#I have a friend and I think she’s really cool

[kiszjuli]

MY GIRL .ᐟ

✸ shy!mark x fem!reader | genre. fluff. | w.c 2.2k | ♡

↳ synopsis. in which mark has apparently claimed you in his heart, and to no one other than his friends. hiding his feelings thinking that he didn’t have a chance, he gets extremely jealous when someone tries to ask you out for valentine’s day. you’re his girl.

↳playlist. designer - nct 127, just the way you are - bruno mars, can’t take my eyes off of you - frankie valli, when im with you - nct dream, night poem - nct dream, can’t help falling in love - elvis presley.

the student lounge was buzzing with laughter and chatter, the sounds of friends catching up and making plans for the upcoming 3-day weekend. mark sat at a corner table with his group of friends, jeno, donghyuck, and jisung. but his gaze and attention kept drifting to you. you were seated at a nearby table with your own group of friends. you were always effortlessly surrounded by people, your laugh ringing in his ears like his favorite song. mark had always admired how easily you lit up every room you entered, how everyone seemed drawn to your warmth and energy. and how-

“earth to mark,” jeno’s voice broke him from his thoughts, and Mark blinked, seeing his friends hand waving in front of his face. he looked up at his friend with a forced smile.

“huh? oh, yeah, sorry,” he mumbled, fixing the hat on his head, trying to look more engaged but failing.

jisung raised an eyebrow, noticing the direction mark was looking. “you good, man?” he asked, his voice casual but with an underlying hint of curiosity.

nodding quickly, mark then shifted in his seat. “yeah, i’m fine. just… trying to focus, you know?” He waved his hand brushing them off, though his eyes couldn’t help but flick back to you for a moment.

donghyuck catches where his eyes dart, and a knowing look forms on his face. “you sure? you’ve been staring at her all afternoon,” donghyuck added with a grin.

mark immediately blushed, feeling heat rush to his face. “what? no! i wasn’t staring,” he protested a little too quickly, tugging his hat lower to hide his face. “i just—uh, i’m just lost in thought.” he muttered, his voice cracking slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

jeno smirked. “uh-huh, sure. if you say so. but you’ve been acting kinda weird lately. you sure there’s nothing going on?”

mark swallowed hard, his heart racing at the thought of you. He had always admired you from a distance, but you were popular, way out of his league. his friends knew about his little crush on you, but he didn’t think they understood the full extent of it. he wasn’t even sure you saw him as more than a mere friend.

“i-idon’t know,” mark muttered, his voice quieter than usual. “it’s just… she’s always so surrounded by people, you know? she’s pretty much got everyone’s attention all the time.”

jeno leaned back, a teasing glint in his eyes. “she’s definitely got yours” his comment earning a laugh from the other two.

mark’s face flushed deeper, and he slumped in his seat. “no guys, seriously,” he mumbled, trying to play it cool but failing miserably. “she’s just… i don’t know. she’s popular, and i’m just… me.”

“yeah, well, ‘just you’ is exactly why you’ve got a shot,” donghyuck said, his voice light but encouraging. “you think she doesn’t notice? she does. she’s not blind, mark.”

“exactly,” jisung added, leaning back in his chair. “you’ve been acting like a nervous mess every time she’s around. maybe it’s time you do something about it, yeah?”

mark shot a small glance toward your table, his heart skipping a beat as you caught his eye for a second. he quickly adverted his gaze, pretending to be interested in something in front of him.

jeno chuckled and patted him on the back. “mark, you’ve got this. you just have to take a chance. she’s not some unreachable goddess. if you really like her, go for it. stop hiding behind your ‘I’m fine’ act.”

mark gave him a small, unsure smile. “maybe. i’ll think about it,”

but deep down, mark was terrified. he could never imagine you looking at him the way he looked at you. you were popular, funny, and effortlessly charming. he was… well, just mark.

as you laughed from across the room, mark’s heart gave an involuntary flutter. maybe his friends were right—maybe it was time to stand up and stop pretending he didn’t want more. more than to just watch you from afar. but for now, he stayed where he was, silently watching, unsure if he’d ever have the courage to tell you how he truly felt.

—

classes were now over, and small groups of people were in the large theater, helping set up for valentine's day. your school was hosting a valentine's day fundraiser, where the campus would raise money for local charities. this year's theme 'music for the heart'- likewise, the main attraction was the music appreciation raffle.

you were there of course, running the “song dedication booth” where students could pay a small fee to have a song dedicated to someone during the open mic. you decorated the booth yourself: choosing some white fairy lights to outline the sign, with red heart balloons all around, and of course some cut out music notes that you had done earlier.

“okay, so you want ‘can’t take my eyes off you’ for your girlfriend? great choice,” you said with a smile, writing the request onto the list. “she’ll love it.”

mark watched you from the edge of the stage, where he was tuning his guitar for his performance later. he could hear your cheerful voice as you talked with students, helping them pick the perfect songs. the way you talked about music, your passion shining through every suggestion and question, made his chest tighten.

“she’s really into this,” jisung remarked from behind the drum kit, glancing between mark and you. “you’re playing tonight, right? finally gonna make your move?”

mark glanced over at his friends—jeno adjusting his bass strap and dongkyuck pretending to help. he quickly averted his gaze, nervously strumming his guitar. “i don’t know,” he muttered. “she’s got so much going on. she’s busy.” he made excuses.

donghyuck rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “she’s running a music related booth, mark. if there’s ever a chance to make conversation, it’s right now.”

hesitant, he glanced back at you as you laughed with another student. “but what if she doesn’t feel the same way?” he said quietly.

“dude, she smiles at you differently than anyone else,” jeno chimed in. “i don’t think you realize how obvious you are. she’s into you too, but you can’t wait forever.”

the idea of putting himself out there, of confessing how he felt in front of everyone, made his palms sweat. he just couldn’t.

“why not dedicate your song to her?” jisung spoke up, his voice softer

mark’s heart pounded knowing that his song was already dedicated to you, having thought about it for weeks beforehand. he was going to perform ‘just the way you are’ by bruno mars.

mark glanced up, and his heart nearly stopped when he saw you looking his way, the fairy lights illuminated your features in the best way as you gave him a small, bright smile. he awkwardly waved back, his stomach flipping as you returned your attention to the students walking your way.

“smooth,” donghyuck muttered, biting back a laugh.

“shut up,” mark mumbled, his face heating up.

—

the lights in the theater dimmed, and the crowd hushed as mark stepped onto the stage, his guitar slung over his shoulder. you stood near the back of the room, watching as he adjusted the mic, his hands trembling slightly. you felt a smile creeping to your face.

“this one’s for someone special,” he said, his voice quiet but steady.

your best friend, winter nudged your shoulder and you glared at her with a laugh. she always teased you about your slight crush on the boy.

as the familiar chords of “just the way you are” filled the room, your heart skipped a beat. mark’s voice was soft yet filled with emotion, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on you.

when he sang, “her eyes, her eyes make the stars look like they’re not shining,” you felt your cheeks flush. feeling like you were looking too much into it, you shook your head slightly and glanced down at your shoes.

by the final verse, everyone was entranced by his voice. when the song ended, the applause broke the spell, but mark’s gaze lingered on yours, his lips curving into a shy smile.

—

the rest of the fundraiser went extremely well. the crowd winding down and now you found yourself starting to pack up your things at you booth.

“hey,” a voice interrupted, making you glance up.

It was a guy from one of your classes, holding a small bouquet of roses in his hands. he looked nervous but determined as he stepped closer to your booth.

“oh, hi!” you greeted warmly, taking a pause from packing up.

mark saw it from across the student center—the way the guy nervously walked up to you, clutching a small bouquet of flowers, his face tinged pink, your kind but still friendly smile. frozen in place, his chest tightened. he couldn’t hear the conversation, but he didn’t need to. the way the guy was smiling at you and the way you politely smiled back made it clear what was happening. but you were his girl. even if that guy didn’t know it yet.

of course someone else would ask you out. he knew it was going to happen at some point, always surrounded by people who admired you. and mark? he’d spent months hiding his feelings, thinking you’d never look at him that way.

but now as he sees the guy walk away from you-missing the slight frown on his face-he can’t stop his own two feet from moving towards you. his mind was racing. did you say yes? were you off limits now? labeled as someone else’s girl?

as he approached, you were gathering the last few things from your booth. you noticed him and looked up.

“oh, mark?” you asked tilting your head, still with bright eyes.

“hey,” he said, trying to sound casual but failing as his voice cracked slightly. “i, uh… i saw you talking to that guy just now.”

you raised an eyebrow, catching the uncertainty in his tone. “huh? oh yeah, he was just—”

“did you—did you say yes?” the words spilling out before he could stop them, and he winced as soon as he realized how frantic his voice sounded.

you blinked in surprise. “what?”

“to, uh… whatever he asked you…” mark said, rubbing the back of his neck, his face flushing. he was getting more and more choked up by the second. “i mean, obviously it’s fine if you did..it’s probably none of my business and- he seemed nice. i just…” he trailed off, his words stringing along as he avoided your gaze.

you stared at him for a moment before realizing what he was getting at. a soft laugh escaped your lips, and mark’s eyes darted to you, his brow furrowing in confusion. “what’s funny?”

“no, i didn’t say yes,” you said simply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “i told him i wasn’t interested.” you said looking up, your grin still lingering on your face.

mark felt relief wash over him as a small smile tugged at his lips. however, disbelief still clouded his mind. “you..didn't?”

shaking your head you spoke. “nope,” your smile was warm yet teasing as you say his rosy cheeks darken a little. “i think i’d rather wait for someone i actually want to say yes to,”

mark just blinked, not knowing how to react. what did that mean? could you be talking about him? or was it someone else? why would you-

“mark,” you called out, breaking him from his thoughts. “if..you have something to say, now would be the time,” you said softly, stepping a little closer.

“well, i-i have been wanting to say something for a while now,” he started, taking a breath. “i like you a lot, like- a lot..but i just didn’t think i had a chance..”

your smile widened feeling a small heat rise to your cheeks too. “you always had a chance mark,”

relief mixed with disbelief washed over him. you felt the same way the whole time? he let out a nervous laugh, his shoulders finally relaxing. “so, does this mean i can ask you out now?”

“i think you just did,” you teased, your fingers fiddling together, as your heart beat a little faster.

mark grinned, his confidence growing. he reached out for your hand, still shaking but sure. “well, then… will you be my valentine?” he wanted to ask ‘will you be my girl?’ but this would do for now-slow steps, he told himself.

“i’d love to,” you replied, your eyes sparkling as you smiled at him.

“y/n! can you come here for a sec?” winter called for you from the studio room. she apologized later once she found out was was happening, but you brushed it off saying it was okay.

you looked to mark and stepped closer. you softly pressed your lips to his cheekbone and pulled away slowly. “come find me later?”

he nods with a hum, too star struck by you to form a sentence, or even a word. you smiled and walked off, now knowing that you finally had the guy you wanted. and mark walked back to his guitar to his teasing friends with a dopey, cheesy smile knowing that you were his girl.

and in that moment, mark felt that every doubt, every little hesitation, had been worth it.

—

⁀➷⊹ ࣪ ˖~ THE LA LA LOVE SERIES .ᐟ

taggies(open) �� @kittydollzz @huffnpufffckk @completelyjae @lovesuhng @nae-vm @ayibdorrt @chocoriki @yowmaman @yukisroom97

[divineturtle]

Bothers me when I'm reading a fanfic and they make Doctor Leonard "Bones" McCoy just like. A mean asshole? MY Doctor McCoy introduced Spock to baby talk. MY Doctor McCoy bounces on his toes and has a smile bright as the sun. MY Doctor McCoy knocked Kirk *and* Spock out with a hypo to sacrifice himself for them even though the aliens said he was almost for sure going to die, and the other two would probably live. MY Doctor McCoy was like, hey, sure Spock committed mutiny, but do we really gotta arrest him? Yeah he's grumpy sometimes, but have you considered the fact that he's stuck on a ship in Space with two assholes that literally never listen?

I just watched the Abraham Lincoln episode and I stg it's a miracle McCoy isn't actually a huge asshole, because wym "this planet WAS deadly but Abraham Lincoln says it's cool so we're going" "hey, don't do that, you could beam down into lava and literally DIE" "Ugh shut UP McCoy we're following Abraham Lincoln onto the Lava Planet That WAS ENTIRELY LAVA until two minutes ago" dude I'd be swinging at a mfer. Especially if I was their doctor knowing it was going to be my job to sew them back together. They're absolute menaces to him and he still loves them and is willing to die for them every other episode.

And I don't ever want to see another "ahh he hates Spock" when he so obviously does not. In the last episode, he wasn't even sure that Kirk and Janice had swapped bodies and yet again, he was ready to commit mutiny with Spock and Scotty (why does Spock love mutiny? 🤨) He does like to rib Spock and get reactions out of him, but Spock likes to do it to McCoy just as much. He's been around humans his ENTIRE life, his mom is a human, he's half human, "I have no idea what you mean, Doctor, I'm just a simple little logic machine," you cannot convince me it's not a game.

And every time I feel like McCoy is being hurtful for actually no reason, the next scene is Spock taking action because of whatever McCoy had said and allowing himself to tap into that human part of him. He has a way of speaking Spock. It's not always nice but it's a way that gets through. Do you think asking Spock to use his Vulcan powers to permanently alter his friend and captain's memory so he forgets his grief over this chick he fell desperately for and then also she died in the span of like four hours is a great idea? No, he'd probably have some moral or logical issues with that. but just speech at him about love and feelings and stuff, throw something in there about how great it'd be if he could just forget, and he'll do it himself.

ANOTHER THING. When he's an asshole, he apologizes. He's not an asshole often, but when he is, he apologizes. Leonard McCoy is a lot of things, but he's not really a dick.

I think he deserves to be represented for the guy he is. He has SO many nice and good moments, he's just subtle about them. Remember when Kirk was like, "Bones, why didn't you tell me she was blind?" And he was like, "Idk Jim maybe because that'd be rude? Have you considered it's not your business?" REAL. Honestly, real.

This is a much longer rant than I meant for it to be and somehow I still have more I could say so imma cut myself off right here ❤️ If you read all that, thanks, you're just as weird as I am, even if you don't agree with my lil character analysis. If you didn't read all that, then you're not reading this ✨️

[beatlblog]

#cool art students from germany that only really liked george and john and found paul kinda annoying or smth#astrid + klaus ilyyy <33 (unfortunately dont know much about jurgen yet) (via @jarsfullofstars)

ok but the one who liked paul is of course Hans-Walter Braun aka icke who recorded the hamburg tape where macca IS ON RECORD DEDICATING the till there was you performance TO HIM

#also the eccentric younger brother who was whisked away to Paris by the young Guiness heir#the same who would give Paul his first trip and a motorbike ride in the moonlight and his alluring facial scarring#mike mccartney#tara browne#the beatles side characters pt ♾️ (via @crepesuzette2023)

#and Thee Side Character of all time - the mother of the drummer-who-was-sacked-to-make-room-for-Ringo who had a child by Neil Aspinall#mona best#the beatles#also the poet who made the beatles doubt their heterosexuality#also Bob Fraser. nough said lmao (via @me-fish)

#MLH dating gloria vanderbilt and mary tyler moore also makes me crazy#what a life….he queened out (via @planetaire)

#i didn't know michael lindsay-hogg was the illegitimate son of orson welles but deep down i feel like i always knew#they have the same energy (via @harmonicabisexuals)

#i read that one of linda's journalist ex friends who spread slut shaming rumours about her when she married paul was germaine greer?#i ​cannot for the life of me remember where i read it so i can't provide a source (via @spinnach)

#those were the days lol#neil aspinall/mona best and john riley the dentist i still can't believe that happened#also riley's wife or girlfriend worked for or had some connection with playboy#she worked for the playboy club i think (via @nikidontsurf)

#ofc hes the illegitimate son of orson welles.that makes sense for him. (via @hathahill)

#also the fact that like ????????? the Manson murders were using their music to justify their race war ideology and murder cult like ???????? (via @bugsssssssssssss)

#lmaooo i forgot about how mlh is 100% orson welles son (via @asurrogateblog)

#the evil manager who ended up being one of the big causes the band broke up#the club owner mother of their original drummer who had a child with one of their friends#the strict but well meaning aunt who always did her best to look out for john even though their personalities clashed#and also charles manson is there indirectly (via @the-electric-monk)

#it's so good#the beatles (via @thedoubteriswise)

#the beatles#side characters better than mains#but i dont support women calling men 'pussy'#mine has endured a lot - she is very brave#probably tmi (via @meledol84)

#mona best having a kid with her sons best friend and then her son being kicked out of the band (via @spiritinflight)

she deserved so much more she provided them their VENUE

#wheres bailey's post about magic alex. it's so good (via @tweeterwilbury)

#the beatles cinematic universe is wild (via @cherubina)

#when the side characters are more interesting than the actual characters (via @bbbrianjones)

not hard! when the sides deserve to be the mains

#everyone in the tags finding out abt the orson welles thing lolol (vi @elena-ferrante)

#they literally lived in a monty python sketch (via @wronglennon)

#evil LSD dentist caused the 2nd worse song on Revolver but it’s still great (via @sivavakkiyar)

#maybe it’s just my fault/being too online but sometimes certain things like this will just feel like common knowledge#but you absolutely cannot mention it to the average person™️ or you sound crazy#I’m thinking specifically of the time I explained the meatles to my friends and they were horrified#^^even that I think was maybe more well known bc of the press since it’s a wild thing to admit in an interview#but there’s obviously people who don’t give a shit about the band so ofc they wouldn’t know (via @philharmonica)

#dont forget joe orton#bludgeoned to death the morning he was suppose to meet richard lester for the third beatles film#what would i not give to have seen ortonesque beatles#rip (via @beatlestshirt)

!!!! oh a side who deserved to be a main for sure shit's crazy bro

#Tara Brown#The Guinness heir himself who died tragically young and inspired what is considered to be the Lennon/Mccartney masterpiece#Also got Paul to try lsd when even his mates couldn't (via @camibispace)

#y’all we can’t leave out jimmy and jemima#also#tru prev#it’s kinda funny watching the fascination and/or horror dawn on someone’s face when i tell them deep beatles lore#everyone take a peak at the tags and notes for this post#beatles lore is insane fr#beatles “common knowledge” (via @lilywolfgray)

#can't forget their hot bassist who was so bad at doing stuff besides being hot they made him face the wall (via @sockpuppetdynasty)

crying what why isn't this in any of the photos

#why was john so easy to manipulate he attracted the oddest people around (via @belatedbeatlemaniabesetee)

#Neil Aspinall Mona Best affair knocked me over. and then basically picking the Beatles over Pete? Boy.. (via @harddaysnite)

here's Stu Sutcliffe blair witching it

I think Paul tells the story in Anthology that they were having promotional photos taken but he and John were so paranoid that a music professional would notice Stu's bass was tuned incorrectly/his hands were badly positioned for the key he was tuned in that they had him hide it#i don't know enough about how guitars work to explain or better remember what Paul said lol#it was cool though john and paul were very dedicated to their craft#stu. wasn't. and they kind edged him out (via @thisbird)

seen plenty of stuart photos but not this one yet thank you

Beatles lore has the best side characters. There's the snobby 28-year-old film director (illegitimate son of Orson Welles no less) who's WAY too interested in mclennon and desperately wants to put all the Beatles in a desert. There's the aspiring author who hated Paul sooooooo bad but still dated him so she could write a book where he cries a bunch and she calls him a pussy. There's an evil LSD dentist. There's Magic Alex. I could go on.

[covenofagatha]

Do I wanna know? (Part 3)

Agatha and you have a talk about the future

Word count: 4k

Warnings: 69, oral, smut, angst (hopefully not as much), why would you ever talk about feelings/problems when you could just fuck instead

“What? What part?” you ask, your voice sounding unfamiliar to your own ears. “If it’s the City, it’s fine, that’s not far away, you could even stay here.” 

Agatha purses her lips. “It’s in Albany.” 

Your stomach drops. Two hours away by car on a good day, about four by train. Agatha has a pitiful look on her face and you want to scoff. 

Of course she’s feeling sorry for you. 

“Honey,” she starts, cool and calm as ever and it makes you fucking enraged. She reaches out to touch you again — why does she keep trying to do that? why doesn’t she realize that she isn’t going to fix anything? — but you shove her aside and scramble off the couch, beginning to pace with your head in your hands. 

Is this better than the affair? She still lied to you. She still didn’t tell you about it, she’s still looking to get out. “Why didn’t you say anything?” you demand, pausing to look at her. 

Her jaw tightens. “I didn’t — I didn’t want to before it got real. I wasn’t even sure I was going to go, but my friend reached out and it’s a really good opportunity. The company took me out to dinner last night as an informal interview and I ended up staying the night. I didn’t think you’d come here, I thought you were mad at me or something. Baby, I was really worried about you.” 

In any other situation, you’d feel touched by her concern, but it really just pisses you off even more. This isn’t about you. “I thought you were having an affair,” you say again and her face falls. 

“I would never—”

You don’t even want to hear it. “Look, don’t change the subject, okay? The point is, you did this huge thing without even telling me and now — what? You’re moving to New York?” 

Now she seems unable to meet your eyes, an uncharacteristic shyness radiating off her. “I haven’t even gotten the job yet.”

Your mind starts to whirl with the possibilities. “If you get it, are you going to take it?” 

There’s a thick silence that hangs over you two for a moment and you can see the vein in her forehead pulse as she thinks about it. But her hesitation is all the answer you need. 

“Okay,” you breathe. You don’t even know where your head is at — you’re so fucking mad, but you’re also so relieved that she isn’t cheating, but then now there’s this wrench that could possibly mean the end of things. You’re not going to let that happen. Dropping to your knees in front of her and finally touching her of your own accord with your palms flat on her legs, you earnestly look at her. “We can…we can figure it out, we will figure it out. I can come down on the weekends or you can come here or — I can transfer! I’ll transfer to somewhere in New York and we can get an apartment, just the two of us, and obviously I won’t be much help with the rent because it’s expensive as shit there—”

Agatha pulls you up by your cheeks and kisses you, effectively shutting you up. You lose yourself in the feeling of her lips against yours and you moan softly, everything slipping away for just a moment. In these five seconds, it’s just the two of you and nothing else can come between you. 

But then she breaks away and sighs heavily, resting her forehead against yours. “You just started school here,” she says gently. “I can’t make you give that up. Don’t you like it?”

You shrug lazily. “It’s the first week. I’m not too attached. I’m sure somewhere there will be just as good.” 

“What about your parents? What would you tell them?” 

Why does it feel like she doesn’t want you there? You can’t help the frown tugging on your lips. “I’ll just say that I don’t like it at Westview. I’m sure I can come up with something. They’ll just want me to be happy.” Agatha makes you happy, but there’s a flicker of doubt growing in your stomach.

She cups your cheek and leans back so you’re able to see her eyes. They’re blue as the ocean, full of emotion, and glassy. “Why don’t you give it a few months, hm? I don’t want you to throw away your school and your family just for me. If you really don’t like it, then we can talk.”

“What if I just drop out of school and become your trophy wife? I’ll be such a good one, I’d wear nothing but an apron all day and make your favorite foods and then I can sit on your strap while you eat dinner.” You play it off like a joke, but deep down, you would be more than willing. You hope she says yes. 

Agatha huffs out a laugh and sniffs, tracing a finger down the skin of your face like she’s trying to memorize it. “Wear a short little maid outfit that just happens to ride up and show off your bare cunt when you’re on your knees cleaning the floor?” 

You hum and close your eyes in pure bliss at the thought. “See, now you get it. It would be so perfect, right? 

“So perfect,” she agrees, but her smile lingers until it’s wistful. There’s a longing pang inside you, one that threatens to tear you open, but you push it down. “I know I haven’t gotten it yet, but I won’t take it,” she says quietly after a moment and your brows furrow in confusion. “If you don’t want me to take it, I won’t.” 

Every single morsel of your body is screaming for you to ask her to stay. It would be so easy, and then you could just pretend that none of this — the suspicion, the lies, the sneaking around — never happened. Everything could go back to the way it was before. 

But the slightest fear that she would start to resent you for it creeps into the back of your mind. Sure, she might not mind at first, but over time when her job here gets old and she’s unhappy, she’s going to blame you. She’s going to start to hate you for holding her back, and what if you’re not worth it? 

The last thought hits you like a punch to the gut. Are you enough to keep her content if she stays? Are you enough to keep her happy? 

You’re paralyzed and she’s looking at you expectantly, like it’s an easy fucking decision. You want to complain that it’s not fair for her to put this on you, that she should want to be with you so badly that she willingly gives up the new position for you, but maybe she’s having the same doubts.

The only thing you know is that you don’t want to end up like your parents, with a loveless marriage and a cold, empty house despite the family living in it and the bitter silence of words left unsaid haunting every moment. You don’t want this to become an open wound that festers until Agatha hates you for it. 

“If it’s a better job and if you want it, you should take it,” you say, almost surprised by how eerily calm your voice sounds. 

Agatha looks taken aback for just the slightest moment but nods. “You’re sure?” 

No! Stay with me! I fucking love you! 

“Yeah,” you rasp and she bends down to kiss you again, so sweetly that it hurts. She murmurs something against your lips but you don’t even think to ask what she says because you can’t stop the nausea climbing up your throat. 

You jump back and run to the bathroom before vomiting in the toilet. You sink to the floor, shaking and sweating and trembling, and you’re vaguely aware of Agatha’s hands in your hair, holding it back, and telling you that everything is going to be alright. Is it?

She gets a wet washcloth and holds it against your head while you don’t move from your position, waiting to see if you have to puke again. 

“Had too much to drink last night,” you mutter, feeling like you’re drunk all over again, when she asks if you’re feeling okay. “Thought you were cheating.”  

You hear a heavy sigh behind you and tears prick your eyes. Is she disappointed? Does she think you’re being just a stupid kid? “I wouldn’t, honey. I wouldn’t do that. I promise. I—” She stops and strokes your hair instead.

It feels like there’s something she’s not saying, but maybe you’re just reading into it. 

And then there’s your I love you while she was fucking you, still fresh in your mind. Do you say it again? Do you ask if she heard it? Or just wait until she says it first?

If she does. You can’t get these stupid insecurities and doubts out of your mind and it’s killing you. 

“Do you feel like you’re going to throw up again?” she asks gently and you shake your head. “Come on, why don’t we get you into the shower and then into bed?”

You want to protest just to be petulant, but you’re just so fucking tired. “Okay, mommy,” you say and she sharply inhales, but pretends to be unaffected. Good to know that you can still get to her after you look like you’ve just been through hell. 

She turns the water on and you numbly wait until she guides you up and helps you undress before you step into the shower. You almost buckle to the ground but Agatha holds you up, the sleeves of her blazer getting soaked, but she doesn’t even notice it. 

It’s an awkward position, her on the outside of the tub and you barely standing up inside it, but she rubs your skin and you slowly feel warmth returning to your body. 

You’re about to ask if she’ll get in with you — you see the way she can’t stop looking at your tits and you’re suddenly longing to feel her on you, a reminder that she is yours — when a phone rings. 

Definitely not yours; your phone is always on silent. 

Agatha curses and tells you she’ll be right back before disappearing from the bathroom. The cold feeling starts to grow back in your stomach, creeping up to your throat and gripping tightly. 

“Yes — this is she!” you hear her say from the other room, her voice getting louder as she comes back into the bathroom. You look at her with wide eyes and she gives you a tight smile. “Oh, I did? Well, thank you very much, that is wonderful news.”

The person on the other line starts talking and you can only catch quick muffles of it, but from Agatha’s face, you already know. 

“Of course, yes, hang on just one second,” she says and presses her phone against her shoulder to give you her full attention. Eye contact with her feels like a stab to the gut. “Honey, are you sure you’re okay with this? You can say no.” 

Can you? 

It’s on the tip of your tongue — it would be so easy to ask her to turn it down, so easy to ask her to choose you. She’s waiting for an answer but each drop of water on your skin feels like a chant: no. no. no. You know Agatha’s trying to remain neutral, but you can tell she wants the job, by the way she’s twitching her fingers and the barely concealed pleading look on her face and the way she’s holding her phone so tightly it’s making her veins pop out all bluish and purplish. 

It’s clear that you cannot say no. 

You’re not sure she would ever forgive you, and you’re not sure you would ever forgive yourself. You can’t ask her to throw away this opportunity, not for you. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you say hoarsely, feeling a lot like you just signed a death warrant. 

But plenty of people do long distance, and two hours really isn’t that bad. Plus it just means that with all the waiting, the sex will be even hotter. Her moving away doesn’t mean anything. 

And you can transfer at the end of the semester, so really you just have to make it a few months. 

Agatha’s beam is one of pure gratitude and you know you made the right choice, but she’s back to talking on the phone and your little moment is interrupted. “Oh…two weeks? Of course, I can totally do that.” 

A flash of panic bolts through you and you mouth two weeks? at her. She purses her lips and shrugs apologetically, like that’s supposed to make you feel better. 

The rest of her phone call is blurred out by your sudden inability to hear anything but the rush of the water that has suddenly become so loud it’s taken over all your thoughts and you don’t even realize that she’s hung up and cleaned you off and gotten you out of the shower until you’re shivering and naked and Agatha’s wrapping a towel around you. 

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay,” she murmurs because you’re now uncontrollably shaking and you think you might be crying a little. “Everything’s going to be okay.” She presses kisses to your forehead and cheeks and nose, muttering the same sort of sentients, while the towel around you slips to the floor when you throw your arms around her and cling to her like she’s your lifeline, like she’s everything you’ll ever need, and she holds you back so tightly you think you might fuse into one being. 

The two of you stand there like that until your skin gets clammy and pruney and your eyes are raw. When you finally pull back, your muscles ache and the front of Agatha’s clothes are absolutely soaked, so you tug on them until she gets the message and begins to strip. 

Her blazer comes off, and then she untucks her blouse from her pants and slowly begins to unbutton it, each time revealing more of her perfect pale skin. You can see the faint outlines of her ribs and then her stomach, the red bites from two days ago still there, albeit faded. 

There’s no mistaking the “M” though. A hot thrill runs through you despite the solemn air between you and a fire starts to flicker to life in your stomach. You reach out to trace your mark as if in a trance and Agatha’s breath hitches. 

Swallowing roughly, your eyes dart up to meet her already-dark ones. “We should talk about the job, right? Figure out what it means for us?” you ask, but even as the words leave your mouth, you can feel the atmosphere shift into something else. 

“Right,” Agatha nods, but she can’t stop looking down at your pebbled nipples — from the cold or from her? 

When she surges forward, clasps your cheeks, and pulls your mouth to hers, you know that it’s both. The kiss is messy, teeth knocking against each other and her tongue invading your mouth and breathing each other’s air, and you wrap your arms around her neck to bring her even closer. She didn’t get to take her pants off yet, but it feels absolutely delicious when she slides a thigh between yours and you grind down onto it. Your nipples brush against the fabric of her bra and you can’t help but moan into her open mouth. 

Fire roars beneath your skin, spreading to all over your body, and you suddenly just need more. You need her to overwhelm all your senses until you can’t fucking think about anything else, not the job, not her moving, not the fact that you could’ve stopped this but didn’t — you just want her. 

She grabs onto your hip to guide you against her leg and you whine as she sucks on your tongue. Her other hand comes up to cup your right breast and roll your nipple and you mewl and jerk against her. She tugs and it feels directly connected to your cunt because you pulse and it only gets worse when she flexes her thigh underneath you. 

“Bed — bedroom, please,” you choke out and her mouth doesn’t leave yours, walking you backwards into the bedroom and not stopping until the backs of your knees hit the bed. 

Agatha pushes you down onto it, the duvet beneath you instantly getting wet from your dripping pussy, and she shimmies off her pants and underwear and sinks to her knees in front of you. It’s a sight to behold, her looking up at you from the floor like she wants to devour you, like she would hang the stars and the sun in the sky for you and it still wouldn’t be enough. The power running through you from the heat in her eyes and the ragged heaving of her red chest and the way she tosses her hair over her shoulder is enough to drive you mad. 

“You’re so perfect,” she breathes and it only makes you wetter. You buck your hips against the bed, trying to get some stimulation to your now-aching clit, but it’s not even close to enough. 

But it’s not even five seconds later when she leans in, inhales the scent of you deeply, and then drags her flattened tongue through your folds, making you keen and arch your back. She is so good with her mouth and she never fails to remind you. 

“Fuck, Agatha,” you gasp, and you usually don’t call her by her name during sex, normally opting for mommy, but you need the intimacy right now. You need to feel like this is real. 

She groans into you and teases her tongue around your clit, never quite touching it, and you bury your fingers in her hair and gently pull on it. Her eyes flick up to yours as a warning and you loosen your grip. Agatha gives you an almost imperceptible nod and rewards you with one long lick to your clit and your head falls back. 

You can no longer hold yourself up when she thrusts her tongue inside you, and you fall back onto the bed, instantly clenching around you. She feels so fucking good, her tongue curling inside your cunt and her nose brushing against your clit, and you angle a leg up on the bed so she can reach deeper inside you. “God, yes,” you sigh, and your orgasm is slowly starting to build up with each roll of your hips and each time your stomach tightens. 

But something is missing — you can’t help your thoughts from straying and you just need more. 

So you stop her and she looks up at you, the entire bottom half of her face and nose absolutely covered with you. Your clit throbs and you sit up.

“I need — I want — wanna taste you too, Aggie,” you whine and you’ve never used that nickname before, but you think she likes it because she lunges up, capturing your lips with hers again, and knocking you straight back onto the bed. 

She nods while still kissing you, whispering, “Fuck, honey, how are you so hot? How are you so perfect for me?” 

You clench around nothing and you claw at her shoulder blades frantically, knowing what you need but not how to ask for it. 

But Agatha knows — she always knows what you want, except for when it really counts apparently. She gets off of you and scooches on her knees until she’s situated behind your head, facing your body. And then she moves to frame your face with her thighs, her glistening cunt hovering right above your face, and she bends over to pry your legs open before leaning down and sucking on your clit roughly. 

You squirm and palm her ass to pull her down to your mouth, and at your first lick through her folds, she moans right into you, the vibrations making you jump. Eating her out while also being eaten out is an experience like no other you’ve ever had. Every single thing you do to her affects her, which in turn, affects you. 

The positive feedback loop has both of you sloppily mouthing at each other’s cunts, mimicking motions while also losing all sense of rhythm, and when she digs her fingernails into your thighs and scrapes her teeth against your clit, you let out a high-pitched sound that has her riding your face furiously. 

Agatha is getting louder too — you can feel it more than hear it, and you are completely drunk on her smell and her taste and how good she’s making you feel. You dip your tongue into her entrance, stroking against her convulsing walls before swirling around her clit and she pauses what she’s doing for a moment to just breathe heavily against your pussy before diving back in. 

All thoughts of anything else are completely out of your foggy mind and you feel like you’re floating, not able to focus on anything else besides Agatha. 

If you would’ve known that your dad having an affair would have led to you having the hottest sex with the hottest woman ever, you definitely wouldn’t have been so mad about it. 

“Oh, god, baby, you’re so good,” she says into your cunt and it only makes you grind up harder. She matches your intensity, riding your face fast, her clit dragging against your tongue. You groan in agreement and her stomach glides against your nipples while hers do the same and you know that it won’t be long before either of you cum. 

She nips at your inner thigh before plunging her tongue inside you and it has your hips bucking. “Fuck — Agatha,” you cry, barely able to keep eating her out because of how stimulated you are. Pleasure is racing through every ridge of your body and your head is spinning. 

“That’s right, honey,” she pants, lathering her tongue all over your clit. “Cum for me.” 

The tension inside you snaps and you cum, riding out the immense wave as she continues lapping at you and you suck on her clit, triggering her own orgasm. There’s a gush of wetness all over your face and she keeps rolling her hips, chasing the last tendrils. 

That was one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had, you think, and when Agatha flops down onto the bed next to you, breathing heavily, you think she might agree. 

“Fuck,” you say, completely wiped out, and Agatha chuckles weakly in response, reaching a hand out to rest her fingers against yours, not quite interlocking them. The two of you lay like that for what feels like forever, just soaking in the silence and the comfort of being right next to each other. 

You’re not sure who moves first — maybe it’s a mutual decision, but eventually you slide up to the pillows and Agatha turns around and moves next to you. Rotating onto your side, you hear the sheets rustle behind you and right on cue, Agatha’s arm snakes around you, holding you close enough to her that you can feel her heartbeat against your back and her breath on your neck. 

She kisses the top of your ear and you snuggle back against her. You know that you should put on clothes and clean up your mess, but for right now, you just need to feel her against you. 

“We’re going to be okay?” you ask timidly. It seems like it was so long ago that you were spiraling out of control because you thought she was cheating. 

Agatha’s arm tightens around yours. “We’re going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay.” 

And you think you might actually believe her. 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @vyvvycg

[talkingaboutmybullshit]

quick unedited thing i wrote after i saw a bitches love me tiktok about Tim in the 90s. And kinda a response to a lot of fandom tim thinking he’s a loser that hasn’t dated or slept with anyone when canonically he’s had like 20 live interests.

“Why are you asking boy Virgin over here?” Jason said

“Jason don’t be mean,” Dick chided

“What because it’s true,” Jason flipped Dick off

Tim couldn’t hold back a snort.

“Why the hell are you laughing like you’ve gotten laid ever in your life?”

“Did you forget that him and Steph dated for a year,”

“I don’t think I was there for that? Is that why she hangs out around us because she dated the shrimp? She’s to cool for him.”

Tim made a so so motion with his hand “Officially for like a year ish. Then we kinda had this on and off thing for a few years after that. Though she wasn’t the only girl I got with during that time. I was actually dating another girl when I first got with Steph,”

“How the hell did you get not one but two girls interested in you?” Jason asked “How the hell did you even have time for that?”

“Look when I was Robin and in high school I had a lot more extra time than I have now,” Tim explained and then scrunched up his face at the memories “and that wasn’t one of my proudest moments,”

“Honestly I don’t know how you can even keep track of how many people you been with,” Dick rolled his eyes “I swear you were talking to another girl every week before you got with Bernard,”

“Oh I got a spread sheet,” Tim answered non chalently

“You got a whole ass spread sheet?!?” Jason said

“Yeah,” Tim at least looked sheepish

“Why?” Jason ask

“Well back in high school me and my friends were talking-“

“You have friends?” Jason asked

“Well back in high school at least I had a decent amount. Then I dropped out and went around the world looking for B. I kinda got out of touched with them. You know the normal post high school kinda stuff,”

“Totally,” Said the guy who died Freshman year of high school

“Anyways,” he rolled his eyes “They were asking me how many girls i slept with and honestly I didn’t know off the top of my head. So I went home, started a list. Then that kinda morphed into a spread sheet because that’s easier to manage than like a google doc. Then I was like well I have a spread sheet I can document like umm,” he looked away trying to figure out how best way to say it without being to crass “bases and stuff I got to. Then I kinda just kept up with it over the years. Started a guys data section too since bases work a little differently and-“

“You’re a freak, of course you have a spreadsheet about your sex life,” Jason said “forget I said anything and never answer questions about sex again,”

“Gladly,” Tim shakes his head wanting this whole thing to be over

“I’m surprised you didn’t know this,” Dick said “Not the spread sheet thing but Tim ummmm…”

“Apparently getting with everything that moves,” Jason answered

“Yeah that,”

“Hey!” Tim objected “I do not. Plus I think the worse of it was when Jason wasn’t around. I had more time when I was young,”

“Dude you’re still like 20,”

“Plus I got a boyfriend now so I’m settled downed. I’m busy with work and being a vigilante,”

“Never stopped you before,”

Tim cringed at that “ok high school me wasn’t the best but-“

“When the fuck did you get a boyfriend,” Jason, who just had his twentieth revelation about Tim that hour, asked

“Oh a while ago when I rescued him from this pain cult,” Tim waved him off “we were friends in high school and reconnected after that. Really I think he brings out the best in me-“

“Meaning he hasn’t gotten bored yet from a lack of adrenaline and gone on to the next person who catches his eye,”

Tim huffed “I do not want to hear any slander from the guy who fumbled Starfire,”

“You fumbled Superboy,” Dick said

“When did you even get Superboy?” Jason exacerbated by Tim’s way to messy love life. Maybe the spread sheet was necessary. Jason at least needed a time line to get this straight.

“There was nothing even going on there!” Tim said

Dick turned to Jason to answer this question “Superboy was Tim’s first gay situation ship,”

“Was not!” Tim fought back

Jason groaned accepting he opened Pandora’s box of Tim’s messy love life.

[its10pm]

Michael Afton Headcanons

Just a fun headcanon dump to get into the writing mood :) These are super random though. I think I'm possessed.

Mike is a huge pirate fan. He wanted to be a pirate until he was 8 (which is when he wanted to be an astronaut).

His favorite food is lasagna (his mom's is the best).

He's super tall and has always been super tall. The coach ran him down to play basketball his sophomore year of high school.

He's been working for his dad since he was seven. By the time he's in high school, he can basically run any shift by himself.

His best classes in high school are gym, physics and art class.

He would eat at least two full boxes of pizza per day, if he were allowed to.

He's really good at all of their arcade games. His highest score is in Pac-Man, though.

He's super scared of heights.

He went to a British primary school in London before his dad moved back to Utah when he was 6.

He "learned" how to play the electric guitar when he was fourteen. "Learned" is doing a lot of heavy lifting, because he can only read tab and really only learned riffs and some easy AC/DC songs.

Somehow, he's still able to impress people, even though he is clearly just abusing a whammy bar.

He plays basketball, football and baseball. He likes sports because he means he's home less.

He really likes cars a lot. He suped up his truck's engine when he was 16 and has almost wrecked it in races with other high schoolers multiple times. But car stuff is how he bonds with William, Henry and Ralph.

He's been smoking since he was 11. William doesn't really care, as long as he doesn't steal his.

He spends a lot of time taking over house activities for his mom, when she's too tired to get out of bed. This has made him a pretty good cook, though.

He's kind of a cool guy in school, but he's sort of seen as a 'bad kid' and a 'huge asshole', so he's definitely got a smaller group of friends. This is fine, because he's kind of a loner anyway.

He gets pretty good grades, except for in English class (he has dyslexia).

He has a pretty huge crush on Maria Rodriguez. He embarrasses himself to try and impress her a lot.

When he was thirteen, he broke his arm wrestling the school security guard to impress a girl. His friends have not let him live this down.

When he was fifteen, he drove into the school's gym while trying to show his friends a sick car trick over the weekend. His father has yet to let him live this down.

He and William fight a lot. I mean, most of the time. But they're kind of similar people, with similar senses of humor and some overlapping interests, so sometimes they can have friendly conversations with each other.

Mike likes gossiping with his Aunt Vangie (Henry's wife) and his mom.

When he was fourteen, he made up a game of throwing up lawn darts and having the neighborhood kids catch them. This was stopped after a few too many close calls.

He also made a game of rolling kids down hills in tractor tires. This was only stopped after he got bored of it.

He's the kind of guy that punches wholes in the dry wall.

He used to BMX, but Chip is way better at it, so he gave that dream up because he hates being one-upped by his own posse.

He doodles sometimes in class. He likes to impress girls by drawing them. He also likes trying the Fazbear band. A lot.

Foxy is his favorite animatronic. He ships him with Chica.

He rough-houses with Evan and Elizabeth. A lot.

This includes farting on their heads and forces them to smell his arm pit.

He cackles.

He's a cool guy, so he sneaks out to go to parties a lot.

Sometimes this means stealing William's nice cars, which he will always end up regretting.

He likes watching soaps with his mom.

He's the best of all his siblings of picking up his room.

His room is full of posters of hot supermodels and Playboy models, by the way.

He's given all of the animatronics personalities. Bonnie's is the malevolent, in his view.

He's very violent and gets into physical fights with others a lot.

Big undiagnosed bipolar disorder energy.

He chews gum all the time. Literally all the time. It's very annoying.

He had a Mormon baby blessing, but he was never baptized.

He gets invited to church activities sometimes. People almost always regret it.

He dresses in the more general, 80s rock 'n' roll, hair metal style, but he is a goth rock lover.

His middle name is James.

He smokes weed sometimes. But he mostly just drinks.

His mom's parents live in Virgin. He doesn't visit them that often, even though they're kind of close, because William is embarrassed to be associated with them. He is the oldest of their grandchildren, though. (Teen pregnancy things.)

He was sent to a pretty extensive psychiatric programme in Draper after killing Evan.

He graduated high school early.

[yunazxxx]

BUT I’M SO OBSESSED WITH YOU — L.R

plot is kind of based off of fear street 78’

genre? : smut, with a murder and obsession plot

now playing : I’m so crazy for youuu </3 by rebzyyx

this content contains the following : obsessive, possessive, psychotic!lara (obviously), killing mention, kind of cheating but not so much?, kinda angst, smut warning, blood mention, g!p lara, heavy etc warning.

author chats?: okay don’t look at me like that.. i have other fics to finish but!! i lit rewatched this movie a while ago and wanted to make this so badly like <///3 so here we are. — certain parts of this is corny as SHITTTTTTT. but i’m not rewriting this for a while. — daniela is cindy… (im sorry but nor sorry…)

word count? : 4.0k

—

the day began as normal as you'd expect a day at camp to go, you decided to go on a walk along the campsite, talking with your friends.

while they walked along the trail, lara and daniela (in place of cindy) came from the dining hall and were talking about god knows what.

you didn't bother to pay them any mind, or well “them" as a whole, but you would sometimes pay lara a little mind.

but of course, it wouldn't be anything more than just the basic student and counselor relationship. they got along fairly well, like she did with all of the campers.

today just, felt, different though. it was like the atmosphere was off, in all honesty it felt like something was bound to happen.

you continued on walking though, and your friends disbursed into their own cabins while you walked to yours.

you heaved a heavy sigh before sitting on your bed, and lying back first. you would run your fingers through your hair, and and close your eyes.

you couldn't really change where your mind was going, in fact, you were only thinking about, lara? it felt weird, to say the complete least. you weren’t so cool with daniela, but you two also weren't on the worst terms.

you could really only sigh, if it wasn't the issue that they had with being camper and counselor, then it was definitely the relationship.

you always tried your best to just hide it but almost always having to be around her made you fall in love with her more, but were you to blame?

i mean, she was innocent, caring, really loving and kind. if you were to be honest with everyone, including yourself, you would get jealous seeing daniela and her hold hands as often as they did.

yeah, she wasn't yours, not yet at least, but to see her with another girl, fuck you hated it so much. you would sometimes would end up stumbling across her and dani while they kissed, but you would walk off and pretend like nothing happened.

they never knew though, they didn't ever mention it. you would always end up punching a wall though, never being able to come up to lara and tell her how you really felt.

you was easily caught up in your thoughts of lara, not hearing the door being knocked on. the quiet knocking quickly became louder and snapped the girl out of it.

you got off of your bed and opened the door, and speak of the fucking devil, "heyy! we missed you today in the dining hall, what happened?" lara asked you.

you had an insane impulse to just pull her into a kiss, but she was also holding direct eye contact which would've made it much more enjoyable —

but to say what didn't need to be said was that you didn't go through with kissing her but instead came up with some random excuse as to why.

and she, of course, bought it because, why would she not? you mentioned having an upset stomach, so she offered to go and get you some medicine and you gladly accepted.

something that was an important mention was that you loved seeing her run, but it was more than just loving her form but you genuinely enjoyed watching her run, you found it attractive, for some reason.

not long later she did return with the medicine, also with a few other items for you. she took some of the medicine while she demonstrated how to use it, and would also give you some water.

you would, of course, thank lara and she would get up to leave, and you let her go but it seemed once the door closed you were completely losing your mind.

you wanted, no, needed lara as yours. you swore to do everything in your power to make that possible and finally have what you deserved, or felt you did.

but it wasn't like a normal crush, one you’ve already gone through the getting to know them, already gone through the getting closer phase, basically every single phase that was required, you and lara had already done it.

but it wasn't like she could be alone with you for more than two minutes because why would a counselor need more than that much time with a student alone, so you really never had the chance to ever catch her because if she wasn't attending to her duties around the capmus, then her bitch of a girlfriend daniela had her and her attention.

you never could wrap your head around what lara saw in the latina, she was so, prissy, it was annoying. they weren't really anything alike, so how they made thngs work was beyond you, but you also didn't really give a flying fuck bevause you were going to make lara yours however you really had to.

it was't like the signs weren't there, it was obvious she felt the same, the way she would smile at you, the way she would talk to you, the way she would teat you and help you, how gentle she was with you.

she was as gentle as one would be with a fresh wet painting, it made you feel special but you always knew that she was just like that. as previously stated, she was a soft kind girl.

she was the innocent, "lara raj" after all. she was the heartthrob amongst the camp. and daniela fucking avanzini was the girl to get her first.

if we were to be honest, and let the reader be honest with herself for once, she didn't really care as heavily at first because she was a taken woman after all and she respected daniela at the time, and same for lara, so she wouldnt even graze the thought of doing such a thing.

but it just seemed one day, things weren't really the same, she would watch daniela and the same feeling of respect for her superior and admiration turned to straight jealousy and envy. she hated daniela, wanted her gone to be honest. but, "gone" is the nicest thing we could say she wanted to happen to the blonde.

but in somewhat of a cliche fashion, you found yourself alone with lara. something that was decently normal between the two was that they may run into each other randomly during the day and you would come up with any excuse in the book why you might need lara to stay there for a small while longer but somene would either walk in or you would freeze up so badly that you was unable to speak or even form words together to let lara know you liked her.

the second you would get close to her, your heartbeat and breathing would pick up, something you can always recall was when she helped wake you back up with cpr after you passed out.

the world felt like it was slowing down when you opened your eyes, seeing her looking at you with that same worried expression that she has now.

"y/n?" she said, throwing you out of your daze, "what's going on? why are you in here?" the indian woman asked, her eyebrow raising. your eyes quickly scanned over her, her outift and her entire demeanor, feeling your brain cloud while you felt weaker in your knees by the second. "oh, nothing jus uhh.." your eyes began to dart across the room, trying to find something to say to evade the conversation but once you finally looked back at lara, her brown orbs were looking back into yours.

but no words were spoken, the room fell completely silent. you silently hoped that someone would walk in and ruin this slightly awkward vibe but no one came to your rescue. lara looked away from you for a second, but looked back at you. she broke the silence, once gain asking why you were here and you told the truth. you didn't really have a reason to be inside of that room with her but they always had the most privacy there compared to anywhere else.

something in your head kept yelling, telling you to tell him now before it was "too late" whatever that meant. "lara?" you called for her, and she looked at you, "yea?" she asked, and you took a slow breath. she looked at you , and she placed her hand on yours.

you looked down at your hands, then back up at her, and her eyes were softy looking into yours and she nodded to you, reassuring you that it was okay to speak, and that you did. "i don't know how i can say this, it's hard." you said, your eyes quickly looking away from the black haired woman in front of you.

"take a breath, take your time", she smiled to you, “we have all the time in world" she said, her voice finishing off so gently. you could feel yourself melting to her touch and voice, but you knew you had to say something. "uhm. okay, see, i like you" you said, but as you finished your sentence your voice got lower to the point lara couldn't hear you.

"what was that?" she softly asked, her head tilting down with hers. she used her free hand to lift your head up to look at her.

“you can say it" she smled, god she looks so stupid. you looked into her eyes, "i like you, like i'm in love with you" you said, but quickly your speech picked up, "but i know it's wrong, you're already in a relationship and you're a consoler while i’m a camper, and you have-" she cut you off, kissing you.

her hand cupped your cheek, as their eyes closed at the same time, their lips slowly moving in sync. after a small while, they broke apart, "lara..” you exhaled against her lips after the kiss broke, and she smiled, "yes?" she answered. you were in pure shock, not being able to process what happened.

"i like you too, you know?" she said it, but so casually. "what?" you couldn't register anyhting that was happening. "wait, you like me?" she was just, surprised.

“yes! god, i could never tell you because of the slight worry you didn't feel the same" she said, keeping that same stupid smile on her face. they decided to say the magic words, "lara will you be my girlfriend?", "as long as you'll be my girlfriend" you just smiled, basking in this moment with lara.

it wasn't like something was off either, not like this was a dare or a prank to be played on you, she was being genuine. you sighed, finally feeling at peace to get that off of your chest. lara saw how late it was, knowing you should've been asleep a long time ago, so after they bided their goodbyes she went to hers and daniela’s shared dorm/cabin.

she locked the door, seeing the she was sleeping peacefully, something in her kept saying “don't have to do it, you shouldnt do it. it isn't worth it.” but it is. she walked her way to her bags, grabbing something sharp, specifically a knife with a blade of 12 inches.

the more closer she got to actally doing it, her brain screamed louder not to, but she didn't care. you see, somethig about lara is that she was definetly a character. she never really was what everyone would describe her as. of course, that was the facade she began to go by but the real lara raj wasn't all much of a saint, she didn't have good history with certain things, daniela being one of them but due to them having that dumbass "perfect couple" title, she ws forced to keep up the soft girl look, or “girl next door”.

the more she thought about how she had to hide the way he actual was and felt ever since they gaind that title, she would get more and more mad now standing over daniela, gripping the handle tighter than before. she raied the blade over her head, planning how she’s gonna through with this but deciding that this would be too messy.

so she carefull draged the sleeping girl into the bathroom, placing her in the bathtub, "damn, heavy sleeper huh?" she said, and chuckle to herself. this wasn't such a lara thing though, for one she would barely ever swear, two cause harm to someone, again she was known as someone who couldn't even harm a fly.

she held the knife again, this time pulling daniela’s face back and lining the blade with her throat. she had the knives pre sharpened before any of this, she didn't care how she had to do it, she was getting with y/n (you).

the girl didn't need any prep, and lined the blade back up, pressing her hand against her mouth as tightly as she physically could as she sliced the blade across her throat. the blood began to slowly fall down, but she did it again to ensure she was dead.

she then stabbed the blade into daniela’s throat before dragging it down through her chest, watching as the blonde woman’s blood began to stain the pajamas and their bathtub.

the redhead only continued, practically mutilating the sleeping woman’s body before coming to her senses and moved her hand off of her, looking at her handy work and smiling to herself, loving how she looked all bloodied up. she smiled watching the blood spill from her neck and the huge gash in her body, but would soon get bored of it, she would stab the knife directly into the other side of her chest, and went to wash her hands.

she changed her clothes, and went to sleep that night like nothing ever happened, which would be the case for so many days. she would live her life like nothing, ever happened, anytime someone would ask about daniela and/or her where abouts she’d would lie and say she went home early or whatever.

and what makes it better is that she got away with it for so long, she was successful until the smell began to stink up her room, she couldnt even be in there, she went to the bathroom and noticed that her body began decaying in the bathtub.

and so she decided that same night she would hide her body, she went and grabbed some bags along with rope and a shovel. it was dark out, meaning she'd need a flashlight, which always, never works out for anyone trying to get rid of a body this late.

she would contiue her stroll to the storage room, and walked inside in seach for a flashlight, which she'd find along with getting a heart attack from you randomly appearing behind her. she slightly jumped but didn't scream, "why are you in here?" she first asked, "how are you in here?" she asked another question to follow and you answered her.

"door was slightly cracked and when i walked past your room, it had a really bad scent to it" you said, hinting at the obvious stench of rotting flesh that filled her place of residence. you would just look at her, while she just looked back at you.

she sighed, "let's just say something got into my room and rotted before i was able to realize" she said, but you already knew what that something might be. it had been days since anyone had last seen daniela, and you, yourself hasn't done ayting to her so she knew it was lara’s doing but instead of it scaring you, or running you away, you instead wanted her so much more now.

"let me help get rid of it" you said, but lara shook her head, "no i don't think you should get involved" she said, grabbing the things that were needed before making her way to the door. and doing everything but listening to lara, you followed behind her and began to rapidly ask to be with her while she gets rid of the body.

it didn't take much longer before she gave in and allowed you to go along with her. she laid the body on the gound, slaminng it down due to how heavy it was and began removing the teeth fom the body. "why do you have to take her teeth out, eugh" you asked while turning away, gagging at the sight. “dental records, baby" she replied and then began to dig a shallow grave for her.

"how did you, do it?" you asked while they walked off, did you really care though? to say the least, no. but there was something about seeing her a sweaty mess while carrying the shovel while you two walked back that just made you feel insane.

"a simple slice to the throat, nothing too extravagant." she said casually, but was lying. your mouth was agape, “you slit her throat?" you asked, and she nodded.

you couldn't believe that lara, the camp’s virgin innocent princess, would murder someone, especially so off rip.

her modus operandi? love, what else would it had been? you were genuinely unable to wrap you head around the fact that she chose such an executon style, it was, attractive to you, for some reason. you loved that she killed for you, that she got rid of the bitch that you hated so much.

they didn't stop at the storage cloet to put away the stuff, instead they just took it wih them inside of lara’s place. she left all of her windows open to hopefully be rid of the stench that has now taken over her entier home.

she walked inside first, alerting you of the smell before opening the door and she went straight to the bathrom and began cleaning it.

she didn't use a lot of bleach, the smell was really obvious and intoxicationg so lara decided to use other other things to ensure evey last blood stain was cleaned.

it went as well as you'd expect any cleain proces to go, she even drained her of majority of her blood before she began to decay just incase the blood became an issue.

after she finshed cleaning the blood, she when and grabbed her a pair of clean clothes to wear and anything she’s worn in between the day daniela died until now were all getting burned.

while she was getting cleaned up, you was feeling a little silly and decided to go inside of the shower with her. she didn't hear your footsteps but felt when you got inside of the shower with her.

you didn’t move or do anything but instead stood there, partially hoping she didn't notice you but secretly hoping she did. she continued to shower like it was nothing though, but when she turned around to face you, she didn't see your face automatically and instead saw your head.

"darlin, look, my eyes are up here" she said and your eyes followed along her body, noticing her defined abs and just how hot she looked with wet hair. she held the back of your head and pulled you into a kiss, really there was no need for words, the tension was so thick it made it all so obvious.

you couldnt help but get so turned on during this kiss, you were already in love with the way her lips would move against hers, how soft but passionate she was with it, god it all drove you so crazy. you would moan into the kiss, and start pressing your wet naked body against hers, feeling her semi-hard cock against your clit.

lara broke apart from the kiss, you whining at the loss of contact but was quickly met with something better. she asked you to open your legs a bit, sliding her cock between your thighs. she held your hips and slowly thrusted her hips, you moaned lowly, you both held eye contact while she sped her hips up.

the sound of your skin slapping against each other filled the room, the water spilled down your bodies. her grip on your waist got stronger while she sped up, causing her to whimper a little while your moans quickly picked up.

the need for each other grew more and more by the second, so you both agreed fuck the shower and she brought you to her bed.

she laid you down on the bed, and began attacking and kissing at your neck. she left nice hickeys on you, your hands traveled down her body and you reached for her cock, lining her up with your entrance. she slowly pushed herself inside of you, she filled you up so slowly but fuck she had length on her.

she dragged her cock out of your cunt, before slamming back inside, she held your hips down and proceeded to slam down inside of you.

she fixed herself, sitting up completly and held your hips and began fucking into you. your moans picked back up, you were much louder than before. she kept with this pace, not speeding up but not slowing down either. she moved her hands along your body and contied thrusting inside of you, her hand stopped at your neck while she gently choked you.

the indian use used her free hand to began rubbing your clit while she thrusted. she changed their positions, now she was under you and lowering you down on her cock.

she slid back inside with ease, and grounded her feet on the bed before thrusting into your cunt. her hands began grabbing at your breast and playing with them, taking the other into her mouth.

"mmth fuck~ cumming" you moaned and unravels on her shaft, your cum coating her cock completely causing making it easier for her to slide in and out.

her cock began to twitch inside your warm cunt, the sound of your moans echoing throughout, along with her own and your wet skin hitting each other. due to the grip you had on her cock, she didn't care for anything.

she threw you back under her and forced all of herself inside of her, she put both of her hands on your neck and continued with a brutal pace, the need for each other continued to grow more by the second.

she watched as you slowly began to gasp for air, then she let go, focusing her hands elsewhere while you came once again.

she chuckled at the scene under her, seeing how much of mess you were but loving how pretty you looked while cumming on her cock.

she changed their positions again, this time making the girl sit on her cock, she held her hips and slowly guided her while rocking them.

you didn't know what to do with your hands, you loved being used by lara as a fuck toy but god you were mindless about where to place your hands.

she would hold your waist harder and proceed to slam you down in such an uneven rhythm it told you that she was close. she began thrusting up inside of you and you could feel how deep her cock was now, the bulge being seen through your abdomen was genuinely mind boggling to you.

once agains you came undone on her cock, but directly after your orgasm it followed lara’s and she slammed down for the final time before the grasp on your hips became tighter as she filled you up.

"god you sound so so pretty when you cum" lara panted out, still slowly rocking her hips inside of your tired body. you nodded weakly, not really being able to speak by this point, lara basically fucked your brains out.

she gently pulled herself out, and reached to get you a shirt. she slid on her boxers and quickly cuddled you, and kissed your forehead. they pressed their foreheads together while they attempted to catch their breath.

lara would slightly move her head to kiss you cheeks, her arms wrapping around your body, which prompted you to turn around and lay down to face the opposite on her but being directly against her chest.

she pulled you as close as your bodies would go, her arms wrapped around you gently. she pulled the covers over you, kissing your shoulder and neck gently. "i love you" she softly whispered against your sleeping figure, and a smile crept on her face.

[billiesbabygirleilish]

Billie and the reader have been friends since childhood and Billie has a huge Crush on the reader but the reader has a boyfriend her boyfriend is like super possessive and abusive like won’t really let the reader go anywhere without him and doesn’t like when the reader hangs out with Billie because he know that Billie likes the reader

Billie and her family/friends know that the reader is being abused but every time that try to talk to the reader she always brush it off and tells that they are over reacting and she’s fine one day the reader is hanging out with Billie while her boyfriend is out boyfriend come home and see Billie after Billie leaves the reader and her boyfriend get into a fight the reader the reader ends up going to Billie

I don’t know how to end this but Billie and the reader end up together

Fractured Love

⚠️Mentions of abuse/abusive relationship. Please don’t interact with this post if these themes make you uncomfortable⚠️

╭.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*╮

╰.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*╯ The scent of lavender and old books always calmed you. Billie’s childhood bedroom, with its mismatched posters and overflowing bookshelves, was your safe haven. You stretched out on her bed, absently tracing the pattern on the worn quilt while Billie fiddled with her ukulele in the corner. 

“He’s out of town for the weekend,” you said, trying to sound casual, but the tightness in your chest betrayed you. “Said he had to… help his dad with something.”

Billie strummed a discordant chord. "Right. ‘Help his dad.’ Like he ever does anything remotely helpful." She didn’t look up, but you knew what she was thinking. You knew everyone knew. The strained smiles, the subtle glances, the way Maggie hovered a little too close whenever Liam, your boyfriend, was around – it was all a silent testament to what they saw happening to you.

“He just gets… jealous,” you mumbled, twisting a stray thread on the quilt. “He just cares about me.”

Billie’s head snapped up, her blue eyes flashing. “Caring doesn’t look like telling you who you can and can’t see, who you can and can't talk to. Caring doesn't look like…” she trailed off, her jaw clenched.

You rushed to fill the uncomfortable silence. "It's not that bad, Billie. You guys are just overreacting." You forced a laugh, though your voice wobbled. “I’m fine.”

Billie slammed the ukulele down on the floor, the sound reverberating through the small room. "God, why do you do this? We just want you safe! He’s isolating you, (Your name), are you blind?"

You flinched. “Don’t yell,” you whispered, your voice catching.

Billie’s anger deflated, replaced by a deep, aching worry. She sat beside you on the bed, her hand hovering over yours. She didn't touch you. Not anymore. Not since Liam had made his feelings about your friendship with Billie crystal clear, with words that still echoed in your head.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "Just… I hate seeing him control you like this. You’re not fine. You haven’t been fine for months." Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a small, smooth stone, a piece of sea glass she'd found on the beach. "I… I brought this for you. Said it reminded me of your eyes."

You took the sea glass, its cool surface soothing against your palm. "Thank you, Billie."

Later that afternoon, Billie walked you to your door. As you were unlocking it, Liam’s car pulled up to the curb. He’d come home early.

“Hey,” he said, his voice clipped. He glared at Billie as he approached. “What’s she doing here?”

“Just… hanging out,” you stammered.

“She knows you’re busy. She knows you’re with me.” His eyes narrowed. “Does she even have any respect?”

Billie’s jaw tightened. "I was just leaving," she said, her voice even, but you could see the tension in her shoulders.

As Billie turned and walked away, Liam grabbed your arm, yanking you inside the apartment. The door slammed shut behind you. It wasn't the first time you had been dragged inside. It wasn't the only form of abuse you had endured from him.

The argument started small, a simmering resentment bubbling to the surface. But it quickly escalated, his words sharp and cruel, his grip on your arm painful. You tried to reason with him, to appease him, but nothing worked. He accused you of lying, of flirting, of… who knew what else. Your voice rose as you fought back, tears streaming down your face.

"Just leave me alone!" you finally screamed, pushing him away.

He recoiled, his face contorted with a rage that frightened you. "You think anyone else will want you? You think Billie gives a damn about you? She's just… using you. Playing you for a fool."

The words cut deep, even though you knew they weren't true. The anger drained out of you, leaving you hollow and trembling. You couldn't breathe.

"I'm going to be sick," you choked out, pushing past him.

He let you go, and you stumbled out of the apartment, running blindly until you reached the familiar haven of Billie’s house.

You pounded on the door, tears streaming down your face. Maggie opened it, her expression immediately softening when she saw you.

"Oh, honey," she murmured, drawing you into a hug. "Come in, come in."

She led you to the living room, where Billie, Patrick, Finneas, and Claudia sat, their faces etched with concern. You collapsed on the couch, sobbing uncontrollably.

Billie knelt beside you, her hand finally finding yours. Her touch was grounding, a lifeline in the storm. "What happened?" she asked softly, her voice laced with worry.

You told them everything. The possessive control, the constant criticism, the outbursts, the fear that had become your constant companion. You spoke through sobs, the words tumbling out in a torrent of pain and relief.

When you were finally done, the room was silent. Finneas squeezed Claudia's hand, his face dark. Patrick just nodded, his eyes filled with a quiet fury. Maggie sat beside you, stroking your hair.

Billie’s grip on your hand tightened. “You don’t have to go back there, you know.”

You looked at her, your eyes red and swollen. “But… where else would I go?”

Billie hesitated for a moment, then met your gaze with unwavering intensity. "You can stay here. With us. We'll protect you."

The offer hung in the air, a glimmer of hope in the darkness. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. Leaving Liam meant stepping into the unknown, but staying meant… more of the same.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Okay, I'll stay."

The next few weeks were a blur of healing. Maggie’s gentle care, Patrick’s quiet strength, Finneas and Claudia’s unwavering support – they all helped you piece yourself back together. You started therapy, learning to recognize the signs of abuse and to rebuild your shattered self-esteem.

But it was Billie who made the biggest difference. She was there for you, always, a constant presence in your life. Late-night talks under the stars, walks along the beach, quiet moments spent reading together in her room – she created a safe space for you to be yourself, to laugh, to cry, to simply exist without fear.

One evening, as you sat on Billie’s bed, listening to her strum a new song on her ukulele, you realized something had shifted. The fear was still there, a lingering shadow, but it was no longer the defining force in your life. You were starting to see yourself again, to remember the person you were before Liam had chipped away at your spirit.

Billie finished the song, a soft melody with heartfelt lyrics about resilience and hope. She looked at you, her blue eyes filled with something that made your heart skip a beat.

"Do you… do you feel safe here?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. "More than I've ever felt."

She reached out, gently cupping your cheek. "Me too," she whispered, her gaze locked on yours.

And then, she leaned in and kissed you. It was a soft, tentative kiss at first, but it quickly deepened, a rush of long-suppressed feelings finally breaking free. It was a kiss of comfort, of safety, of longing, of hope.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and trembling, you looked at Billie, and for the first time in a long time, you saw a future. A future free from fear, a future filled with love, a future where you could be yourself, completely and unapologetically.

It wasn’t a fairytale ending. There would still be challenges, still be healing to do. But you knew, with a certainty that settled deep in your soul, that you weren't alone anymore. You had Billie, her family, her friends - a whole world of love and support to guide you. And you knew, with equal certainty, that you were finally on the path to a life that was truly your own.

[transmcytshowdown]

Joel Smallishbeans^4:

Submitted for: Hermitcraft, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life, Empires SMP Season 1, Empires SMP Season 2

Headcanons: Transmasc, he/they; Trans man, he/him; Genderfluid, any pronouns; Trans masc, it/he/she; Transmasc Genderfluid, he/any; Identity not specified, they/he

Propaganda: “He’s just a silly little terracotta man with only a vague understanding of human gender he tries to impersonate but fails at.”

“Lizzie and Joel are a t4t bi4bi couple in [the submitter’s] heart. Lizzie transfem (she/her) Joel transmasc+gender fluid (he/any).”

“Basically anywhere you see him. Just like, the constant ‘Ooh i'm so manly, the manliest, I’m so tall and strong and handsome,’ and always insisting that he’s really tall despite being super short and the way his voice will sometimes get all high and squeaky these are all very transmasc coded things. He’s one of us, okay, he’s got the vibes, trust, he’s got our humor. Every time he goes mining on Hermitcraft there is always a caption that’s like ‘straight white male mining content’ which is more of his constant need to assert how macho and manly he is and in double life he says he’s not going to get in the pool cause he’s ‘ashamed of his Minecraft body’ which is very trans behavior. He’s got that confidence he can wear a dress for mcc and still know he’s a man which is very transmasc cause other men just got handed it, but we afab men have to look at masculinity and go ‘yeah that’s me’ and then make sure everyone knows it like that’s how you know being trans isn’t a choice because men kinda suck and I still went out and actively was like um guys I’m actually a man sorry. Some days he’s cool with just throwing gender norms out the window and some days he feels the need to yell for the whole world and the next couple galaxies as well to hear that he’s DeFiNiTeLy NoT WeArInG a CoRsEt GeM. Can you tell [the submitter’s] projecting? Cause [they’re] projecting. You can pry this headcanon out of [their] cold dead hands lol.”

“He has fluctuating chest dysphoria so sometimes he doesn't bind and sometimes he does. His bad dysphoria days are rare enough that he's not gonna bother with top surgery.”

“Transmasc Joel Smallishbeans is everything to [the submitter] and [the submitter] like[s] to think that forming the bad boys is what made him plug the tv back on and turn the brightness to the max, like he went ‘Oh we’re bad boys?? Guess I’m finally a boy now!”

“Nonbinary bad boy Joel except he is not a boy.”

"First, [the submitter] think[s] she was raised as a gender that just. doesn't exist here. She was raised in Mezalea where how gender works is just. different and, because she has a beard, everyone assumed she was a man but she's NOT and in recent years has been figuring out her own identity and pronouns in a way she hasn't ever thought about before and also she and Lizzie are butch4femme, amen. Or bi4bi. Both? She’s a masculine person and she likes stuff like the bad boys because it's more of a title separate from her gender. She’s just a masculine woman, amen.”

“He's a sopping wet tanooki (cat /j) and [jizzie] are t4t bi4bi coded.”

“Joel hasn't been called girlfriend/wife/girl by his friends for NOTHING. Bro’s the definition of gender and he slays in a dress no matter what (in Minecraft and in irl)."

Joel Smallishbeans^4:

Submitted for: Hermitcraft, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life, Empires SMP Season 1, Empires SMP Season 2

Headcanons: Transmasc, he/they; Trans man, he/him; Genderfluid, any pronouns; Trans masc, it/he/she; Transmasc Genderfluid, he/any; Identity not specified, they/he

Propaganda: “He’s just a silly little terracotta man with only a vague understanding of human gender he tries to impersonate but fails at.”

“Lizzie and Joel are a t4t bi4bi couple in [the submitter’s] heart. Lizzie transfem (she/her) Joel transmasc+gender fluid (he/any).”

“Basically anywhere you see him. Just like, the constant ‘Ooh i'm so manly, the manliest, I’m so tall and strong and handsome,’ and always insisting that he’s really tall despite being super short and the way his voice will sometimes get all high and squeaky these are all very transmasc coded things. He’s one of us, okay, he’s got the vibes, trust, he’s got our humor. Every time he goes mining on Hermitcraft there is always a caption that’s like ‘straight white male mining content’ which is more of his constant need to assert how macho and manly he is and in double life he says he’s not going to get in the pool cause he’s ‘ashamed of his Minecraft body’ which is very trans behavior. He’s got that confidence he can wear a dress for mcc and still know he’s a man which is very transmasc cause other men just got handed it, but we afab men have to look at masculinity and go ‘yeah that’s me’ and then make sure everyone knows it like that’s how you know being trans isn’t a choice because men kinda suck and I still went out and actively was like um guys I’m actually a man sorry. Some days he’s cool with just throwing gender norms out the window and some days he feels the need to yell for the whole world and the next couple galaxies as well to hear that he’s DeFiNiTeLy NoT WeArInG a CoRsEt GeM. Can you tell [the submitter’s] projecting? Cause [they’re] projecting. You can pry this headcanon out of [their] cold dead hands lol.”

“He has fluctuating chest dysphoria so sometimes he doesn't bind and sometimes he does. His bad dysphoria days are rare enough that he's not gonna bother with top surgery.”

“Transmasc Joel Smallishbeans is everything to [the submitter] and [the submitter] like[s] to think that forming the bad boys is what made him plug the tv back on and turn the brightness to the max, like he went ‘Oh we’re bad boys?? Guess I’m finally a boy now!”

“Nonbinary bad boy Joel except he is not a boy.”

"First, [the submitter] think[s] she was raised as a gender that just. doesn't exist here. She was raised in Mezalea where how gender works is just. different and, because she has a beard, everyone assumed she was a man but she's NOT and in recent years has been figuring out her own identity and pronouns in a way she hasn't ever thought about before and also she and Lizzie are butch4femme, amen. Or bi4bi. Both? She’s a masculine person and she likes stuff like the bad boys because it's more of a title separate from her gender. She’s just a masculine woman, amen.”

“He's a sopping wet tanooki (cat /j) and [jizzie] are t4t bi4bi coded.”

“Joel hasn't been called girlfriend/wife/girl by his friends for NOTHING. Bro’s the definition of gender and he slays in a dress no matter what (in Minecraft and in irl)."

[mayhemchicken-varneyposting]

Regarding your tags on the relationships post about if you want to talk crossovers too, how do you see Varney with the Harkers too in your scenario? given among other things their feelings towards vampires and vampire-hunting humans respectively? Mina is a strange case of someone who has been one foot on both worlds, who lost someone to a vampire, but she also knows his despair and spiraling well. Jonathan has been both vampire victim and vampire killer, but only met ones he ended up hating (sans his wife). An interesting mix!

The inbox is treating me so well lately.

Varney and the Harkers is a fun dynamic because the Harkers have never before met a vampire who is just an absolute clown at vampiring. Their initial intense suspicions of him cool rapidly when he panics at Jonathan's giant knife, tries to jump out the window and fails, then nearly passes out from hunger. Once they've sat down to talk to him a bit I think they'd be sympathetic; his situation would feel like a window into what nearly happened to Mina. Far from Dracula's enthusiastic sorcery and bloodthirst, Varney is just saddled with vampirism and has to deal with it. Mina "mercy kill me if I turn" Harker would relate to how he feels.

The poor dear. He doesn't like to shed blood, he's constantly being pursued by mobs and/or dying various horrible/embarrassing deaths, he struggles to keep himself fed...being a new vampire must be so rough. Wait, what do you mean he's 500 years old.

(The Harkers, nerds that they are, would be very interested in all the stories he has to tell. Although no one is more interested in the stories than baby Quincey, who has decided the funny long man is his new favorite babysitter.)

Meanwhile Varney, who is still lowkey scared of Jonathan due to a) him clocking Varney as a vampire on sight and b) the giant knife, doesn't want to impose on this set of young parents, no really you do NOT have to offer me blood I'll be fine I can stand [nearly falls over again]

...too late, pal, you've activated the Harker pack bonding instincts. They WILL offer you their guest room after a brief misunderstanding where they debate for 5 minutes about how to obtain proper grave soil while you attempt to explain that you would rather sleep in a bed. And then the next thing you know you're friends with all their friends and you babysit their child twice a week and they're inviting you over for Christmas dinner.

Varney can try to run away from his fate but the next angry mob will coincidentally wash him up on their doorstep again, and the final straw will be learning how much Quincey missed him while he was gone.

(He's conflicted. He remembers killing his own son, or he thinks he does. How can he be trusted around this boy? ...How can he bear to disappoint him?)

And that's how Varney becomes an uncle!

[milkymora]

left ✧ tsukishima kei x fem!reader ✧ smut ending

note: beware of the ending, it sucks. i wrote this at 4am and realized i was making it way longer than intended so i tried to give it a decent end (failing). it’s also not really proofread so beware of terrible writing & hideous grammar too lmao. mdni.

tw: drunk sex. oral (both r! & tsukki! giving and receiving). fingering (r!receiving).

“so,” tsukishima spoke next to you in a low voice, so that only you could hear it, stopping your zoning out.

you turned your head to him, the voice of the others fading into background noise. “mh?” you hummed, with your cheeks still full of food, inviting him to go ahead.

“how did you sleep?” he smiled, perhaps trying to sound somewhat innocent, although you understood immediately what he was hinting at.

playing it cool, you swallowed your bolus.

“pretty good. what about you?” you held the fork in your hand, partly covering your lips; something you had the habit of doing when eating in company of others.

for a moment, you left your eyes wander on his lips as he spoke.

“amazingly.” he responded, shoving a forkful of the pasta on his plate in his mouth. you watch the way his adam apple moves when he takes a swallow, thinking, for a moment, that that’s how it might’ve looked like yesterday, when he had his tongue inside your mouth. your eyes ajar slightly at the memory of how it felt.

though that wasn’t the place, nor the moment, to think about such things. you weren’t alone.

of course he didn’t really give a shit about it.

“everything alright?” he asked you, seemingly amused.

he knew what you were thinking about. it was written all over your face. or perhaps you were like an open book to him.

or, perhaps, he knew it because he was thinking about it too.

you cleared your throat, fixing your position on your chair, that was suddenly so uncomfortable. “yes.” you murmured, unable to hide your shame in being so goddamn obvious.

“huh? couldn’t hear you.” he leaned in to you, a grin from ear to ear that you wanted to smack away like never before.

“yes.”

“y/n, you look a little red.” shimizu pointed out, almost making you jump. you hadn’t notice her looking at you. was she listening to what you’ve been saying?

“ah, am i?” you nervously laugh it off, low key cursing your friend in your head for saying something like that out loud so carelessly.

“totally. here,” she chuckled, opening a bottle of water and pouring some into your glass, “have this.”

“should’ve given me some wine instead.” you laughed, drinking the fresh water in your glass. you weren’t one to drink, but it could’ve helped to ease up a little.

“hah,” tsukishima scoffed, “you? drinking?”

you turned your head to him again. “yeah,” looking right into his eyes, you grabbed the bottle of red wine the waiter brought on the table a couple moments prior, opened it, poured some into your glass and slowly consuming it, never detaching your eyes from his. “drinking, like this. what about it?” you deadpan.

and he didn’t as well. he kept eye contact all the way, until you put the glass back on the table, which made it way harder for you not to turn red. “nothing. can i have some too, miss?” he asked, that arrogant smile never leaving his lips.

“sure.” filling his glass to the brim, you mimicked his tone of phrase. “as much as you want, sir.”

“get a room, you two!”

the both of you whipped your heads towards the voice it came from, finding a little yachi looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “seriously.” she added after seeing your shocked faces, a smirk you’ve never seen on her doll face.

heavy silence fell between you two as you noticed that also daichi, sugawara and shimizu were peering at you with what looked like amusement on their visages.

kei cleared his throat with a cough that sounded vaguely forced and went back to eat, before attempting to change the subject.

you still noticed the subtle blush on his cheeks, though.

apparently, you weren’t the only one who wasn’t expecting the others to have heard your interaction.

“any, uh..” he drank another glass of wine, licking his lower lip, where a drop was starting to slide down his chin, “any new about the team we’ll play against after winter break?” he inquired, a question thrown in the air to be answered by anyone, but he specifically looked at daichi for a response.

“nope, nothing. they’ll let us know on monday or close.” daichi spoke with his typical fatherly voice. “m’kay.” dryly replied the tallest, pouring himself yet another glass of wine.

“woah, slow down, tsukki. leave us some.” yamaguchi chuckled, teasing his friend. “he’s right. at least ask us if we want some as well.” you joined in.

tsukishima huffed. “anyone who wants a sip?”

everyone shook their heads. everyone except you.

“me.” holding the glass between your index and middle fingers, you slid it towards his direction.

he looked at you, and wordlessly filled it halfly. as he was placing down the bottle, you grabbed its neck.

“don’t be stingy.”

an inquisitive stare began showing on his traits, looking at you in such way you didn’t know how to interpretate.

you wanted to ease up. and it was doing the job amazingly. so much, that you didn’t even realize you were slowly getting light headed.

seeing he wasn’t budging, you sighed. “c’mon, just one more glass. i know what i’m doing.”

“do you?” he pried, that tint of concern that made those butterflies dance in your stomach every time.

“mhm.” you pointed your half filled glass with your chin. “don’t be boring. you’re not my dad.”

he kept still a couple more seconds, but, in the end, he gave in, adding another two inches of the fruity liquid, which you wasted no time bringing to your lips to relish it fully.

your throat burned, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling.

the others had returned to each minding their business, when shimizu offered to go outside to smoke a cigarette. it wasn’t her habit at all, nobody’s habit in your group, however, just like it wasn’t your habit to drink, she wanted to do that in that social situation.

after all, a cigarette wasn’t gonna kill anyone.

just like another glass for you, you thought.

most of the members got up from the table, basically everyone. shimizu was the only one who wanted to smoke, along with yachi and asahi, but they hall felt the urge to go outside to take a break of fresh air and stretch their numb limbs, that had been sat down for a good hour now.

which left you, tsukishima and other members who were too far from you to be minded at all, alone in that big table.

a sigh flied out of your lips, the afterstate of the alcohol lingering in the walls of your mouth. without thinking twice, you grabbed the bottle once more.

“you shouldn’t do that.” his tone reverberated in your ear, like a warning.

“i’m still doing it–” you began, “then fill mine too.” he interjected before you could finish.

you rolled your tongue on your teeth within your closed mouth to hide the grin that threaten to betray your pokerface you’ve managed to hold for quite awhile.

you filled his glass, after you did with your own.

“cheers.” you lift your glass. he meets it, then a ‘clack’, and you’re both shoving the booze down your throat once again.

“you know,” you start, your inhibitions fading away every seconds that goes by. “i’ve bought you something.”

“me too.” he stated, unfazed, placing down his glass. he shifted his position on his seat to face you, moving his right elbow over the chair and his left one on the table.

“oh?” your heart fastened. “what is it?” you question.

he fidgeted with his black tie. “i’ll show you later.” he murmured.

“what? no, you can’t tell me this after you’ve made me curious!”

“oh, i can.” his foot gets between your legs the moment you move to face him as well. your breath cut short at the gesture, without really opposing to it.

“why?” instead, you ask.

“because. don’t insist.” he slides up his foot, reaching your knees.

instinctively, you close them, squeezing the tip of his shoe between them.

his gaze falls down. “what are you doing?” you question, tightening your squeeze as you feel his shoe trying to move forward. “we’re not alone.” you alert.

your statement makes him go quiet, getting lost in his own thoughts briefly.

“would you let me do it if we were alone then?” his tone cuts short too, his ears turning peach.

“do what?”

it was useless to lie or play stupid anymore. you knew what he wanted to do, god, everyone noticed the sexual tension since the beginning of that dinner.

and you wanted too. still, you needed to hear him say those dirty words. you wanted to see for how long he could keep going, before giving in. because, as much as you wanted, you were not gonna give in first.

“say it.” you loose your squeeze a little, just to make him come closer your crotch. after a couple more inches, you tighten the squeeze again.

his chest rises and falls at the view, unable to unlock his gaze from your thighs, his cheeks now visibly red, a mixture of the alcohol and excitement. “hey, now,” his whisper closer to a whine. a beg.

the sound of a door being opened and voices chatting in the distance made you snap away, pushing his leg away from your body. “uh—” he jumped backwards, gripping the chair’s backrest as to not fall down.

without being given time to realize, your friends had returned to their little outside break. kyoko, daichi, tadashi, sugawara and yachi all went back to their respective seats around you and kei, along with the other guys at the other end of the table.

“my god, you actually finished the whole bottle?” tadashi lifted the empty bottle with his hand, shocked to see not even a drop was left at its bottom.

you raise your face to him, taken aback by his sentence. “i’m so sorry– i’m gonna buy another one for you only, guys.” you looked at the bottle, noticing just then that you seriously finished a whole bottle with him in less than an hour.

“no! no, it’s fine.” yamaguchi laughed, ashamed. “i didn’t mean to actually make you feel bad, sorry.” he scratched the back of his neck, flashing you a sweet, displeased smile.

“i don’t care, i’m buying it anyway... i genuinely didn’t realize.” you got up from your seat, your purse in your hands. “be right back.”

quickly, you pulled your coat over your shoulders, heading towards the bar at the other part of the restaurant, crossing the hall hastily.

you walked up to the bartender, ordering two more bottles, each with a different flavor as to accommodate to your friends’ personal tastes.

as you wait for the barman, who has went to grab the bottles in another nearby room, you feel a pair of hands go to lay on your shoulders.

“sly, smart girl.” tsukishima whispers in your ear.

heath spreads all over your body as his warm breath tickles your ear. you grab his hands and place them on your hips.

“finally noticed, huh.” you whisper back, leaning the back of your head on his shoulder. “took you long enough.”

his thumbs draw circles on your hips, pulling them against his groin, his head buried in the crook of your neck.

your eyes widen when you sense his erection on your ass.

“give it to me.”

and that was all you needed to hear to let go of that last drop of dignity that the alcohol hadn’t taken away from you still.

“there you go!” the bartender returns to the bar, the two bottles you’ve ordered in his hands. but the girl who had come to take the order is not there anymore.

your back hits the cold tiles of the restroom aggressively, legs hooked around his waist as he holds them up in place with his hands, fingers digging into the naked flesh of your thighs.

“hey-” you gasp, out of breath, as his tongue slides up your neck, sucking on its sensitive skin to leave red hickeys all over it, making your eyes roll back in ecstasy. “take those off,” you ask, no, beg, tugging pathetically at his boxers with pure need.

his pants are scattered on the floor, his boner throbbing into his now too tight underwear, rubbing against your covered clit, soaking those poor panties to the point of wetting his underwear too.

his head moves away from your neck in hearing your request, strings of saliva rolling his chin from both corners of his mouth, to watch your face.

“no, you take them off.” is his only reply, dropping you down from his hold and taking a step back, standing still in front of your hyperventilating, messy frame.

your eyes fall down on his bulge, staring at it for so long he begins to chuckle. “first time seeing one?” he asks.

you don’t respond. instead, you take a step closer, kneeling down, so that your face was right in front of it. your hands are shaking mildly, but his legs are as well, so you’re not too bashful about it.

“first time seeing yours.” you murmur, feeling your chin being lifted of a couple inches, his thumb on your lower lip.

“suck it.” he moves his finger upwards, into your mouth. you suck on it for only a moment, feeling it leave your mouth almost immediately.

“no,” he laughs under your confused face, “not this one.”

your fingerstips curl on the fabric of his underwear, as your lips start printing slow and wet kisses on his pube, slipping them down. your hand goes to grab the shaft, while your tongue slides down, beginning to suck on his balls.

you stroke his dick up and down multiple times at a slow pace, before sliding your tongue from his shaft to the tip, finally taking it into your mouth with a hum.

your hands caress his tense abdomen, his thighs, his hips, as your tongue runs all over his veins, your head moving back and forth in smooth movements.

his hand goes on your head, guiding your movements, hissing pleased sighs with clenched jaw, fighting the urge to pull his dick down your throat further.

you take it out your mouth to slap your tongue with it, whilst continuing to stroke it with your hand. when you’re about to start sucking it again, he moves backwards, his back hitting the door.

“i wanna do that to you,” he pants, going to grab your triceps to pick you up from the floor.

you place your hand on his nape, jerking his face towards yours to kiss him avidly, tongue seeking his. he doesn’t pull away for a hot minute, until pushing you on the toilet, spreading your legs and kneeling down between them so rapidly you can’t even think straight anymore.

you watch as he removes the remaining cover up of your pulsating pussy, wasting no time and burying his head between your legs, lifting them over his shoulders and beginning to lick your entrance with such energy you find yourself struggling to stay put.

“fuck,” you throw your head back, your clit swelling up as his tongue stimulates your good orgasms, making you forget everything else, even the public place you’re having sex at.

“feeling good?” he questions, hot breath against your cunt causing shivers to roll down your spine. “yes,” you cry, pushing his head against you, “keep going,” you hiss.

soft moans fill the room as his middle and ring fingers penetrate you, curling into your morbid walls, sloppy sounds so awfully good to hear growing as he fastens his speed, making you go nuts, moaning and whimpering like the slut you were for him.

tsukishima knew you were nearing your climax when your breathing began so fast you sounded like you were crying, begging to go faster, and faster, and faster—

two knocks on the door. then a phrase.

“guys, are you done fucking in there? we’re about to go.”

spoke a voice you haven’t heard well enough to recognize who it belonged to from far behind the door.

you were a total mess, dripping liquids from your freshly fucked hole, with your shaking legs still around his neck.

and he wasn’t any better, being completely naked, crouched in that filthy bathroom floor with the taste of sex in his mouth and his sticky fingers and upright, sore dick.

you looked at the door, then at each other, a mixture of fear and frustration on both your messed up faces.

another voice laughed from behind the door, “y’all did get a room in the end.”

this time, there were no doubts whose voice that was.

✧ previous

[sir-myst-cake]

First post on here and it's a rant!! If you want more cool takes you should totally follow me as I'll be posting here more often and have totally cool art to share‼️‼️

I'm not completely sure how to tag this? I'm talking about the ships in a positive light so I think it's okay, and besides, I want lots of peeps to see it, I'm aware I probably won't change many people's minds at all, but it's okay lol, I just want Anti's to see they genuinely have a nothing burger and need to leave people alone.

This is a mostly TikTok only problem regarding Beast x Ancient's (thank god) but I've seen my fair share elsewhere like on here. So lemme counter every argument I've seen so far cause you got a lot of time on your hands to be telling people to off themselves over Cookie ships 😭 put that hate into people who actually deserve it.

BILLFORD COMPARISON

Regarding ShadowVanilla specifically, people have compared the ship a lot from both sides, but what really got me is what I've seen here:

"Shadow Milk Cookie is way worse than Bill! He drove Pure Vanilla to insanity! He tortured him!"- This is in regards to how people bring up the fact Anti's are fine with one thing but not the other when it's basically the same thing they're against. Psychological, physical, mental, and emotional torture. I'll be honest I haven't watched Gravity Falls whatsoever, but my friend has, and from what she says, yeah Bill is the definition of a cruel and unusual punishment. He's done some crazy things, absolutely heinous, might even be a little worse than Shadow Milk or on the same level, either way though-

You can't like one thing and then not the other, it's different flavors of the same thing, it's hypocritical. Either you hate them both or you hate neither.

"Those are 2 different fandoms!"- Doesn't matter, it's the same thing, just different media, it's not different whatsoever aside from the universe, there's much torture involved on both ends.

ABUSER X VICTIM

This one I've seen A LOT and I'm just ??

"If you ship Beast x Ancient's you support Abuser x victim btw"- That's a STRETCH. You are reaching FAR. Nobody is romanticizing the abuse, nobody is normalizing it, it's stuff that happened in canon and we acknowledge it but nobody is doing any of that other stuff. I'm not condoning anyone in real life to do that shit lol. It's called exploring, they have an interesting dynamic, romantic or platonic, two sides of the same coin. You can say the same thing about horror movies, they put a lot of disturbing stuff in there. Do the movie producers CONDONE any of that stuff? Obviously not. Goes for Devsisters too, they don't condone body mutilation yet they still made Burning Spice rip off Cheese's wings.

But even so, for the people who DO like it for the angst, I won't say fiction doesn't affect reality because it does in many cases, but this isn't one of them. Not every relationship is going to be peachy and perfect, just like in real life. I can give an example on this one too actually.

GoldenLily, they aren't condoning what Lily (technically) did to Golden Cheese's kingdom, but they like it for all the potential, complicated feelings and emotions that come along with it.

Also, that's basically the same thing with Beasts x Ancients, just turn it around to enemies to lovers.

"This isn't Villain x hero, this is abuser x victim"- Are you saying MOST of media is abuser x victim then? This is in fact a typical hero x Villain trope, it's nothing new. Respectfully, you guys freak out when a Villain does villain stuff, I'd be surprised if there was a villain who DIDN'T cause any trauma for the opposing party. But according to this logic, media is just dead, no more fanfiction, no more what ifs, no more content since it's all apparently problematic and not canon. Even if somebody switches stuff up in an AU, and makes things completely fluffy, that's apparently still not enough.

"oh you had to make an AU to ship them because you know it's toxic"- No, it's just playing around with scenarios. Learn to separate fanon from canon. This specifically goes for the redeemed AU's I see of the Beasts, people still complain, they act as if people can't change. One of the biggest examples I have of that is FlutterCord, Discord did plenty of messed up things, but in the end, he still managed to change. You'll still get burned at the stake for it though.

"You must be an abuser yourself to condone this!!"- Extremely disrespectful and a WILDDD take. Need I say more??

"I ship Beast x Beast rather than Beast x Ancient's"- According to your logic, the Beasts are abusers right? And if we followed the same story, they are not mentally well whatsoever. You'd rather ship 2 dangerously mentally unstable characters together who'd just make each other worse? Destroy each other? Fuck each other up beyond belief? It doesn't make sense does it, nor is it fair for y'all to praise these ships but hate on the others. You like watching the cookies crumble huh 😭

CANON

"The ship isn't canon!"- We know that, everyone should know that. With what I said earlier, please learn to separate fanon from canon. That's what a fandom is, we do non-canon stuff, it's very fun, you should try it.

"It's a Proship/Dark ship!"- Going the canon route, Beasts are Eons old, Ancients are thousands of years old. Big gap yes, but nonetheless all of them are old as fuck. Older than bloodlines. Treating the Ancients as if they aren't grown adults. You're intentionally trying to make it weird. Stop calling ships you don't like proships please.

Also a little off topic but please don't listen to everyone you interact with on TikTok?? I remember one time I was scrolling through a comment section and saw somebody say "Doesn't Mystic Flour Cookie hate Burning Spice Cookie?" On a MysticSpice vid, looked in the replies, somebody asked for proof/where it was implied, and they didn't answer 💀 just blatantly spreading misinformation. Sources around you are way more reliable than people who don't back up their claims.

CONCLUSION

Even despite all this, you still have the right to feel how you wanna feel. Just please stop harassing people for simple stuff like this, in all honesty, I feel like it's more about seeing one of your favorite characters shipped with somebody who hurt them in canon that makes peeps upset. Which I can totally understand because I used to be exactly like that, I LIVEEEE for Dark Cacao Cookie, when Mystic Flour's update came out, I wanted her dead. Quite literally blocked someone because I couldn't stand seeing their MysticCao art. Hated what she did to my baby boy fr.

But then It started growing on me, over time, I just realized it was never that serious.

Even so, notice how I still didn't go out of my way to harass said person about it because I specifically didn't like it? It really is that easy. Block and go about your day.

I also suspect this because of stuff like this 💀

Love that person who replied, but it's not that hard y'all. We all can in fact, get along.

ANYWAYSSSS thanks to those who took the time read, I love you my pookies hope you have a good day or night💕💕

[zepskies]

Aww thanks for the shoutout, my friend! This format for HCs is just so fun, right? It's really cool for me to see how it's caught on in the fandom of Jackles characters! And now, I'm very excited to dive into some Valentine's Day fluff. 😍😍

Dean-o:

Dean isn't big on Valentine's Day and romance. Not because he thinks it's an unnecessary holiday invented by greeting card companies, but because he genuinely doesn't know how to be romantic.

Oooh this is so true for Dean. He's only had like, what, two real relationships in his life? With Lisa, I feel like we got a sense that they were loving partners, but the show didn't dive all that deep into what their relationship actually looked like romantically. (One of my biggest gripes honestly. Outing myself here: I shipped Dean x Lisa hard back in the day and was heartbroken when they broke her and Dean up and wrote her and Ben out of the show the way they did. 😭)

But anyway lol, back to your lovely headcanon. I love this because Dean really does show that he cares in his actions -- not in big grand gestures, but in the little every day things, as well as in the way he would protect and care for his girl, "taking care of you when you're injured," etc.

What a lovely turn in the ending though!! He decked out the Dean Cave, I love it!! 😍 That's a big gesture he could 100% pull off. 💕

Ahaha not him getting flustered because he's not used to being given unconditional affection. *breaks my heart and knits it back together at the same time* 🥹

Benjamin:

LOL "old school" is an understatement with this guy for sure, but it very much tracks that he'd go all out for V-Day. He's got money to burn, and I feel like he'd enjoy trying to impress his girl with all the fanfare of a beautiful night out. (I explored that idea in Lost on You for sure.)

💀💀 omfg you nailed him there. 💯 😂

Dear lord I get so freakin' weak for the hand on the small of the back. 😭 plss

But I cacked at the "not being an award for bad acting." 😂😂 Ben does have that old-school charm in spades though, so I don't blame her for letting some of that caveman mentality go. lmao

However this:

omfggg Ben. So accurate, and somehow it's still sexy 😅 (there might be something wrong with me. It's fine.)

I also like the contrast between Dean's card and SB's card at the end -- Ben's not asking questions. He's more straightforward and demanding that you're his. 👌🏽🫠

Beau Beau:

Awww sweet cowboy sheriff. 🥹 He really is making up for past mistakes and going all out!

LMAO I loved this entire section for so many reasons -- Beau's southern charm and chivalry, the good dose of realism coming from the reader, plus that one at the end making me cackle. 🤣

I really like how she manages to surprise him back though. What a perfect gift for Beau, giving him quality time, and some peace and tranquility. 💗 I would love a lakehouse cabin getaway with this guy. Feel like that would be the perfect cozy vibes. ❤️

Russ:

Very on-brand indeed that he's the one you can't quite pin down (at first). 😅 His job really would make things difficult to make a relationship work, even with the reader soldiering through and trying to be unaffected that she thinks he won't be around for Valentine's Day.

His homecoming is so very sweet though! What a lovely reunion moment. 🥹

I loved ALL of these HCs, Wayne, but I'm torn between Dean and Beau on this one. So very sweet for this hopeless romantic!~ 💞

Headcanon: Valentine's Day 💕

(Dean Winchester // Soldier Boy // Beau Arlen // Russell Shaw – Edition)

Prompt: How would your favorite men surprise you for Valentine's Day?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader // Soldier Boy x reader // Beau Arlen x reader // Russell Shaw x reader

Warnings: +18 for some language and spice, tons of fluff, a smidge of angst

A/N: Something sweet to sweep you off your feet for the most romantic day of the year 😉 Happy early Valentine's from me, my loves 💖 (And big thanks to the lovely, amazing @zepskies 💜 for starting this trend in the first place. It's addicting 😂🫶)

Dean:

Dean isn’t big on Valentine’s Day and romance. Not because he thinks it’s an unnecessary holiday invented by greeting card companies, but because he genuinely doesn’t know how to be romantic.

You’re aware of this and don’t care if he surprises you with a big gesture. Because truth is, Dean’s romantic when it comes to the little things.

You don’t care if he brings you flowers because he brings you your favorite take-out order when you so much as mention that you’re hungry.

You don’t care if he gets you a card because he gets up in the middle of the night and saunters all the way to kitchen to bring you a glass of water when you tell him you’re thirsty.

You don’t care if he gets you chocolate because he creates personal mixtapes for you with songs you said you liked during random drives.

He listens to you. He holds open doors for you. He protects you. He keeps you calm. He takes care of you when you’re injured. And he loves you with every fiber of his being.

So, really, you don’t care if he makes a big deal out of one random calendar day a year or not. It doesn’t prove his love for you – the little things do.

However, you’re still sweetly surprised (and moved to tears) when you find the Dean Cave dipped in the warm glow of fairy lights and candles.

He’s picked out your favorite chick-flick and your favorite snacks.

He opens his arms with a big, cheeky grin and invites you into his snuggly embrace on the couch.

There’s a box of chocolates on the coffee table, a few of them half eaten, and a note that reads: I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is. Be mine?

You smile and kiss his scruffy cheek. “Always.”

Flustered, he smiles, cheeks tinged pink, and kisses your crown. “Happy unattached-drifter-Christmas, sweetheart.”

Soldier Boy:

To say Ben’s old-school when it comes to romance would be an understatement. While the rest of the year his bedside manners leave much to desire, he strangely shines on Valentine’s.

Mostly, because he knows sex is a given on this holiest of holy days. No sickness or period can stop him.

If you accidentally died, you’re even sure he’d pull a full Weekend at Bernie’s and have a night out with your corpse.

First, he surprises you with a delicately wrapped gift on your bed: a tight-fitting, beautiful emerald evening gown and the matching lacy lingerie set.

Of course he got you underwear, even though he won’t mind if you don’t wear anything at all under that dress.

He then takes you out to the fanciest restaurant in the city, where he reserved a private room away from all the other commoners.

His attention is only on you.

He praises you all night long and gives compliments as if he's never done anything else his entire (long) life.

He orders the most expensive bottle of wine and the best steak and makes sure you know that it is.

He encourages you to play footsie under the table with him before he slips the heel off your foot, and your toes massage the growing bulge in his slacks.

He holds your hand in public and protectively guides you goddamn everywhere with a palm on the small of your back, showing you off like arm candy – the trophy wife.

Sure, you could protest and critique his… traditional views.

You’re not a fucking award he’s won for bad acting!

But your cheeks flush furiously every single time he brags boisterously about you to anyone who will listen. And those who don’t listen are forced to listen.

But you can’t deny it feels good to be so wanted, so desired.

When you come home at the end of the night (with a fucking horse-drawn carriage no less), Ben can barely keep his large hands from roaming your curves. You know he expects his reward now for being the best possible lover ever.

On the kitchen island, you also find a huge bouquet of red roses waiting for you. You can barely appreciate its beauty before the zipper in the back of your dress slides open. Well… rips open.

Between the thorny stems, there’s a card attached, too. It doesn’t read “Be Mine,” however.

Nope, it says, “You are mine.”

And you know he fucking means it.

Beau Arlen:

Your favorite cowboy sheriff will pull out all the stops as soon as the calendar on his desk reads February.

He doesn’t wait for D-Day either. Every day for thirteen days straight, there’s a little surprise waiting for you when you get home.

Your favorite flowers, your favorite meal, your favorite movie, a framed picture of you and him from your first vacation together, a necklace you saw in an antique store you mentioned in passing…

Some might say he’s a little overcompensating.

But Beau has made mistakes in his past, especially on the relationship front, and will be damned if he hasn’t learned from them.

So, he will make sure you feel wanted and loved till the day he dies, even though you keep repeatedly telling him he doesn’t need to make a fuss about Valentine’s Day.

Really, you’re good with picked flowers from the garden.

But Beau’s stubborn and won’t be discouraged. The southern gentlemanliness is rooted deep within his heart and soul.

This day is all about his endless love for you.

Honestly, the sheer amount of everything makes you even slightly uncomfortable. It might sound dumb, but how could you ever compete with that level of commitment?

There ain’t enough blow jobs in this world to make up for his devotion to you.

But on the big day itself, you are actually the one who surprises him with a romantic weekend trip to a cabin in the mountains and excellent fishing spots close by.

You know the biggest gift you could give him is some peace and quiet, time for himself, and a listening ear because he will surely talk the entire time about God and the world while you’re stuck on a boat with him.

But on the night itself, when you give him your gift, he’s actually speechless. Tears brim in his green eyes because you thought of him.

He’s moved, and it moves you.

Because, after all, to you, there’s no bigger gift in this world than his smile.

Russell Shaw:

You don’t expect much when Valentine’s Day looms in the distance. In fact, you don’t expect anything at all.

You’ve only been dating Russell for a couple of months now, and you barely ever see him. Your time together mostly consists of text messages, late night phone calls, and the occasional video chats.

You know his job is complicated. You know he can’t be around as much, even though you direly wish he could.

On the morning of the dreaded day, you receive a simple text message:

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart! I’ll call you later!”

You hate to admit it, but you feel a little disappointed – disenchanted even. You don’t want to make a big deal out of it because it’s a stupid, unimportant almost-holiday.

All day long, you curse the greeting card companies and the poisonous claws of consumerism for making you care in the first place.

You’re a strong, independent woman. You shouldn’t need a man to give you flowers, gifts, or attention to feel appreciated.

Still…

As you park in the driveway after a long day at work where you watched your colleagues fawn over the bouquets they received from their partners, you feel disheartened when you still haven’t even gotten your promised phone call.

Russell always leaves you wanting more… That can both be a good thing and a very bad one.

But as you close the car door, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You all too keenly pull it out and pick up, almost dropping it because your hands are jittering with excitement at this point and your heart is pounding furiously.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Russell greets you on the other end, the deep timbres of his voice sending immediate shivers down your spine. “You home yet?”

All your worries and sorrows are instantly forgotten when you hear the big smile on his freckled face that he’s surely carrying.

He’s worth it, you remind yourself, even when it’s not easy. Life is not always rainbows and butterflies.

“Uh, almost. Unlocking the front door as we speak,” you tell him.

“Sorry I couldn’t call you sooner. Was stuck on a plane. Long flight,” he says mysteriously. You don’t even ask at this point. You know he can’t tell you.

“No worries. I was busy, anyways,” you lie and hope he buys your nonchalance. “Anywhere interesting you are now?”

“You could say that, yeah…”

“Well, if you hold on a second, I’ll slip out of those clothes and make your evening even more interesting with some pictures,” you tease flirtatiously and push the door open to your dark apartment.

The light switches on by itself, though. You blink in surprise before the phone falls out of your hand when Russell beams broadly at you.

“As much as I love getting your dirty little photos, I think I prefer the real thing tonight,” he says slyly.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” You surge forward into his strong arms so forcefully you almost tackle him to the ground, your hands slinging around his neck. If you could keep him caged there forever, you’d be fine with it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” Russell says with a warm chuckle and claims your lips in a searingly passionate kiss that shows you just how much he’s certainly missed you too. “Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Hope you enjoyed these little snippets, friends! Do you agree with these? 😉

I legit stole Dean's half-eaten box of chocolate and the Forrest Gump note from another fic of mine. I couldn't resist. I can totally see him doing something silly and cute like that 😂

Happy Valentine's 💕

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[spencewalterreid]

Family Tree (Intro)

part 1. part 2.

Summary: Deeply religious 6-year-old Ethel Cain grapples with her turbulent home life with the help of her best friend, Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Spencer Reid / Ethel Cain (p, young age)

Category: Angst, hurt/comfort. Some fluff.

Warnings: brief sexual scene but not exactly smut, cigarettes. Please see master list for overall warnings for the whole series.

Word Count: 4.5k

Author's Note: Those of you that have been paying attention to my recent posts know I'm starting a new series: Preacher's Daughter. Essentially, a chronological account of Ethel Cain's life, with the addition of best friend Spencer Reid. First couple chapters are going to be strictly from Ethel's point of view, but once we get to Western Nights, it'll start flipping between Ethel's POV and Spencer's POV, which will be trying to solve the case of the adrenaline-fueled murders of Willoughby and Ethel as they traverse the west coast. I understand this probably won't be as popular as the Spencer-centered fics, but I hope you guys stay with me!! This was really fun to write and I have a feeling it will only get moreso <3 Please let me know what you think!! Leave as much feedback and as many suggestions as you please, they really help me out. Feedback from you guys is what keeps me going. With all that being said, enjoy the first chapter!

July 8, 1972

It gets hot in Alabama. Blistering, really. Ethel writhed in the grass, trying to find a spot that was still cool, damp from the morning dew. She’s lying under an oak tree in the yard in front of her father’s farm house, mud pressing itself into her white sundress. She’s drenched in sweat, which she thinks might be contributing to the ever-increasing dirt patch under her. The grass tickles the backs of her shoulders as she turns on her side toward the boy beside her, folding her hands under her head.

Spencer had been her best friend since she could remember. She met him when she was two, her mother would tell her. Back then, his hair was always combed back, the curls politely laying into one another. Now, eyes closed and a faint smile on his lips, his hair was wild, brown chunks across his forehead and the ground behind him. His arms were out next to him, fingers splayed against the soft greenery. He’s gotta be hot in that, she thinks, observing his short-sleeved button-up shirt and long, tan pants.

Hearing the shuffle of the grass, Spencer turns toward his companion and attempts to open his eyes, but quickly squeezes them shut again to shade himself from the sunlight with his left arm, then cautiously tries again. He succeeds, gaze landing on the gaunt girl.

“What are you thinking about?” Ethel asks, voice soft.

Spencer shuffles back into his previous position for the most part, but leaves an arm across the upper half of his face. “I dunno,” he sighs. “I’m thinking I don’t wanna get up tomorrow morning.”

Ethel frowns. “What do you mean? We have to. Church is tomorrow.”

“I know that,” he groans. “But I have school on Monday, and it sucks to cut the weekend short,” Spencer replies. “Just because you get to sleep in every day…”

“I don’t sleep in,” she counters with a pout, admiring the soft slope of his chin and the bristle of his shirt in the passive breeze. “Daddy gets me up every morning no later than 8.”

“I have to get up at 6,” he whines, “and my mom never wakes me up in the mornings.”

“That’s because she’s got the devil in her,” Ethel whispers solemnly. “His voice keeps her up at night, so it’s hard for her to wake up.”

Spencer turns over completely this time, still shielding himself with his hand, but looks hard at Ethel. He fights the urge to roll off of his shoulder which is now digging into the hard ground. “I wish you’d quit saying that.”

“Daddy says she’s got the devil in her,” Ethel repeats reasonably, nodding to herself. “It isn’t her fault, Spence, Lucifer can tempt anybody.” She reaches a hand out to touch his shoulder. “It’s okay,” she smiles. “I’ll keep praying for her, and-”

“Ethel!”

She snaps upward and Spencer quickly follows suit, catching sight of her father looming at the end of the porch, frightening and large, thick arms folded across his chest. “You have no right to be touching my daughter like that, boy,” he shouts, stomping down the steps and crossing the yard to the tree. Spencer scrambles up to his feet, glancing back at Ethel for a moment before her father’s firm hand is covering Spencer’s small bicep.

“He didn’t do anything, Daddy!” Ethel cries, standing up as well to try to pull Spencer back.

“It’s okay, E, I’ll-”

Her father shoves a hand against her chest, knocking her to the ground. “You mind your business, child, I’ll deal with you shortly,” he spits, glaring down at her before dragging Spencer behind him, across the street to his house.

***

July 9, 1972

The church is packed like a can of sardines. In a town like this one, everyone goes to church. It’s non-negotiable. Ethel sits in the second row back, twisting in her seat to try to get a look behind her. Spencer isn’t here yet. On any other day, Spencer would attend with the Cain family, but given her father’s impressive ability to hold a grudge, it didn’t surprise her when he failed to offer this morning. It’s 9:32, two minutes past the time Pastor Dan would start service.

“Quit ‘yer squirming,” Dad demands, a tight hand on her shoulder to pull her back down to her seat.

“Spencer is late,” she whispers, talking to herself more than her father.

Dad screws up his face in disgust, scoffing. “Don’t you worry yourself about that heathen. He’s where he belongs, with his filthy mother.”

“Please don’t talk about him like that,” she frowns. “He’s nice.”

“He’s a sinner,” Dad growls, “Now hush.”

Ethel folds her hands in her lap, defeated. Undoubtedly, she’s worried about her friend. She didn’t see him after his front door slammed behind him and her father yesterday afternoon. She assumes his mother was probably asleep, she usually was these days. Spencer said she hasn't been feeling well recently, but if she’s honest, Ethel can’t remember a time where his mother was feeling anything but lousy. She barely hears the words leaving the pastor’s mouth until her father pinches her harshly on the arm. 

“Pay. Attention.”

She bites her lip and tries to listen.

“It is our duty as God’s children to take in those who need to hear the Word. Those who put themselves above the Lord, those who lie, those who cheat, those who commit adultery. Those who do not repent for their sins shall surely perish, Amen?”

A chorus of agreement amongst the crowd rings out. Ethel worries her bottom lip. Her father shoots her a pointed look, but says nothing.

“Romans 6:23,” he begins, spreading a bible across the podium in front of him. There’s an opaque rustling up and down the aisles of parishioners hunting for the verse. “‘For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.’ God expects us to sin, for we are all imperfect; however, when you admit this in the face of our Lord, you shall surely be forgiven. Amen?”

Again, a mindless repetition of the word. Ethel has never liked that part of church. Every Sunday, the same speech more or less, and she doubts anyone in the room thinks twice about it aside from herself. She doubts anyone in the room disagrees with anything he’s ever said. Like last week, when the sermon denounced all who lie, even when it is to save themselves. She recounts all the lies she’s told, or at least tries to.  There are far too many to catalogue, even if she wrote them down each time. When Spencer threw a rock at her window a few weeks ago, scratching a nick into it when he tried to get her attention after her father kicked him out. She’d blamed it on a falling branch. Or when his mother called that morning, demanding he be sent home immediately, though he was at school at the time. Ethel insisted his mother was overseas and got confused about the time zones. When her father asked why his mother would need him home if that were the case, she didn’t have a good answer. She wore long sleeves for a long time after that, and that was the second time one of her sisters let her use makeup. When her father asked where the bruises had gone, another lie: you hadn’t left any in the first place.

Ethel is pulled out of her thoughts when the entire room falls silent at the creak of the door. She whips around in her seat, ignoring her father’s warning hand on her thigh. She grins when she sees her friend, but her face falls pretty quick after that. He’s wearing a sweater, and she’s worried about his warmth even if it is his Sunday best. He catches sight of her and tries to yank a smile onto his quickly-reddening cheeks, but fails miserably. He tugs his sleeves further down his hands.

Spencer is a small boy as it is, but he looks downright tiny swallowed up in his second-hand clothes. His oxford shoes pad dully against the old, scratchy carpet as he travels up the aisles. He sits in the pew behind Ethel, next to a stately old woman who immediately recoils and scoots as far away from him as she can. Ethel smiles at his proximity, and he offers a shy wave.

The pastor remains silent for another few seconds for emphasis before continuing. “You know, in all my years of preaching, there’s one thing I’ve noticed,” he says, closing his bible and leaning his elbows against the podium, left ankle crossed atop the right. “Those who do not attend church regularly are often the ones with something to hide.”

Spencer feels so hot he may catch on fire at any moment.

“I’ve seen people – heathens,” he looks at Spencer, then away just as quickly, “--show their face in the house of God knowing damn well that they are representing the Devil. Do you know what happens to those… individuals?” he continues haltingly, as if it were a tall order for him to refer to Ethel’s friend as a human being. Her stomach twists at the thought. “God strikes them down.” He opens his bible again, rifling through it. “Psalm 28:3: ‘Do not take me away with the wicked and with workers of iniquity, who speak peace to their neighbors, but evil is in their hearts.’” He slams it shut. “That means,” he presses on, and now Ethel thinks he’s purposely looking anywhere but their direction, “that those who lie to God’s children and worship their own false deity in private are not to be considered one of us. The Serpent is cunning, and will try to convince you his cause is just; do not be fooled. These… these creatures… will say anything to make you believe they are of God. Do not believe their lies.”

Ethel glances back toward Spencer, a look of apology in her eyes. Her father pops her in the back of the head. “Eyes forward,” he hisses. She obliges. Spencer sinks further into his pew, wishing the ground would swallow him whole. 

***

The fresh breeze blowing through the valley the church house resides in isn’t as refreshing as Ethel hoped it would be as she shuffles out the door, accompanied by the other youths, the adults trailing a bit behind. As much as her father would abhor it, he can’t see her in the throng of people, and her hand finds Spencer’s as she falls into step next to him.

“Hey,” she whispers, squeezing encouragingly. He chances a glance at her.

“Hey back.” He looks sad. She tilts her head.

“What happened yesterday?” Ethel looks behind her subtly to make sure no one’s paying attention. She concludes they’re in the clear. 

Spencer kicks a rock out of his way and lets go of Ethel’s hand, opting to shove his own into his pockets. “I’m just glad Mom wasn’t roused enough to hear it,” he says.

“I’m sorry.” She tilts her head down and forward to try to catch his eye under his thick curtain of hair, and notices for the first time a red-blue splotch of colour next to his nose. “I didn’t know he’d do that to you.”

“Really? You didn’t see that coming at all?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “I’ve seen what he does to you. It was only a matter of time.”

Ethel sighs, pulling Spencer out of the crowd and to the side of the building, hidden by the shrubbery. “Daddy is nice to me,” she insists, a trying expression on her face. “He loves me.”

“I don’t believe you,” he replies, squinting his eyes. “Your dad loves you just about as much as God loves me.”

She doesn’t quite know what he means by that, so instead of saying anything actually reassuring, she says, “God loves you. He loves all of his children.”

Tears well up in Spencer’s eyes. He crosses his arms and slumps against the dirty panels on the side of the church. “Why, then? Why is he keeping my mom sick, why does he let your dad be mean to you?” He yanks his arms out of the position they were in, in favour of digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, roughly shaking the tears loose.

Sometimes words were futile, Ethel realizes, even if she hadn’t learned how to describe that to herself yet. Making the best choice she could think of, she takes a step forward and gathers her friend into her short arms. “I’ll pray for you,” she says into his ear. Spencer hesitates before placing his hands gingerly onto her back. He nods, even though he knows her prayers are redundant. If he’s a heathen, God probably wouldn’t even take a second glance at Ethel. No one who associates with someone like him is worth God’s time, probably.

“Thank you,” he says anyway. Sometimes you just need to let people think they believe in something. Even if they’re lying. Spencer has learned it makes people feel better to lie, they find it comforting, even if he hasn’t learned why yet.

***

December 13th, 1972

Ethel squints at the mirror, cross-legged on the carpet of her bedroom floor. She studies the red on her lips, garish if she’s honest, and tries to convince herself it makes her look pretty. She tilts her head this way and that, and considers if a different shirt might compliment it more.

At the sound of a knock on her door, she just about jumps out of her skin. “Um- Hang on!” she shouts, rubbing the back of her hand against her mouth to remove the lipstick. The door opens. “I said-” she looks up and sees her big sister, Joanna. “Oh.”

Joanna grins, pearly white teeth matching perfectly with her long, wavy blonde hair. Ethel always admired, maybe envied, her sisters. They were all beautiful. Slim, but not skinny like Ethel. They always looked happy, their joy contagious in its exuberance. They were kind, godly girls. All three of them. Joanna was the oldest, 19. She presses the door shut behind her.

“Oh, honey,” she coos, kneeling down on the carpet next to Ethel. “You can’t just wipe off red lipstick.” She gets on her hands and knees to lean past her little sister and pick up a box of Kleenex, pulling a couple tissues out before setting it down again. She wets it with her saliva. “Tighten your mouth,” she instructs, pulling her lips taut against her teeth. “Like this.”

Ethel complies, and Joanna sets to work pulling the pigment away from her skin as best as she can. “You really shouldn’t be using my makeup, you know,” Joanna chides. “If Dad saw this-”

“Please don’t tell Dad!” Ethel pulls away to sqeak, putting her hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry, I won’t-”

Joanna puts a soothing hand on Ethel’s shoulder. “Hush. I’m not gonna tell Dad.”

Cautiously, Ethel returns to her previous position and her sister continues her work.

“All I’m saying, you could get yourself into a lot of trouble. You have a knack for that lately.” Satisfied with the result, or at least as satisfied as she was gonna get, Joanna crumples up the Kleenex tissues and conceals them between her palms. “You’re very pretty just as you are, you know that?” she leans in just a bit, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Very pretty.”

Ethel giggles. “Not as pretty as you,” she replies, dragging out the last vowel. Joanna smiles that perfect smile yet again, ruffling Ethel’s hair.

“I’m going to the store, do you want to come with me? I’m gonna get some ice cream,” she says with a wink. In a hurry, Ethel scrambles onto her feet, eager to get out of the house.

Passing through the living room, they’re stopped by the news on the TV.

“Earlier this evening, Dan Sanderson was found hanging in the front yard of his Nebraska home. The Sanderson family is not disclosing-”

The TV is shut off before it can continue. Ethel glances at the couch to investigate the loss, and notices her father for the first time since leaving her room. “Daddy?” she inquires, tears filling her eyes. “Isn’t that-”

“Pastor Dan,” Joanna interrupts, reaching for Ethel’s hand. “Oh, my God,” she gasps, pressing her free hand to her mouth.

Ethel sniffles, a hiccup bubbling in her throat. Dad exhales sharply, rubbing his face. “Church should be interesting,” he comments with a chuckle, before bringing a glass of whiskey to his lips. “Where are you girls going?”

“The store,” Joanna replies, voice distant and distracted.

“Leave Ethel here.”

The two glance at one another from behind the couch. Their father still hasn’t even bothered to spare them a well-meaning look.

“But-”

“No. I’m not asking. Be back in 20 minutes, Jo,” Dad demands, and knowing better than to argue, the older girl concedes.

“Yes, sir,” she sighs, letting go of Ethel’s hand. She leans down to kiss her younger sister’s head. “I’ll be back soon with some chocolate chip, okay?” Joanna asks, fingertips against Ethel’s cheek.

“Okay,” she nods.

Ethel stays put until a few moments after the door clicks shut, processing the death of the pastor. She’s never known anyone who was dead before.

Dad looks at her for the first time today, sitting up and poking his head over the couch. “Come here, darlin’.”

She crosses the room with tiny, shuffling steps, coming to stand next to the soft leather sofa. Dad takes her wrist, not unkindly, and pulls her toward him, and she has to get onto the furniture to comfortably follow his tugging. He nestles her under his arm, fingertips rolling the hem of her dress distractedly as he unpauses the TV.

“Do you want to watch cartoons?” he offers, knuckles against her lower thigh, just above her knee.

Ethel doesn’t reply, eyes glued to her father’s heavy, broad hand on her dress. 

“I asked you a question.”

“Okay,” she says, for the second time in the last two minutes.

Satisfied, Dad lays his head back against the arm of the couch, and Ethel nestles herself into his side. They stay like that for a while, bold two-dimensional colours casting an uncomfortably blue glow over the room. Joanna comes home unceremoniously, puts the ice cream in the freezer, and trudges back to her bedroom. Ethel assumes the other two are probably also in their bedrooms. She realizes she hasn’t even spoken to them in a couple of days. They’ve been distant lately.

“Daddy?”

“Hm?”

When she looks up, she sees his eyes are closed and at some point, he’d finished his glass of whiskey; it’s sitting empty on the side table.

“Can I go see Spencer?”

Suffice it to say, Ethel does not leave her bedroom for the rest of the evening and the better half of the next day.

***

December 17, 1972

Dad took over for Pastor Dan the very Sunday after his death. Ethel wondered if they’d take a week off to mourn, but honestly, she should have known better. It was silly, in retrospect.

Her sisters actually happened to like Spencer, which was very lucky for Ethel. That meant while Dad was in front of the congregation, she got to sit next to her friend. They walked together today, a nice change of pace from driving with Dad. The only reason Dad let them go together was the promise that Joanna, Hope, and Allison would go with her. They were considerate enough to walk a good distance behind Ethel and Spencer.

The sermon made Ethel sick. The look on her father’s face as he talked about a father’s duties was… personal. He watched her and her sisters for most of it. She sank under his unforgiving stare as he spoke about protecting your brood, about keeping them close, and keeping them pure. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but she liked that it made Spencer hold her hand.

***

March 23, 1980

“Aren’t you- worried- your dad- will come in?” the boy asks between presses of Ethel’s lips to his. She isn’t sure of his name (William? He said Will, she thinks?), and she’s less sure she cares.

Ethel shakes her head. “No,” she mumbles, hands firmly on the boy’s shoulders, knees on either side of his hips. “He’s out cold.”

She slides her grip down his biceps, then to his waist, and pulls the hem of his shirt up his abdomen. He obediently lifts his arms to allow her to yank it over his head, then makes quick work of removing her own top. 

For a moment, she has the instinct to cover up. One of her biggest insecurities (aside from the evil, ungodly thoughts in her head) is how skinny she is. She’s all leg, skin and bone from head to toe. She tries to eat more, really she does, but she’s nauseous so often that it’s hard to keep it down. She wonders fleetingly why Dad hasn’t said anything about her continuously dwindling figure.

Her spiral is interrupted when the boy groans, going to grope her chest. He drags his thumb across a stick-n-poke tattoo, a cross just below her collarbone. Ethel’s stomach lurches, sending a rush to her head. I shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be doing this. This is a sin. I can’t take this back. God will know I’m not a virgin. He’ll know I’m not pure anymore. What if Daddy can tell? What if he doesn’t love me anymore? What if he stops-

She groans when he rocks his hips into her, making his erection very apparent. In that moment, she really could not give a damn about her father – for that matter, either of her fathers.

***

March 29, 1980

“You sure you don’t want a puff?” Ethel offers, cigarette dangling from between her index and middle fingers. Spencer shakes his head, which is currently resting on his interlocked fingers, elbows bent out to the sides as he stares at the night sky.

She finally got Spencer to come over again for the first time in a long time, considering the last visit ended with Dad damn near strangling him in an alcohol-fueled stupor (which is becoming more and more common), insisting he “had the devil in him”. 

“Suit yourself,” Ethel shrugs and takes another drag. “Do you ever think about having sex?” she asks bluntly, snuffing out the cigarette on a shingle and turning her head toward Spencer. He chokes on a breath, sitting up slightly to get a better look at her.

“What?”

“Don’t what me. Don’t act like you haven’t considered it,” she says, sitting up on her elbows. “I mean, seriously, Spence. Have you even had your first kiss?”

He deflects expertly. “Have you?”

Ethel holds a puff of air in her cheeks then blows it out sharply, laying back down and interlocking her fingers over her stomach. She considers telling him. For the last week, she hasn’t stopped thinking about her night with that boy. It felt nice to finally go all the way, felt nice to not walk away from a sexual encounter feeling positively filthy. To be able to call the shots for once, not worry about the stakes of your performance quality. Ultimately, she decides against it. “How’s college?” she asks bitterly.

“No, E, what were you gonna say?” Spencer sits up completely, crossing his ankles under his shins.

“Spence, drop it, please?” Her voice is soft, almost scared. It sounds like a prayer, breathy and secretive, like if she said it too loud, the request was sure not to be granted.

“What happened?” he matches her tone, sweet and calm, just as he always has been. Ethel thinks she’s never heard him raise his voice before, even minimally.

“I snuck a boy in,” she replies before she can stop herself. “We, uh. We did it.”

She wanted to use the word. The dirty one. She wanted to use the word she couldn’t use while that boy was inside her, no matter how hard he tried to get her to. She wanted to swear, really she did, but she couldn’t. Funny, the lines a 16-year-old-girl draws.

“How do you feel?” Spencer picks up her hand, toying with the couple of rings on her fingers.

“A little chilly, and the roof isn’t very comfy,” she replies, wiggling to emphasize her point, but careful to keep her hand in his grip.

Spencer glares. “You know what I meant.”

Ethel sighs, deep in her chest. “I don’t know,” she replies. “I mean, I liked it. It felt good. I just…”

“You can’t stop thinking about him,” Spencer adds delicately, not managing to meet his friend’s eye.

“Yeah.” Ethel swallows thickly, dragging her fingertips of the hand Spencer has held captive against his palm.

Spencer shifts a bit to get closer and adjust his grip, commencing a massage on the back of her hand. “I’m always here with you. If it gets to be too much…”

“I know,” she whispers, voice cracking. She drops her chin to her chest. “Thanks.”

Ethel lets Spencer keep her hand but lays back against the roof, closing her eyes with a sigh at his nimble fingers working the muscles.

“He was pretty, you know? Real pretty. Sharp,” she says, and she imagines the pinched expression on Spencer’s face; eyebrows knit tightly, lips pursed. “I like him a lot, Spence. I think I could fall in love with him,” she continues with a dazed smile.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” he says. “For that matter, you shouldn’t have even been having sex before you got married. It’ll be hard to go to confession when the preacher is your father.”

She knew he wasn’t judging her. It wasn’t unkind, the way he spoke to her. She’s grateful for that.

“I know,” she mutters, smile falling. “I just…” She opens her eyes to find Spencer watching her carefully with exactly the expression she expected. “I wanted to believe someone could find me beautiful.”

“I find you beautiful.”

She could cry at the sincerity, and almost does. She swallows the lump in her throat.

“Yeah, but not beautiful enough to make love to me, right?” Ethel scoffs, shaking her head.

Spencer stops his ministrations on her hand, laying it gently on his knee, still carefully clasped in his own. “Maybe,” he whispers, eyes downcast. Ethel perks up at this, sitting up and leaning on her elbows.

“Really? I mean, maybe I should just strip now,” she says with a grin. Spencer returns it.

Ethel lays back down, a giggle bubbling up in her throat. Spencer remains quiet and lets the smirk play against his mouth for a while.

“Are you getting cold?” he asks, rolling his shoulders.

“A little. Sleepy, for sure.”

Spencer stands up and pulls Ethel with him. Before ducking back in through the window, he stops her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Be careful with that boy, okay? Take it slow, keep your eggs in different baskets.”

Ethel rolls her eyes. “Screw off, virgin.”

Spencer goes home that night with a flurry in his stomach and an uncomfortable tension in his pants.

Tag List: @darkmatilda @lizzys-sunflower.

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[angel-kyo]

Almost the one [II]

When a too prone to fall in love Satoru decides he is tired of always chasing the wrong person, his eyes finally turn to the one that should be his perfect match, and to your dismay, this is no other than one of your closest friends; and while the idea of assisting your friend in becoming the man of someone else's dreams held no appeal to you, with your past revisiting, maybe helping him might be the way of helping yourself.

Prev: I

=======================

He must be nuts. There is no way he means it.

That’s what you had thought at Satoru’s request to date him before letting out an incredulous laugh followed by a court ‘No’, and turning around in direction to the campus.

“Why not?” he had asked, catching up with your step.

“What do you mean why not? Because it’s crazy.”

He had not insisted after that, and you assumed that he had not really meant it and it would be best to just forget it.

So why were you not forgetting it?

You peeked at Satoru from the corner of your eye. You two were now listening to the lecture of Mr. Nishikawa, or rather him reading an extremely long set of slides on statistics. It was one of the two classes you and Satoru would be taking together that semester. But as your friend kept looking ahead, his mind probably not on the lectures either, you kept wondering...

He could not have meant it, right?

Back there, he had looked so serious about it that, for a second, you almost believed him. However, you knew better. You were not the type he would date. No, he liked a certain kind of girls. Exotic ones, cute ones, some with stunning features or just girls who has a certain air around them. He liked girls who… stood out in a crowd. Girls like…

“Utahime!” a girl behind you called. “We saved you a seat.”

Utahime was one of your closest friends, and you were aware that her cool personality, and not to mention, graceful features, made her rather popular among your peers. So much that she seemed to have picked the interest of the Gojo Satoru himself.

The way he glanced to the back when she arrived did not go unnoticed by you.

He was at that phase of the Gojo cycle where he could not take his eyes off the one he liked.

The “Gojo Cycle” was something Shoko had come up after a night of too many drinks while you and your friends were discussing Satoru’s love life, and it could be summarized in five stages. The first stage was “The Cupid stage”, in which Gojo sets his eyes on someone for the first time and, as if targeted by Cupid himself, he thinks fate has brought them together. That was usually followed by the staring phase, where he currently was at with Utahime, always searching for her and effectively finding her in his surroundings, reinforcing his belief that the Universe wanted them together.

The third stage was dating. Most times, Satoru would be successful in asking someone out and even in taking them on a few dates for two or three week, but then, for some reason, they would inevitably enter the ’This isn't working stage’ and Satoru’s object of affection would start avoiding him, not answering his calls and texts, or plainly stating that they were not interested anymore. It did not matter how much he chased.

And that is when it came, the phase you feared the most: the heartbreak.

The last stage of the Gojo cycle you feared if not for it’s duration but for it’s unpredictability. Albeit short in terms of time, the process for mending Satoru’s heart could be… challenging. Sometimes he needed an emotional marathon of movies, some others, indulging in sweets to the point of almost making himself sick; other times, he just needed to hit the gym as if his life depended on it.

Party nights, running marathons, trying new hobbies, long calls at 3am….The list could go on and on. Sometimes, he would do all. And what all of Satoru’s coping mechanisms had in common was that he would drag you along with him.

Surprisingly, the breakup, if it could be considered as such, with Hana had not hit him too hard. While Satoru had worried you for a second making you think he was looking too deep into the reason why she had left him, his focus had then shifted to Utahime, which wasn’t ideal but just the fact of him moving on was a relief nonetheless.

===

“Are you sticking to basketball this semester?” you asked Gojo while you walked together out of campus.

He nodded with a big smile on his face. “Of course I am. The team is counting on me after all.” He winked and you would have rolled your eyes at his egocentric notions and tried to kick some sense into him so he would focus more on his studies, but the vision in front of you prevented any words from coming out.

Satoru, who had been expecting a snarky reply, looked down at you when none came from your mouth, only to find out you were not by his side but a few steps back, fixed on a couple of guys looking at one of the campus maps.

He knew one of them, Suguru, his friend and fellow teammate in basketball. However, he had never seen the guy next to him. Seeing that Suguru appeared to be giving directions and pointing at the map, Satoru assumed it was a freshman or a visitor who had asked for help, but that did not explain why you had gone pale out of nowhere.

“[name]? Are you okay?” Satoru asked returning to your side.

It took a couple seconds for you to nod and force yourself to look somewhere else.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Peripherally, you saw Geto wave and probably say his goodbyes to the other guy, and you couldn’t help but turn and try to get another look, hoping that you were mistaken, that it wasn’t him but someone with an uncanny resemblance.

You and Satoru were at least thirty feet away from them, but his eyes still met yours and you could have sworn you saw a brief flash of recognition on his face. You averted your gaze a soon as you could.

No, it was definitely him.

=======================

Note: To everyone's surprise, myself included, I'm alive.

[jjkarmy091]

The Boyfriend Game- Jungkook (finale)

-> synopsis: You never thought that fighting for a position in JV's team would end up with you falling for the guy who was helping you out with it, especially since he had the same rule as you: no date, no romance, just socceer

> pairing: Soccer playerJungkook x (f) reader

> genre: romance, strangers to friends to lovers; angst; fluff

> word count: 8k

Monday was the worst day of my life. Jennie ignored me all day and Sana tried to be neutral. Practice was the worst. Jennie knocked me to the ground three times and played the best I’d ever seen her play. Even with how much I’d improved during the time I’d been practicing with Jungkook, she was still better than I was. I was peeling my face out of the dirt for the third time when Sana squatted next to me. “You okay?” 

“Great.” I spit some grass out of my mouth and sat up. 

“You might want to apologize. That would help.”  

“Apologize? I was trying to help her!” Sana picked something out of my hair and tossed it on the field.  

“Well she doesn’t see it that way.” 

“Gee, you think?” She looked past me. “Especially when Tae showed up to practice again to watch you.” 

“What?” I twisted around to peer behind me. Sure enough, Taehyung was  lounging on the sidelines, wearing his Nike shades and his usual jeans. Jimin was standing next to him, kicking his toes in the dirt and shooting periodic glances at Sana. Those two really needed to get together. 

“Great. Like that’s all I need is to have Tahyung here to bug me . . .” But as I studied him, I realized he wasn’t looking at me, he was in fact studying the field where the action was. I turned to look in the direction he was gazing and my heart skipped, he was looking at Jennie! No way. But he definitely was. 

Grinning, I stood up and dusted myself off, watching Jennie sprint around like someone had given her a bad haircut and ruined her life. She had no idea Taehyung was watching her. She was simply being a pain in the butt to destroy me. 

“What are you looking at?” Sana asked. 

“Taehyung’s here to see Jennie, not me.” 

“Nuh-uh . . .” Then she faded to quiet as she saw what I was seeing. “Wow. 

She has no idea. I’ll go tell her.” I grabbed her arm before she could move.  

“No. Taehyung only liked her when she forgot about impressing him and stopped being a stupid, flirty girl. If you point it out, she’ll go all weird on him again.”  

Coach Merrill blew her whistle, signaling the end of practice and I saw Jennie shoot an evil glance at us before marching over to help Coach round up the soccer balls. My jaw tightened when I saw her chatting up the coach, she never talked with Coach. Ever. She was doing it just to get on the team just to displace me from varsity.  

“I never tried to take him from her, but she’s for sure trying to steal my dream.” Sana shot me a look but said nothing. What could she say? She knew I was right. 

As we watched, Taehyung sidled up toward Jennie and started helping her pick up the balls. She jerked her gaze toward him, then grinned, then said something and he laughed, his gaze latched on to her face like she was all he needed to survive. I pressed my lips together at the sight of their little bonding.  

I wanted Jungkook to look at me like that just one time. I wanted him to walk up and be all cool and casual even after finding out that I liked him. 

“Look at that. Tae ditched Jimin. You think I should go keep him  company?” Sana was watching Jimin with the most pathetically wistful look on her face I’d ever seen. 

“Yeah, you should. Go talk to him.” 

“Okay.” She nodded once, ran her fingers through her hair and then trotted over to him. He gave her a shy but totally adoring grin when he saw her approaching him. I stood there, alone, watching my friends make these guys smile, and I knew what I had to do. I marched over to “our” field and there he was, kicking goals while he waited for me. Enough! He was adorable and funny and talented and I simply couldn’t take it anymore. Jungkook glanced over at me and grinned.  

“Hey.” I took a deep breath and walked toward him. His smile faded.  

“What’s wrong? You look ticked off.” 

“I can’t practice with you anymore.” He frowned.  

“Why not? This is the big week. Crunch time.” 

“I know, but I’m going to do it on my own.” His frowned deepened.  

“Why?” 

“Because I am.” I started to turn to leave, then hesitated at the look of confusion on his face. Over the last couple of weeks, he’d become my friend and I owed him an explanation of some sort. It wasn’t his fault he was an idiot, so I caved. “Here’s the thing, Jungkook, that kiss was way out of line.” He grimaced.  

“But I said it didn’t mean anything.” 

“Exactly.” A little furrow formed on his brow.  

“So?” I shook my head, not quite willing to actually lay it out there. I mean it was one thing to hint at it, it was another to announce I liked him and I wasn’t interested in being treated like a leper from the guy I considered my friend. 

“So you changed the rules when you kissed me and I can’t go back.” He cocked his head.  

“Why not?” I poked him in the chest.  

“Because you’re wrong. A girl and a guy can’t kiss on the lips and have it mean nothing, okay? Not a kiss like that.” He stared at me as a look of shock started to fill his face.  

“Are you saying that you liked my kiss?” 

“That’s not the point!” 

“But did you?”  

“Forget it!” I threw my hands up in the air and started stalking back toward the gym. I could not have this conversation. Jungkook was beside me in, like, one second.  

“Can you stop walking for one minute? We need to talk.”  

“What’s there to say?”  

“Do you . . . like me? Like, like me?” he asked. I heard the hesitation in his voice and I bit my lower lip. This was it. The end of our friendship I could already feel him drawing away. I took a deep breath, steeled my resolve and then turned to face him. His eyes were wary and he wasn’t touching me. He looked so cute, so awesome and all I wanted to do was say yes, to tell him the truth. He took a step backward, away from me. “Do you?” 

I lifted my hand and he flinched and backed up another step, in case I was planning to touch him. My throat tightened up but I had my answer. There was only one response I could give him if I had any pride, so I set my hands on my hips and met his gaze.  

“Jungkook, I think you’re a great soccer player and I enjoy hanging out with you, and yeah, I think you’re a decent kisser.” His skin took on this greenish tinge and he shifted his weight, shoving his hands deep inside his pockets “But quite frankly, you’re not my type.” 

Relief cruised over his face making me want to bury my head in a pile of leaves and cry.  

“That’s great.” He chucked me on the shoulder. “You had me worried for a minute. Don’t mess with me like that. I can’t take it.” 

I started walking toward the gym again, noticing that Jennie and Sana with their boys were hanging out in a little foursome by the field. I could hear their laughter and it made me feel even more alone, so I shot Jungkook a haughty look.  

“You’re delusional if you think I could ever be interested in you.” I laughed even as my heart was breaking into tiny little pieces. The varsity girls were walking in the opposite direction of me, toward the field. I wanted to be with them. If I were with them, Jungkook wouldn’t matter anymore. His shoulders relaxed at my words and he fell in next to me as I walked. Then after a minute or two he cocked his head.  

“What’s so wrong with with me?” I rolled my eyes while I tried to come up with a reason that he’d believe. 

“Because . . . you’re like a girl.” His eyebrows shot up.  

“What? ” I coughed to stifle a laugh. “You’re like one of my girlfriends, except you like sports as much as I do. I can talk about anything with you, and we have fun and stuff.” I nodded. “Yep, you’re like a girlfriend with hairy legs.”  

“A girlfriend with hairy legs?” he repeated, his voice slightly elevated. 

“Yeah. And you smell worse than girls after soccer, but other than that, it’s pretty much the same.” I had to turn away from the look of horror on his face so he didn’t see me crack up. Pride salvaged, I guess. I yanked open the door to the gym and he grabbed it as I stepped inside. He was looking at me, like he couldn’t quite figure me out.  

“You’re some kind of piece of work, Y/n.” I managed a cheeky grin that I didn’t believe.  

“With compliments like that is it any wonder you’re like a girlfriend to me? That’s not the kind of thing a guy would say to a girl.” He frowned, but didn’t reply. Inside all I wanted to do was shrivel up and die. It was over between us, we’d kissed, it had been awesome and he still wanted to run away from me. The only thing that salvaged our relationship was the fact I’d called him a girlfriend with hairy legs, how truly pathetic. I stopped outside the girls’ locker room, where I could hear my teammates laughing and giggling.  

“I gotta go.” He grabbed my arm before I could open the door.  

“Why? Why are you ditching me this week? Just because of a kiss? I don’t get it. I didn’t think you were the type to get all worked up about things like that.” I looked at him with his brown hair all messed up and his intense brown eyes and for the first time wondered what I was doing liking him.  

I mean, seriously, should I really waste my time liking a guy who would freak out at the thought of me liking him? A guy who hadn’t noticed I was a girl even after I was dressed like a total babe on Friday night? It was time to stop liking him. I deserved more than to have to spend time around him, watching every word I said in case I scared him off being miserable because I couldn’t stop liking him and he didn’t like me.  

“Oh, I’m a girl, Jungkook. You were the one who didn’t notice.” Then I shoved open the door to the locker room and let it slam shut in his face.  

The next two days were even worse. I avoided Jennie and Sana and ducked into the bathroom once when I saw Jungkook walking toward me when I was on my way to English class. I arrived at the last second to classes and took off at the first minute the class was over, so Jennie and Sana wouldn’t have to make up a reason not to talk to me. 

I went to practice. I busted my butt. I tried not to notice Taehyung and Jimin there, cheering on Jennie and Sana. I didn’t go to the field where Jungkook and I used to practice, I wanted to sneak over to “our” field to see if he was waiting for me. I wanted to, so badly tho. 

But I didn’t. I couldn’t.  

Hanging out with him right now . . . I couldn’t take it. The thought of spending time with him and not having him even acknowledge I was a girl . . . it was just too awful, so I talked my mom into buying me a bunch of cones of my own and I took a couple of balls and cones and practiced at the middle school on Tuesday and Wednesday.  

It sucked, I was so lonely, but I wasn’t about to give up on varsity and I couldn’t bear the thought of all my friends and Jungkook seeing me by myself, like some pathetic loser, so I was a pathetic loser in private. Much better. 

I was so bummed out that it didn’t even help when my dad stopped by the house to drop off new cleats for me. I knew my mom must have called him and told him how miserable I was, so he’d brought the shoes. 

All it made me do was think of Jungkook—how he’d said that my dad probably really did care but was just too busy. I needed my dad, and he’d delivered, just like Jungkook had said. 

Wednesday night I was sitting on my bed, picking grass out of my new cleats and I thought of calling Jungkook to tell him that he’d been right about my dad. Jungkook would want to know, he’d be happy for me. I picked up my phone and pulled up Jungkook’s number, stared at it, then hung up. Polished my cleats. Eyed my phone. Opened it again. Pulled up. Opened it again, pulled up Jungkook’s number and then I hit send. 

Then I disconnected and threw my phone on my pillow. I needed to stop obsessing! It rang five seconds later and I dove for it, my heart jumping when I saw it was Jungkook. I flipped it open. 

“Hello?” My voice sounded breathless, and I cringed. 

“Did you just call?” I flopped back on the bed at the sound of his voice. Deep, soft, perfect. 

“Yeah. I was just going to tell you that my dad surprised me with new cleats for tryouts on Friday.” 

“That’s awesome.” I could hear the smile in his voice and suddenly I felt totally upset again. I so wasn’t over him. “See? Nothing to worry about, Y/n.” 

“Yeah.” I twirled my hair around my finger. “So, that’s it. I’ll, um, talk to you later.” 

“Wait!” I put the phone back to my ear.  

“What?”  

“Listen, Y/n, I screwed up with the kiss thing and I’m sorry.” I said nothing. What was there to say? He groaned and I heard something crash like he’d kicked something over. 

“Come on, Y/n, can you cut me a little slack? I want to be friends. Can’t we be friends?” Friends. What an ugly word.  

“I don’t think so. Not right now.” 

“Give it tomorrow. We’ll practice and see how it goes. You do want to make varsity, don’t you?” I pressed my lips together and nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see me.  

“Yeah.”  

“So, let’s do it. You need me.”  

“No.” I lifted my chin. “I don’t need you, actually. I think I have to do it on my own from now on. If you want a friend, go hang out with Winter, I’m sure she’d be happy to kiss you and have it mean absolutely nothing.” And then I hung up and tossed my phone aside. I deserved more than what he could give me and I didn’t need a pity practice from him. 

I was wearing my new cleats and walking across the field to JV practice on Thursday when I felt someone fall into step beside me. No, there was someone on both sides of me. I dragged my gaze off the ground and looked up. It was Jennie and Sana, one on either side, trapping me.  

“What do you want?” I snapped.  

“To apologize,” Jennie announced. I shot her a disbelieving look. 

“Are you kidding?” 

“Nope.” She and Sana exchanged glances. “See, I’ve been sort of hanging out with Taehyung this week.” I kicked at a tuft of grass and kept walking.  

“I noticed.”  

“He likes me.”  

“Great.”  

“And it’s because of you.” I looked up at that.  

“What?” Jennie shrugged, looking sheepish.  

“He told me about your conversation at Pop’s with him. How you told him I was actually cool, if he’d just look for it. Because of what you said, he noticed me and because of what you told me about acting dumb around him, when he did start paying attention, I dropped the act.” She smiled, her eyes bright with happiness. “So now we’re . . . kind of dating and I owe you for it. I love you and I’m sorry. Really, I’ve been a jerk.” She slung her arm over my shoulder.  

“And the cool thing is, that when I started working hard this week on soccer to bust you, I realized how much I love the game. It’s fun to sweat! So you got me the guy and helped me realize what I wanted. And I’m so sorry for how badly I treated you Y/n.”  

“I’m thrilled for you,” I mumbled. Or I would be, if she weren’t stealing all my dreams. Her smile faltered.  

“What’s wrong? Why aren’t you happy for me? Do you want me to kiss your toes or something?” Toe kissing wasn’t going to cut it.  

“No, it’s fine.” They both frowned at me.  

“Are you still mad?” Jennie asked. “I meant it when I said I was sorry. Since when do you hold a grudge?” I shook my head as we approached the field for our last JV practice before tryouts happened tomorrow.  

“No, it’s other stuff.” 

“Like Jungkook?” Sana asked. I shot her a look.  

“What do you know about Jungkook? Did he say something to you?”

“No but I noticed you guys weren’t practicing this week. What’s up?” Coach Merrill blew her whistle for us to do a warm up lap around the field and we fell in together in the back. Jennie bumped me with her shoulder.  

“So? What’s going on?” I pressed my lips together and shook my head.  

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I actually did want to talk about it, but I was still too mad about their betrayal to tell them. I mean, yeah, she apologized but it wasn’t enough. I was still mad, so I sped up and left them behind and I could hear them whispering behind me. 

I didn’t care.  

After a few seconds they caught up with me again. 

“So, we’re going to stay and practice with you tonight,” Jennie announced. I snorted.  

“It’s Thursday night. Pop’s night. You never stay late on Thursdays, especially now that you have a boyfriend.” 

“We’re staying,” Jennie said firmly. “I’ve been hanging out with Coach Merrill and eavesdropping and I know it’s between you and Kathleen for the second spot. I know what her weakness is and I know what yours is.  I can help you fix it tonight.” 

I was completely unable to stop the hope from flaring in my chest. “Oh, come on.” She grabbed my arm and tugged me to a stop so I was facing her. “I’ll stay here all night if that’s what it takes to help you make varsity. I owe you.” I inspected her, she looked serious.  

“You’re the number one spot?” 

“Yeah, but if you don’t make it, I’ll drop out so you can have my spot.” She put her hand over her heart. “I swear on the watery grave of my dead goldfish Herman that I’ll drop out if I make it and you come in third.” That got my attention. To invoke Herman was way serious.  

“But I thought you just said that you realized you wanted varsity?”  

“I do but I owe you. I’ll walk away if I need to. Herman Swear.” I stared at her, my throat getting tight. I could tell that Jennie was totally serious about how much she wanted varsity, and she was willing to Herman. Swear her spot over to me if it came down to that. I nodded my acceptance of her apology.  

“Thanks.”  

“So, am I forgiven?” I nodded.  

“Only because of the Herman Swear.” Sana gave a small whoop of joy and threw her arms around both of us. “I’m going to miss you guys so much when you both make varsity!” I hugged them both back, and Jennie did too.  

“You guys are the best,” I said. “Even if I did hate you earlier in the week.”  

“Ditto,” Jennie laughed. Coach Merrill blew her whistle.  

“Girls! Aren’t you supposed to be running?” We giggled and started running again, hopelessly behind the rest of the team. And for the first time since Saturday I felt better. But I still couldn’t keep myself from checking out Jungkook’s field after practice to see if he was there.  

He wasn’t. “Our” field was empty. All week I’d thought that he was still there, practicing, hoping I’d show up. 

But he wasn’t.  

I’d cut him off and he’d let me. It was now officially over between us. Even as friends, it was no more and I felt like my heart was going to break. 

We practiced until almost eleven o’clock Thursday night. My mom came and brought us dinner and then hung out while we practiced. By the time I went to bed I was so unbearably tired that I almost didn’t lie awake thinking about the tryouts, or Jungkook or Jennie and Taehyung and everything else.  

And then it was Friday, the morning of the day of the tryouts. 

And then it was Friday afternoon when it was time for tryouts. I walked out onto the field, fl anked by Jennie and Sana, my nerves in knots. 

The JV girls practice was going to be combined with the varsity girls practice, but Sana and her group were going to be separate. Jennie and I were going to be matched with a varsity girl. I scanned the fields as we approached.  

Taehyung and Jimin were sitting in the bleachers and they gave us a thumbs up. But no Jungkook. I searched again, fighting against the disappointment. I’d been so certain he would come. This is what we’d been working for together. How could he not be here to support me? But he wasn’t there. He simply wasn’t there. 

“Who are you looking for?” Jennie asked.  

“No one.”  

“Duh, she’s looking for Jungkook,” Sana said. “What’s up with you guys? You still haven’t told us anything.” I shook my head and steeled myself against the wave of misery.  

“Today is about soccer.” No way was I going to screw up tryouts because I was bumming about Jungkook.“The varsity coach is here.” Coach Young stood next to Coach Merrill, with a clipboard in her hand. Suddenly I felt nauseated. I stopped where I was.  

“I can’t do this.” 

“Yes, you can.” Jennie grabbed my arm and started dragging me toward the bench, but I twisted out of her reach, my hands shaking. 

“No, I can’t. What if I screw up?” I set my hands on my thighs and bent over, trying to catch my breath from my chest, which had suddenly gotten tight. I’d worked so hard for it, and now it was here.  

“I screwed up so badly at the last practice with them. This is my last chance.”  

“So, if you fail, you’ll be on JV with me and we’ll have fun,” Sana said. “What’s so bad about that?” 

“It’s just . . .” I closed my eyes and tried to breathe. They didn’t understand. No one would understand how important this was. I felt a hand on my back, then someone leaned next to me. My heart leaped, and my eyes popped open.  

“Jungkook?”  But it was my mom. She squatted next to me and patted my shoulder.  

“You’ll be great. You’re good enough. You don’t even have to play your best and you’ll make it.” I stared at her, the tension in my body beginning to ease.  

“What if I can’t play?” She smiled.  

“You’ll be fine.” She held out her cell phone. “Someone wants to talk to you.” I grabbed the phone.  

“Jungkook?”  

“Hey, Y/n,” my dad said. “How you doing?”  

“Dad?” I frowned. “Why are you calling me?”  

“Because I couldn’t make it there, but I wanted you to know I was thinking of you. You’ll do great.” I kicked a tuft of grass and took a deep breath. He was right. I could be great.  

“I can do this.” 

“You bet you can. How about dinner Sunday night?” I lifted my head.  

“Really? Dinner with you and me?”  

“Yep. To celebrate making varsity.” I grinned.  

“Okay.” Coach Merrill blew her whistle. “I gotta go. Bye.” I hung up and handed the phone back to my mom, feeling better already. Jennie slung her arm over my shoulder.  

“Okay, Y/n, here’s the thing. Last time you screwed up because you were trying too hard. All you need to do is focus, like you do in practice. Think about the ball and the game, not about varsity or anything like that.” She tapped her head. “Your problem is that you’re too intense out there. I’m better because I relax and go with the flow and let myself succeed instead of forcing it.” I eyed her, rolling her advice over in my mind. It made sense.  

“Thanks.” 

“Let’s go kick some butt, okay?” She gave me a smile that was all attitude. Her expression fired me up.  

“You got it.” We strode up to the group of varsity girls, and when Coach Young assigned me to pair up with the same varsity chick as last time, the one who had dominated me, Jennie leaned over and whispered  

“You’re as good as she is. Believe it, and go with your instincts.” I thought of how much I’d practiced with Jungkook and the late night drilling session with the girls last night and I knew it was true. I did believe it. 

Two and a half hours later, I was sweaty, exhausted and fired up beyond belief. Lisa, my varsity opponent, had dusted me a few times, but I’d beat her too. It was so unbelievably awesome to be up against such good players and once I took Jennie’s advice and stopped worrying about it, I’d just let myself go and I had a fantastic time. 

Coach Young whistled us in and I flopped next to my best friend on the grass. She was drenched in sweat as well and even had a grass stain on her shoulder.  

“How’d it go?” I asked. She beamed at me.  

“Awesome.” Sana sat next to us, still looking almost as fresh as she had when we’d walked out onto the field.  

“Well, practice was totally boring without you two there,” she announced. 

“If you both make varsity I think I’m going to try out for the musical and bag sports. Soccer’s really boring if you actually just play soccer, you know?” Jennie and I grinned at each other and I realized that for the first time in forever, someone besides Jungkook actually got me too. Coach Young blew her whistle.  

“First of all, I want to say thank you to the JV team for practicing with us today. It’s always great to see the up-and-coming talent.” The varsity girls politely clapped for us and Jennie, Sanna and I cheered loudly. 

“So as you all know, we have two open spots on varsity this year. I would like to welcome the following girls to the team: Jennie Kim.”  

My gut tightened as Jennie screamed and jumped to her feet and the crowd burst out in cheers. I was happy for her I really was, but I wanted it so badly as well. 

“And the second player is . . .” She paused to confer with Coach Merrill and I saw her eyes go to me. I sat up, my heart starting to race. It was me, they’d picked me. Coach Young looked up from her notes. “The second player is Kathleen Hoffman.”  

Kathleen shrieked and the place cheered, and I stared numbly at the grass as my insides shriveled up. I hadn’t made it. Sana touched my arm, but I couldn’t look at her. Then Jennie sat back down and leaned toward me. 

“Herman Swear, Y/n. My spot is yours.” But I shook my head and looked at her.  

“I don’t want your spot. You earned it. Getting a spot that way, it would be like cheating.” She frowned.  

“You’re sure?” I nodded, and saw the relief in her eyes and I knew then that she really would have given up her spot but I couldn’t take it. Not that way. 

A varsity girl grabbed Jennie’s arm and congratulated her and I clenched my fists. All I wanted to do was leave. One of the coaches blew the whistle again over the screams of all the girls. It took three more tries before people quieted down enough to hear what Coach Young was saying. I stared at the ground and wished this was over, barely listening to the yammering of the coach who was not going to be my coach.  

“Due to the talent of the JV squad, we decided to add a third roster spot. Y/n, welcome to varsity.” What? I jerked my head up as Sana shrieked next to me. Jennie yelled and tackled me in a huge hug that knocked me onto my back. I grunted as I fell over, disbelief making me numb.  

“We both made it,” Jennie shouted. “You did it!” 

“Oh, my God!” Sana dove on top of us, hugging us both. “I’m going to miss you guys so much! You’re so awesome!” Twisting to the side so I could see past Jennie’s embrace I looked up at Coach Merrill and she gave me the thumbs up. That’s when it sank in. 

I’d made varsity. 

I jumped to my feet, screaming. “I made it! I made it!” My friends screamed back and hugged me, and we all yelled and danced. And then my mom came over and we all hugged her, then we called my dad and I could tell he was happy. Then I realized Jungkook had been so right about him ---- 

Jungkook. 

After I hung up with my dad, I held the phone in my hand. My mom was talking to Coach Young to find out the hours of practice, and when games were. I watched Jennie get a hug from Tahyung and I envied Sana as she and Jimin bent their heads together in deep conversation. 

Jungkook might not have come today and I might not be talking to him, but he was part of the reason I’d made the team, he deserved to know. I was pretty sure he’d be psyched, so I dialed his number from memory hoping he would answer the phone, at the same time I hoped he wouldn’t.  

He didn’t. 

It went to voice mail. I smiled at the sound of his voice. He still made me feel good. “Jungkook, this is Y/n. I just wanted to let you know . . .” 

“Y/n!” Jennie was suddenly next to me. “We’re going to Pop’s to celebrate. You’re coming, right?” I braced against my instinct to refuse, and I nodded.  

“Of course I am. Wouldn’t miss it.” 

“Cool.” She kissed my cheek then ran back to Taehyung, Sana and Jimin.   

“So, anyway, Jungkook,” I continued, “tryouts are over and I made varsity.” I felt a smile break over my face. “Did you hear me? I made it!” I shouted the last bit still too excited to contain myself. “It was partly because of our practices, so thank you so much for all of your help. I really appreciate it. So yeah, just wanted to let you know this! Bye!”  

Shutting the phone and giving it to my mom I ran after my friends into the gym. Who cared if Jungkook had blown me off? I’d proved I could do it on my own and I wasn’t going to let him ruin my celebration. I didn’t need him. I was a varsity soccer player now! 

“Here’s to Jennie and Y/n- varsity soccer players.” Sana raised her root beer. “Yay!”  

We all toasted by tapping our red plastic cups against one another’s. I grinned at my friends, not even caring that I was there with two couples. I’d made varsity! Soccer was what mattered. Not guys! Not dating. And certainly not Jungkook. 

Taehyung had his arm over Jennie’s shoulder and even though Jimin and Sana weren’t near to that stage, they were sitting on the same side of the booth almost touching shoulders, so they were on their way. The cashier announced our number for our pizza. Tae jumped up.  

“My treat tonight. I’ll get it.”  

“I’ll help.” Jimin slid out of the booth and the guys headed up to the counter for our meal. They weren’t dating me but if they wanted to buy my celebratory dinner I wasn’t going to stop them. I grinned at the girls. 

“This is the greatest night. I never thought I had a chance, not after that horrible practice with varsity a couple of weeks ago.” Jennie cocked her head.  

“Last night when we were drilling, I couldn’t believe how much better you’d gotten. That practice time with Jungkook really helped, huh?” I shrugged and suddenly felt deflated.  

“Sure.” She studied me.  

“What happened with him, anyway? All of a sudden it’s like he’s disappeared off the planet. Sana moved her drink out of the way so she could move closer to me.  

“Yeah. What happened?” I fiddled with my napkin, shredding it into little pieces. 

“He’s a dork.” I shrugged. “I decided to blow him off. No biggie.” Sana cocked her head.  

“Why is he a dork?”  

“Because he thinks he can kiss me whenever he wants and have it not mean anything.” Two sets of eyebrows went up and their jaws dropped.  

“He kissed you?” 

“Yeah.” 

“On the lips? ” Jennie asked, her eyes glittering. “Was it nice?” 

“Yeah, on the lips.” I felt my cheeks get hot. “ Gosh it was really nice.” 

“So, what’s the problem?” Jennie sounded shocked. “Why did you blow him off? You like him, he kisses you and it’s great and you 

ditch him? Why?” I realized my napkin was fully shredded, so I pulled the dispenser toward me and tugged another one free and started working on that one.  

“He did it to show me that we were just friends, and—” Jennie shook her head.  

“No, no, you have got to start from the beginning.” I looked into the faces of my friends, realized how much I’d missed having them to talk to, and suddenly the whole story spilled out. The whole thing. When I finished they were both smirking. I scowled at them.  

“What’s so funny? He blew me away with the best kiss in the world and then ruined it by saying it meant nothing. How is that funny?” I saw Taehyung and Jimin finish paying for the pizzas and start to head back to the table. “Never mind. We’ll talk about it later.” Jennie chuckled.  

“It’s funny because you and Jungkook are both such idiots.” 

“Me? How am I an idiot?” The boys arrived with the pizza and I leaned back in my seat and gave Sana and Jennie the “I don’t want to talk about it in front of them” look. Jennie nodded, then looked up at Taehyung as he slid in next to her.  

“So if a guy kissed a girl on the lips, like a really good kiss, would you believe him if he said he did it to prove he didn’t like her?” 

“Jennie!” I kicked her under the table, missed, and slammed my toe into the leg, sending pain shooting up my foot. Taehyung snorted. 

“No way. If he claimed that’s why he kissed her, he’s lying. It’s just an excuse to cover up the real reason he kissed her.” 

“Jennie I swear I will kill you if you don’t shut up.” Taehyung looked at me as he tugged a slice of pizza free. 

“Why? Did Jungkook feed you that line after he kissed you or something?” I balled up the napkin and hurled it at him. He didn’t even flinch when it bounced off his forehead.  

“Shut up,” I growled. He grinned and Jennie gave me a smug look. 

“He kissed you because he wanted to, then had to make up a reason afterward,” She said.  

“No way.” I gave up trying to get them to abandon the conversation. “Afterward, I hinted that I liked the kiss and he totally panicked! If he liked me, he wouldn’t have panicked when he thought I liked him.” 

“Not necessarily,” Jimin said. We all looked at him in surprise. I didn’t realize the guy actually spoke in public. He shrugged.  

“He might have panicked because he liked you.” Sana nodded. 

“Totally! I mean, you both were totally anti dating, right? Then you start to like him and you panic. And he starts to like you but figures it’s okay because you don’t like him, then he realizes you like him and he isn’t prepared for that. So he panics and makes up that stupid line about kissing you to prove he doesn’t like you.” 

“That makes no sense.” I resumed my napkin shredding with even more force. 

“Guys make no sense,” Jennie agreed. She beamed at her boyfriend. “Even you.” He grinned back.  

“Girls make even less sense.” 

“No way. It’s all boys.” I rolled my eyes as the table descended into a totally annoying and cute argument between couples about which gender made less sense. I grabbed a paper plate and pulled two slices of Meat Lover’s Deluxe onto my plate, letting it wash thoughts of Jungkook out of my head. He was history and I was moving on. 

I picked up my pizza and blew on the end to cool it off before I took a bite, almost chuckling when I thought of how I’d spilled pizza onto Jungkook’s shoe. I tested the cheese with my finger to make sure it wasn’t going to burn the roof of my mouth off, then took a bite.A b oot landed with a thunk in front of me, right on the edge of the table. 

“Need this?” I looked up to see Jungkook standing there, his foot up on the table, grinning at me. I was vaguely aware of the rest of the table falling silent. I swallowed my bite.  

“No, I’m good. I learned my lesson.”  

“You sure?” After a second, I took a pepperoni off my slice and set it on his toe.  

“Thanks. I was looking for a place to stash that.” He grinned, took the pepperoni, and popped it in his mouth.  

“So, I got your message. Congratulations on varsity. That’s awesome.” I couldn’t help but smile.  

“Thanks. I was totally psyched.” He nodded.  

“I knew you could do it.”  

“Yeah, well, I had my doubts, but it worked out.” I shrugged, suddenly not quite sure what to say. “So, um, how have you been?”  

His gaze flicked to the rest of the table, all of whom were listening intently, then back to me. “Okay. You?” I refused to think about how cute he looked in his oversize plaid shirt hanging out of his jeans, with the cuffs rolled up, or how much I missed being with him, so I put on a big, fake grin.  

“I just made varsity, so I’m awesome.” 

“Right.” He sort of shifted his weight and shoved his hands in his pockets, moving his gaze to the gang again.  

“So, um, it looks like you’re busy, so I’ll just hit the road.” He hesitated and looked right at me. What? What was that look for?  

“Okay, thanks for stopping by.” He nodded a greeting at the rest of the table, then started to turn away, then turned back.  

“Congratulations again, Y/n. I’m really psyched for you.” Then, before I could answer, he turned around and walked out. The door had just shut behind him when Jennie whacked me on the side of the head with my stack of napkins. 

“Idiot! Why are you still sitting here?” I batted the napkins away. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Jungkook!” She whacked me again. “He came here tonight looking for you and you totally let him go!” 

“Hey!” I ducked as the napkin assault came back for a third try. “How would he know I was here? I’m sure he just ran into me.” 

“Weren’t you on the phone with him when I came up and told you we were going to Pop’s?” Jennie didn’t wait for my answer. She kicked me under the table. “He’s getting away! Go after him!” 

“So he can reject me again?” I jerked my throbbing shin out of her reach, then sat back and folded my arms. “Forget it.”  

“Reject you? He came here for you,” Sana said. She looked at Taehyung. “Didn’t he?” 

“Looks that way to me,” he answered. “But you didn’t invite him to hang with us and you said you were excellent even though he wasn’t around. If I were him, I’d take off too.” 

“But . . .” 

Sana grabbed the napkins from Jennie and whacked me on the head. “Go after him idiot!”  

“But . . .” Jimin nodded. “I think they’re right. If I liked a girl, and if she gave me your attitude I’d leave too.” Sana smiled at him.  

“I would never have given you the reaction Y/n gave Jungkook.” He grinned back.  

“That’s why I’m sitting here.” I stared at them, the two shyest people on the planet. 

They’d actually, somehow, figured out that they liked each other. Were they right? Should I go? Was there some subliminal boy/girl dating language that had just totally gone over my head? They all turned and looked at me, then shouted in unison, “Go!” 

“I’m going!” My heart suddenly racing, I slipped out of the booth, sprinted across the restaurant, ducking around kids and flew out into the street.  

No Jungkook.  

I looked both ways, looked down the street. 

Still no Jungkook. 

Shit! I’d missed him!  

Then I thought of him, and I knew where he was. Biting my lip in nervous anticipation, I started walking down the street toward the ice cream shop, then I broke into a jog, and by the time I reached it, I was in a dead sprint. I skidded to a stop out front. The place was packed with people, and our bench was taken by a mom and her three kids. 

He had to be here. I knew he had to be. 

I hauled open the door, then jumped back in surprise as Jungkook nearly fell into me, a massive chocolate dipped waffle cone in his hand. 

“Jungkook!” I jumped back as the ice cream flew out of his cone and onto my shirt. The top scoop landed with a thud and I caught it in my palm as it slid down my shirt. I lifted my hand up, chocolate ice cream dripping from between my fingers.  

“How did you know I wanted a bite? You’re so nice.” I took a slurpy mouthful, and was rewarded with a half smile from him. He held out his cone without a word, and I dumped the ice cream back into it, then started licking the ice cream off my hand. He tossed me a napkin.  

“Aren’t you missing out on your celebration?” He started walking down the street. My friends were right, he was miffed that I hadn’t invited him to join us. 

“Yeah, but . . .” Could I really do this? Could I really tell him I liked him?

“But what?” He didn’t look at me but I heard the expectant tone in his voice, so I said it.  

“I just thought it would be appropriate to celebrate with you since you helped me get there.” He slanted a glance at me.  

“Really?”  

“Really.” I took a deep breath, then chickened out. I just couldn’t take that look on his face again, the one where he acted like I had rabies or something. We walked in silence for a few minutes, and I realized we were heading in the direction of my house. He handed me his cone without a word, and I took a bite. “Thanks.” He nodded. And still we said nothing. So . . . what now? He stopped suddenly and turned toward me.

“Did you like it when I kissed you?” I blinked.  

“Um . . .” What was the right answer? What was he looking for? He scowled and spun away.  

“Never mind,” he muttered. “Forget I asked.”   

“No!” I ran after him, grabbed his arm and made him stop. “Yes, I liked it. I liked it a lot, that’s why I couldn’t take hanging out with you, because that’s all I could think about whenever I saw you, but you weren’t thinking about it at all and I felt so awkward and—”  

“Wrong.” I frowned.  

“What?”  

“You’re wrong.” He was looking at me intently, his eyes dark and intense in the shadows from the streetlight. “I was thinking about it. All the time.” Suddenly, I had trouble swallowing.  

“You were?” He nodded.  

“See, the thing is, I liked it too.��� I felt like someone had just dropped a brick on my head.  

“You . . . did?”  

“Took me a while to figure it out, though. What I thought, what you thought.” He held out his cone.   

“Here.”  Ice cream? I didn’t want ice cream right now! But I took it when he practically shoved it in my hand. Then I forgot about the ice cream when he put his hands on either side of my face and leaned toward me, his gaze intent on mine. His hands were warm, and he gently rubbed his thumbs against my cheeks, like he was waiting to see if I was going to tell him to back off.  

When I didn’t, he got this little smile on his face, and then he bent down and kissed me and it was even better than before. Softer, slower, and perfect, making little chills rush down my arms. He tasted like chocolate, like warm, melted chocolate. He broke the kiss and pulled back slightly.  

“So, that was a test.” I blinked, trying to remember my name and how to breathe.  

“What?”  

“I had to see if my theory still stood. You know, that a guy and a girl can kiss on the lips and still be just friends.”  

“What?” I stepped back, clutching his ice cream. “We’re back to that again? Are you kidding?” He took my hand before I could get out of reach.  

“And my conclusion is that maybe other people can kiss and have it mean nothing, but we can’t.” I stopped trying to get away.  

“What are you saying?” I had to know for sure. 

“I’m saying . . .” He tugged gently on my hand and I let him pull me closer. “I’m saying that I like you. Like, like you. For real”  

“Are you sure? I mean, you kinda freaked that day on the soccer field.” 

“Well, the thing is I missed you this week. I’d gotten used to hanging out with you and when I couldn’t anymore . . . it bummed me out.” He tugged on my ponytail and this time it didn’t make me think that we were only friends. It made me think that I liked him, and I liked being with him.  

“So?” I grinned at him, my happiness nearly bubbling out of my head.

“So what?”He groaned. “Cut me some slack here, Y/n. I’m not exactly used to telling girls I like them, you know? Are you in or not?” I laughed, unable to keep it inside any longer.  

“Jungkook, you’re a total idiot if you can’t figure out that I like you too.” 

“Really?” He got this huge smile on his face. 

“Swear.” He slipped his hands around my waist and pulled me against him, tossing the ice cream cone over his shoulder. It landed with a splat on the sidewalk. 

“So does that mean I have a varsity girlfriend?” I giggled like a total girl and linked my hands behind his neck.  

“Yeah, I guess it does.” 

“Sweet, because I wouldn’t have it any other way” Then he bent his head, and I stood up on my tiptoes and we met in the middle. 

And it was perfect. 

Thank you for reading this far and for all your love <3 you guys are the best!