#I don't know to me that would have just made sense

[mercurial-chuckles]

Witless Wednesday Thought

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Warnings: Fluff | Hot n Spicy Supersolider | Bucky losing his shit | Bucky defending you | Smitten Bucky | Smitten Reader | Language | Mutual Pining | Kissing | Happy Ending | Language | ~1k | Unbeta'd | Lemme know if I'm missing anything. A/N: I was working on another story when this tiny one sucker-punched my flow of thoughts. I scheduled it for yesterday, but that didn't work out. Anyhoo, here ya go! Note: Do not Steal, Copy, or Plagiarize any part of my work! I do not consent to AI scraping my work. GIF credits to the OP. Divider made by me. Check out my other works: Masterlist

Part of ♡ Weeklong Thingamajig ♡

Indulge Away!

You'd never seen Bucky so angry, so enraged.

As a matter of fact, you barely saw any other emotion flit his face except impassiveness.

Sweet heavens! He was the most devastatingly handsome man you'd ever seen, too.

Normally, you would admire him inconspicuously, just like you did every day when he walked through your part of the office. But you snapped out of your 'Bucky delirium' for Wyatt's sake, who was currently being throttled by the supersoldier against the shelves.

"You don't call her that," Bucky growled.

Holy Shit! It took you a moment to peel your eyes away from that bulging bicep and clenched jaw to make sense of the situation.

One moment, Wyatt thanked you for resolving the system layout issue, 'I knew I could trust you, dawg!' Wyatt said, and the very next second, you saw Bucky throwing him against the shelves. You didn't even realize Bucky was there. He was so fast it made you question your senses.

Bucky must have misunderstood. As much as he'd adapted, James Buchanan Barnes was still a man rooted in a different era. Modern slang still tripped him, you figured.

"Please," you pleaded hurriedly, unsure how to actually intervene.

Wyatt coughed, stunned, his feet dangling as he struggled in distress.

"Bucky," you said, scared out of your wits. He looked down at you intensely, and you quickly took a small step back when you realized how close you were. As much as you silently pined loved Bucky and had imagined him doing wild things to you with that very same rage on countless occasions, you were, very realistically, intimidated at the moment.

"Please, Bucky," you whispered.

Bucky seemed to snap out of his trance as he blinked, his expression still rigid. He released Wyatt, who stumbled and fell to the floor.

Wyatt crawled away a little. Bucky stepped closer and sneered down at him, "Apologize. Now." He warned.

As much as you enjoyed your friend's sense of humor, Wyatt was so out of his depth sometimes, and you were sure his penchant for saying inappropriate shit would be the end of him. Because after all that just happened, he wouldn't shouldn't have said "Are you serious?"

Wyatt was a personality, alright! You tried your best to look at Wyatt, but Bucky's tall, broad frame blocked your view.

Bucky chuckled darkly, crouching down in front of Wyatt, who was still sprawled on his ass.

"Take a guess. DAWG," Bucky growled.

This shouldn't be funny.

This really shouldn't be turning you on as much as it was.

Wyatt finally seemed to realize the issue.

Fucking finally!

You wanted to explain that what Wyatt said was just an endearment, but the basic functioning of your brain had been fused.

"Look… I didn't mean…" Wyatt started, his gaze shifting to yours, and you must have looked like a stunned animal.

For the love of God, Wyatt! Shut up and say sorry! You thought.

"I'm sorry," Wyatt finally squeaked, trying to push himself off the ground when Bucky leaned further.

Bucky gestured toward you, "Apologize to her," he ordered.

Your heart pounded wildly. You hoped to stay upright and not fall victim to your dancing nerves.

"Sorry," Wyatt muttered, looking at you, and you felt terrified for him too. The poor guy was freaking the fuck out, and all for what, being cool?

"It's alright," you mumbled awkwardly. If not for the very adult feelings currently coursing through your body for the six-foot-something supersoldier, the whole thing might have felt like Wyatt was being scolded for pulling your pigtails on the playground.

When Bucky rose to his full height, you expected him to dash off. But he didn't. He stayed rooted in place, eyes fixed on Wyatt.

Wyatt, however, finally managed to peel himself off the floor, and he bolted in a jiff.

Good for him.

Not so great for you.

You stood there trembling, flushed, and utterly confused.

Bucky slowly turned to you, and the intensity in his gaze caught you off guard. You awkwardly shuffled back, lost your footing, and staggered. He steadied you, metal arm circling your waist and pulling you forward into his chest.

Goodness, Bucky was tall! He was so strong, all muscle, and smelled divine. The urge to nuzzle into his chest made you blush even more. Luckily, a modicum of rationality still prevailed.

But his eyes were so blue and beautiful you couldn't stop looking into them. He didn't avert his gaze either.

Bucky tilted his head and moved closer, studying your face while your brain buzzed and your ears rang.

"You okay?" he asked, his breath warm against your face.

It was totally unfair for a man to look the way he did.

"You with me, doll?"

That nickname in his raspy voice had your lips parting. Reminding yourself to respond, you put some effort into nodding your head a couple of times.

Noticing his eyes shift to your lips, your heart picked up, and you bit on your lower lip, feeling the pulse thrumming in your entire body. His tongue peeked out, quickly proceeding to lick his lower lip.

What was going on? Were you dreaming? But if you were, why did it feel so vivid? You fully expected to wake up on your couch like yesterday, with the TV running in the background.

Bucky slowly stepped back, removing his hand and taking all your sanity with his retreating touch.

"I..." Bucky began, running his fingers over his stubble and licking his lips again. You couldn't help but stare. His lips were so damn pink, and you really, really wanted to kiss him.

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Your brain needed rehabilitation from Bucky Barnes.

"Wanna grab a coffee with me?" he asked.

You heard the words coming out of his mouth, you did, but you didn't quite process them. You just kept staring at him.

When you finally noticed the shift in his expression, his face falling and eyes apologetic, you cleared your throat.

"Coffee? With me?" That was a dumb response, but that was what your self-deprecating self came up with.

Bucky nodded, quite expectantly and hopefully.

"Okay," you managed to say, offering a small smile.

Bucky sighed in relief. Then he smiled, all shy and adorable, and you bet you could faint just like that.

Charming bastard! He was gonna kill you with his looks.

"Thank you," he said, grinning wildly. He felt overwhelmingly everywhere around you. Bucky shuffled, rocking on his feet awkwardly before nodding at you curtly.

"Right. Umm…I'll be here at 5:15," he said, and you nodded, though a bit too surprised he knew exactly when you clocked out.

Bucky took a few steps toward the door, and you stared longingly at his retrieving form. He stopped, turned around, and looked at you for a whole minute. His gaze transfixed you. Bucky strutted toward you and pushed you against the wall, both hands cupping your cheeks, making you gasp at the feel of them, at the feel of him.

"Sorry... I just..." he breathed against your lips, giving you a millisecond of space to push him away--you didn't. Instead, you rose on your toes, hands on his chest. Bucky groaned softly, pressed a gentle kiss to your nose, then tilted your face closer and captured your lips, tasting, nipping. The rough stubble scratched your skin sensually.

And somewhere in the corner of your mind, it became clear that Bucky Barnes, an Avenger, had no reason to stroll through the Technical Analysts' floor except for you.

Leave your thoughts if you enjoyed reading it. 💞✨

♡ Weeklong Thingamajig ♡

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[sqgeism]

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 kiss me beneath the milky twilight ! | amphoreus men x gender neutral reader

💌 — ; your first kiss with amphoreus men :)

love mail — short ? ish ? i'm rly like 5050 on it idk whats short anymkre ( ﾟ□ﾟ) hiiii guys ! :D im rly curious which hsr character reminds u of me (totally stolen from airi) LOL this was kind of fun i love intimacy its cute (；^ω^)

anaxa is a bit of a romantic at heart, even if the cold glares and scary aura act as if otherwise. he doesn't know why people want to explain it, he loves you. why would he be cruel if his heart only beats for you? common sense, he thinks.

and you can feel just how fast his heart is beating as you lay on top of him, under the stars and anaxa's back on the grass, stargazing in the silence of the night. words aren't exchanged because you two have come to realize that not every silence needs to be filled, just appreciated. it isn't every day that the world is quiet enough to hear anaxa's soft breaths, some sort of proof he's real. that he's still alive to enjoy this moment. and he can't be more thankful to the gods he doesn't believe in for the kindness he's always cursed them for never having.

"dove?" he calls to you, bringing his hand to your cheek and bringing you up closer to his face. "yes, anaxagoras?" cursed heart, fluttering at the little giggle that comes with you saying his name. you say it so.. fondly, no one could ever compare.

the night has been perfect, your existence has consumed his every thought, and it's made him think about only one thing; "i need to kiss them."

enough time has passed, right? it's been a couple of months, he feels confident, but also hoping that the ground under him would swallow him whole.

all he needs is an indication you also want this, that you've been yearning for his lips the way he's dreamed about yours every night. (pleasedon'tthinkhe'sweird)

while stuck in his train of thought, he's realizing now that he's just been staring at you. smiling all sweetly— which makes this worst—cause you look so pure while his thoughts are far from innocent.

"would.. it be too crude to.. tell you that i want you? that.." you need to stop looking at him like that, with those eyes that capture his attention every time. "that i want you.. to kiss me. kiss me till i grow sick from the taste of you."

and you do, pressing your lips against his as he can only smirk. his request was a trick hypothetical, he'll never want to stop. he's obsessed, you have to deal with him now.

mydei was celebrating your fourth month together, yes he's the type of guy to celebrate monthly anniversaries... sue him for being in love... but yes. four months isn't a lot of time but phainon's been asking about first kisses, which has YET to happen but there's really no rush. he doesn't wanna force anything you're not yet ready for, putting into consideration it's something so big. the first kiss has to be special, which is why he's in the process of making you an entire full course meal of your favorite dishes. all while you sit and look gorgeous by the counter, watching him like he's doing the most attractive thing a man can do. all while in a soft pink apron and his hair tied up since he thinks it gets into the food sometimes which is his worst fear.

what was he thinking again? right... right! not burning his hand. completely lost his train of thought after you complimented how nice he looked at this very moment. he could swear you had a certain look in your eyes, hungry for something entirely unrelated to food. may the aeon's forsake his heart for having it stutter like this. but also don't make it stop, he loves it, a bit too much.

when dinner is served, mydei is sure to tend to your every need. want more salt? he's up to get the shaker. water? refilled the pitcher to the very top as well as your glass. "mydei, i'll just get some tissue from the kitche—" he's already up, and you wanna beat him to it, but he's already stopping your path with the biggest smile. "sweetheart, why are you standing?" he chuckles, and you fake a little pout. "i wanna get it on my own. don't wanna have you do everything."

"if i'm not doing everything for you, i'm not doing things right." he counters while his hands travel to your waist, humming a little murmur of your name. "so perfect. just sit, i'll get them for you."

matching his advances, your arms quietly move to his shoulders, leaning into him as you usually do. "come on, let me do at least one thing for you."

this is starting to sound like it's not just about tissues. "please, just.. one thing."

are you supposed to be leaning into each others lips when you're asking for tissues? probably not. but mydei doesn't want to let this moment slip, he sees your slight hesitation, which if it was up to him he would've totally just kissed that doubt out of you. but he needs to hear the verbal confirmation. a reassurance that he's doing this right. "there are possibilities wherein this moment passes me without ever knowing what your lips feel against mine. please, please indulge in me for just a moment."

it lasted far longer than a moment. <3

phainon is a bit too much for a flirt to not get to the closest thing to a first kiss. cheek kisses is his favorite form of affection at the moment.. gets him all weak in the knees. he loves seeing you lean in for one and he just asks for another one till he's satisfied. greedy, yes. does he care? not really.

in a flowerfield of just the two of you and the prettiest floral scenery, it's a shot straight out of a movie. you're sat next to phainon, putting little flowers in his hair as he gets to admire you, a perfectly fair trade. you get to love the flowers, he gets to love you. all he ever needs to be honest.

"how did i ever get so lucky?" he sighs dramatically, pulling you closer by the waist as you snicker at his theatrics. "your soul is as beautiful as this field. i'm telling you, angel. if you stay any longer then the aeon's might try to take you away from me." his words have never failed to make you feel valued, and it's but a fraction of how he truly feels about you. he knows he will never be able to put everything into mere words, you deserve so much more than just that.

"phai, please. any sweeter and bees will start to use you for honey." and there it is, one of the many things phainon adores about you. just.. effortlessly matching him. his humor, aesthetics, lifestyle, passion.. all those things, you've perfectly matched his own. "i can take a few stings."

because it felt right, he kisses your cheek a couple of times, making you giggle and jokingly try to push him away, even if your strength is basically at zero and almost pulling him closer.

when he's finished, the blue haired hero points at his lips and smirks. "wanna return the favor, baby? right here is perfect."

it isn't the first time he's made this joke, and it probably won't be the last, but for once you feel.. ready. like it's right.

so when you close the gap between your lips and his, phainon absolutely malfunctions for a second. before locking in and kissing you with gentle fervor, one hand barely on your cheek because he wants to reassure you that you're free to pull away.

and when you don't, he's on cloud 9 the whole time. takes you into his arms and you both fall into the flowers, not breaking the kiss for a moment as laughter and lips crashing against one another fill the air.

© sqgeism or wtv (^_^;)

[screamlet]

fic: road to nowhere (8x18 spec)

buck and tommy trapped under some concrete and dreaming of other places. 1.2k.

---

Tommy came to rescue them, Buck and Ravi, about an hour ago. That's about as long as Tommy and Buck have been trapped under a concrete slab that collapsed on Ravi's way out.

"Help is on the way," Ravi called through the gaps letting them breathe.

"Are they actually gonna be any help, though," Buck wonders, and realizes he said it out loud.

"I can't believe you'd doubt them over a little building collapse," Tommy says, wheezing more than Buck likes to hear. "That's your team, they've got your back."

Buck's smiling to himself and, for some reason, that catches Tommy's attention.

"Don't they?"

"Everyone deals with grief differently," Buck says.

There's a beat, then Tommy says, "Fuck them. Whatever they did. Or haven't done."

Buck shakes his head. "It's fine, I'm just." And he doesn't have a way to end that sentence. "Ignore me, okay? I'm—I'm being a snitch."

"A snitch? What are you, 12?" Buck smiles to himself again, and Tommy grumbles. "Never thought I'd see the day when I hated to see you smile."

Buck glances at him. "You hate it?"

Tommy's being too honest for how not-hurt he claims to be. "Those smiles don't reach your eyes." He didn't think Tommy would notice. "What are you thinking about? What are you gonna do when you get out of here?"

"We." Buck sends him the most threatening look he can manage.

Tommy acquiesces. "When we get out of here," he repeats.

"I'm thinking of going on a road trip, actually," Buck says. "Getting out of LA for a while. I've got the PTO for it and even if I don't—"

"You'd leave? The 118?"

"I need some space," Buck says slowly. "And Eddie got a job offer in El Paso, but he's thinking of not taking it and moving back, so I'd have to give up the house."

"Uh, no you wouldn't."

Buck makes a face. "Tommy, I'm not gonna let Chris be homeless."

"Do you think firefighter and former Army medic Eddie Diaz, a tax-paying adult with a child, is incapable of fucking apartment hunting?"

"Look, it just makes sense," Buck says.

"It doesn't, but keep talking." Tommy stifles a wince. "The rage will keep me from going into the light."

"It's all lining up, Tommy, honestly," Buck says. "They can take the place off my hands and I can do what I did when I dropped out of college: get in my Jeep and go see the country again."

"What do you mean again?"

Buck smiles at him; it looks like Tommy still hates it. "I got kicked out of college, then out of community college, then Maddie gave me some cash and her Jeep and I ran away from home. Well, I was like, 21, I don't think you can run away from home at that age."

"I don't think there's a statute of limitations on running away from home," Tommy says dryly. "As long as you have a home. Which you do."

Buck looks away, bites the inside of his lower lip. "I did. I don't know if it made it out of the lab, though. I think Bobby took it with him."

Buck whips his head around when Tommy doesn't respond. He's awake, though, but staring at Buck with his lips in a fine, frustrated line. "If losing Bobby means losing your home—losing them—then I don't think you really had it after all."

"Don't say that," Buck says softly. Tommy looks away. Agree to disagree.

"I haven't seen the Milky Way in like, 10 years," Buck says. "I should fix that."

"You think it's changed much?"

"I'm sure it has, even if we can't see the changes. Earth is moving, our solar system is moving, space is moving—"

"Is it?"

"Well, it's expanding, as far as we know," Buck says. "Maybe it doesn't look any different but—but I'm different. So."

Tommy's quiet, then says, "It's been 20 for me. Years. Since I've seen the Milky Way. I'm outdoorsy, but I don't get out to those really remote areas. Haven't for a while."

"It sounds like a good idea, right?"

"It does." Tommy clears his throat, shifts as much as he can under the rubble. "You're going alone, huh?"

"Yeah," Buck says, then pauses so he can look at Tommy. "I—I was planning on it."

Now Tommy smiles, a small thing that lights up the darkness in Buck. "No room for a co-pilot? Someone with awesome taste in music who can help out with the driving sometimes? If—" Tommy motions to the slab. "Provided I've still got a body and everything."

Buck feels sharp pinpricks behind his eyes, at the edges, emotion swelling in his throat. "I keep thinking: this isn't it. This—is this what I wanted? I'd have a home, but I could never leave again?"

"From a homeowner's perspective," Tommy says, always making him laugh. "It's not much of a home if it crumbles the moment you step outside. You can't be the only thing holding it together." He hesitates. "Bobby couldn't be the only thing holding it together."

"Yeah," Buck agrees. "And you?"

"What about me?"

"What are you running from?" Buck knows his smile is too mean, too slick. "If not me, I mean."

Tommy makes a little ha fucking ha face at him, nose crinkling because he can't help being amused. "I wouldn't be running. I'd be coming with you."

"Oh."

"If you wanted the company," Tommy repeats. "Gas money, too. Gas gets expensive."

"Why now?" Buck looks down at his hands. "What's changed? Besides I said something really shitty to you and—and I didn't get to apologize."

"I know you didn't mean it," Tommy says. "And I didn't mean to leave."

"So you want to test out your staying power by trapping yourself in a Jeep with me?"

"Yes, Evan, that's exactly it. You saw right through me."

"Around you," Buck says. "I've gotta shift a little to see past the slab that's gonna suffocate us."

"So it's all hypothetical anyway," Tommy replies.

Buck wonders if Ravi's eavesdropping or if maybe they've been left to die, buried alive. Maybe they're not worth the effort. That sucks; Buck would think Tommy was worth the effort, at least. He has a pilot's license and the people at Harbor probably like him a lot more than the 118 likes Buck right now. In any case: it's quiet and the glimmer of a road trip, taking a breath outside the city limits, feels like it's slipping away.

"Think we're running out of oxygen," Buck comments. "I'm kinda losing the will to live? Is that science? Less oxygen, more hopelessness?"

"Evan," Tommy sighs. "We're gonna get out of here, and then we're gonna get out of here."

Buck takes the hand Tommy reaches out. He's not sure either of them believe that, or each other, or that they'll go anywhere together or apart, or that things will get better but—but for now they can keep each other awake, thinking of other ways and places to be.

[thirdwheelravi]

i guess i could see buck putting in the transfer request as like. him trying to take pepa's advice to embrace change. but honestly it just did not make a lot emotional sense!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

in general the way they handled buck's grief specifically and the "fracturing of the 118" at large just. was extremely poorly done. and it honestly started in 8x17 as much as i liked that episode. there was a lot of TELLING us and very little showing us exactly what buck even meant when he said he felt like everyone was spiraling away from him. they didnt even show us the "we don't even eat together" (im aware it's a scene that got cut but THEY SHOULD NOT HAVE CUT IT). very little showing us that everyone felt they couldn't talk to him as eddie says. very little showing us why after ending the 8x17 on a hopeful note buck is suddenly again in such a dark place that he's basically given up on the 118 as a family. i mean, that line "it's just a number" was just SUCH a clear case of the writers wanting to put the same line in chimney's speech ("it's not just a number!") and shoehorning it in.

and don't even get me started on the fact that Hen is given ZERO space for her own grief. she is there to be athena's friend and chim's friend (and eddie's friend) that's fine and good but we seriously know ABSOLUTELY NOTHING???? about how she feels about bobby's death???? like seriously ZERO time was spent on that.

imo the chim and athena conflict was the only emotional thread that was well set up and executed from the beginning of the bobby's death arc to the end (although i have my quibbles with the captain han aspect of it). every scene of the two of them together was interesting and layered and most of all MADE SENSE EMOTIONALLY. I FELT those scenes, from her yelling at him in 8x16 to the awkwardness in 8x17 to her telling him bobby would be proud of him in 8x18. the shot of her holding baby han at the end was one of my favorites of the episode. honestly i did not even need the whole Robert Nash Han part of it, just the image of new life coming into the world and athena being part of that...that was honestly all they needed.

[averyuniqueusername]

Laughter filled the small cave they stood in and bounced off the rocks, strengthening into a rolling wave that crashed into the genie's senses. The mighty genie startled and glanced down at the small old man. ". . . What? What are you laughing about? I haven't even finished listing the rules yet. " The frail old man's giggling dissolved into a coughing fit, and after a moment's rest he peered back up at the genie, his sparkling eyes barely visible from underneath large, bushy eyebrows. " Son, I wasn't planning on asking you for more time. Lord knows I've had plenty of that. " The genie studied the man before him. The old man was dressed in well-loved overalls, a white shirt and a straw hat. One gnarled hand supported the man on an old wooden cane, and the other grasped the handle of an old rusted metal gas lamp that had housed the genie for about a hundred years. Drifting from a crack in the glass of the lamp was parts of the genie's smoky tail, emanating a soft glow that threw light and shadows on the old man in a way that made him almost otherworldly. A thousand men before him would have never dared interrupt him, they would be chomping at the bit to make the first wish. Instead of anticipating, he was laughing. But it was no matter, he was a human like the rest of his masters. Three wishes to twist the best he could, and then leap into the nearest lamp for the next fool to find. His face twisted back into a mechanized smile.

" Well, good to know. Rule number two is: No wishing someone dead or alive. Everyone has their time on this land and frankly I couldn't care enough to change that. "

Another fit of giggles, followed by harsh coughing. The genie grimaced as his new master doubled over for a minute to catch his breath. How could he find humor in the possibility of great power, wealth, even a return to the youth he surely misses? Men and women would discover the genie and demand endless everything. That's all humans are, just selfish good for nothing fools who want a-

" - lamp here, son. "

" . . I beg your pardon? "

The old man lifted the lamp a bit. " I said I'm worried about this old lamp here, son. Don't you live in it? "

" I. . I do, full time as a matter of fact. A good bottle is hard to come by now a days. "

Another chuckle into a wheezing cough. "I agree, and I'd like to spend that first wish to fix it. "

" What? There's far better things to wish for. Ask me for a grand palace or or a great horse. " A horse could easily trample the old man, and the grand palace could be far, far away.

" Maybe if I was a younger man. My house is my palace, as empty as it is, and I'm sure you'd like yours to be the same. "

The genie crossed his arms. " Well, You'll have to say the words "

" Oh-h-h right. " The old man straightened himself and puffed out his chest. " I wish that this here lamp become the finest container for. . what was your name again? "

" . . Asa . " Names held no power over a genie, but Asa still doubted the old man's intentions

The old man smiled " Roger, nice to meetcha. Well, I wish that Asa's lamp becomes the finest lamp the world ever did see. "

Asa hesitated, but with a small clap of his hands the lamp in Rogers hand melded into a fine metal lantern with lattice sides and a gazebo topped chimney from which the genie's tail now pours out.

" Now that's a pretty lantern. That sort of craftmanship hasn't been seen around here for a while." Before Asa had a chance to respond, Roger turned around and started to shuffle towards the cave entrance.

" Where are you going? " Asa tried to stay put, but there was only so far he could be from his lamp, and he was slowly, helplessly tugged behind the old man.

" Out to see the sunrise one more time. " Roger hobbled to the cave entrance, and paused when he felt the smoke tug on the lantern.

" I don't want to "

"Well, I wish you'd join me, I've yet to miss a sunrise and I won't start now. "

"Rule number one," said the genie, "you can't wish for immortality. At best I can promise is that you'll live as long as I do, and frankly, I don't know how long a genie lives. I could die immediately upon granting your wishes."

[littlegirlinvisible]

MOONAGE DAYDREAM (2022) dir. Brett Morgen “I never got... I never became who I should have been. I've spent an awful lot of my life actually looking for myself, you know? And understanding what it was that i-why-what I existed for. What was it that really made me happy in life? And who exactly, or was... Who are the parts of myself I was trying to hide from? I think a lot of us have huge senses of denial about who we are and where we exist in the world [...] I just happen to be in a great place. I'm really lucky in that way. 'Cause I look at some of my mates, and some contemporaries, and I know some of them feel, I don't know, tired, or bitter, or you know, a number of things that traditionally are supposed to go with getting older, you know? And I've just been very fortunate that it just hasn't happened to me. I just feel really... I'm pretty keen on everything. I've just landed on my feet. I've done and do everything I've always wanted to do, you know? That's been... It really is extraordinary. I've an incredible life. It's been amazing. I would love to do it again. I was determined, ever since I was 16, that I would have the greatest adventure that any one person could ever have.”

[kingsoowolves]

constant | s. es

pairing: Best friend!Eunseok x fem!reader

word count: 9.2k

author's note: This has been sitting in my drafts for a while because I desperately wanna give it a part two, but I don't have the timeeeeeeee :( so if you like this, pretty please tell me and put your foot on my butt so I write it :) Inspired by nothing else but my sick twisted mind full of angst. Hope you enjoy!

contents: Best friends turned to friends with benefits turned to (awkward) best friends again turned to ?????? Angst, semi smut (as in descriptions of first time having sex + heavy make out session with grindind and feeling each other up), and more angst because I'm crazy. Eunseok has a girlfriend on the latter part of this, so there's cheating involved (trigger warning). Reader's father dies when she's very young (more trigger warning). Other riize members + random idols mentioned for worldbuilding. No happy ending (for now).

you can also read this work on my ao3, if you'd like

For as long as you can remember, Song Eunseok has been a constant in your life.

Some of your oldest memories are from when you were around six and, by then, you already spent most of your afternoons on playdates with the boy next door and his mom.

Your mother recounts the day you’ve met when you were both five-year-olds with elaborate detail. After your dad’s sudden death scarred your lives, you moved into a far place where nobody knew you. The day you settled in your new house, your mom took you for a stroll around the neighborhood to get to know the area and you ended up in a playground packed with kids from all ages. 

According to her, you were the one who approached Eunseok. He was a shy boy playing by himself on the sand box with his toy rocket ship when you came over, hair in pigtails with pink ribbons and a gap between your teeth from losing your first baby tooth only a week prior, your face eclipsing the sunlight that hit his forehead. Your mom says that when he looked up, anyone could tell he had just found something brighter than the sun to beam over him.

Or at least that’s what she likes to say to get you both flustered now that you’re young adults.

Nevertheless, since that day you’ve been attached at the hip and it was clear that your bright outspoken personality complemented his quiet observant one. Although the contrast sometimes was a bit too much for people. Sunshine extroverted girl running around with brooding introverted boy? It made no sense for them. When you started getting older and others’ comments and side-eyes got progressively worse, you showed everyone how you could be the cross one if they pushed too far. You spent a lot of time kicking shins and pulling heads full of hair from the boys that bullied Eunseok and the girls who talked bad behind his back just because he was timid. You also talked back to any adult who dared to make a nasty comment about your friendship. By the time you reached middle school, everyone in your little town knew not to mess with you or your friend.

Finally, you were free to play and be with Eunseok to your heart’s content, without having to worry about snide remarks that could upset him. Now you could enjoy your time with your best friend from the whole wide world and not care what people think, because for once they were not announcing it to you. It made the connection between you two much stronger.

You constantly reminisce of days spent with him, learning everything there was to know about each other.

The first thing you learnt about Eunseok was how much he likes the universe. He told you everything about it — how old it is, what it is made of, what humanity knows and does not know about it. He told you scientific discoveries and theories, recited every galaxy, planet, meteorite he could remember the name of and filled your days with interesting facts and anecdotes about his passion. Every word out of his mouth would make you gawk, both because of how amazing it all sounded and because you couldn’t believe he was able to gather that much information at such a young age.

When you’d talk about your future selves, you always wished to become something plain and silly as any girl would say, like an actress or an idol, but Eunseok dreamed of greater professions. He wanted to be an astronaut, an aerospace engineer, an astrophysicist, a project manager. Sometimes you’d feel small and pathetic from how big his dreams were compared to yours. But it was your own mind’s fault, never Eunseok’s. He never viewed you as any less than him just because you had differing interests and specially never made you feel stupid for being a girl.

Eunseok took interest in your hobbies. He let you play dress up with him, loving the cute Sanrio hair pins you put on his head and complimenting you on your make up skills once you were done and he looked at himself in the mirror. He listened to you talk for hours about your favorite artists and retell him the plot of the latest drama you were watching with your mom. He became a fan of anime because of you and you started binge-watching a bunch together. He listened to your music and even made you a personal playlist of your favorite artists one day. And he was also the one who accompanied you to their concerts, buying you merch and sticking by your side, laughing whilst you screamed your lungs out for the people on stage.

Getting to know Eunseok and spending time with him was the best part of your days and when people finally stopped disturbing you about your friendship, you had more time to spend with each other. Though you were so relieved about it that you didn’t prepare yourself for the next big change — high school. 

Puberty and hormones are a funny thing. One day your best friend is the rejected loner nerd everybody seems to look down on. The next day he’s the cute sexy boy-with-thick-framed-glasses that everyone is looking at.

You and Eunseok were never ready for the kind of attention he started to receive in your second year of high school. His once perpetually empty desk nook was now filled to the brim with chocolates on Valentine’s Day and notes with declaration of love. Girls suffered when they didn’t get a gift back from him on White Day and suddenly, without your consent, everybody appointed you as Eunseok’s personal messenger, handing over confessions' letters for him during lectures or even dropping them inside your locker or backpack when you weren’t looking. You hand delivered every single one of them to him, complaining about it the whole time, just to watch him read the contents of each letter and then rip them apart, throwing them in the nearest trash can. Whenever you stared at the shreds of paper inside the bin for a second too long, Eunseok grabbed your wrist and pulled you along to walk out the school's hallways with him.

You were always wondering if he liked the attention or not, but you never asked him about it and you’re sure he would never admit it even if that was the case.

Another thing that you wondered about was what the fuck all the girls abruptly started seeing in him. Up until then, you were the only one who knew how special Eunseok was. But that was because you saw something in him on that first day at the playground nobody else did and you spent years actually growing together with him. You knew Eunseok was a kind soul, a helpful friend and an overall amazing guy, but that was because he let you in.

The girls who were flocking behind him didn’t know that he preferred a mango Melona over a watermelon one. Or that he always double knotted his shoelaces and insisted on you doing the same every time you tripped over your shoes. Or that whenever you came back home together, he waited for you to get inside your house and lock the door before going to his home right beside it. They didn’t know he used to help your mom whenever your car had a mechanical problem or that he tasted every single one of your failed baking recipes, no matter how bad they were. They didn’t know he cooked whole meals with his mother and took care of their garden with his father. Or that whenever your mother took the night shift at the hospital, he made you a lunchbox for dinner and for breakfast. They didn’t know he always grabbed you a strawberry milk at the school’s canteen when they were close to running out. Or that when your first boyfriend broke up with you barely two weeks after you started dating, he comforted and hugged you for hours while you cried in his arms. Or that when you told him you didn’t know if the few memories you have of your father were real or just fabricated from old pictures, videos and stories your mother tells you, he comforted you by saying that your heart remembers him and that was what mattered. 

They didn’t know he loved dad jokes and would hit you with them at least three times a day, making you roll your eyes and laugh with every new one out of his mouth. They didn’t know his gruff voice turned soft and airy when he sang and that, on starry nights, he laid by your side on your backyard lawn and talked about all the constellations in the night sky over your heads. They didn’t even know how athletic he actually was and about how you both went to Sungchan’s house every Wednesday after class where Eunseok proceeded to kick Sungchan’s ass at basketball while you watched and sipped on your bubble tea.

You knew Eunseok, those girls didn’t.

They only saw a hint of a stubble on his jaw and his shoulders getting broader one day and decided he was finally worth the attention when you knew of this fact since day one.

And the possibility that any of those desperate tramps could ever get to know him like you did made your stomach churn. Eunseok’s response to them just bugged you further. He never responded to any advances, but never outright rejected them either. He seemed apathetic about it, and maybe that should’ve told you something, but you couldn’t figure it out now and much less when you were sixteen.

Fortunately, after a while, those girls stopped humiliating themselves looking for the attention he never gave them and things more or less went back to normal, with them labeling him as a pretentious loser and going back to their stupid lives. And you had him all to yourself again.

The next time your relationship with Eunseok changed only happened in the winter break before your last year of school and it was provoked by you. You still don’t know why you did what you did. Maybe it was the hormones. Maybe it was the small list of guys that had already broken your heart by then. Maybe it was just the fear of going to college as a still inexperienced and never desired eighteen-year-old. Maybe it was because you were afraid of the near future, of a life without Eunseok coming just around the corner.

You knew that once you finished high school, he would probably study in Seoul or maybe even go abroad. The life in your little town would never be enough for him. He was too intelligent and dedicated to his studies to not aim high. And you would just stay behind, because you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving your mom alone in the world and because you were never a good student anyway. The thing with being extroverted is that it can land you many contacts, but they won’t mean a thing if you don’t have the qualifications to back them up. Either way, you were stuck there. Eunseok would fly and you would just watch and cheer for him from afar. So you needed something to hold on to, something to completely mark the memories you had together forever.

All you remember is that you were huddled together inside his room, on your weekly movie night, watching an anime Eunseok loved for the thousandth time and you got distracted by his eyelashes, how they softly pressed the skin under his waterline anytime he blinked, how the blue glow from the TV made they seem a tone lighter and smooth to the touch, and how desperately you needed to feel them with your fingertips. Next, you stared at his eyebrows, thick and designed and really pretty. Really really pretty. Like all of him. Then, while he was laughing about something in the movie, you raised your hand as if to mindlessly touch his brows because it was like they were calling to you, but Eunseok caught your wrist mid-movement, pulling back before you could graze his skin.

He gasped and looked at you with wide eyes and you asked him the most ridiculous question that ever came out of your mouth.

“Seok, will you be my first?” You said.

He didn’t ask what you meant, because he knew exactly what you were talking about. He didn’t ask if you were serious, because he knew you were. He didn’t ask if you were sure, because he also knew you were. Because he knew you. One look at your face and he could see the sincerity dripping from your whole being.

“Yes,” he replied a half second later. And then he pulled you in for a kiss.

You would like to say that you kept your calm through all of it, that you didn’t feel shaken or nauseated with nerves and that you did everything exactly like the magazines guided, like your friends talked about when telling their experiences, like the spicy videos you watched late at night showed, like the romantic movies made it seem. You’d like to say that you kissed Eunseok with certainty, that you took off your clothes sensually and that you grabbed his cock the right way.

But Eunseok’s bedroom would beg to differ. The laptop on his study desk saw how your lips faltered over his skin and overheard your frenzied mind wondering if you were doing everything right. His calendar snickered at you while your t-shirt got stuck on your earring on its way off your body and how you fumbled to free the fabric and almost ripped your ear off. The posters on his walls watched your trembling fingers struggling with the buckle on his belt for thirty seconds until Eunseok took pity on you and unfastened it himself. The clock beside his TV looked at your expectant eyes when he deposited kisses on the valley between your breasts and continued going down, down, down. When his fingers inside you were unexpectedly precise in driving you to your first peak and you asked him if he had done that before, the lamp on his nightstand listened to the sound of your disappointed gasp after he said “Yes”. His sheets felt the nervous tugs of your hand whilst you pumped Eunseok’s dick in an unsteady rhythm and at an awkward angle with your other hand. His bed frame picked up on your hoarse moans once he finally slid into you, sounds that only grew louder and raspier with each drive of his hips forward. His mattress could testify to how slick you got in between your legs and about the mess you left behind. His books eavesdropped on you promising to each other in between whimpers that it was only a one time thing, never to happen again, and that it wouldn’t change your friendship. And once your joint orgasm took over you both, the stars stickers on his ceiling shined bright right at your wrecked and fucked out face.

After, when your head was laying on Eunseok’s chest and he started to snore, you reached out and touched his eyebrows and lashes, brushing against them one by one while an indescribable feeling took over you.

You’d also like to say that you kept your promise or that at least you tried to keep it, but two days later you both found ourselves in the same compromising position — naked and on his bed. By the start of the school year, you were meeting up almost everyday and fucking at least for three days out of the week.

Being with Eunseok like that showed you a whole new side of him. Of course he still took care of you in every way possible, but he stopped being so nice and gentle all the time. There was no space for tenderness when he was too busy fucking you from behind, tweaking your peaked nipples, thrusting his cock into your mouth until you gagged on it, collecting your drool to use as lubricant, curling his fingers deep inside you, telling you how much he loved your cunt and begging you to cum for him. But you preferred it this way. You could take his rough fucking.

What you couldn’t handle were the soft moments in between, when he brushed your sweaty hair back and gazed deeply into your eyes, and when he asked in his softest voice if you were feeling good — if he was the reason you felt so good —, and when he told you how much he liked you and how perfect you were for him, and when he admitted he thought about you two like that for so long, and when he murmured sweet words to you like a prayer, and when he caressed your skin as if you were a goddess and he was your faithful servant.

What you really couldn’t handle was Eunseok’s confession three months later. The look on his face when you replied to his "I love you" with “You deserve someone better than me” will haunt you forever. You had never seen him put on his clothes and storm out of your room so fast before.

After that night, you didn’t hook up again and things turned awkward. But Eunseok was still a kind soul, a helpful friend and an overall amazing guy. All he gave you was three weeks of complete radio silence — no texts, no calls, no extracurricular meetings, not even a glance your way during classes. You even stopped going to and coming back from school together. And then on one sunny Tuesday, when you were on your way home in the afternoon, he trailed behind you and eventually your footsteps fell side by side. Eunseok didn’t say a thing whilst your sneakers pressed against the pavement at the same rhythm. You also didn’t dare to speak a single word, afraid any sound would scare him away.

Once you pulled up in front of your neighboring houses he picked some papers from inside his backpack and handed them to you.

“I took a copy of my notes from Calculus III. For that exam on Friday,” he explained.

You grabbed the sheets of paper and looked at his carefully crafted handwriting photocopied on them, how it was gentle and soft like almost everything he did. You looked up at him and asked, “Why are you giving me this?

He shrugged. “Thought you might need it.”

“Does this mean we are friends again?” You asked, your voice hopeful and unsure.

“You’ll always be my best friend, Y/N,” he said and his words carried a sorrow that pained your heart deeply.

Then he turned, climbed the three steps of his front porch and entered his house. He didn’t wait for you to get inside your home and lock the door like he used to. He just left you there. You felt relieved that he put himself over you at least once. Even if it was also his way of forgiving you.

It took a while for you to feel comfortable with each other again. And even still, it wasn’t the same as before. You had to find a new normal.

The new normal came with not having Eunseok doing so many nice things to you. He didn’t let you get the last pizza slice anymore or save you a seat on school’s assemblies you always got late to. Your once duo movie nights turned into something you’d do with a group of friends, at least one other person to ease the obvious tension still lingering in between you. And that’s when group gatherings, either going out with friends or meeting at someone’s house, became even more common. Because being alone with him in an enclosed space was definitely off limits. You needed to fill all the space in between you with people and things so there wouldn't be any left for thoughts and feelings.

The new normal also included saying goodbye to Eunseok at the end of the year. He ended up enrolled at Pusan National University’s science program and you stayed at your town studying tourism in a local uni. His college was still close to your town, it was only one hour and ten minutes drive from your house to his dorm, maybe one and a half if there was traffic. And he came home every other weekend, where you’d often meet and be your childhood selves together again. Still, not having him part of your everyday life hurt you more than you thought it would.

Then, two months after your second year at college started, he showed up at your house late on a Friday night, all merry and giddy. You immediately knew something was up.

“I have to tell you something,” he said under the light of your entryway while he took off his shoes.

“What is it?” You asked, taking a step back to prepare yourself for the news.

“I have a girlfriend,” he whispered, breaking your heart in a million pieces.

Her name is Sian and she is everything you aren’t — lovable, smart, caring, and with the same interests as Eunseok.

When he brought her home one weekend, she was warm and kind. She talked to you as if you were a close friend and apparently did not care a bit that you, another woman, are Eunseok’s best friend. Also, she makes Eunseok grin like no one else does and you’re grateful for that, because his smiles are hard to come by ever since that night you told him he deserves someone better. Turns out he did find someone better. And you can’t even hate her because she is a truly good person. But you do envy her.

That’s what you’re doing right now, envying Sian. It’s movie night and Eunseok is at your room, the both of you together and alone again after so many years, courtesy of Sungchan, Chaeryeong and Wonbin blowing you off to warm themselves up at a winter break party rather than hide at home under the blankets. It feels both awkward and familiar to be here with him, mostly because Eunseok is supposed to be watching the movie with you. You are supposed to be watching the movie, too, but you’re stuck observing him from the corner of your eye for fifteen minutes while he smiles and types away at his phone, texting his girlfriend. Said girlfriend who is currently traveling around France with her parents and bombing Eunseok’s phone with photos of her smiling prettily under the Eiffel Tower, in front of the Louvre, at Champs-Élysées. You don’t know why she takes so many photos. You don’t know why Eunseok has to react to every single one of them with a heart emoji and tell her how beautiful she looks. But you suppose that when you're pretty and rich and go to expensive places and have a caring boyfriend, that’s what happens. Not that you’d know any of that.

The thing is, envying Sian is not new to you. You’ve become used to it. It's quite easy to do it, actually. Because she has everything whilst you have nothing. She has money, beauty, intelligence and love. She has loyal friends and good people by her side. She has a balanced family and absolutely no childhood trauma from what you can tell. She definitely has some procedures on her face and her teeth are so perfect and bright it hurts your eyes. And she has an alive father, one that would for sure make a lovely father-in-law for Eunseok one day. Because she also has Eunseok.

And you like Sian. You really like her. But you can’t stand another minute of Eunseok not paying attention to anything that isn’t her – not paying attention to you.

“Seok, you’re not watching the movie,” you finally say after putting up with his constant texting for the last fifteen minutes.

He looks at you for a beat and puts his phone face down over his stomach, eyes shifting back to the laptop screen glowing in front of you both. “Sorry.”

He stays like that for a while, but then his phone vibrates and its screen glows and he picks it up again, spending another few minutes typing.

You shift uncomfortably on the far corner of your bed, the space between you and Eunseok as wide as the emotional distance you both created. “Eunseok, come on,” you whine, turning to him. “Are you for real right now?”

He doesn’t even glance your way this time, choosing to remain focused on whatever message he’s writing. “Sorry, I’m just texting Sian,” he says, as if you don’t know it already.

You sigh. “I know, but can’t you do it another time?”

“No. We haven’t been able to talk for a few days because of the time zones’ difference. And right now we’re both free and awake,” he explains.

His answer shoots an arrow straight through your chest. “Except you’re not free,” you remind him, your voice getting a tone higher. “You’re busy watching a movie with me!”

“Well, I need a couple minutes to talk with my girlfriend!” He counters.

“It’s been a couple minutes, alright? It’s been a few minutes, actually!”

“Y/N, I really don’t get what the problem is,” he says, finally looking at you again, seeming exasperated.

“The problem is you’re not watching the freaking movie!” You exclaim, feeling annoyed yourself.

He has the audacity to roll his eyes at you and turn back to his phone. “We watched this movie a billion times already.”

“It’s our favorite movie!” You say through gritted teeth, feeling offended.

“And we watched it a billion times before,” he repeats with a condescending tone, like he’s talking to a dumb kid. “My point still stands.”

“Well, if that’s how it’s gonna be,” you start, shutting the laptop down. You crawl down the bed and carry it with you before flicking your light back on, beyond yourself with anger. “Then movie night is over!” You finish, reaching for your study desk and putting your laptop on it with a little too much force.

Eunseok rubs at his eyes for a moment, the sudden clarity obviously affecting his vision as much as it’s affecting yours, but you’re too busy being mad to care for it. 

Once he’s done adjusting his eyes, he comes back to the argument. “Oh God, it’s just a movie. You are so dramatic!”

His words only hurt you more. “If I’m so dramatic, why don’t you go back to your home and never look at me again since that’s what you prefer anyway?”

Eunseok stares at you for a second, then blinks. “What?”

“I said if I’m so dramatic—”

“No, no, no,” he interrupts you, flinging himself from the bed and tossing his phone at your nightstand in a single move. “I heard what you said, but what the fuck do you mean about it?”

You cross your arms, still defensive and livid. “Oh, come on, Eunseok! You don’t talk with me anymore. I know nothing about your life except for when you’re speaking about Sian. And that is all you talk about — Sian, Sian, Sian, all the fucking time. You never make time for us. And when by a chance we do have the opportunity to spend some time together, again you’re talking with her? You don’t pay attention to me and you don’t fucking care anymore! So if you don’t want my friendship, just say it and go away! We can be done and over with it!”

“Where did you get the idea that I don’t care about you? If I didn’t care, why would I be here?” He says, tips of his ears and apple of his cheeks getting red.

“But you’re not here!” You yell, moving a little towards him and slamming your hand on your dresser. A few of your personal items on it shake and fall. “You haven’t been here for a while now. You’re not present in this friendship anymore. We don’t talk, we don’t go out, we don’t stay in together. We never do anything just the two of us. We’re never alone and never together, not truly. And even when we’re with other people, your mind is also elsewhere all the time. Everything just feels empty and superficial between us.”

Eunseok’s face gets redder with each word you utter and when you’re finished he spats at you, “And whose fault is that, Y/N? Who the fuck ruined everything between us?”

“Oh, so now you’re ready to talk about it?” You question, taking a step in his direction and crossing your arms. “Not gonna act like a coward and pretend nothing happened like usual?”

He also starts to walk towards you. “I’m a coward? You’re the one who walked away from us because you were too afraid of taking a chance!”

“And I regret it everyday!” You exclaim. “I get that I hurt you, Eunseok. I get that, okay? But also, I just miss us!” Your throat tightens and your voice starts to get shaky and heavy, all thanks to your upcoming tears. “I miss you! I miss you so freaking bad!”

It’s then that you start to cry, overcome with guilt and remorse, tears flowing from your eyes and cascading on your flushed face.

Eunseok’s temper tones down at your reaction and he takes a step back to assess your state. When the tears don’t stop after a few seconds, he looks at you with sorrow in his eyes. “Y/N,” he says, voice soft and understanding.

You press the heels of your hands into your eyes and turn away at him, hiding from the pity in his gaze by leaning your head against the wall. Your arm accidentally bumps against the light switch when you do it and the room darkens around you.

It’s quiet for a while. Just the sound of your sobs and hiccups and Eunseok’s ragged breath near the bed. You can hear that he’s trying to calm himself down, taking deep breaths in and out. Then you hear the noise of his sock-covered foot sliding across your floor, informing you he’s taking a hesitant step toward you. After that one, comes a new step. And another. And one more. And after a couple more, you feel his presence a hair’s breadth away from you. It’s warm and inviting and it takes everything in you not to lean back against it.

But you don’t have to, because a moment later he’s closing the distance. His arms cross over the front of your stomach, his chest meets your back and his chin rests on the crown of your head. He’s enveloping you in a hug from behind, over and under you. His scent invades your nostrils – clean softener, cedar wood and a touch of the citrus hand cream you gave him weeks prior. It feels suffocating in the best way possible. You don’t want him to ever let you go.

“Oh, Y/N,” he sighs. “I had no idea you felt like that.” He tightens his arms around you and continues. “I miss you, too. I miss you so much.”

“I didn’t know,” you stutter. “You never told me.”

“Yeah, I guess we’re both losers with a communication problem, right?” He says with a chuckle, his chest trembling against your back. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you sob, shaking your head. “Seok, I’m so sorry. For so many things.”

“Yeah?” He asks, pulling some hair away from the side of your face and snuggling his head on your shoulder. “Can you look at me and say that to my face, though?”

“Seok,” you whine, feeling guilty and vulnerable.

“Please?” He asks in a melodic voice. You can feel his breath right at your pulse and it takes everything in you not to ask him to kiss you. “I need to see your face to know that you really mean it.”

You sigh deeply, still ashamed, but does as he says. You do it slowly though. First you back away from the wall and pull your hands from your eyes, blinking at the shift from a complete blackout to the darkness of your room, still illuminated by the soft light of the hallway infiltrating from your half open door. Then you hastily clean a few tears from your face and brush your hair down, flicking it over your shoulders and trying to look like less of a hot mess. Only then you turn around to Eunseok and he lets his hands drift from the front of your stomach to your waist, still holding you close.

Your eyes dance over his form. Looking at his arms, his chest, his stomach, his shoulders. Everywhere but his face. He just waits while you gather courage, seconds passing through you.

Once you feel ready, you take another deep breath and look up, finally meeting his brown eyes again. They don’t have that anger that was present there a few minutes ago. The grudge they carried for you for years is also not there anymore. It makes you feel like crying again.

“Seok, I’m so sorry,” you hiccup, growing agitated again, new tears welling up your eyes. “I’m so sorry for so many things. For hurting you and for not talking about it and for not apologizing earlier and for not saying how—”

“Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, pretty girl,” he coos, hands cradling your face to wipe at your tear streaked skin. “I know. I believe you, okay? I really do.”

“I was so dumb, I’m still so dumb. I never told you—”

“Hey, no, don’t talk about my best friend like that, please,” he says, pulling you in so the side of your face is pressed against his chest.

You slide your hands under his arms and around his back, wrapping your arms around him to pull him back against you, his heartbeat echoing in your ear. “I’m still your best friend?” You ask, voice small and quivering.

He snickers and you feel his nose touching the crown of your head. His chest expands behind your cheek when he takes a whiff of your hair. “Haven’t I told you that already?” He says, each word making his lips move against your scalp. “You’ll always be my best friend, Y/N. Nothing can change that.”

You continue crying, dampening his t-shirt with your tears. “I was so afraid we’d never talk again.”

“I know, sweetheart, but you don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’m here with you now, right?”

“Are you? For real?” You ask, pushing off his chest to glance up at him.

Eunseok’s gaze melts at your insecurity and he lifts a hand to massage behind your head. “I am. For real.”

“You don’t hate me, then?” You ask, just to be sure.

“I could never hate you, Y/N. Where did you get that idea?”

You shrug and look down, biting on your lower lip. “I don’t know.”

But you do know. You thought he hated you because of what you did. And he’d had every right to if that was the case. You’re lucky he’s always been a kind soul, a helpful friend and an overall amazing guy.

He bends a little to catch your gaze, his thumb grazing your chin. “I’m here and I don’t hate you. I’ll be present again in this friendship from now on. Can you also do that?”

You nod quickly. “Yes, I can.”

“Great. Then we’re settled,” he says.

You smile and Eunseok smiles back at you. Then he rests his forehead on yours, sweeping back some strands of your hair and tucking them in behind your ear. You close your eyes and bask in his presence, at the certainty he's here with you now. You still have a lot to talk about, but you can do it calmly and over time. Right now what matters is that you found a middle ground. Everything else can wait a little bit longer.

You stay like that for a while, hugging tightly, feeling each other, growing confident the other won’t slip away. Until something shifts. Eunseok’s hands slide from the back of your head to your neck, his thumbs brushing on your skin. You know it’s an innocent act, that he’s just shifting his position a little. But you can’t contain the involuntary shiver that runs through your spine. You visibly shake in his embrace, opening your eyes with a gasp to find him already gazing deeply at you, his eyes darker than the last time you looked at him.

You flinch back and squeeze your eyes shut. “Sorry, I—”

“Don’t say sorry,” Eunseok commands, his voice lower than you've ever heard before. He rubs his thumbs down your clavicle and your body trembles again. “Don’t you ever say sorry about that.”

You take a shaky breath, the tension filling your nerves, and open your eyes again. He’s still looking at you and his fingers press against your nape to pull your face closer to his, his nose brushing against yours.

“Seok,” you whisper, not knowing if you’re giving him a warning or begging for something more.

He makes an appreciative sound behind his throat and presses his mouth on your skin timidly, his touch barely there. “I missed you saying my name like that so much,” he says, running his lips on your cheek. “It always sounds so airy, like just saying it gets you hot and bothered.”

You gulp down, processing his words. Eunseok just crossed a line saying that to you. And if you reply to him with what you have in mind, you’ll cross another. Then you’ll be playing a dangerous game, toying with the limits of your just recovered friendship and with the relationship he’s in. You’ve been here before and it did not go well for either of you. Chances are it won’t have a better outcome this time.

But it just feels so good… Would it really be so bad to cross just another teeny tiny line?

“You always get me hot and bothered,” you admit, feeling your chest constrict with guilt and desire.

Deep down you know this is wrong, you know Eunseok knows this is wrong. He has a girlfriend. He was talking to her barely ten minutes ago. Your friendship was just secured a few moments ago. You can’t do this. Whatever this is, you can’t go through with it. It wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be safe. It wouldn’t be wise.

The tension stretches whilst Eunseok doesn’t respond to you immediately. He remains silent for a beat, and then another one, and you’re about to retract your words, when he chuckles, blowing air on your face.

“I know, baby,” he says, the pet name and the way he says it going straight to your core.  You decide to throw all caution out the window. You can’t go back now. Not anymore. To be honest, you could never deny him again.

He slides a hand down your body, his fingers brushing your clavicle and shoulder, then going to your back to skim over your spine. It trails lower until it squeezes your waist and pulls you more into him, making your bodies impossibly closer. “I felt that shiver, too, you know? I always feel so good when I’m close to you. It’s a big problem.”

You let him feel you up, fisting the front of his t-shirt on your hands while you try to remain calm. You’re frozen in place and completely at his mercy. You’ll give him everything he wants from you. You’re his for the taking. You always were.

His mouth brushes against the corner of your lips and you tilt your head up to preen closer to the touch, trying to draw out the feeling of his lips so close to yours for as long as possible.

Eunseok presses a kiss there and his hand glides under your top to feel the warm skin of your lower back. “When I was younger, I always had a boner whenever you so much as looked my way. I jerked off so many times thinking about you,” he reveals, careful eyes watching your reaction to his words. “I still do.”

You choke at the last piece of information, mind reeling with it. He used to touch himself to the thought of you. He still does it now. You wonder how he looks while he does it — how he sounds, how much precum he lets gather at the tip of his cock before touching it, how fast he cums. Almost all air leaves your lungs whilst you think about it.

“Really?” You ask, voice faltering. “Even after everything?”

He nods. “Even after everything. Even now. I can’t get you out of my head.” His fingers start to draw figure eights on your back. “I had to occupy myself with so many things to forget you. I tried so hard, but it was no use.”

Your heartbeat is wild and you’re trembling constantly now. But Eunseok doesn’t seem to care. He just pulls you closer and touches you more, making it impossible for you to stop shivering.

“Me too,” you confess, hands sliding up to the collar of his shirt, gripping it tightly. “No matter how hard I try, I can’t get over you. Over us. I still think about it all the time.”

“Yeah? What do you think about, baby?” He asks, putting his face in the crook between your neck and shoulder.

Your desire gathers between your legs and pools on your underwear so much it starts to feel uncomfortable. You need to take it off of you. You need him to take it off of you. You need him.

“I think about when we used to have fun together,” you say, wrapping your arms over his back.

“Oh,” he utters, descending both of his hands to fit them on your back pockets, squeezing your ass and flattening you against him, his hard-on nestled inside his jeans pressing against your pants’ crotch. It feels amazing. “You think about something like this?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, shifting your hips up to feel more of him. “When I touch myself, I always think about that.”

He releases a breath and drops a kiss on your neck, squeezing you more against him. “What more do you think about?”

“Your pretty cock,” you whisper, running a hand through his hair. “I think about how I used to suck it off and bounce on it. I miss it so much.”

“Oh shit, Y/N,” he groans, pelvis pulling back just to push forwards again, creating delicious friction between you. You feel dizzy with desire and you can only hope he feels the same way.

“Thinking about you always gets me so wet. I’m dripping by the time I’m finished,” you mutter, then you move your lips to his ear, preparing yourself to deal your final blow. “I’m so fucking wet for you right now, Seok.”

It’s Eunseok that shivers this time.

“Fuck, I wanna see that,” he says, a hand snaking in between your legs, cupping your sex over your pants. “I wanna feel it. Can I, baby?”

“Please,” you beg, pulling his face down by his collar until his forehead is pressed against yours again. “I need you so bad. You have no idea.”

“You got me, baby,” he whispers. “You got me.” And then he’s diving in to kiss you.

Eunseok kisses you like he’s claiming you and you kiss him back like you can’t bear spending another moment without his lips touching yours. It’s messy and sloppy, your mouths and tongues trying to suck and lick anything you’re able to reach, your teeth clenching together and biting sensitive skin. Each time one of you pulls back, the other moves forward again to connect your lips.

Kissing like this shows you just how much you wasted time not doing what you wanted. You could’ve been doing this for ages, you could be experienced professionals about how to make each other feel good. You could’ve been loving each other this close and this deeply instead of avoiding your feelings. God, you were so stupid for the longest time.

You’re completely out of breath once Eunseok’s lips slip down to kiss your neck, making you moan and shiver. Then he’s pushing you up until you land on the top of the dresser and you’re glad you have something to support yourself because your legs were about to give out at any moment.

He puts his body in between your thighs and pulls you to the edge of the dresser until he can roll his hips against yours again. You moan in unison and his hands squeeze your thighs whilst he resumes attacking your neck with his mouth.

“I thought about this so much,” you say, grinding on him. “Wishing we could do this all the time.” You pull on his hair until he’s looking at you again. “I always wanted you, Eunseok. Always.”

“I did, too,” he replies, hands slipping under your top to feel your bare skin, thumbs pressing on your sides.

You slide a hand down his stomach to find his belt, pulling on the buckle to unfasten it. Once you’re done, you pull it from his jeans quickly and throw it on the floor. “That’s not the only thing. What I’m trying to say is—”

The air is pulled from your lungs when Eunseok picks you up again and tosses you on your bed, crawling right up to your body until he’s hovering above you. The manhandling gets you light-headed and his hands coming up to cup your breasts empties your brain completely. 

You can’t remember what you were saying. Your focus just zeros in on the way he’s ravishing you.

“Y/N,” he whispers while kissing your jaw.

“Yes?” You say, still dazed.

He moves his hand down to the button of your jeans, toying with it for a moment before pulling it out of its loop and drawing your zipper down. His hands skim on the waistband of your panties and you groan, feeling the heat of his fingertips so close to where you most want him.

“What you’re trying to say is?” He asks, tone light and fun, clearly teasing you for your dazed state for the past minute.

Your brain awakes again and you squeeze his arms, remembering what you were about to confess. “Right. What I’m trying to say is—”

Eunseok sucks on your pulse point and you groan, turned on and frustrated. You know he’ll just keep fogging your mind further until you are a blabbering mess. And although you’re not opposed to that, you really need a moment to catch your breath so you can communicate with him properly. After that, you can do what you both are clearly desperate to do.

“Wait,” you whisper, pushing on his shoulders. “I need a second.”

He pulls back slightly and looks at you, watching your chest heave with each breath you take. “You want to stop?”

You shake your head immediately and press your elbows to the mattress, supporting your head up to look at him. “No. I just need to tell you something.”

His fingers dig on your waist. “Sure, baby. What is it?”

You sigh, moving a hand to his chest and trying to make the words in your brain get out of your mouth. “What I’m trying to say is—” The words get stuck in your throat, a new wave of sudden sensibility hitting you right in the chest, impending them from coming out. You feel you’re about to sob again. “Fuck, I’m saying that I—”

The letters are right there, resting on the tip of your tongue, but they just refuse to get out. I love you, you wanna say. I love you, you wanna scream. I love you, I love you, I love you. That’s all you think about. Three little words that have been swimming inside you for as long as you remember. You waited your whole life to say that to him and now that you’re desperate to say it, your voice fails you, your fear taking over your mind, new tears welling up on your throat.

Eunseok watches you expectantly, just waiting. He’s patient with you, like he is most of the time. His eyes show that he knows what you’re going to say, but also that he badly needs to hear it, probably just as much as you need to tell him. It gives you the strength to push through your last restraints.

You take another shuddering breath and lock your eyes with his. “Seok, I lo—”

Then a sudden sound makes you both jump and he pulls back from you as you sit up on the bed. It takes a second to identify what it is, but the realization downs you both at the same time, your heads tilting together to look at the origin of the noise. It’s Eunseok’s ringtone accompanied by his phone vibrating on your bedside table. He’s receiving a call. And you don’t have to look at his screen to see who the caller is. You know it’s Sian. The woman he just cheated on with you.

Eunseok scurries down the bed to pick up his phone, turning his volume all the way down until the only sign of his girlfriend calling him is the picture glowing under her name on his screen. Then he puts the device into his pants’s pocket and stares at the wall in front of him. His back is turned to you and his shoulders are stiff whilst his phone screen still lights up inside his back pocket until it stills. But barely two seconds later it starts flashing again and you know Sian won’t stop calling until he picks up.

You just fucked up. Majorly so. 

Hurting each other in the midst of your confusing feelings was all you’ve ever done in your life. The sting burned like hell, but it was your way, your uncomfortable comfort zone, something you’ve gotten used to. Upsetting and harmful, but still familiar, still you two. But hurting another person because of it — someone who has nothing to do with your shit, who is a good person above and all? That was a whole new level of dark and twisted.

You sigh, extremely disappointed with yourself, and run your hands through your hair. You knew you were a bad person, but apparently you never thought it would get to this extent. And now here you are.

What pulls you from the bed and puts you on your feet is Eunseok complete stillness. He’s quiet until his phone stops ringing for the third time, probably taking his girlfriend to voicemail. And he remains quiet when it starts to ring again. You get up to comfort him, to put a hand on his shoulder, because you can’t take seeing him hurt by something that is obviously your fault.

You were the one who held back your feelings. You were the one who made him confused. You were the one that confronted him, screamed and cried. You let him hug you, leaned into his arms, shivered and whispered his name like a prayer. You teased him, tempted him, made him cheat. Eunseok isn’t guilty of any of this, you are. It’s your responsibility to take.

You get off the bed and walk towards him. “Seok,” you say, reaching a hand out to touch his shoulder.

However, Eunseok flinches away from you, instantly springing back to life and starting to zip up his pants again. You pull your hand back to rest it against your chest, clenching it into a fist and holding your wrist with your other hand.

“I think I should go,” he says to the wall.

You take a step back and sigh. Guilt, shame, fear and rejection pull on your heartstrings, making your chest tight. You don’t have the energy nor the audacity to ask him to stay. Not after what you’ve just done.

“Okay,” you say in a small voice.

Eunseok turns to you, but his eyes look at a distant point at your bedroom wall. “I think we shouldn’t see each other for a while.”

You gulp down the tears swelling on your throat and nod. “Okay.”

He finally looks at you, eyes heavy with remorse. “I just need some time and space, Y/N.”

“Sure, I’ll give them to you,” you say, plastering a fake smile on your face, trying to comfort him despite falling apart inside. ”Whatever you need, Seok.”

“Thank you,” he sighs.

Then he’s back to recomposing himself and collecting some of his things left on the floor and you just stay there, watching him until he’s done. On his way out of your room, he brushes past you and stops. You hold your breath as he gets close and presses his lips to your temple.

“Bye, Y/N-ie,” he whispers over your skin.

You close your eyes and whisper back, “Bye, Seokie.”

Then he exits, hurried steps following down your house hallway. You hear him quickly put on his shoes at the hall and a small beat of silence just before he opens the door. Then the lock clicks open, a gust of wind whistles through it and you know he’s out, the automatic alarm of the door locking it closed, leaving you all alone again.

You fall to the floor, legs too weak to hold the heavy weight on your heart, and look up to the pegboard over your dresser, filled with trinkets and many pictures — pictures of you and Eunseok together.

There’s one of you as five-year-olds at the playground you met and one of you behind Eunseok’s solar system mock up he did for a science fair when you were eight. There’s one of you at twelve playing a shooting game at an arcade and another of you when you skipped class to spend a day at the beach at fourteen. There’s another one of you working together at a part-time job in a cafe when you were sixteen and even a selfie from one of your many movie nights at seventeen. There’s one of you at a burger place when you were eighteen, looking at each other and laughing.

And the last one is just of Eunseok, taken a year back, when things were already too messy in between you. In the image, he’s as handsome as ever, looking down to write something on a notepad, his hair swept back and his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. You remember the distance between his frames and his eyes made you focus on his eyelashes, just like that other time, and that a stirring on your chest made you snap the photo silently and keep it to yourself.

Looking at all of your sacred memories with him, you can’t stop the tears from falling down your face, afraid you just lost the one constant in your life forever.

author's note: Don't hate me, hate Song Eunseok who inspired me to write this. If you want a part of two, comments and asks are welcomed so I'm sure you guys actually like this. Thank you for reading, as always!

[huntingcupid]

MULTO — J.Y

hindi na na-nanaginip hindi na ma-makagising pasindi na ng ilaw minumulto na 'ko ng damdamin ko ng damdamin ko 'di mo ba ako lilisanin? hindi pa ba sapat pagpapahirap sa 'kin?

⌗ YOONCHAE — fem!reader, angst, hurt no comfort, exes, crying, long distance relationship, lovers to strangers, etc...

⌗ SYPNOSIS — 2 years had passed yet even as you see her succeeding you can't help but feel a twinge of sorrow, missing what you two used to be, what you could've been

⌗ CUPID — hihi multo means ghost by the way its a filipino song by cup of joe, its meaning is dealing with a person ypu loved dissappearing/growing distant, and how their presence haunts you, aka missing them

the café was quiet only the hum of the soft music playing from the TV was audible and the soft clicking of keyboards, you had chose this place to study

you weren't one to go to public places to read nor learn you preferred the comfort of your dorm yet for once maybe you wanted a challenge, it smelled heavenly in here as well and unlike other cafés whom have bitter or oversweet tasting matcha they had a pretty good one a perfect balance if you do say so yourself

after typing in the last few words of your essay, you stretched and unexpectedly looked at the tv, It was playing random kpop and western music, but somehow katseye was playing the song “touch” — you stared at it for a bit, and seeing yoonchae was something you didn’t want to do

yoonchae and you were highschool sweethearts, the two quiet nerdy girls in the back of the class giggling over stupid jokes and making silly doodles on each others notebooks — it all changed when yoonchae told you about her auditioning to a company named hybe

“wait, does that mean you're gonna leave me?” you murmur, you two sat in front of a convenience store sipping on hot instant ramen — “i- uhm i don't know y/n — but I'm not accepted yet! we can still stay together” yoonchae says trying to brighten up the mood her hands covering yours as she rubs her thumb across your palm

you nod, yet deep down you knew she already got accepted, yoonchae dreamed about being an idol, she would yap to you for hours on end, showing fancams of her favorite groups — smiling stupidly when seeing girls her age debuting

“yoon, you know I'll support you right? — it's okay if you leave it's for your dreams anyway” you mutter back looking into the youngers eyes seeing a hint of hesitation, you knew how much she loved you, how much she cared about you — you cared the same way, so if that meant letting her go you would do it with no problem, “but, i-” the Korean tried reasoning before you shake your head just smiling softly at her

“yoon, it's alright — if you need me I'm only one call away” you replied, at that moment yoonchaes shoulders weren't tense anymore and she looked rather calmer — “i love you” she says shyly blushing lightly, “i love you more dummy” you giggle

that month yoonchae started packing and buying random things to bring, sending random letters to her other friends and distant family — she started missing school and deleting her posts on social media which you knew was needed but some of the post was your memories with her,

"사랑 (love) i have to go tomorrow, can you help me get to the airport?” yoonchae asks over the phone — you smile to yourself but a twinge of sadness started spreading in you, “yes of course darling” you replied, yoonchae then talks about the place she was going to and how different it looked until you two fell asleep while on call

the morning of the youngers flight you wait outside her house, seeing her walk out with her life in two huge bags was something that definitely hurt and made you proud — she's growing up so quickly, you felt tears fall to your cheeks and immediately yoonchae comes running to you, “are you crying?, baby don't cry!” yoonchae murmurs hugging you tightly

her head on your shoulders as you let her vanilla perfume invade your senses — “mhm, I'm just happy seeing you be brave and grow so fast” you mutter back, her mom hugs you two and smile softly — the drive was short yet with yoonchaes hand over yours it felt like forever, you'd often steal glances at her seeing how happy she looked and excited she was made you the happiest woman ever

the car parked near the entrance and you helped the younger bring her bags in, it felt like time was moving so quickly

yoonchae started crying as she hugs her family and finally you, she murmurs a bunch of things talking about how nervous and worried she is yet you reassured her – it felt unreal that she was leaving alone, and you didn't want to cry, you didn't want to make her feel worse, so you smile through it and just waved her off

that very night you sobbed into your pillows already missing the girl, missing her hug, her jokes and her voice — you went through you favorite albums in your gallery, pictures of you two or just her — drawing, dancing, singing or going to the park

the first week you two learned how to get over the time difference and with her busy schedule, the second week you stopped calling reasoning that she needed to focus on her training, the third you two mutually agreed to stop talking — it hurt yet you knew it was for the best,

"its for the best right?" yoonchae asks almost hesistant her voice small and fragile, "it is yoonie, i love you okay?" you mutter back tears flowing to your face, yoonchae murmurs an i love you back before the call ended, the very last call you two had

you'd silently support her, voting for her every mission even making a fan account, when she debuted it felt like you also got your dream come true, after her debut you stopped watching her content and started focusing on yourself, studying and studying

you'd often stumble across old pictures and your texts with yoonchae and reminisce about what you two were, your classmates would ask if you two were still talking, you'll dodge the question and try to keep her name out of your mind yet when the nights too lonely, you'd relapse and think about her again

you blink and turn back to your laptop, biting your lip as you fight back your emotions, checking your essay one final time before packing up and leaving the café, yoonchae was and will always be the right person, yet you two met in the wrong time, fell in love at the wrong time — all you hope was for her to be happy, happy that her and your dreams were now accomplished, she'll always be in your mind, in your heart like a ghost haunting your everyday life, yet this ghost you didn't want to leave

wc: 1.1k words

hey erm i love yoonchae so this is literally the most angsty thing i can write for her oml

[starfxkrinc]

first fuck with bsfdad!jj

comin over tonight?

three words had your heart thumping against your chest. ever since the night jj kissed you things have gotten more intense, he would catch you alone in different corners of the house to kiss you and touch you--all the while making it abundantly clear your shorts were the cause of his raging hard on.

in all honesty it made you rethink past interactions with him. every smile, every pat on the shoulder, every time he brushed against you on the way to the fridge. it made you wonder if your crush wasn't completely one sided. god can you even call what he has a crush? it feels so juvenile. a 46 year old man crushing on you. but he was nicer to you than the rest of reed's friends, and it can't totally be because you've been around the longest.

it took everything in you to control your smile as you read the text over and over, as if 'coming over' meant leaving your house for a late night fuck and not just you walking down the call so jj could eat you out. regardless it made your head spin as you texted yes :3, scrolling through past messages of a hard, throbbing dick and splatters of cum on the camera, ignoring reed as she blathered on about her new boy of the week.

"i dunno i told him we can hang out but really i just wanna get around his friend i can't believe i let the third hottest in the group fuck me it's so--are you listening to me?"

your head snaps up, eyes wide as you stammer, "yeah-uh, which guy is this?"

"ugh, don't be a bitch just because nobody approaches you and you closed yourself to guys it doesn't mean you can act like i'm slut of the year."

"i wasn't--"

she huffs, "i don't care, i'm going to sleep."

you love your friend, truly. but her ego can't stand not being the center of your universe even if it's just a second. you go to lay next to her in the bed, waiting as her breathing slows and evens out, then waiting an hour more so you know she's deep in sleep.

when you're sure you're in the clear, you crawl out of the bed, thankful that she's such a deep sleeper as you expertly navigate the creaky old floors of the maybank house.

for some odd reason you feel nervous, as if you haven't been doing this for weeks. but when you crack open the door and see jj laying there shirtless--broad and tanned and rough with age--you feel your cunt pulse with heat. so much so he can't help but notice you shove your palm against your crotch.

"stop all that sneakin, get in here." jjs voice rumbles throughout the room is a slight whisper, jolting you forward and tumbling into his bed.

he wastes no time getting on top of you, prying your lips open with his and you let out a soft noise at the increasingly familiar taste of beer on his tongue.

jj pulls back, peppering kisses against your full cheek, "took you a while tonight."

"she wouldn't stop talking. i think she's mad at me."

he sighs and traces a finger around your bellybutton and you can't see his face but you sense something lingering in the air, "she'll get over it. let's watch a movie."

normally this is code for something else and jj tucks you against his chest so he can slide his cock between your thighs, but this time he really does put on a movie. between the warmth of his body and the gentle thumb swiping your nipple you're almost lulled to sleep.

until you feel his breath on your neck, his facial hair causing goosebumps to prickle on your skin as he mumbles, "let's get this off."

off. jj's never done that before, not really. even when he eats you off he tucks your shorts to the side and the idea of him seeing all of you makes you nervous. what if you're too chubby? too hairy? he'll see the dimples on your ass and the stretch marks on your tits instead of smooth plains of taut skin and you protest.

"n-no. i don't--i'm not--"

"cmon kiddo, just let me see ya. let me see how pretty y'are."

you're shaking as he turns you on your back, peeling your shorts off your round hips with a soft smirk, "there she is, look at you. could just take a bite right now."

so that's what he does, sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin on the crease of your hip making you moan unexpectedly. that doesn't stop him, just makes him ball up your panties and shove them in your mouth, "just stay quiet."

then he's on you, but he's lacking his normal fervor. instead he takes his time, spreading your lips and sucking your clit into his mouth until its swollen and throbbing, like he's indulging himself on he taste and smell of you. and he might as well be with the way his lips smack and soft grunts build from his chest. each drip of arousal is quickly lapped up with his tongue as he kisses your cunt nice and slow. you had to be drowning him with how wet you were, but neither of you cared as you buried your fingers in his blonde hair, digits cramping as he sucked you into an orgasm.

your cunt's still twitching as he pulls off, leaving closed mouth kisses against your hot flesh as you calm, but just as your breathing even he slides two fingers into you, scissoring them open to watch you stretch.

"s'gonna be a tight fit but...well i'll make it fit." jj pulls his fingers out, sucking them clean so he can push your shirt over your tits with that hand as he shoves his boxers down with another.

and jesus christ the size of him. it's one thing to see it on your phone and to feel it slipping between your thighs but it's another to see it. thick, uncut with a tangle of hair at the base. his balls hanging low and heavy. you're paralyzed as he grabs himself and lays it across your stomach, stopping a couple inches short of your belly button.

"jj--is that--you know i never--oh my god is it even gonna fit?" you were panicked despite how your hole was clenching at the thought of it, whimpering to cup your pussy but he shooed your hand away to spread you open.

in efforts to soothe you he rubbed the head up and and your slit, mixing your arousal with his pre cum to get the tip slit, "you're a big girl kiddo. just a little pinch, a little stretch. me n you are good to go. just trust me aight?"

trembling you nod, "can i have a kiss?"

jj gives you a real smile, as strained as it is, and kisses you deep. you can taste yourself lingering on his lips but the weight of him comforts you. because he's strong and hot and solid and he wants you. you're in his bed, not the other girls. he talks to you and compliments your dress and says you're the sweetest girl he knows just because you ask how his day's been.

so you let him in, with his hands gripping your pudgy hips as you pant into each other's mouths.

"fuck, easy honey you're alright just a little more."

the slight burn of the stretch travels up the base of your spine and you moan into his shoulder, "oh my god, keep going please."

all jj can do is nod, pulling his hips back until just the tip rested in the dewy pout of your cunt before slamming back into you.

you'd never felt so full, and you lifted your head to watch him split you open, and he laughs.

"you're takin me so good honey, feel that?" he fucks into you harder, grounding his hips against yours so his tip smushes against your cervix.

"uh-huh, too--much, it's too much!" you speak in a hushed shout, hands pressed against his stomach as you futilely attempt to slow him down. but he's so heavy all you can do is squirm beneath him as he wrecks you completely, leaving you trembling.

"not yet." spoken as if it's a promise, he spreads your lips with two fingers before stroking your sensitive clit, pushing a squeak form your chest so loud he has no choice but to shove a hand over your mouth.

how much good that does you don't know, because jj's grunting in your ear and the beds squeaking so loud you're hoping reed tendency to be a heavy sleeper doesn't fail you.

you're over stimulated, between the fingers on your clit and his cock stretching you in ways you've never felt before, all you could do was hold on, raking your nails down his chest as you fluttered around him. it started in your gut, spreading in hot pulses through your body as you creamed down his balls until it dripped onto the sheets below--back arched with a moan muffled behind his calloused hand.

jj presses his face into your neck, breathing in the smell of your sweat and your sweet floral lotion as he fucks his load into you thick and hot.

his palm drops, both of you panting like you've lost a fight as he pulls out as gently as he can, one hand on your tummy as he sees you wince. he runs his hands down your body, his cock giving a half hearted twitch as he sees the pink tinge to the creamy ring of cum at the base of his dick.

"shit kid, m'sorry lemme clean you up."

you lay there, limp and exhausted as he cleans the mess between your thighs, pressing a kiss to the bite mark he left on your waist.

"can i stay for a little bit?"

jj looks at the clock. 4:35am

"yeah, lets get some sleep."

thank god reed is a heavy sleeper.

[togglesbloggle]

I know it's been nearly two years since you said this so you don't have to answer this in any way shape or form if you simply don't remember, but in the post where you and fnord888 talked about Link from the Legend of Zelda series, what exactly did you mean by "lets them keep doing the princess-rescuing quests without awkward questions like you get with Bowser and Peach"?

(about this)

I mean sex.

Bowser isn't the most textually sexualized Nintendo character out there, but he's pretty far along the spectrum- there's the outfit, the muscular physicality, the fact of his having kids, and of course the enduring focus on Princess Peach. Just as sexualization of a female character would usually take a passive or aesthetic form (e.g. a large bust or revealing outfit), the sexualization of Bowser focuses on his active and agentic traits; beyond just the imposing body, the social power of monarchy, and the tendency towards violence, Bowser is a character who pursues and desires women. In a word, he's horny.

(I'm just pointing at this very very briefly rather than going in to details, and none of this is original to me; if you poke around online, you won't have trouble finding some pretty interesting analysis of Bowser's relationship with gender and sexuality. Among other things, he's something of a gay icon.)

It's easy, almost to the point of being reflexive, to read the Peach-Mario-Bowser dynamic as being a love triangle of one sort or another, no matter what the official lore of the games has to say; the form of what we see on-screen matches some very well-worn and explicitly romantic narrative archetypes. Even the official movie made Bowser's attraction to Peach text, rather than subtext.

Tying this back to the original post about Link-

Back then, I was arguing that Link's "silly little guy" factor means that stories about him tend not to be read as sexually motivated. Even as he spends game after game actively in pursuit (in some sense of the term) of a woman, there's no real sense of Link as pursuing Zelda sexually.

Link and Mario are both, sort of, doing the same thing in the same way- exploring dangerous unknown terrain filled with many enemies, in pursuit of a high-status woman. But Mario is a grown (albeit goofy) man with a mustache and a blue-collar background, and his princess is held captive by an amorous and heavily-muscled opponent who wears a spiked leather harness to work; the audience reads these cues and infers a particular set of motives and a particular kind of subtext. Link is a very different silly little guy; his motives are explicitly holy and implicitly chaste. The kind of silly that Link is- and the kind of villain he fights- provides a subtle and I think very interesting contrast with Mario, one that allows for the games to translate Arthurian romances, and the sometimes very strange narrative forms of the knight-errant, to modern and even postmodern audience tastes.

[absolutebl]

When it comes to problematic content in QL, everyone has different tolerance levels, and different definitions for it. For you personally, how much is too much? And given that some of your faves/constant rewatches may not have aged well, do you adjust your tolerance as you go, do you just ignore it/tune it out, or do you watch, cringe, and carry on? Does problematic content make you lose love for something with time?

Hum, complex question.

I guess it's usually context and origin for me. Like I forgive Japan stuff I won't take from Thailand because it's... Japan, kinky and boundary pushing is what they do. I don't always like it, but I will usually watch it. I understand their POV and style. And more importantly, so do they.

Certainly that has to do with how well established Japan is both in BL and as a film industry. But there's something more going on. They usually have something to say when they trigger, something thoughtful and provoking about culture, or queerness, or the BL genre.

Where as Thailand doing something similar will come off as clumsy and puerile, like they are teens who don't know any better and are just poking at their audience to see what kind of reaction they get. Or worse, don't even realize when they make a misstep - they just needed it for plot or are executing a tired trope.

I want finesse with my abuse!

I don't mind being manipulated, but I can't catch it in the act. I need to notice it after, and then I make tiny clapping noises.

For me too much is often when it's too predictable in the wrong way, or when it's poorly executed. Like rape just for a plot point. Or lack of consent when it makes no sense for either character or story arc.

I don't like it when poor writing hits me up side the head. Like (and I will harp on this forever) did he have to steal that key and break into his hotel room? Did we all have to overlook it and think, for some reason, that was okay? It wasn't necessary for the plot. It was lazy writing.

I hate lazy writing.

I'd rather bad writing.

How do I put this?

If Japan had done that, it would have been some weird creepy edgy stalker aspect to the seme's character and it would have been purposeful. The dirtiness of it would have been part of characterization. Undies would have been stolen. The lens would have told us to find it off-putting. It would have been done with intent.

Thailand's lens often makes bad/stalker/creep behavior seem normal or acceptable.

If Japan reads your private journal we, the audience, will all know how gross that feels. The grossness will be part of the creepy kinky plot. If Thailand does it... it's just passed over as fine. Or worse, romantic.

Japan does its violations with intent. Because they like the edge. They want to make us a little bit uncomfortable... at all times.

Thailand does it with a blunt butter knife and expects us to overlook a character flaw.

Back to your question...

So given it's a BL producing country that I know is clumsy about this (like Thailand) sometimes I notice and get annoyed, and sometimes I sigh and it doesn't bother me. Often that has to do with my mood. Sometimes it's the chaos of the show. Like with say Pit Babe, or The Sign, eventually I'm just overwhelmed by the absurd crazy of it all. Probably because they clearly aren't taking themselves seriously, the whole darn show: cast, crew, production, everybody.

Sometimes the violation in question is simply not a trigger for me so I don't mind.

Sometimes it reads as a kink and then I kinda like it (Taiwan will do this a lot).

Sometimes I don't even notice.

Yes, certainly I have dropped show or moved on from rewatching older stuff because now it bothered me, where once it did not (cough cough TharnType).

But others I still understand (if not love) because they say something about the time they were made and what the genre was then, like Takumi-kun.

Some stuff I loved so much when it first aired and still love with such nostalgia that I don't really see its flaws. UWMA is likely one of those. It's always great to me, even on rewatch, even after 810 other shows.

But I think UWMA might not be great to someone who started watching BL in 2022 or comes to the genre out of Korean BL, for example.

Does problematic content make you lose love for something with time?

Sometimes but not always.

It's all in the nuance, I guess. Mine, what I bring to the show, my willingness to understand its origin and forgive it its sins, but also the show's nuance and its execution of story.

(source)

[sflow-er]

A few notes on Linda's salary and the Erikssons' financial situation

I looked into this topic when @crownedwille brought it up in some tags a while ago. I abandoned it because I didn't think it would be that interesting after all, but the discussion started by @mydignityisinflames on @young-royals-confessions inspired me to finish the draft.

I was going to copy and paste it all in a reblog, but it got too long so... Here it is as a separate meta post!

Linda's job

As of S2, we know for sure that Linda is a registered nurse (sjuksköterska). This means she's completed a three-year (180 credit) higher education programme in nursing. We don't know if she's completed a specialist nurse's programme on top of that, but it isn't required to work at the youth clinic (ungdomsmottagningen or UMO).

Youth clinics are public clinics for people aged 12 to 22, primarily providing services related to sexual and mental health. Nurses there examine patients and take samples for lab testing etc., but they also counsel and reassure young people who come to them with concerns. (This explains why Carmen's post-S1 interview with the PRP actually gave me the impression that Linda was a youth counsellor instead.)

Anyway, Linda herself confirms in S3 that she works at the UMO. Both the Swedish CC and the subs have her telling Simon to be glad she doesn't make him "go" there every week for drug testing - but if you listen to her words, she actually says come in (komma in). This indicates that she works there.

Linda's monthly income and how it compares

We can estimate Linda's salary quite confidently by looking at relevant statistics from 2020 and 2021 when the show is set.

As a registered nurse working at a youth clinic, Linda is employed in the public sector. More specifically, by the municipality.

As of S3, we also know she is working in the region that is called Östra Mellansverige (Eastern Central Sweden) in the statistical data. Bjärstad's location was kept vague for a long time, but the letter that Simon received in S3 included their address. Bjärstad's post/zip code was written as 58581 - a made-up code that puts them in the Linköping area. The closest real-world equivalent (58580, Ljungsbro) is just northwest of Linköping itself.

Here are the most relevant stats on monthly income (before taxes):

The average monthly income in Sweden was SEK 36,100 in 2020 and SEK 37,100 in 2021.

For non-specialist registered nurses employed in the municipal sector, specifically in Östra Mellansverige, average monthly income was SEK 38,300 in 2020 and SEK 40,000 in 2021. Their average base salary in this region (without any additions for evening/night shifts, weekends, experience etc.) was SEK 37,000 / 38,500.

In other words, Linda's monthly income should be pretty close to the national average. Maybe even slightly higher based on region, even though she may not work in the evenings or weekends as the UMO may not be open.

In a survey conducted in 2022, a household with children was considered low income if two parents' combined monthly income before taxes was less than SEK 42,000, or if a single parent's monthly income before taxes was less than SEK 29,500.

So, the Erikssons are not low income by definition. This fits the impression we get from their house, as well as details such as Sara having learned how to ride before Hillerska.

However, it is also clear from the show that they cannot necessarily afford larger surprise expenses such as Simon's tutoring. That makes sense when Linda is paying for everything herself. Her income may be slightly above the national average, but it falls between the numbers considered low income for a single-parent vs. two-parent household.

I guess we could call them a medium-income household, but towards the lower end.

About the house

It was indirectly revealed in S3 that Micke was the one who moved out when he and Linda separated. That's the only way Simon can have lived in their current house for fourteen years (i.e. since 2006/2007):

Back in S1, when Sara said Linda should have left Micke when everything started, Simon protested that they wouldn't have had anywhere to live. This sounds like Linda was still financially dependent on Micke when the kids were small. It was probably Micke who originally bought or rented the house for his family (although the property, mortgage and/or lease could have still been in both their names).

Linda and Micke's assets will have been split 50:50 at the time of their divorce. If the house was bought rather than rented, she likely had to take out a new mortgage to buy him out. Mortgages in Sweden typically have very long payment terms, so it's likely there was still quite a bit left to pay, and the value of the property had increased in the meantime.

If the house is a rental, the rent will have gone up over the years. Based on a quick look at places for rent in Linköping, many terraced house units of that size currently cost SEK 11,000 to 18,000 per month. We don't know what the rent would have been in 2020/2021, but we can assume it would have taken a pretty big chunk of Linda's single income.

Anyway, it is a nice house. Especially if it's a rental, paying for it does put a strain on the Erikssons' finances, even though they aren't struggling as such.

About Hillerska

I had not meant to include this at all, but as there was some confusion on the confessions blog, it should be noted that Linda doesn't have to pay for Simon and Sara to attend Hillerska. Even private schools in Sweden haven't been allowed to charge tuition fees since 2014. They do charge very high boarding fees, but that's why Sara got a grant to board in S2. So in principle, Hillerska shouldn't be more expensive than Marieberg, although it is possible that school outings may cost a bit more and there may also be other more or less voluntary extra costs (e.g. private tutoring or equipment for extracurriculars).

If you want to read more about the boarding school fees, you can check out this post.

About Simon's summer jobs

I don't think Simon's lines here are meant to be taken as in, "Simon has to contribute to the family economy" or "Simon has to pay for all his own stuff." Linda keeps her children clothed, buys the things they need for their hobbies and presents for their birthdays (e.g. Sara's jodhpurs), and based on her phone call in S3, is even planning to take them abroad to see family.

The key here is the line about Wille and the other rich kids getting everything they want for free, including designer clothes or spontaneous trips to New York. Simon is simply saying he and Ayub need to make some money of their own to do activities and buy things they don't strictly need but want.

Simon and Ayub have been applying for summer jobs hos kommunen, with the municipality. These jobs are only offered for part of the summer (typically three weeks) because the municipality has a limited number of positions available and they want to employ as many applicants as possible. The duties usually involve helping out at municipal services and facilities, e.g. preschools, care facilities for the elderly, facilities for sports and leisure, museums, public parks, and so on. The municipality may also support local businesses and non-profitable associations in offering some positions as well.

Some examples by age:

14-year-olds: simple duties, e.g. mowing lawns or distributing newspapers; reasonable hourly wage SEK 50–80

15 to 16-year-olds: more complex duties mainly in the municipal sector, e.g. working with children, in leisure activities or with the elderly; reasonable hourly wage SEK 80–100

17 to 18-year-olds: increasingly complex duties and more opportunities to find work in the private sector, e.g. cashier work, customer service, simple administrative tasks, hospitality industry; reasonable hourly wage SEK 100–140

I wonder what kind of summer jobs Simon, Sara and Ayub have been doing (and Rosh too, other than the football camp). When outlining my post-S1 summer fic, I had imagined Simon applied to work with children while Sara chose park/garden maintenance because she found it calming after the stormy spring, but that was a long time ago (and the details never even made it into the fic).

__

Anyway, I think that was all the stuff I meant to cover! As always, I may well be wrong about something, and further discussion is very welcome.

[antianakin]

A number of people have responded to this post with something similar to this and I think this post is getting misunderstood as me arguing that I think Cassian should know about all of the things Bail has done, and it's not. That's not what I'm saying.

I'm bringing up all of these things Bail has done because it felt to me less like this is a moment where we're supposed to just see Cassian as wrong or biased, and more of a moment where the narrative VERY GENUINELY wants you to agree with Cassian that the only reason any of them are even here right now as a rebellion is because of Luthen.

For one, Cassian's sole reasoning behind why he believes the information is because "Luthen died for it" and that faith (as well as Kleya's) is ultimately what helps sway Vel into convincing Mon Mothma to believe it and stand up to Bail about it. It's BAIL who has to sit there being wrong and just be the "man Cassian doesn't like."

For two, this entire arc really focuses in on Luthen's legacy and influence, so it doesn't make a lot of sense for the ultimate message at the end to be that Cassian's just biased and wrong about Luthen's impact on the rebellion.

For three, Gilroy apparently has said in an interview that he sees Luthen and Mon Mothma as the true founders of the rebellion in his version of the story.

For four, they decided to have Bail's team be compromised in the episode with Mon's big speech so that Luthen can step in with his better knowledge and agents to ACTUALLY save her but then the "Gold Squadron" (who are also part of Bail's group) insist that they have to step in and deliver Mon Mothma to Yavin, leaving Luthen and Cassian's work essentially unrecognized. While this fits in quite nicely with the themes of Rogue One and the ways that so many people often end up unremembered by history no matter how important they are, it is also worth bringing up in this case because it's another instance of "Bail's way fails, and Luthen's succeeds because he's just better at it."

For five, Cassian wouldn't know about all of the little things Bail has done, but Rebels has made it fairly clear that Bail DOES take part in some of the recruitment work and meetings within his own rebel cells. It seems INCREDIBLY unlikely that Cassian is unaware of just how long Bail has been doing this and how much of what's here is a direct result of Bail's work for the last 19 years bringing it all together. He doesn't have the DETAILS, sure, but he's been in Bail's rebellion for two years now, you cannot convince me that he doesn't know ANYTHING about Bail's involvement in it and the fact that he literally founded it.

I would mind this a lot less if it felt like we as the audience were supposed to understand that Cassian is just being emotional and kind-of biased because a mentor of his just died, but that doesn't feel like the way it was being presented to us. You CAN interpret it that way, but that doesn't necessarily mean that's the way it was intended to be understood.

So the reason it felt important to me to bring up the fact that Bail has absolutely been established as being there from DAY FUCKING ONE with the things he did to help the Jedi and what he did for Leia isn't to say that Cassian should KNOW these things, but to point out that the narrative in Andor seems to be acting like those things don't count or is just ignoring them to favor Luthen and Mon because Gilroy prefers them. But they DID happen and they DO count and Bail Organa is just as much if not more responsible for that rebellion's existence than Luthen Rael. I LIKE Luthen, I think he's a fascinating and complex character, and I am perfectly happy to give him his roses for what he HAS done, but what I won't do is devalue or dismiss Bail Organa's contributions to lift up Luthen as the true founder of the rebellion.

It seems a little hilarious to me that they have Cassian making the argument that the only reason any of them are here, the only reason the REBELLION exists at all, is because of Luthen... and he's saying it to BAIL FUCKING ORGANA.

I'm sorry, but while I am happy to accept that Luthen did do a LOT of things to keep the rebellion alive and likely recruited quite a few of the people on Yavin to this cause himself and trained them up, there are just as many if not more who are there explicitly because of BAIL ORGANA.

Bail Organa who began fighting the Empire the moment he showed up at the Jedi Temple the night of Order 66 and turned around to save any Jedi he could and then became a GETAWAY DRIVER as Yoda went to assassinate the Emperor and then proceeded to agree to take in Anakin Skywalker's child in order to hide her from the Empire.

Bail Organa who has literally been shown helping recruit the entire Ghost Crew and likely brought on the entire Phoenix Squadon and theoretically the entire Gold Squadron. Bail Organa who was the one who helped Riyo Chuchi try to fight for clone rights. Bail Organa who saw Ahsoka Tano on Naboo for Padme's funeral and immediately turns around to offer her a chance to join the rebellion which she does eventually choose to take. Bail Organa who eventually does allow his own DAUGHTER to join the rebellion and run missions when she's old enough.

You cannot convince me that somehow Luthen Rael is MORE responsible for the creation of the rebellion and its existence and people's involvement in it than Bail Organa. You can't.

[zooophagous]

The world had gotten smaller since Strauss was young. Fine goods like spices, sugar and coffee were once the coveted treasures of world traders, And now they were so commonplace they were widely regarded as “cheap.”

The Himalayan Yak restaurant was not cheap. Not according to the reviews that dotted the page beneath the address on Artemis’ phone. It barked orders and directions in a flat monotone.

“In one thousand feet, turn right.”

Strauss hated that grating, tinny voice. His delicate senses were quickly being overwhelmed by it, and the encroaching scent of spices as they found the parking lot. He was unable to eat any of the food here. He wondered if his opinion of the smell would be different if he could safely taste it. 

Part of him was jealous. The smell was rich and complex. Humans had a wealth of flavor available to them. He really only had one. A metallic tang and nothing more. Though, inwardly, he was relieved by that. No surprises at dinner, and that suited him fine.

“So, Troy’s favorite is a vegan yellow curry. If there is a customer who frequently orders it, we likely have Troy cornered.”

“I sure hope you're right. I don't know how many vegans are in this town. Small town Minnesota isn't exactly chock full of them. Should make it easier to narrow down?”

“Yes. It will work. I have a good feeling about it.”

Strauss went inside first, only to wrinkle his nose and step back. The smell of spices was tolerable, yes, but the smell of garlic gave him pause. He coughed into his sleeve.

“Van Helsing. Perhaps you should do the talking.”

“Right.” She cleared her throat And approached the counter.

“Hi, how many?” The cheerful hostess greeted the sullen pair.

“Actually, I was wondering if you could help us. See, we um. We're looking for a missing person.”

“Ok?” Came the suspicious reply. 

“Do you… have anyone who orders the same thing a lot? Like especially vegan dishes? Probably for take out?”

“I'm sorry, are you with the police?”

“Well, no, but we know the person and-”

“I'm sorry, our business records aren't really something I can just show people. For privacy reasons and… Yeah.”

The hostess was visibly uncomfortable. Strauss was already nearing the end of his patience as the hot smell of cooked garlic stuck like oil to his nose and eyes and made him blink back the irritation.

“Let me try. Ahem.”

He stepped in front of Artemis rather rudely, and stared down at the much shorter hostess like a looming shadow. His voice was deep, authoritative and, as Artemis listened, oddly almost alluring. 

“Guten abend. I am Mr. White. My associate and I are private investigators working on a missing persons case. It is imperative that we get answers as multiple lives may be at stake. Our target is in grave danger, both himself and those near him may be affected. You will allow us access to records. Now.”

Artemis raised her eyebrows in surprise as the vampire worked his magic. She watched the poor dumbfounded hostess with bated breath- if she fought back at all the illusion would collapse and they might be in trouble.

The hostess stood silently for a moment before finally breaking the tension with “y-yes, ok, sorry. Here. What did you want to see?” She began fidgeting with the ipad at the counter.

Artemis breathed a sigh of relief as “Mr. White” explained what he needed. “I am looking for a customer, a frequent customer, who only orders vegan dishes. He likely orders his food ‘to-go’ and frequently orders yellow curry. He is white, young, but likely not using his real name.”

“Ok, ok. We only have a couple of regulars who only eat vegan…an-and only one of them has an address in the system.”

Strauss glared hawkishly at the iPad screen. “Should have known.”

“Should have known what?” Artemis asked.

“Take this address down and put it into your navigation system. I know where Troy is.” Strauss shook his head as if he were disappointed. He turned to the hostess who now looked dizzy, and very confused.

“Vielen dank fur die hilfe. Do not speak of us to anyone. You could jeopardize the entire investigation. Is that clear?”

“Yeah… Yes. Of course.”

“Good. A beautiful evening to you.”

He turned on his heel and marched back out into the parking lot, grateful for fresh air.

Artemis trotted after him. “You're sure you know? How? Where is he? And WHAT was that? Did you hypnotize that poor girl?”

“Yes I did. I did not harm her. I simply asked more forcefully than you did.” Strauss declined to answer the rest of the questions as he climbed into the cab and waited for the annoying robotic voice to lead them once more to their prey. 

“I cannot believe I did not think of it sooner. I am so unbelievably stupid. Hunger must have left me bereft of senses. And Troy… he is the most stupid of us all.”

Strauss grumbled in his seat.

“Wish you were a little less esoteric about this.” Artemis asked with a hint of a barb in her voice.

“Trust me Van Helsing. You will get your lycan. We are on the fastest route, and you will have your answers in seven minutes.”

The car rolled quietly down the side streets. Strauss sat looking angrier by the moment in the front seat but still saying nothing. “In one thousand feet turn right.”

Artemis slowed down for the turn. The red marker grew ever closer on the digital map until Strauss took off his seatbelt and jumped from the car while it was still in motion.

“Hey- HEY! Strauss! Where the Hell are you going?”

“He's in here.” Strauss marched up to an unassuming looking little house, hardly bigger than a bread box and shaped like one too. He pounded on the door.

A meek looking but familiar face appeared. “Mr. Strauss? You're alive?!”

“Hello Samuel. Let me in.”

Strauss didn't ask, but demanded. Sam stood back and let him enter. Strauss disappeared into the house with Artemis following behind. She exchanged wide, confused glances with Sam as she passed.

Strauss stomped into the living room with a scowl. “Hello herr Cunningham.” 

Troy sputtered on his soda, and dropped his video game controller as Strauss yanked him to his feet with a snarl.

“Do you have ANY idea how long we've been looking for you! Did you think you'd just leave us behind? Never say a word?”

“Get OFF me man!” Troy shoved his palm into the vampire's nose, Strauss reacted with a curl of his lip and a slap of his own. Back and forth, blow for blow, the slapping escalated to shoving and Strauss was sent into a wall where a framed poster fell and became a casualty in the vampire-lycan wars.

The shoving became wrestling and growling, when Strauss did something unexpected. He wrapped his arms tightly around Troy and held still, force hugging him till he stopped moving. Troy carefully reached up with his one free hand and patted Strauss on the back. “You ok there big guy?”

“No I am not ok.” Came the somewhat weepy reply. “I thought my friend was dead. And now you have returned from the grave.” 

“Hey… hey it's ok. I'm sorry.”

“Why didn't you tell us you were ok?” Artemis asked as she finally dared to enter the room with the supernatural combatants.

“It's not because I don't like you guys or anything ok? I was just going through a lot of stuff. I mean I killed a guy. And I was scared that if I tried to find you I might get caught. I sort of thought YOU were dead.”

“You could have checked before writing us off.” Strauss finally released his grip and wiped his nose messily on the back of his hand.

“You're right, you're right. But I was scared of what I might find. Scared I'd get caught myself. I thought maybe this would be a good way to… I don't know. Disappear? Lay low?”

“You should have left town then. This place is crawling with Witchfinders, and Sylvain. you're lucky you're such a shut in or you would have been caught already.”

“Yeah well. If you found me, it was only a matter of time I guess.”

“Yes. I'll have you know I used your own tricks against you, Cunningham. Baited the trap with your favorite food. You should consider expanding your culinary horizons.”

Troy huffed through his nose. “You're one to talk, Mr. White mice. How have you been getting fed lately with the Institute all busted up?”

“Largely Troy, I haven't been. That is a large portion of my problem. If I cannot find a feed I will be forced to take one. And that will most certainly be my doom.”

“So what do we do?”

“I'm glad you're using “we” here.” Artemis smiled sadly. “The short answer is, we don't know. We have to find a way to prove Strauss innocent … or else find a way to get into permanent hiding.”

She sat down on the couch with a sigh. ��Neither option is easy or attractive. But the third option is to just give up.”

“You can give up. The most they will do is imprison you. Strip you of your titles or clearances. They will kill me.” Strauss replied flatly. “They will also kill Troy if they catch him. And Ursula is likely not going to survive either.”

“Right. We need to put together a plan.”

“Um. Excuse me.”

Strauss, Troy and Artemis turned to Sam, who stood in the doorway looking awkward.

“Um. Can I um. Can I get you guys anything to drink? Or a snack? I don't have any uh… any blood I can give you but I have water, coffee, soda, beer…”

Strauss looked at his companions and then back to Sam. “I will take that beer. Perhaps we all need one. It will be a long evening.”

[taylorklosscomeout138]

Timeline asleep????

How can Begin Again be written about Dianna Agron if Dianna's family never celebrated Christmas??

So out of all the things in the world to bring up, Dianna is telling Taylor about the Christmas movies that her family watches when Dianna's family doesn't even recognize the holiday of Christmas whatsoever and celebrates Hanukkah instead??

Right.... okay.

"You throw your head back laughing" I wonder who we've seen do that every time she laughs with Taylor

And the muse of Begin Again tells Taylor she has as many James Taylor records as her, when Karlie was literally named after Carly Simon because her family was that big of fans of Carly and James???? Yet somehow it's crazy to suggest that lyric would most likely be written about Karlie- who factually does have a ton of James Taylor records due to her family and birth name origin

So now when we say the license plate in the Begin Again MV is not only fake and formatted incorrectly but that it would have to be quite the coincidence that it magically happens to correspond to Karlie's initials and birth year..... that's somehow more of a reach than these lyrics being written about Dianna when they simply fail to align with her??

I'm sorry but letter to number is one of the most basic form of codes to ever exist we literally did solve the message puzzles for it in grade school. You're telling me that's out of realm of possibility for the same Taylor who has us doing anagram puzzles, word unscramblers, or even more complicated puzzles?? That is just silly and bias.

11 = K letter to number that's just a fact.

That license plate straight up says

K EZK 92

Karlie Elizabeth Kloss 1992

And we are arguing that's a coincidence???

Sorry but the odds of that happening statistically among all other factors especially the James Taylor line with Karlie being named after Carly Simon is incredibly drastic

I'm not saying this is an entirely accurate estimate of the odds, maybe it's a bit dramatized, but all things considered all factors applied and all of it amounting to having nothing to do with Karlie and all being pure happenstance are at least 1 in a billion

And I want to be clear I am NOT saying this means Taylor didn't date Dianna, I am saying this PERFECTLY aligns with what Taylor told us in Folklore, and we literally all agreed that, "chase 2 girls lose the 1" is about Taylor pursuing Karlie and Dianna at the same time.

In which how could that be a reach when Taylor said she did that?? Unless you want to go with that she's talking about 2 different girls which sure be my guest but most people I've seen have found common consensus that that is about Swiftgron and Kaylor overlapping.

All that Begin Again being about Karlie would indicate is *when* this overlap took place which is... around the only time she dated Dianna anyway before she was fully with Karlie so I simply do not understand why people are so defensive about Begin Again being about Karlie with 0 effort to even fact check if the lyrics made sense for Dianna.

We don't actually know anything for a fact. So there's really nothing that wild about people finding the license plate and going woah that's weird that's kinda Karlie's exact initials and birth year maybe our understanding of the Red era has *slightly* been off.

Especially when Taylor asking Karlie to bake cookies with her and Karlie replying "your kitchen or mine?" happened at the start of 2012 which was a whole 10 months before Begin Again MV even released..... sorry but it is simply not even farfetched in the context of the public narrative we had.

It is okay to make timeline revisions based on new discoveries or new information Taylor deliberately presents. Such as how there is 0 evidence Karlie was at the 2008 Young Hollywood Awards with Taylor until Taylor herself did an interview with the guy who introduced Taylor and Karlie for the first time at that award show and then released the clip publicily, which is the only reason we are aware that is the first time they actually met.

It can't all be "Taylor's a mastermind leaving us clues about everything" until it's about Kaylor. That has the same energy as Swifties saying everything Taylor does is easter eggs besides anything that has to do with her being gay. And it's simply forced.

[maxdibert]

your essay about Snape and classism made me think of the implications behind the Weasleys being the definition of poor in the magical society, according to the books.

They're pureblood, think less about muggles and they never speak about their only muggle relative, yet they don't seem to fit with the aristocrats because they're "blood traitors"?? What does that mean?

Despite being poor, the father and breadwinner for the family works at the Ministry, and Percy joins him later in a higher rank. Meanwhile, the eldest brother works on a bank (THE bank? is there any other banks that isn't Gringotts?) and we have no clue about how people see dragon breeding as a job.

I don't know where I was trying to get to, the Weasley's place in society confuses me. Any idea?

This is a very European dynamic that happens in most countries that still have monarchies or a strong aristocratic elite and a tradition of class systems based on nobility: the figure of the poor aristocrat. In Spain, for example, there is the figure of the hidalgo, which is the aristocrat with a title but without property or land, perhaps even poorer than a bourgeois, but still maintaining their aristocratic status. And this figure exists in other countries too; in fact, it's quite common in popular culture.

The problem with this is that many people (especially from the United States, obviously) think that in old Europe, class is defined by money. But that's not necessarily true, because an aristocrat will always be socially above —even for other aristocrats— regardless of being poor or a "class traitor," as opposed to a bourgeois without a family name. And this is something that is very well reflected in the fact that even Slytherins consider Ginny a "catch." The pureblood Slytherins don’t consider Ginny a catch just because she’s pretty, but because even though she’s poor and a “traitor,” she is still pureblood. She still has “aristocratic” ancestry and comes from the same roots as them. A pureblood would choose a “traitor”—as much of a traitor as she may be—a hundred thousand times over someone who can’t help continue the bloodline. This is pure traditional European aristocratic mentality.

So yes, the Weasleys may be traitors and perhaps not as wealthy as the Malfoys, but the Weasleys are still far above any other wizard in the magical society because of their blood status. Because in an aristocratic society, economic capital is not enough to match social capital: you need both. Lucius is above Arthur because he has both social and economic capital. But Arthur is still above any Muggle-born or half-blood wizard who might have as much or more money than Lucius. Does that make sense? Because despite the hatred and contempt Lucius has for Arthur, he would still be willing to save Arthur twenty thousand times before saving any half-blood or Muggle-born, no matter how wealthy they might be, because Arthur can help preserve the bloodline, and the others can’t. And this is something those of us who grew up in societies deeply affected by these value systems understand quite well.

There’s also the fact that Rowling has never truly grasped what poverty is. For Rowling, being poor means not being as privileged as the most privileged. She doesn’t know what it’s really like to be poor or to suffer from true poverty. The Weasleys always had a hot meal on the table, they could dress themselves, and they could buy things for their children and even spend lottery winnings on a family vacation. A truly poor family could never afford the luxury of spending lottery winnings on a trip, they literally need it to avoid starving. The Weasleys are poor from a privileged perspective, but they are not poor from a class perspective, nor are they truly poor from a sociological standpoint. And even less so considering the author of the books is British.