing the other boy to sigh in acknowledgment.

"Good point. Sorry for my tone, dude. I'm just annoyed you abandoned me, and I got turned into a groupie." Nino apologizes to his friend.

"No, no. It's cool. I'll make sure to give you a warning next time. I'm sorry you became one of Fashionista's followers. I'm also sorry I couldn't help you." Adrien apologizes back, and Nino smiles at his friend.

"Well, as long as you warn me next time. Then we'll be cool." Nino tells him, and Adrien nods.

"Of course," Adrien says.

After that talk, Mr. Damocles walks into the middle of the courtyard with a microphone and says.

"Well, that was a rather exciting conclusion to this event. Firstly, I wish to apologize to anyone caught up in the attack. Next, I would like everyone to give a hand to our young artists who were brave enough to join this costume and have their works judged." Mr. Damocle requests, causing people to start clapping toward the various contest contestants.

After the clapping dies down, Mr. Damocles makes one last announcement.

"This is also an announcement to the students. I expect you all to be prepared for the end of the semester coming up soon. Study, finish your homework, and mentally prepare yourselves for the finals." Mr. Damocles tells them, causing all the students to groan.

"Now, now, none of that. Just think, you'll have two weeks off from school. That means you can finally get away from this place and maybe be more likely to avoid Hawkmoth." Mr. Damocles tells his students.

This statement is better received among Françoise Dupont's student body. Everyone looks excited at the prospect of being out of school. Now more than ever, considering they're less likely to get involved in an Akuma attack.

"With that said, I wish you all safe travels back home and will see you tomorrow." Mr. Damocles says before walking away.

The various children begin to disperse out the front door. However, nobody notices the same doorman from the hotel during Princess Fragrance's rampage standing on the second floor, looking down at everyone as they leave the courtyard.

The doorman doesn't say anything. All he does is stare at the people with a neutral calculating look. After a few seconds, he turns around and walks out of sight.

Adrien and Nathalie are currently being driven back to his mansion by Mr. Garde.

"Well, that was an unpleasant yet, not unexpected situation. I'm glad you managed to get out of there before anything happened to you, Adrien." Nathalie tells Adrien with a smile.

"I'm glad you were okay too, Nathalie." Adrien smiles back at her.

"It's surprising how often Hawkmoth targets your school. I believe all the Akumas we've seen so far have been students at your school." Nathalie frowns as she checks something on her tablet.

Adrien blinks at Nathalie in surprise. However, when he thinks about it, he realizes she's right.

"Hey, you're right. Ivan, Aurore, Nathaniel, Alya, Rose, and Chloe are all students at Françoise Dupont. Why is Hawkmoth targeting our school so much?" Adrien wonders as he puts a hand to his chin.

"Well, schools are full of teenagers with a lot of emotions. So, it makes sense that he'd be using them if he needs negative emotions since it's always your school that's targeted, though. It could mean that Hawkmoth lives close by." Nathalie tells him in a grave tone as she narrows her eyes.

That causes Adrien to stiffen. Hawkmoth may be close to his school. Hawkmoth may eventually figure out who he is if he's not more careful with where he transforms. Could Hawkmoth have seen him change at some point?

"No, if he did, he would have gone after me already." Adrien mentally explains to himself.

The two arrive home to a shocking scene. Gabriel Agreste is standing outside of his mansion's doors behind the gate.

"Gabriel, what are you doing outside?" Nathalie asks her boss and friend in surprise. She hasn't seen him outside since Emilie disappeared.

"I had something urgent to talk to both of you about and couldn't wait long. So, I decided to meet with you before you could enter the mansion." Gabriel tells her calmly.

Nathalie, Adrien, and even Maurice Garde all grow slightly nervous at Gabriel's words, seeing as they understand what he's like to varying degrees. The three enter the mansion, and Gabriel looks toward Maurice.

"You may stay out of this, Mr. Garde. This is between me, Nathalie, and my son." Gabriel tells him.

Maurice immediately turns and sits on one of the lobby couches so the other three can have privacy during their conversation.

Gabriel leads the two following him upstairs and opens the door to Adrien's room, causing him to become nervous, thinking his father found something he wasn't happy with in his room. After they enter his room, Gabriel has both Adrien and Nathalie sit on the couch with him following soon after.

"Now then, I would like to ask, would you be willing to return to being homeschooled?" Gabriel asks Adrien with a relatively calm piercing gaze.

Adrien and Nathalie are shocked at Gabriel's request.

"Sir, are you sure that's a good idea? Adrien has been enjoying his time at school and has even made a few friends." Nathalie tells Gabriel.

"And that school is constantly under attack by Hawkmoth," Gabriel tells her, making the other two room occupants realize that Gabriel knew what they knew about the Akumas.

"Yes, while that is true-" Nathalie starts before Gabriel cuts her off.

"It is far too dangerous to allow Adrien to continue being among the people with the highest chance of being turned into villains." Gabriel cuts Nathalie off with a glare.

"But the heroes have always managed to stop Hawkmoth's villains. We don't have to worry about them for long." Adrien tells Gabriel.

"And yet, they still haven't found Hawkmoth himself. If they can't cut off the source of these villains, then all they're doing is delaying the inevitable. It's only a matter of time before Hawkmoth wins if nothing changes, and that'll mean any damage done during that time will be permanent. Is that really a risk you're willing to take?" Gabriel asks Adrien and Nathalie with a raised eyebrow.

Adrien bites his lower lip in uncertainty when he realizes his father is right. He and Ladybug haven't done much to deal with the Akumas and have been focusing on getting used to their Miraculous. He, in particular, has been aiming to try and catch up with her.

"I'm sure they're getting used to having powers. Don't forget, Paris has never had heroes before today. So, they're probably getting used to being the first ones." Adrien tells him, and if someone paid close enough attention, they'd be able to see a slight twitch of the eyebrow at the words about them being the first heroes.

"I don't see how that's a decent excuse. Leaving your safety up to unprepared children who have mostly gotten lucky against those villains is not something I'm willing to do." Gabriel tells him.

Adrien bites his lower lip, and Nathalie gets up to say something but is cut off by Gabriel.

"I want to hear this from Adrien Nathalie. I want to hear him tell me if he truly believes this experience is worth all the danger." Gabriel tells her as he stares into Adrien's eyes with a calm piercing gaze.

Adrien looks into his father's gaze and gets increasingly nervous. However, with his experience as Cat Noir, Adrien dares to say something his father wasn't prepared for.

"What if something changes during my first year at school?" Adrien asks his father challengingly.

Gabriel blinks in surprise at Gabriel's question. He wasn't expecting his son to say that.

"What do you mean, Adrien?" Gabriel asks him.

"Just give me one more semester. If nothing changes during my first school year, I'll happily go back to being homeschooled with no complaints. But, if something does change and the heroes seem like they're starting to figure out who Hawkmoth is, you have to let me continue to go to public school." Adrien orders, giving his father a challenge.

Gabriel stares at his son in shock, not expecting him to grow so much in the few weeks he's been in school. However, he quickly cools his emotions and returns to his previous expression.

"And why should I agree to this, Adrien? I can pull you out of school whenever I want as your guardian. All it would take is a few phone calls, and you'd be back in the house." Gabriel tells Adrien with a raised eyebrow.

That causes Adrien to freeze up again as he tries to figure out a good reason. However, it's Nathalie who speaks up first.

"Gabriel, the world is plagued with all kinds of threats. This is a good opportunity for Adrien to learn how to handle situations that involve superpowers." Nathalie tells him.

Gabriel glares at Nathalie for interrupting.

"And why should I accept that? It would be safer for him to stay inside and let this time pass. What you're saying is like telling someone this is a good opportunity to handle situations that involve firearms. Either way, Adrien would still be in a lot of danger." Gabriel tells her.

Adrien looks at his father in uncertainty with Nathalie. He doesn't know what he can say to get his father to continue to allow him to go to school. The thought of leaving his friends behind to return to being locked in his room causes his anxiety to rise.

Thanks to the Butterfly Miraculous' influence, Gabriel can easily sense this rise in emotions and sees how he's tearing his son apart by trying to force him to return home. Taking a deep breath, Gabriel turns toward the door.

"Fine, I'll allow you to finish your first school year outside. However, should Ladybug and Cat Noir fail to do anything to improve Paris' situation during that time, you will be returning to homeschooling." Gabriel sighs, not looking at his son as he heads toward the door to leave the room.

Adrien's eyes widen, and he looks at his father in shock. That shock soon turns into happiness as he shouts.

"Thank you, Father!"

Gabriel doesn't say anything. He just leaves the room and walks down the hall with clenched fists. Unknown to him, Nooroo is flying above his head and smiling.

"You made the right decision, in my opinion, Gabriel." Nooroo silently mutters as he watches Gabriel head toward his office.

Marinette and Nate are relaxing in Marinette's room. Marinette is happily staring at her contest-winning hat while Nate is watching an amateur video one of the teens in the classrooms took of Cat Noir's new power.

"*Whistles* That is such a cool power. It looks like Cat Noir leveled up." Nate smiles as he watches how he and the other entourage members get trapped.

"Yeah, it looks like we're not going to need the Miraculous in the Miracle Box at this rate," Marinette tells him.

"Maybe. So, how does it feel to be acknowledged by Gabriel Agreste?" Nate asks her.

"Absolutely amazing. I can't believe he chose my hat out of everyone else. I really liked some of the designs that others made. They all looked great. So, I was so shocked when he chose me." Marinette begins rambling excitedly while happily hugging her hat.

"Yeah, looks like you're one step closer to your dream of becoming a famous fashion designer," Nate tells her with a smile.

"Yeah, what about you? How's that gaming dream coming?" Marinette asks him.

"Honestly, I don't know what I want to be. It's not like I'm actually taking over the hotel, either." Nate sighs.

Marinette blinks in confusion before remembering something.

"Oh, that's right. Your sister wants to take over the hotel." Marinette says in realization.

"Yeah, Dad wants her to take over the hotel when he retires. So, I'm out of the running to do that. It's not like I'll be able to run this place anyway." Nate shrugs.

"Do you know how she's doing overseas?" Marinette asks Nate.

"We get messages from her every now and then about her time at university. She says it's going good most of the time. She even posts about her time on social media." Nate tells her.

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" Marinette asks.

"Yep, she's having a better time than us," Nate tells her with a shrug.

Before the two can go on any longer, they hear a knock at the door, and Jean-Yves peeks his head through the door.

"Nathanial, you're father would like to see you. You can come too Mademoiselle Marinette." Jean-Yves tells them.

The two look at each other before Nate gets off his bed and heads to the door, Marinette soon following him. Jean-Yves leads them to Samuel's office and opens the door for them.

"Thank you, Jean-Yves," Samuel tells his friend with a smile.

Jean-Yves nods and closes the door.

Samuel looks at the two teens with a smile and says.

"Congratulations on winning that contest, Marinette. I'm glad that your hard work paid off." Samuel tells her.

"Thank you, Mr. Dupain," Marinette tells him with a slight bow.

"Please, you're my niece now; Samuel is enough. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you guys about something." Samuel tells them, causing Nate to start panicking.

"If it's about the finals, I am studying. I will try to get good grades on them." Nate immediately tells him in a worried voice.

Samuel quickly waves his son off, though.

"No, it's about something you and your classmates can do over break. I'm not too worried about your grades, Nathanial." Samuel tells his son, causing Nate to calm down.

That calms Nate down, and the two teens look at Samuel in confusion. Samuel then pulls out a stack of papers. The two walk over and grab a couple to read them.

"Permission slips?" Marinette questions while Nate raises an eyebrow.

"Yes, you see, I've actually been talking with your teacher, and we decided to make a sort of internship-field trip where her students can work here for a little while to learn more about hotels and adult life," Samuel explains.

"That could be cool." Nate smiles.

"I'm glad you like it. I was going to ask for your input on dividing the jobs everyone has to do at this hotel." Samuel tells them.

"Can't you just hold a sort of... what's it called? A raffle, I think. You know, where you leave the jobs up to chance so everyone has a fair chance to get the jobs they want." Nate tells his father.

Samuel blinks at Nate in shock.

"That's actually a good idea. Maybe we can do that to pick the beginning jobs before having the students swap places." Samuel says as he writes that down.

"Glad I could help," Nate tells him with a smile.

"Do you have any ideas, Marinette?" Samuel asks.

Marinette thinks about it for a second but can't come up with anything.

"No, I can't think of anything. Sorry." Marinette apologizes.

"That's fine, Marinette. Thank you for coming and helping me." Samuel tells them.

The two nod and leave the room.

Alya is looking at her screen in frustration as she still hasn't found anything pertaining to Hawkmoth's words. None of her site's followers know anything about heroes in Paris before Ladybug and Cat Noir.

"Is he just messing with me? I can't find anything on heroes in Paris before Ladybug and Cat Noir!" Alya shouts in frustration.

Taking a deep breath, Alya narrows her eyes determinedly.

"I'm not giving up. I'm going to figure out what he was talking about," Alya promises to herself.

So, Adrien just stood up to his father and managed to get a win.

I can not wait for you guys to see the events of this next Akuma! It's going to be one of the major turning points of the story and answer an unasked question of how Hero's Day is going to work when it seems like Nathalie doesn't know anything about Gabriel being Hawkmoth.

Next Chapter

[seb-writess]

The Story of Us

Pairings: Tanner/Sebastian (Autoboyography)

Tags: Rated explicit for sexual content, canon-divergence

Summary: Tanner makes everything okay, and reminds Sebastian that it’s all worth it. The distance and the fabrication and the lies. Tanner understands how hard it is for Sebastian to continue to lie to his family, for how could he possibly tell them the truth? The whole truth.

That he hasn’t been to church in over a year. That he stopped going to service. That he’s currently as far from any BYU campus as physical space will allow. That he’s happily wrapped in the arms of the man he loves above anything else.

That his mission very nearly destroyed him.

Status: Complete (5,080 words)

READ UNDER THE CUT

Sebastian’s mother seems to be intent on sharing every small part of this recipe with him in the space of only a few minutes, and has seemed to forgotten that she can just e-mail it to him later.  He does appreciate all the advice, and it’s hard not to fall asleep to the familiar way she lovingly lists her instructions.

His calls home always fill his chest with a familiarity that almost aches.  There’s the constant commotion in the background that inevitably comes with having three other rapidly ageing siblings.  His mother’s talking, that’s always interrupted when Faith puts her hand too close to the stove or Aaron attempts to watch TV before he’s finished his homework.  He doesn’t mind in the slightest, as often as she apologises, because it’s all just reminders of everything he holds dear.

And everything he is sure to lose.

“A nifty trick, Sebastian, is adding a whole potato to sit in the sauce if you’ve accidentally added too much salt.”

He laughs at that.  “And then I have a marinated potato after?  Two dinners in one.”

She chuckles with him.  

Sebastian stretches across his bed, feeling the conversation coming to an end.  Just as grateful as he is for these talks, he is always just as grateful to have them end.  No matter how long he’s done this for, the lies scratch at his throat until it’s raw.  They weigh on his shoulders until he’s sure his back will break.

But what’s the alternative?

“I better go; it looks like instead of trying to sneak in TV before dinner, Aaron has taken to reading comics behind his text books.”

Sebastian laughs.  “I wonder who he got that trick from.”

“Yes, I wonder that myself.”

They both know it was Sebastian.

Eventually, she offers her good-byes and Sebastian counters with his own.  They wish their love on each other, like they always do, and words of wisdom to carry themselves through the week.  

It would be a sweet and soft sentiment, if not for the razors hidden under all the words.

Finally, the line goes dead, and Sebastian would collapse if he wasn’t already lying down.  His phone is thrown to the other side of the bed, and he rubs at his eyes, hoping to disperse some of the tension that’s built in his head.  It sort of works.

As usual, Sebastian breathes deeply, concentrating on where he is and how far he’s come; not what he’s done or who he might hurt.  A trick from his therapist that’s helped significantly with the panic attacks that used to be so frequent after talking to his family.

There’s a knock on the bedroom door.  Sebastian mumbles an affirmative, and a familiar wave of brown hair and the still too gorgeous smile appears around the corner.  Sebastian smiles back, tension easing further still.

“You okay?” Tanner asks.  Sebastian nods.  Tanner purses his lips.  “Are you really okay or are you telling me you’re okay so I think you’re okay and leave you alone but you’re really not okay?”

Sebastian laughs.  “Would you just get in here?”

Tanner happily takes the invitation and slides onto the bed beside Sebastian, aligning their bodies, wrapping an around Sebastian’s waist and using the other to card fingers through his hair.  Sebastian doesn’t just feel the tension leaving his head and the weight dispersing from his body.  He feels something else replacing it.  Something far lighter and far more welcome.  Something like acceptance and friendship and the unconditional love he didn’t find in a community where it was promised to him.

“How are they?” Tanner asks.

“Aaron gets his braces off next week.  Faith is playing an angel in the church play.  My mum told me to marinate a potato.”

He feels Tanner nod against his head.  “Oh right.  If the sauce is too salty.”

Sebastian smiles into Tanner’s chest.

Tanner makes everything okay, and reminds him that it’s all worth it.  The distance and the fabrication and the lies.  Tanner understands how hard it is for Sebastian to continue to lie to his family, for how could he possibly tell them the truth?  

The whole truth.

That he hasn’t been to church in over a year.  That he stopped going to service.  That he’s currently as far from any BYU campus as physical space will allow.  That he’s happily wrapped in the arms of the man he loves above anything else.

That his mission very nearly destroyed him.

All the talk of how he’ll find stronger devotion, become a better man, discover a more meaningful purpose didn’t prepare him for the shadows lurking beneath the glass floor, ready and waiting to eat him should it break.  There was no talk of the long hours, the rigid schedule, the lack of compassion from people who were meant to be showing him guidance.  

There was no talk of the abuse he’d receive, from everyone around him, for two whole years.  No warning of how his faith wouldn’t just be tested, but how he’d be stripped of anything else, until he was the shell of someone who had nothing left.  And when you having nothing left but faith, how are you meant not to question that too?

And question it he did.

Sebastian was home for a month before he left again.  Making up some story on the spot of how he felt drawn elsewhere and wanted to share what he had learnt with others.  His parents, who had done a great job at ignoring the shadows under his eyes and the trauma showing in the protruding lines on his face, had thought this to be a great step for him.  So Sebastian took their naivety and ran with it, all the way across the country to where he hoped everything he had sacrificed might somehow take him back.

Of all the testing his faith had been through, he never should have questioned Tanner.

Tanner had taken one look at him, read everything on his face, in his posture, in the line of his body, in the look of his eyes, and had drawn him in and held him tight for hours.  Sebastian had cried himself to both dehydration and exhaustion.  

The memories are still fresh, even as Sebastian, partly healed but always loved, lies with his face to Tanner’s chest.

Tanner kisses the top of his head.  There’s a beat of silence while they lie together, and Sebastian slowly allows himself to feel better.  They don’t talk anymore.  It’s just the sounds of Tanner’s fingers on the fabric of Sebastian’s shirt as they trail over his muscles.  The sounds of Sebastian’s soft breathing, while he attempts to hold onto this for as long as he can.  

“Do you want to be alone?” Tanner eventually asks, and he may never understand how such a simple offer means so much to Sebastian.  

One of the hardest things Sebastian has had to learn is asking for privacy.  It was one of the things he’d been so deprived of as a missionary, barely able to take a shower or go to the bathroom without the constant presence of his mission companion looming over him like a giant’s shadow.  Now, it’s what Tanner gives him when he feels he doesn’t know what to offer.  It seems counterproductive, to give Sebastian space when he seems to need support, but Sebastian couldn’t love Tanner more for it.

“No,” he answers.  Not this time.  Instead, Sebastian shifts so he can place a kiss at the hollow of Tanner’s throat.  He feels Tanner swallow, almost nervous, almost always nervous when Sebastian touches him.  “It’s getting easier.”

It’s getting easier to lie.  It’s getting easier to ignore the pain and guilt that wells up inside him everytime he talks to his family.  It’s getting easier to realise all that he left behind is, while a very large part of his identity, is not the only part of his identity.  They may never allow him to live with both, but everyday he grows closer to choosing the part he cannot live without.  

This is the right decision, he tells himself.  That leaving the church, even secretly, and hiding in the depths of Los Angeles is making him happier than he could ever be if he stayed in Provo.

Tanner helps.  He’s right there.  Always right beside Sebastian, helping him make these decisions everyday.  He never says what Sebastian thinks he’ll say, but in the best way possible.  The almost deprecating and dismissive words he is always so scared to hear and will never know how to react to if he ever does.  

“You’re doing the right thing.”  

“The church is all a lie anyway.” 

“Be grateful you escaped.”  

Tanner has never said any such thing. He only offers Sebastian a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on when it all gets too much and the world feels too dark again.

On the rare occasions when he does find the courage to talk of his experiences, to become raw with Tanner while they lie awake in the middle of the night, limbs tangled under sheets and hair tangled on pillows, he wonders if Tanner hates hearing it.  The stories.  The nightmares.  The horror tales.

And does he hate hearing them because they’re so terrifying?  Or because they’re the very real experiences Sebastian had to go through?  But Tanner always seems grateful when Sebastian opens up, and admittedly, Sebastian always feels lighter for it.  He has less of a weight to carry with him, that he’s unloaded it somewhere no one has to look at it.  His mind feels clearer.  His limbs feel looser.  

They stay like they are for a while.  The sun slowly sets, filling the bedroom with afternoon light.  The room will become too hot to stay in soon.  They should move to the living room, where they can sit under the fan while Tanner works on his essay and Sebastian works on his book.  But Tanner has taken to running his hand up and down Sebastian’s back, and it feels too soothing to disrupt.  Sebastian makes a sound.  A half-moan, half-yawn, all-happy sound.

Tanner laughs, and it disrupts a few strands of Sebastian’s hair.  He lifts himself up to crawl up Tanner’s body, the brush of lips and the scratch of Tanner’s weekend stubble creating a new and welcomed heat.  Tanner might have been in the middle of a laugh, or a smile, but it’s wiped off as he loses himself in kissing Sebastian.  Just as Sebastian loses himself in all that Tanner is.

A swipe of tongues, a squeeze of limbs, a hum from Tanner’s throat, but nothing deeper.  It’s just the press of their bodies and the warmth of each other.  It’s still enough.  

Sometimes, it’s even too much.

As they kiss slowly, Sebastian feels something awaken in the back of his mind, light on his fingers and deep in his gut.  Something he’s sure both he and Tanner would love to indulge in, but the room is growing hotter by the minute and Sebastian feels sweat begin to bead on his neck and build on the back of his shirt, so Sebastian chooses to ignore it.  They part with a wet sound, although Sebastian wonders if it’s his imagination that sees the hint of regret in Tanner’s face.

They move to the living room, blasting the ceiling fan.  Tanner grabs cans of coke from the fridge and Sebastian downs half of his in one go.  He needs the sugar hit to have an even ounce of motivation to work on his book.

“What chapter are you on?” Tanner asks, settling himself beside Sebastian on the couch and pulling his own laptop onto his knees.  

Sebastian opens his document to check his progress.  “Twenty-three.  My editor wants the confession to have more passion.”  He finds himself rubbing his eyes again, trying to dig out the stress from behind his eyeballs.  “I’m not in a particularly passionate mood though.”

He wishes he hadn’t said it, because he knows what Tanner is going to say next.  “I could help you with that.”

Sure enough, when he pulls his hands away from his face, Tanner’s eyes are hooded and his smirk is sultry.  Sebastian returns the look with one void of any amusement, but he still leans in and kisses Tanner’s lips.  It’s chaste and quick, a firm hand on his stubbly jaw to keep him in place.  

“Write your essay,” Sebastian says firmly.

“You know I love it when you order me around,” Tanner jibes.

Sebastian pretends to ignore him, but he knows Tanner has noticed his flushed cheeks and furrowed expression as he tries not to let his mind wander to images he doesn’t have the time to sit with.  Although the warmth of those images always sits under his skin, ready and very willing.

Sebastian thought he had already come to know temptation well when he first met Tanner.  Years ago now, when he was barely a familiar face to Sebastian.  Then he found himself running to hide with Tanner away from everything, and while they worked through the other myriad of problems their relationship faced, Sebastian found himself realising there was so much more temptation in a life with Tanner than just comfort and safety.  Again, he has no time to dwell on this if he wants to get this chapter at least partially edited.  

“You’re still thinking about it,” Tanner says, and Sebastian can feel the smugness in his words.

“Shut up,” Sebastian scoffs, pretending even harder to concentrate on the words in front of him.  “I hate you.”

“You wish you did.”

—

Hours later, Sebastian shuts his laptop with a resounding thwack.  He groans, rolls his neck under his hand, attempts to block out the blocks of words that he can still see even behind his closed eyes.  

“You done, babe?” Tanner calls from the kitchen.  Sebastian bites back his smile, the thrill of the pet name still fresh on his skin.  Tanner gave up on his essay only an hour ago, deciding he’d rather start on dinner.  

“Yeah,” he answers.  

“Find any words of passion after all?”

Sebastian’s laugh is more of a snort.  He places his laptop on the coffee table and walks into the kitchen where Tanner is slicing vegetables.  His eyes do not trace the lines of muscles flexing in Tanner’s biceps.  His eyes do not think of rough hands on smooth parts of Sebastian’s body.  

What is wrong with him today?

Horny.  That’s what’s wrong with him.  A word Tanner would so helpfully supply if Sebastian were to voice his current not-so-innocent thoughts.

“A few,” Sebastian replies, washing his hands and then picking up an onion to start helping.  “I outlined the sword fight between the prince and his knight.”

“Give the words of passion to them; there’s nothing sexier than a sword fight.  Two birds with one stone.”

It’s lucky Sebastian hasn’t picked up a knife yet, because his hands fumble around the onion he’s currently peeling.  He returns Tanner’s cheeky smile with a derisive look of his own, to hide the truth burning under his skin.  That he’s thought about it more than once, struggled to voice this to his editor, but secretly written such scenes when he can’t find it in himself to work on the pages that will actually make their way to publication.

And yes, the knight might share similar features with the man expertly dicing a tomato beside him, but that’s his secret.

“That would certainly be a plot twist,” Sebastian replies.  “Three books in but now the prince decides he won’t die for his queen, but stay alive for the one who was meant to die for him first.”

He says it as a joke, knowing there’s no chance on this planet for it to happen, but the worm of possibility is there and Sebastian can’t ignore it.  

“I’d read it.”

“You read anything I write,” Sebastian laughs.  “Except the shopping list.”

Tanner groans, and again, Sebastian uses the sound to picture making him groan for a different reason, and with a lot more breath behind it.  

This is getting ridiculous.

“One time!” Tanner argues.  He’s smiling though, completely infatuated with Sebastian’s bemused expression.  “I forgot the milk one time!”

“And I had to drink black tea all weekend.”

Tanner puts down his knife and suddenly grabs Sebastian’s jaw, his fingers cool and slightly sticky.  Sebastian attempts to bite back his shiver.

“Aww, babe,” Tanner chides, pressing a wet and humorous kiss to Sebastian’s cheek.  “You poor thing!  The world really is out to get you.”

Sebastian pushes him away with his free hand.  “You’re out to get me!”

It doesn’t work.  Tanner still crowds closer to Sebastian, a hand on his hip now, pulling him closer.  His voice goes quiet and trails deep in Sebastian’s gut, where it’s becoming almost impossible to keep back this feeling.

“Can I make it up to you?”

Sebastian hisses, sucks in a breath, and he knows he’s been caught.  Especially when Tanner’s fingers start digging just right into the jut of his hip, where Sebastian likes to feel it.  

Tanner’s lips are hot and fierce and Sebastian realises there’s a reason Tanner didn’t preheat the oven first.  Because now they might have to abandon their lasagne entirely in favour of take out.  Because Sebastian suddenly wants to be doing something else that’s going to take up a good few hours of their night.

Sebastian nips at Tanner’s lips and welcomes the tongue in his mouth while releasing all his pent up frustration in one long, open-mouthed moan.  He’s so easy, he knows.  Tanner could string him along for hours and barely touch him and Sebastian would still be willing for it.  

“When did you know?” Sebastian gasps as Tanner moves to kissing Sebastian’s neck.  Tanner has his body pressed to Sebastian’s pressed to the kitchen counter.  The corner of it digs into the small of Sebastian’s back, but he’s already thrumming with anticipation.  Tanner’s lips are light on his skin but his teeth are sharp on his pulse.  His mind has gone completely blank.

“Didn’t,” Tanner murmurs, his words honey sweet and dripping with purpose.  “Took a guess.”

Sebastian can’t help the embarrassing whine that tumbles from his lips.  “Good guess.”

—

He’s on his back, torn between fixating on what’s happening between his legs or watching Tanner’s arms flex where they have Sebastian caged against the mattress.  He was admiring them earlier, but now they’re completely bare and lightly glistening with sweat in the light of the bedroom lamp.  Tanner is biting his lip in concentration, and Sebastian knows he’s focusing more on his partner than himself, attempting to find the right angle that won’t cause Sebastian pain and will make this good for the both of them.  Sebastian is completely gone on the feeling of Tanner, and hasn’t felt anything other than the red hot poker in his gut for a while.  His breathing is uneven, punched from his chest everytime Tanner thrusts, and he’s been trying to beg Tanner for more, but everytime he opens his mouth, another moan escapes him instead.  

“I love your noises,” Tanner whispers.  His words are still molasses on Sebastian’s skin, a slow trickle on his nerves.  Sebastian finds his hands grappling along Tanner’s back, his nails catching skin and he knows there’s going to be angry, red marks there when they’re done.  

“You know I-” Thrust.  Moan.  Inhale.  “You know I love your arms.”

Tanner chuckles, breathless and deep, and it’s still so hot.  

“I love your lips.”  To prove his point, Tanner licks them once and kisses him twice, sweeps his thumb over the bottom lip he’s already kissed red.  Sebastian suddenly thinks of drawing it in and sucking on the pad of Tanner’s thumb.  He hesitates, before deciding to go with his gut and following through.  He’s rewarded with a faster pace.

Then it’s just them, moving fast but steady as they find pleasure with each other.  Sebastian’s words become unintelligible again, but Tanner seems to understand his pleas for more, more, don’t stop, more.

Seeing spots in his vision, Sebastian mumbles something even he himself cannot understand.

“I love you, too,” Tanner replies, in the crest of Sebatian’s ear, and his chest swells alongside his orgasm.  Tanner reaches between them to make sure Sebastian isn’t far behind him, which he never really was, but it’s enough to make his toes curl and his breath leave his body.

—

Sebastian vaguely thinks they’ve left a perfectly good onion browning on the kitchen counter, but then Tanner kisses him again and all he can think about is how empty his body feels.  And it’s a good kind of empty.  Tanner’s gentle with him now, hand cupping his face, lips tracing the ridge of his jaw.  Sweaty and naked and sticky beside each other but Sebastian wouldn’t move for the world.

“You’re so beautiful,” Tanner says, words quiet.  Sebastian blinks some comprehension back into himself, and offers Tanner a tired but completely sated smile.

“Says you,” he replies, followed by, “Thank you.”

Tanner laughs.  “You don’t have to thank me for sex.”

Sebastian swats him.  “You know that’s not what I’m thanking you for!”

Tanner laughs again but goes back to placing soft, warm and perfect kisses along the lines of Sebastian’s body he can’t see, the scratch of his facial hair causing Sebastian to shudder.  He wilts under the touch.  He really is so easy.

It doesn’t take as long as it should before Sebastian is twitching again, wanting it again.  His hand tightens in Tanner’s hair, a fist pulling at the strands, and Tanner catches on quick, because his kisses turn deeper, more purposeful.  

“I want to suck your dick,” Sebastian finds himself saying.  He doesn’t regret it.

“Jes- Sebastian!” Tanner is kneeling above Sebastian in a heartbeat.  “Warn a man before you say something like that.”

Sebastian doesn’t get to throw Tanner off very often, so is pleased with the reaction.  

“It’s more fun when I don’t.”

Tanner grumbles, but the anticipatory grin on his face betrays him while they switch positions and Tanner is on his back, getting comfortable against the headboard.  

“Uh, one thing though,” Tanner frowns as he says this.  “We’re out of the flavoured condoms, and I just used the last lubed one for….”

Sebastian falters for only a moment.

“Remember to tap out then,” he says before getting down to business.

Truthfully, he only uses them because he likes feeling Tanner finish in his mouth but hates how cum feels and tastes.  They rarely do anything without safety first, but Sebastian is feeling different today.  Maybe it was the earlier talk with his family setting him on edge.  Maybe all this really is getting too easy.  Maybe he just feels something deeper for his boyfriend than the usual bone-dense familiarity.  

All he knows is he feels he needs to be close to Tanner, wants to make him feel as good as he’s made Sebastian feel ever since they met, and he doesn’t mind doing that at the expense of making some mess.

He thought it’d be longer and slightly more work before Tanner was completely hard again, but Sebastian feels him grow on his tongue in a short time.  Maybe there’s something to be said for going raw more often.  Tanner’s fingers are gentle in Sebastian's hair, trailing on his scalp with his fingernails.  It makes Sebastian shudder around him, making Tanner groan, making Sebastian groan too.

“Fu-” he hears Tanner bite back a curse.  “You’ve gotten so good at this.”

Sebastian grinds his hips against the mattress, thrumming under the praise.  

He takes his time, wanting Tanner to understand how much he adores him, how much he would do for him.  He usually has to wear at least a thin veil of confidence when he does this; the shame and stigma of sex ingrained in his memory, buried under a scab he can never quite scratch.  But he’s enjoying himself this time, almost too much, almost too eager.

Tanner has no complaints.

He groans a little louder around Tanner when Tanner presses on his scalp, letting him  know he can get rougher, that he doesn’t have to be so gentle this time.  Tanner is hesitant to take the invitation, but is soon thrusting gently and Sebastian has completely relaxed into it.

“Okay,” Tanner gasps.  “Okay, I’m close.  I’m really, really close.”

Sebastian pulls off, one last kiss pressed to him before clasping his hand around it and finishing what he started.  He lies languidly beside Tanner, who is quick to seal their lips together while Sebastian works.  Tanner doesn’t seem to mind where Sebastian’s mouth just was.

When he finishes, it’s with a heavy groan and staccato breaths, mutters of it’s good and Sebastian’s name falling from his lips.  Sebastian rubs his thighs together, biting back the need to lean into the praise from Tanner and ask for more.

“Your turn?” Tanner asks, polite as ever.  Sebastian laughs quietly, about to ask for something simpler, when Tanner asks instead.  “Or you could roll over and I could do it the other way?”

Sebastian seizes.  Tanner doesn’t shave on the weekends, so by Sunday afternoon his usual morning stubble has grown out to a nice layer of rough hair that could almost be considered a beard.  Sebastian enjoys the feel of it against his skin, but has never stopped to think how it would feel deep between his thighs.

He does now, and he’s never wanted anything more.

He nods, slowly, careful if he moves too suddenly it might all blow away.  Tanner’s grin is back, bordering on cheeky but definitely smug, and Sebastian can’t find it in himself to feel annoyed by it.  Not when that grin disappears and the rough touch of Tanner’s jaw is already beginning to redden Sebastian’s skin.

Whatever.  No one else will see, but Sebastian is going to sufficiently enjoy the tingle he’ll have there for days.  

Sebastian hasn’t torn the sheets in his hands yet, but every time he’s slightly nervous it’ll happen.  His knuckles are white, his arms are shaking and he’s already drooled onto the pillow.  Tanner is good and quick behind him, which is its own blessing because Sebastian was never going to last long enough for him to draw it out.  He wants to know how Tanner knew that unmatching Serbastian’s pace is its own kind of love language.  

He was right though.  The contrast of Tanner’s rough beard and the heat of his mouth on Sebastian’s sensitive skin has him whining loudly.  He’s sure he’s a mess, sure he looks so embarrassing, but can’t bring himself to care when Tanner pries him apart and delivers like this.

More, more, don’t stop, more rains from Sebastian’s lips and he’s said the words so many times he’s afraid it’s losing all meaning, but Tanner never disappoints and he meets Sebastian's desperation without argument.

It’s white hot and sharp on his skin when he climaxes, crying out, the corners of his eyes wet with tears.  Tanner reaches between his legs and strokes him momentarily, just for good measure, and Sebastian is twitching by the time Tanner deigns to let go, but Sebastian can feel the temptation Tanner feels to stay.

“Alright,” Tanner gasps, whipping his mouth with the back of his hand.  “That was good.”

Sebastian is still coming down from the high Tanner just gave him, and that good, empty feeling has flooded his body.  He replies with a weak but genuine smile, and Tanner greets him at the pillows with a deep kiss.

—

“What if I did do it?” Sebastian asks, and after Tanner has given him a questioning look, follows up with “What if I did suddenly change the romance of my book?”

Tanner smiles.  Sebastian can’t really see it.  Their room is sufficiently dark once it gets late enough, tucked away in a corner of the city that gets no light pollution.  It makes moments like these far more intimate.  Makes them a stronger memory Sebastian keeps in his mind, and draws on it in his moments of weakness when the hows and the whys and the what ifs creep into his mind and become too loud for him to ignore.

“Do what you want to.  It’s your story.”

His editor might hate it.  For no other reason than it means changing a lot more than just several already well established and planned plot points.  It means more of a headache for his entire writing team.  They’d have to find new sensitivity readers.  Probably market it differently.  They might even ask him to wait until the next book.

But Sebastian was never good at waiting; he’s a man of bad timing.

“My parents will read it,” Sebastian says what they’re both thinking.  “They’ll know.”

He’s not sure coming out to them through a fairy tale is the best way to go, and yet he can’t stop the itch this idea has given him.  He wants to do something outlandish.  Something ridiculous.  Maybe it’s the only way his parents will ever see reason; see how far Sebastian is willing to go to be himself away from a community that while they sheltered him, are also responsible for the years of abuse.

Tanner squeezes Sebastian’s hand tighter, pulling it to his lips to kiss the knuckles that have gripped Tanner just as tight.

“It’s still your story.”

Is it though?

Tanner once wrote an entire book about himself and his struggles with falling in love with the wrong boy, and at the risk of a failing grade and losing his acceptance to UCLA, decided to never publish it.  Sebastian at least submitted it for him, because he saw between the lines what Tanner had failed to.

This isn’t his story.  It’s not even Sebastian’s story.  

It’s their story.

Tanner places another kiss to Sebastian’s lips, soft and clean.  Sebastian kisses him back.  It’s not for him to decide tonight which direction he’s taking now; all the choices will still be there for him in the morning.  He’s falling asleep faster than he intended to, but Tanner’s arm is a welcome weight along his middle and he brushes Tanner’s feet with his own whenever they shift.

He falls asleep with a smile on his lips and a story in his heart, beside the boy who’s given him the courage to tell it.