#Okay but the actual reason for these names

[reidrum]

you can let it go

note: user reidrum's hurt/comfort demons are back but like don't read into it

summary: in which you feel yourself slipping away but not if spencer can help it

cw: hurt/comfort, reader is depressed, hairwashing, pet names, spencer loves you very much

wc: 1.7k

The soft glow of the television is the only source of light in your apartment, a marathon of sitcom reruns has been burning into the screen for the unknown amount of hours you’ve been laying on the couch.

When the door opens you don’t even notice it, your phone has been dead for the past few hours and so if Spencer or anyone else texted you about their arrival you were none the wiser. You’d feel bad about being unreachable if you knew Spencer wasn’t expecting it—you’ve played this role before, too well actually—and so Spencer knows better than to think otherwise until he’s checked home.

“Sweetheart?” he calls out softly, aware of the vague shape on the couch.

You hide it well, you think. Spencer being gone on cases most of the time makes it easier for you to slip through the cracks undetected, where the weight of the fall needs only to be beared on you and no one else. Spencer loves you, and you know this to be fact. You love Spencer too, so much that it would be the opposite of showing him love if you let him worry about you—so you don’t give him the opportunity to do so.

It’s not that you weren’t cause for worry, people worry for a reason. But the vicious cycle you’ve stuck yourself in means creating a set up for them to leave you. They can only worry about you for so long until they realize you’re not making tangible progress to get better; they’ll never know you don’t have a choice but they’ll know it’s enough for them to abandon you.

But Spencer, he has enough to worry about. His job requires him to see the worst of what humanity has to offer, not to mention he’s already dealing with navigating his own gnarly demons like addiction and incarceration. To add upon that would be selfish and irresponsible, you love him too much to do that to him.

He approaches closer and his heart clenches at how quickly you try to mask whatever emotion you had on your face to a stone cold front.

“I’m fine.” you mumble, “just tired.”

He frowns, because of course he knows. It’s the only thing you don’t like about Spencer—his ability to read you better than anyone.

Spencer finds your achilles heel and lets his arrow aim with accuracy as it disarms and exposes you. To Spencer, he’s just looking for a way in. If that’s through your most vulnerable spot then that’s a trek he’s willing to brave for you.

He kneels in front of the couch to be level with your face, his hand reaching out gently carding through your hair.

“Angel,”

Your eyes squeeze tighter, like if you try hard enough you’ll be engulfed in the darkness it brings you.

“Don’t.”

He sighs, he knows it’s a futile effort to ask you what’s wrong. His fingers don’t stop combing through your hair, and you’re thankful that your dismissiveness wasn’t a deterrent this time. You’re never sure when it’ll be the last time.

“What happened baby?” he whispers softly.

You let out a whine, unsure yourself when or how it got to this point. It just…happened.

His hand holds pressure on your head, “Did you eat anything?”

“Wasn��t hungry.” you claim but your stomach betrays you as you speak.

He’d laugh if he wasn’t as overly concerned as he was, “I’m gonna order food and then we’re going to take a shower, okay?”

You open your mouth to protest, “But—“

“No buts,” he chides, “Just…wait here.” he stands up and walks into the kitchen dialing the restaurant number.

Great, you’ve upset him now. He just came home from a trip after solving what was probably a very exhausting case, and now you’ve selfishly added more to his plate of things to worry about. You should have sorted yourself out before he got home, before you burdened him some more.

Spencer places the order and walks back out into the living room, “Food’s on the way, do you want to walk to the bathroom or I can carry you?”

Your reply is immediate, “I can walk, don’t worry.”

The ghost of a smile teases his face, “You sure? Morgan thinks I gained some muscle since the last case, won’t even strain a thing if I tried.”

You make a poor attempt at matching his joke, “It’s okay, my legs still work I think.”

“Alright baby, come on.” he holds a hand out to help you up and leads you to the bathroom.

You stand in the middle of the bathroom while Spencer turns on the shower making sure it’s in the right temperature setting as it heats up. He returns to you and gestures for you to lift your arms as he gently undresses you, before quickly removing his own clothes to join you. You both get in the shower with your back facing the water stream and Spencer in front of you. The warmth of the water is soothing on you, but the concern rises before you can counter it.

“You’re cold,” you note, as your body takes up all of the water.

“I’m perfectly fine, don’t worry about me.” he whispers gingerly, his hands coming up to frame your face to gently guide you, “Lean your head back, sweet girl.”

You listen and let the pressure consume you as the warmth surrounds you like a halo, his fingers threading through your hair to massage your scalp. It’s almost painful at how tender he’s being with you, you’re not sure what you even did to deserve this treatment.

Spencer removes his hands and pumps shampoo onto them, rubbing and lathering them together before returning to your head. His fingers rethread themselves again but he brings your head slightly closer to him to press a long kiss to your forehead. The familiar sting returns to your eyes and you know it’s not from the shampoo dripping down.

He leans your head back again to the water stream to wash out all the shampoo, before repeating the same process with the conditioner. His fingers spend extra time applying pressure to your scalp in hopes of it relaxing and calming you further. When your eyes flutter shut he smiles to himself softly before kissing your nose.

The intimacy of the moment is not lost on either of you. There’s a version of you that wouldn’t even believe someone cared about you this much to do things like wash your hair for you. Spencer can’t imagine a version of himself where he does otherwise.

Once all the conditioner is lathered out he makes quick to wash your body and his before rinsing you both down and shutting the shower off. He reaches for the hair towel and wraps your hair up, to which you can’t help but smile in amusement at the fact that he even knows how to do that. Spencer must sense your astonishment and chuckles, “I told you I’m a man of many talents.”

You reach for the bigger towel and hand one to Spencer as you both dry off and step out of the bathroom. He perches you on the edge of the bed while he goes to the dresser to grab clothes for you both, coming back to tug one of his sweatshirts over you and a pair of his boxers to slip into. 

Spencer puts his own clothes on and grabs your wet hairbrush, cause for another amusing smile because how the hell does he know the difference. He notices a lot more about you than you think, and for him sometimes it’s fun to keep those cards hidden until certain times. Like now, when he props himself against the headboard of your bed and calls for you to sit in between his legs.

Once you situate yourself he leans you forward slightly so he can brush all your hair to your back, and gently brushes out the tangles in your wet hair. The soft stroke of the bristles grounds you back to reality—back to him, and suddenly you don’t feel as heavy anymore.

The last tangle is brushed out and he sweeps your hair to one side and gestures for you to lean back into his chest, his nose burying in the crook of your neck.

“I’m not mad at you,” he says into your neck, “I know you think I am, but I promise you I’m not.”

You swallow a sob, “It’s okay if you are, I don’t mean to be so high maintenance.”

He holds you tighter instinctively, “It is not high maintenance to feel emotions, baby. Or to need support. Taking care of you is a privilege, really.”

Since the day he met you he’s spent everyday cursing and thanking whoever made you feel like this was a normal state to be in. You don’t deserve to feel scared at showing your face to the people who love you in fear they’ll weaponize it against you. But in an odd and maybe slightly selfish way he’s thankful that he gets to be the one who shows you what it means to be loved, that your ability to grow and heal is not sacrificed as a causality of the circumstances you’ve faced.

What he does get upset about is when you hide from him like this—he can’t take care of you if he doesn’t even know something is wrong, and as smart as he is sometimes it’s just not that easy to tell how you’re feeling on calls with you when he’s away.

“I mean it, I love you. Nothing will ever change that. I’ll always be here for you. Just need you to tell me when, okay?”

You angle your head up towards him, “I’m sorry.” you strain.

“Nothing to apologize for, angel,” he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, shutting his own eyes, “You’re okay, everything’s okay.”

Spencer knows you trust him, and that your reluctance to open up is not personal to him but to who you were before you met him. He hopes that by loving you as much as he does it will be enough to uncross the wires that led you astray, and back into his heart.

[abbyslovergirlxo]

Glute Day

GymRat!Abby x ChubbyFem!Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Synopsis: You’ve been going to the gym with Abby for a few weeks and you swear your ass is getting fatter! Abby thinks so too but she needs a closer look to make sure :)

Warnings: mdni, wlw, masochism (sorta), sadism (sorta), strap usage, crying, hair pulling, lotsss of pet names (r!recieving)

Wrote this on my break, hope yall like it!��� I figured I’d finally write for Abby since she’s my username 😂 also I’m currently working on Same Damn Time pt2 🫶

Working out with Abby always left you weak and wobbly. She was the biggest girl at the gym after all, she knew how to do a workout. For months prior she’d casually ask you if you’d like to join her. You’d never thought much of it, she loved your body (a little too much). Abby truly would find any reason to spend time with you so you figured she simply wanted your company.

“ Leaving out soon baby, think you wanna come?”

“ You feeling the gym today cookie? I’m doing arms. Your favorite.”

Although enticing at times, it seemed she always caught you when working out was the last thing you wanted to do. So for awhile she stopped asking, opting to giving you a quick kiss on the forehead and heading out with her green gym bag and black compression shirt.

And then finally one day she heard those magic words.

“ Abs…do you think I could go with you today?”

The grin that spread on her face was so full that it spread to you, your cheek burning. She was quick to give you a kiss on the forehead, her arms wrapping around you and squeezing in just the right position that her bicep dug into your arm.

“ Abso-fucking-lutely babe, you can come with me whenever. I don’t have a split for you yet but you can shadow me and do some beginner workouts. That sound good?”

You nodded, but honestly in that moment the only thing you were thinking about was how good she smelled. Besides, you thought, it can’t be that hard. You’d just trail along, lift a few weights and watch your hot girlfriend bench twice your weight. Sounded like a win-win to you.

Wrong.

Fast forward a few weeks later and you were slightly regretting your decision.

Well, undoubtedly watching Abby proved to be as good as you thought. Her face would scrunch as she groaned through each set. Straight up fucking porn if anyone had asked you. But then came the actual working out. A few sets with Abby was enough for you to know that this was going to be hell. Your arms would throb, even with the five pound weights! And she was effortlessly lifting 60 pound dumbbells, what the hell! But you just couldn’t pass on the words she spoke to you. Abby talked you through it like no other.

“ Great job babe, right there. You feel it right here, right?”

“ Justtt a little more, you’ve got it.”

“ It’s okay baby, I started off with those too.”

“ Spread your feet a little more…yeah just like that. Look at that, a natural.”

“ Best spotter in the whole word sweetheart.”

Then came leg day and every glute workout was somehow just crucifying your back. You’d complained to Abby so many times and sometimes she’d be able to get you engaging your glutes but it was just never consistent. But seemingly one day your body got on board, your form improved and you were feeling it in every part of your ass. By week three you even could’ve sworn that you’d seen a little difference! Swear!

Your first mistake though, was telling Abby this because suddenly she too swore she saw a difference. You should’ve known by the way she was staring at you, eyes fixated and smile wicked. But you were far too fixated on the mirror in front you, constantly shuffling your legs and switching positions to see as much as you could.

“ You sure Abby? I mean I feel like I can see it but now I’m second guessing. Maybe it’s just the glute pump.”

You had worked your glutes just the day before and they were as sore as ever. Abby didn’t bother to tell you that glute pumps don’t last that long, she didn’t care to. She was too focused on the way your leggings clung to the pudge of your stomach and ass.

“ Now that you mention it, I’m not sure. How about you come over here so I can see a little better honey.”

Oblivious to the way her hand was just itching for you to waltz over to her sitting on the bed, you frowned at the mirror for just a second. Without thinking you walked over to her.

Terrible idea.

“ C’mon baby…hahh— keep the arch f’me.”

You whined, the feeling of her thrust sending you into a drooling frenzy. But your body almost involuntarily dropped lower just at the simple command of her voice, earning you a harsh slap to your ass. She smiled at the red print that her hand left, now adding to all the other marks she’d given you.

“ n-nghh! abbyyy…”

She hummed, tracing the bite mark on your left cheek gently. It was quite a contrast to how mean her hips were being to you. You were so sure you could feel her right in your stomach. But every time you’d tell her that she’d just give you faux sympathy and tell you how good you’re taking her.

Abby was sure she could look at this image of you forever. She couldn’t find a single reason why it wasn’t the most beautiful thing in the world. Your arch was like heaven to her, the rolls of your back and fat of your ass rippling. It reminded her of art. Except nothing about the way you sounded or looked was left to interpretation.

Every whimper and cry was so telling. Every tug at her wrist, dragged whine of please please pleaseee and toe clench made it pretty obvious what she was doing to you. And Abby saw it to be no less than a fucking honor to be the one in between your legs.

“ o..god— hurtss…”

She groaned, watching as you tried to slow her hips with your hands. Pathetically you pushed at the black harness but it only made her smile. Gently, she grabbed your hands with one hand, pressing them into the curve of your back making you cry her name again. Abby nearly keeled over at the way you grew louder.

Like the secret sadist she was, she found it to be so addicting knowing your ass was burning with every thrust. Knowing that everytime you were crying was because of the workout regimen she made just for you.

She leaned down suddenly, the pace of her hips inhumanly thrusting at the same speed. Only now it sunk deeper from this angle making a choked sob leave your throat and reach her ears like a melody.

She trailed kisses from your neck, the sweat only making her want to kiss you more. She trailed around till she was right next to your face.

So pretty, she thought. So loud.

“ h—hu…”

She kissed the side of your cheek, causing your stomach to somehow do more flips. Her braid was undone by now, the waves of her blonde hair colliding with yours, small strands ever so slightly tickling your back.

“ shh I know cookie…hurts so good right?”

Two more iridescent tears fell down your face, your breath caught in your throat. Your mascara painted your eyes, cheeks flushed and hair messy. But to Abby, this was the prettiest you’ve ever looked.

“ yess…so good!”

“ yeah?”

Suddenly she was back upright, secretly missing the view of your ass hitting her skin. You immediately clung to the sheets the moment you felt her hands release your arms. Besides, Abby found something way better to mess with. She used both of her hands to squeeze your ass making your eyes roll back at the sharp pain.

“ yeah baby, it’s definitely fatter.”

She used hand to wrap around and draw sticky circles on your clit.

“ my sweet girl, always taking me so well.”

Spoken too soon because not even a second later you were pulling at the sheets, crawling towards the other end. She clicked her tongue at you.

“ aww, now that’s not sweet of you. come back mama.”

Without even waiting for you to listen she decided to move you herself. You mewled when she gripped your hair, the evidence of all those 60 pound weights showing in your scalp. Instantly you were dragged back, more tears cascading down your face. White spots started to blur your vision. That feeling in your tummy was growing so intense that you thought you might pass out.

But Abby was right there behind you, gripping your beautiful hair, ready to get you where you needed. You tried to speak, to say anything, to warn her. But she already knew. She always did.

“ shh it’s ok, you’re gonna cum soon babe. be sweet again and make a mess for me.”

She smiled as you did exactly that, your body shaking like a leaf. The sounds you made were so damn filthy but it didn’t compare to the filthy scene of you leaking onto the strap. She whispered “my filthy girl” over and over as she fucked you through it until she let go of your hair and let you collapse on the bed.

She slowed her thrust until she simply sat inside of you. You struggled to breath as she left kisses all along your back before she remembered how pretty your breast were. She flipped you over with her still inside, leaving dark marks all over your breast and chest. She trailed down to the fat of your stomach, leaving a bite mark near your belly button.

“ Think you can give me one more? Really gotta make sure we work those muscles.” She murmured into your skin.

You looked down at her.

“ just o-one?”

She hummed.

“ Just one cookie.”

She was lying.

After that day you never missed leg day. And ever since that day Abby made sure to fuck you the day after

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ 𝔹𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕊𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕖♡

♡ Pairings: fratboy!jaehyun x chubby!fem!reader, fratboy!johnny x chubby!fem!reader, fratboy!nct members

♡ Genre: college au/angst/fluff/smut

♡ Summary: Jaehyun has made it a habit of playing with your heart. One day he loves you, the next he hates you, with nothing in between. Growing tired of his games, you find your attention drifting somewhere else. Toward his roommate and frat brother Johnny to be exact.

♡ Word Count: 10k-ish

♡ Warnings: jaehyun's a fuckboy, nct frat is full of fuckboys actually, two couples having sex in the same room (not an orgy), unprotected sex, a lil spanking, partying, kissing, drinking, casual/meaningless sex, sexual fantasies, fingering, heartbreak, pet names (baby), mucho crying, & that's all my loves

♡ A/N: I started this fic months ago but I posted a pretty unfinished version of it because I was just not in the best space so I decided to go back and give my lil fic the love that it deserves. If you've read it before, there's new sections thrown in the mix and it now has an ending. If you've never even knew it existed then I hope you enjoy reading. I'm low key considering making this a series ✨NCT frat boy cinematic universe ✨ I've also gotta thank @anyamaris for always being there to read things for me and @tofethee for being the literal reason that I remembered my lil unfinished fic existed xoxoxo

It was exciting at first. 

Weekends at the frat house partying with Jaehyun. No rules. No limitations. Everything a girl could want just waiting to be given to her if she asked. And the sex? The sex was incredible. Jaehyun could be a real asshole sometimes but he always knew how to make you cum so hard your ears were ringing. 

You knew from the start that it’d be delusional to think you were anything more to him than a pretty face and a dependable fuck. Jaehyun’s killer bone structure and gorgeous features make him what one might imagine a fairytale prince to be. All the girls on campus dream of being with him and he knows it. He loves it.

That man has an ego bigger than his cock which is unfortunately rather large. There’s so much of himself floating around in his head that there’s just no room for anyone else. Still he has his endearing moments, ones that make a girl feel special, and that’s what keeps you coming back when you begin to think better of tolerating his bullshit.

That’s why you’re here tonight, knees digging into his mattress, cheek pressed to his pillow, as he fucks you from behind. You feel it, the force of his hips snapping against your ass, his cock pulsing deep in your core. But it feels like nothing. It’s like getting a tooth pulled after the dentist has numbed you up real good. The force of the movement is there but the feeling’s gone.

A few feet away another bed creaks as a girl you’ve only met once or twice rides Jaehyun’s frat brother Johnny like one of those mechanical bulls. This isn’t abnormal. During these parties sex happens any time, anywhere, and that almost always includes being in the same room together. But you can’t help feeling like a pervert for stealing a few glances of the adjacent couple.

Jaehyun never formally introduced you to Johnny. Come to think of it, he's never formally introduced you to anyone. It was Johnny who introduced himself one night when you’d had a few too many drinks for your own good and ended up hunched over the toilet with Jaehyun nowhere to be found. 

Johnny sat with you for hours making sure you were hydrated and feeding you snacks until he was sure you were okay. You can’t for the life of you remember what was said. You can only recall that you felt comfortable and safe with him. It was enough to make you develop the tiniest crush that’s only been made worse by how sweet he’s been to you since.

Jaehyun slaps your ass, interrupting your train of thought. Almost simultaneously Johnny begins to caress the other girl’s hips. There’s so much tenderness in the way he touches her and you envy it. You wish Jaehyun could give you even a fraction of that. Just once. Pulling the girl in for a kiss, Johnny wraps his arms around her, holding her close to his chest. With her head nestled in the side of his neck, he cradles her gently as he lifts into her at a slow, rhythmic pace. 

You imagine that’s you, not being hammered into but actually feeling something, and magically the friction of Jaehyun’s cock rubbing your walls feels good. In fact, far better than it ever has before. You let out a moan, a whisper, “Aah, oh god.” Jaehyun takes notice of it, loving the way you clench too much not to hit that sweet spot again and again. He’s so distracted by the delicious jiggling of your body, his vision curtained by messy dark brown hair, that he can’t see that he isn’t the only one captivated by you.

But you notice. Johnny’s staring back at you now, his eyes glued to yours as he takes in all those pretty faces you make. This isn’t the first time he’s watched you either. He and Jaehyun were roommates long before you came into the picture. Johnny’s seen more than a few girls naked in Jaehyun’s bed but you’re the only one he’s cared to sneak a peek at. The crush you have on him is so mutual. How you never picked up on it he doesn’t know but it’s oh so obvious now.

The longing behind Johnny’s eyes is immense, luring you further into his gaze until he’s all you see. Setting your bodies on autopilot with your respective partners, you begin to quietly explore each other. Your minds indulge in every dirty thought you’ve had about each other. Thoughts you’d suppressed out of fear that you were doing something wrong. You find yourself getting wetter than you’ve been all night, walls dripping twice as much as they hug Jaehyun’s cock.

“Damn, you feel so good, baby” Jaehyun praises, planting kisses down the middle of your back. He shifts to a position he knows will have you trembling and you let out the sexiest moan. So sexy it makes Johnny’s cock twitch inside of the other girl, heat washing over both of your bodies. 

“You’re so fucking cute” Johnny whispers in a way that seems to be for the girl in his arms but is meant for you and only you. His face lights up like the 4th of July at every broken moan or arch of your back. You can tell how badly he wishes the pussy warming his cock right now were yours and you get the filthiest rush out of that.

As the pressure inside of you reaches its peak your legs begin to shake, knees threatening to give out from under you. A faint smile creeps across Johnny’s face and he mouths to you, “Cum.” And you do, as if on command. Burying your face in the pillow, you bite down on the fluffy cotton and let it fill your cheeks. It’s a gag of sorts, a desperately needed one incase you should cry out the wrong name on accident.

You know in your heart that even by frat boy standards you’ve crossed a line. You’ve stumbled into territory there’s no coming back from. But when it feels this good it’s difficult to want to turn back anyway. 

“You’re overreacting. It’s not like you’re my girlfriend.” 

You know this to be true, Jaehyun isn’t your boyfriend, but it hurts all the same to wake up to him texting another girl. Your heart sank when you rolled over this morning, still in his arms, to find him making plans to meet up with her tonight.

It was so blatant, he didn’t even attempt to hide what he was doing, and maybe that’s what hurts most of all. You thought he cared enough about you to at least pretend he wasn’t playing the absolute fuck out of you. It’s clear now that you thought wrong. 

“You’re such an asshole, you know that?” you shout, gathering your things from the floor, the sheet from his bed still draped around your naked body. 

A fully dressed Jaehyun casually searches the dresser for his keys, the smile on his face so cocky you want to slap it off. “Right, I’m going to the gym. You know how to see yourself out right?” 

Picking up one of your heels, you channel all your strength into throwing it at his head. “I never wanna see you again!” 

Jaehyun opens the bedroom door in time to take cover behind it, the heel of your shoe leaving a dent where it would’ve hit him. “Ooh, feisty” he teases, cracking the door to throw you a wink, “Save some of that for next time, hmm?”

There’s so much you want to say but none of it will change anything. He walks away from you like it’s nothing and that’s precisely what you feel like. Nothing. Unable to hold back anymore, you burst into tears where you stand, gathering up some of the sheet to sob quietly into. You can’t recall the last time you cried like this. A chest tightening, nose dripping, lip quivering type of cry that makes you want to double over in pain. 

“Hey, come here” a voice whispers, the rasp of sleep still hanging over it.

You feel a tug on the back of the sheet and turn to see Johnny sitting up in bed, one hand rubbing his barely open eyes while the other clings to the sheet around you.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up” you apologize, too embarrassed to make eye contact, “I’ll just get my things and—”

“No, come here” he insists, pulling you closer to his bed, “Come lay with me.”

Something in you says to resist it—you shouldn’t be crawling into bed with Jaehyun’s roommate—but Johnny’s already taking you by the hand, guiding you down into the empty spot beside him. No words are spoken as he pulls the soft blanket over the two of you, tucking it at your side to keep you warm.

His head hits the pillow, heavy lids closing, as he pulls you into his chest. There’s tension at first, on your part only. A hesitance to allow yourself to fully relax into the gentle embrace you’ve been desperately pining for. But the longer he holds you, his palm massaging your lower back in soothing figure eights, the more you soften.

“You don’t deserve this, you know?” he finally says when your tears have subsided and your breathing has evened out enough for you to speak. There’s exhaustion in those words as he says them, giving the impression that this is something he’s wanted to ask you for a long time. 

“Is this gonna be a lecture?” you sniffle, nervously patting the tears from the dips between his muscles, “Because I really don’t need a lecture right now.” 

Johnny laughs, letting out a yawn, “Nah, it’s too early for a lecture. My brain’s not heated up yet.” 

“Not heated up yet? What does that even mean?” you giggle, leaning to look up at him, your nose scrunched in confusion. Johnny opens his eyes, staring back at you with those starry brown orbs, and you’re transported back to the way you felt last night. If you thought his gaze made you want to melt from afar, it’s reducing you to volcanic ash at this distance. 

“Well, it’s like, when you first wake up your brain’s cold. Your thoughts are all jumbled so you’ve gotta wait a little, let it heat up” Johnny explains, the tips of his sable hair kissing your face.  

“You’re, uh…” you stutter, searching for the perfect word, “Really…interesting? Yeah, you’re interesting, Johnny Suh.” 

The most genuine smile takes over that handsome face as he lets out a joyful squeak, sincerely flattered by your comment. “Yeah? Well, so are you. You’re really interesting and cool and cute. I did mean that last night. You are cute.”

You tuck your head, trying to hide a smile of your own, but Johnny caresses your cheek, bringing you right back. “Why do you let him treat you like that?” he asks without the slightest bit of judgment. Your smile fades as you contemplate a question you aren’t even sure you know the answer to. You file through 1001 possibilities before coming to the raw, painful truth. 

“I was trying to prove something, I guess” you confess, feeling an odd sense of relief at admitting this to him and yourself. “I thought if I could attain the unattainable it’d be proof that I was special.”

Johnny scoffs, rolling his eyes, “Jaehyun? Unattainable? I could fuck him if I complemented him enough.” 

“Thanks, that makes me feel so much better” you huff, beginning to regret that moment of vulnerability. 

“No, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean that he isn’t one of those people that can appreciate when they have something special.” 

You shrug in defeat, letting your fears fall freely from your lips, “Yeah, I don’t know if any guy can at this point.”

“So you think we’re all the same?” he asks, tilting your head to let your lips brush his. His lips are like static, making the little hairs on your arm stand on end. Your heart’s running a marathon and the butterflies in your stomach are throwing fits. This can’t be happening. Only it is.

You swallow hard, inhaling the scent of the fresh morning air meddled with his cologne. “Well, I…I mean no one’s really shown me any different.” 

Johnny presses his lips to yours, lingering there for a moment to savor the warmth of your kiss. “Can you give it some time?” he whispers, fingers charting a course across the curve of your hip to take your hand into his. 

“It or you, Johnny?” you ask, silently begging him not to say a thing if it’s not something he means.

“Hmm,” he hums, bringing your hand up to gently kiss your inner wrist, your palm, your fingertips, “Me.”

Your phone vibrates in your hand, Jaehyun’s name flashing on the screen. 

You’d think it was a bomb by how delicately you’re holding it, careful not to breathe too hard out of fear that it’ll somehow answer the call. It’s the 5th time he’s called today, probably the 9th in the last 24 hours, but you can’t bring yourself to pick up the call. There’s nothing he can say that the dozens of unanswered text messages he’s sent in the last week haven’t already.

He didn’t mean to talk to you that way. The girl he was texting meant nothing to him. He hadn’t even gone to see her that night. He only cares about you. Only wants you. If you just give him the chance he’ll prove it to you. Just pick up the phone. Just let him see you. 

“Block him” your best friend AJ whispers, sneaking up behind you. 

“Fuck!” you scream, nearly jumping out of your skin. You thought that the walk in fridge at work was the perfect place to hide but you only managed a couple of seconds without being caught.

AJ giggles, hugging you from behind, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, girl. I just saw you sneaking off and you know I had to check on you. I mean it though, you really should block him. He’s never gonna change.”

You let out a long, heavy sigh knowing there’s no way to deny the truth. In the past you’ve made excuses for him. You’ve cried in her arms too many times to count. You can’t justify it anymore. Not to her and not to yourself.

You shove your phone down into the pocket of your apron, your mind set on blocking him as soon as your shift’s over. “You’re right. He can be some other girl’s problem. I’m over it.” 

“See, that’s what I like to hear. Now that he’s out of the way, you ready to scope out some new cuties?”

You’re too familiar with the mischievous look on her face. You’ve seen it a million times before and it means trouble every time. “AJ, what are you talking about?”

“Well, these guys just came in looking for you. They asked to be seated in your section and they’re hot, like…” AJ fans herself dramatically, “Hot.”

You roll your eyes, pretending not to be interested, but you both know that you’re faking it. “Which table?”

“That’s my girl!” she cheers, grabbing you by the hand and dragging you out into the chaos of the busy kitchen. 

15 seconds. That’s how long you’d known peace. It seems short but that’s an eternity during dinner rush. Sometimes it gets so hectic here that you hardly have time to catch your breath and it’s shaping up to be one of those nights. 

“Table 7, off you go” AJ hums, ushering you out into the main dining area. 

You turn back to ask her questions. Did they give a name? Did they say what they wanted? Any defining details other than “hot”? But one of her tables is waving her down and she’s already scurrying off to help them. It’s up to you to solve the mystery now and there’s only one way to find out.

Smoothing out your clothes and straightening up your hair, you make your way to table 7 as casually as you can, trying not to seem too eager to greet the patrons that await you. 

“I don’t care about food. I need alcohol” one of the guys whines, flipping through the menu in search of the drink section.

“Who fixes a hangover with more alcohol?” his friend laughs, raking his fingers through his long brown hair. 

“You can fix a beer hangover with wine. I’m pretty sure.”

“I feel like that’s not true” you say as you approach the table, “Actually, no, that’s definitely not true.” 

All conversation halts at the sight of you. AJ was right. They are hot, every single last one of them, but especially the one seated closest to you, his eyes beaming as he stares up at you. 

“Hey” Johnny sighs, his voice light and floaty. 

You feel your cheeks warm, an unexpected shyness overtaking you, “Hi Johnny.”

“Hi Johnny” the guy next to him teases, tucking his hair behind his ear. 

Johnny elbows him in the side, never taking his eyes off of you, “Ignore him. He was dropped on his head as a kid. That’s Jungwoo” He points to the two across from him, “That’s Doyoung. Yuta.”

“Nice to meet you” Doyoung smiles, reaching out to shake your hand, “We’ve heard a lot about you. Johnny won’t shut up about you actually. You know—”

Yuta throws an arm across Doyoung’s shoulder, covering Doyoung's mouth with one hand, “Can we get a couple of waters to start?”

“Uh, sure, no problem. I’ll be right back” you nod, pretending that Doyoung’s little slip up hasn’t left you feeling all fuzzy inside. Johnny talks about you to his friends? Something like that hasn’t happened in so long that you almost forgot what it feels like. 

“Wait, one more thing” Johnny says, jumping up to block your way before you can leave. 

You giggle at the urgency in his movement. You’d think you were going to war in another country instead of just a few feet away to grab some water. “Sure, what’s up?” 

Noticing that he might’ve seemed a bit too excited, Johnny tries to calm down but his cool image is already shattered. He can’t go back. “I just wanted to ask what time you got off work tonight.”

You glance over at the clock hanging from the wall near the entrance, “Hmm, like, another two hours.”

Johnny takes your hand, nervously fidgeting with the delicate silver ring on your finger. “There’s somewhere I wanna take you tonight. Would it be okay if maybe I hung around and waited for you?”

“You’re gonna sit here for two hours and wait for me?”

“Well, yeah, we still have to order our food and I’ll just eat really, really, really, slow,” he says, leaning into you until your lips just barely brush. “Okay?”

You’re at work. He can’t be this close to you. It’s unprofessional. Yet you don’t move an inch out of his way. You can hear your heart beating in your ears, your body so flush with heat that you’re on the verge of begging someone to crack a window in here.

“Yeah, okay” you whisper and he presses his lips to yours, unable to resist his intrusive thoughts. Not even this once.

The kiss is quick. Quick enough that not everyone could see—quick enough not to get you in trouble on the clock—but the tingle that it leaves behind lasts the rest of your shift. It’s enough to make you forget all those missed calls and text messages. You’re floating on a cloud, your head so lost in stolen glances and passing contact with Johnny that your shift’s over before you know it and he’s taking you by the hand, leading you across the street to where his car awaits.

“Have fun you two!” Doyoung calls back as the others split in their own direction. 

“And Johnny don’t say anything stupid!” Jungwoo throws in. 

“Yeah, don’t do that thing you do where you like a girl and your palms get all sweaty” Yuta teases. 

Johnny hurries you into the car before his friends can say anything else but you can still hear them taunting him, even as their voices fade down the street. Hopping into the car Johnny lays his head on the steering wheel, letting out a huff of frustration. “I’m going to kill them. Every single last one of them.”

You reach over to rub his knee, putting on your sexiest voice, “I happen to think sweaty palms are very sexy.” 

Johnny turns to look at you, a moment of silence passing before he rewards you with the exact laughter you wanted to shake out of him. “Sexy, huh?” 

“Yes, actually” you swear, batting your eyelashes, “I love a man with good…perspiration.” 

“So you’re cute and you’re funny” he muses, “Guess I’m doomed.”

“Doomed? To what exactly?”

Johnny shrugs, looking you up and down, giving himself time to take you in. He’s always thought you were gorgeous. Any time you came to the frat house all dolled up he couldn’t take his eyes off of you and even now, dressed in your work clothes with not a drop of makeup on, he can’t think of anything more beautiful. Is it even possible? 

Snapping out of it, he clears his throat and sits up straight. “It’s nothing. Forget it. You ready to go?” 

Curious but not wanting to press the issue you just snap on your seatbelt and nod, “Mmhmm.”

You’re even cute when you’re taking safety precautions. It’s sickening. He wants to lean over and kiss you again, maybe for a little longer this time, but he knows if he does he’ll never leave this spot so instead he starts the car, fighting to keep his mind on track. Truly a task when he’s next to you. 

At first the ride’s quiet. Not awkward. Just quiet. Neither of you knows what to do—how to act. You’ve exchanged a few texts here and there since that morning you crawled into his bed. You’d even seen each other in passing on campus, shared a few brief hugs, but you hadn’t been alone together since. Are you really doing this? What is it that you’re doing anyway? It’s a question that you both want to ask but somehow it seems too soon. 

“Only serial killers drive in silence. I need music” you blurt out and Johnny laughs off your comment, happy to finally meet someone as random as he is. 

Digging in his pocket, he pulls out his phone and hands it to you. “Here, it’s connected to the car. Play whatever you want.”

Cradling his phone in your palms like a newborn baby, you stare at him in shock as his lock screen awaits a code. 

“020995” he says, waiting for you to tap in the digits. When you don’t he repeats it, slower this time, “02…09…95.”

“Huh?”

“The password. To my phone.”

The information hits you on a delay, only adding to your shock. “You’re giving me the password to your phone?”

“Yeah, how else will you use it?” he asks, unsure what exactly has you so confused. 

Not wanting to make the moment any more awkward than it already is, you tap the numbers into his phone, navigating his apps until you find the music. The anxiety is nauseating. The last time you looked at a guy’s phone you ended up crying and you never want to feel that way again. But Johnny seems so calm, so totally unbothered by you having his phone, that your worries begin to subside. After all you’ve been through it’s easy to think that every guy has something to hide but maybe, just maybe, this one doesn’t. 

Pushing your insecurities to the back of your mind, you settle into your new job as the resident DJ and find yourself having fun—actual fun—for the first time in a long time. It’s enough being in the car with him, jamming out to your favorite songs, sharing stories about concerts you’ve been to, that you aren’t even concerned about the destination. It isn’t until you’re pulling into a spot off the side of a pitch black road that you begin to wonder where exactly he’s taking you. 

Johnny hops out of the car first, circling around to the trunk for something. You crack your door open, just enough to get a peek at him. “I know I joked about that whole serial killer thing but—”

“Turn the flashlight on” he instructs, ignoring your second implication of him as a killer. 

Flipping on his phone’s flashlight, you shine it in his direction to find him standing there with a blanket. He slams the trunk closed and approaches you, leaning against the back door, “I definitely brought you out here to kill you. Death by a really cozy blanket.”

You slip out of the car, hesitantly scanning your surroundings, “Then what are we out here for, hmm?” 

“Just hold the flashlight straight and trust me for a few minutes” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you through what slowly reveals itself to be a park. 

There’s trees and benches. A few trails leading in each direction. Wooden signs are painted marking which way to go for camping and where to find the small creek you can hear rushing nearby. You’re grateful to have worn sneakers to work. A pair of heels would've never survived the stone pathway you have to traverse to make it deeper into the woods and closer to wherever he’s taking you.

You remain silent for a few minutes, doing your best to trust the process, and just as you’re about to question this plan of his the hard stone beneath your shoes turns soft and grassy. The trees break open into a small clearing where the moon beams down, brightly illuminating the world below. You gaze up at the sky in awe. You’ve never seen the stars this vividly before. They seem so close that you could touch them. 

“It’s so beautiful” you gasp, nearly tripping over the blanket as Johnny begins to lay it out behind you. 

“See, told you I wasn’t trying to kill you” he teases, kissing you on the forehead, “I come out here sometimes when I’m feeling overwhelmed. I figured you might be pretty overwhelmed too lately so I thought it might be nice for you.”

Johnny takes a seat on the blanket and you slip down beside him, your eyes still fixed on the stars. “I didn’t know you were the stargazing type.”

“Surprised?” he asks, gently stroking your cheek.

Without a second thought, you lean into his touch, letting yourself enjoy the sensation of his skin against yours. And just like that you can’t be bothered with the stars anymore. He’s all you can see. All you can feel. “I’m surprised by a lot of things when it comes to you.” 

“Like what?”

You know that you should be careful with your words but you can’t control what comes out of your mouth next. “Like why you’re doing all of this. Why you even care about me?”

Johnny sits with your question, giving it as long as it needs to truly sink in. “Remember that night you came over and got sick?”

You cringe at the thought of it, “Oh god. Unfortunately, yes. Tell me that has nothing to do with this.”

“You weren’t as bad as you think” he swears, “I’ve seen much worse, trust me. I know you might not remember a lot about that night but you were there for me too. I wasn’t in the best headspace then and I didn’t really wanna go to any of the guys about it then I found you and it was, like, comforting to be with you. Once you stopped throwing up.” 

“Johnny, please” you whine, burying your face in your hands out of embarrassment. 

Johnny pulls your hands away, trying to hide his laughter, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. Messing with you is fun. But seriously, it felt nice being with you and every time I saw you after that I just kept finding things that I liked about you until I couldn’t avoid the fact that I had to have you even if you were his.”

“I was never his. He never owned me” you make it a point to say, “You could’ve had me whenever you wanted me. You only had to say it.”

Tucking his arms around your waist, he brings you onto his lap, your legs resting on either side of him. His hands find their way to your hips, smoothing over your pleated skirt to feel the softness of your bare thighs. Your breath catches at the pad of his thumb gliding over your inner thigh, inching your skirt up.

You drape your arms over his shoulders, letting yourself be drawn into eyes that reflect the moonlight so gorgeously you might as well be staring right at it. “Johnny…” you gasp, feeling his cock harden between your legs.

The friction between his pants and the moistening silk of your panties has you on the verge of moaning. Thumbing your clit through the fabric, he coaxes that moan right out of you just in time for this tongue to invade the space between your lips. Your fingers find his hair, tangling themselves within it as you raise your hips, giving him all the space he needs to tuck your panties aside.

You were so wet the other night, wet enough that he could hear it, but feeling it himself is beyond his wildest dreams. You’re so slick, so soft, like the petals of a flower after fresh rain. Droplets of your arousal coat his fingertips as he pets your entrance, sinking his fingers into you deeper and deeper with every stroke. Your moans dance off of your tongue and right onto his as you rock back and forth in his lap, mindlessly riding his fingers. 

“Can I keep you?” he whispers, curling his fingers into your sweet spot, hitting it perfectly, “I’ve wanted you for so long and I…I need you to be all mine.” He stares you dead in the eyes, meaning every word that he says. He wants you and he won’t share you. Not with Jaehyun. Not with anyone. 

“You can keep me. I’m yours. I’m—aah” you whimper, your pleasure only heightened by his need, “All yours.”

What are you even saying? What are you doing? Falling onto your back. That’s what. Lying on this blanket with your legs spread and your back arched, watching the night sky twinkle above you as Johnny’s fingers drive into you while you pledge your pussy juice drenched allegiance to him. 

Somewhere in the car, buried in your purse, your phone’s vibrating again. Another missed call from Jaehyun. But you’re too far out of his reach in more ways than one. Further than he could ever imagine. 

You fight. You cry. You get back together again. 

Fight. Cry. Get back together again. That’s the way things have always been between you and Jaehyun. He knows it isn’t healthy but, in his own twisted way, it’s the only way he can trust that you care about him. There’s no justification for it, nothing you did to him in the past that warrants such cruel and unusual punishment.

Jaehyun’s addicted to the rush of getting back together. The desperate, passionate moment when your bodies collide after a week or so apart. Both of you too filled with need to care about what tore you apart in the first place. He can only get that with you, he only wants it with you.

But this time he took it too far, did a bit too much in his attempt to make you jealous, and now you won’t even speak to him. When he knocks on your door your roommate lies and says you aren’t there, refusing to open it more than a crack to shoot him down. Every call goes to voicemail, every text message left undelivered, and on the rare occasion that you run into each other you treat him like a ghost. 

Seated on the sectional couch at the heart of his living room, Jaehyun stares into the void of faceless partiers swarming the frat house. The beer cradled between his fingers has the top popped off but he’s barely been touched. The chattering of his frat brothers scattered across the couch might as well be miles away. 

A girl in a black mini skirt sneaks up behind him, arms wrapped around his shoulders, “You look sad, baby. Need me to cheer you up?” She licks her lips, planting soft, wet kisses down his neck the way she did a few nights ago when he was in need of some rebound sex that more than failed to satisfy him. 

Jaehyun pats her on the arm, shrugging her off, “Thanks but, uh, no thanks.” 

“Wait, what?” she frowns, arms folded across her chest, “You’re joking right?” 

Scooting closer to Jaehyun, his frat brother Taeyong places a sympathetic hand on hers. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I don’t think he wants to play with you anymore." 

At the other end of the couch their brother Yuta raises his beer, winking at the girl, “But I will. I volunteer!” 

“Fuck you, Jaehyun and your asshole friends!” the girl huffs, storming off into the crowd. 

“Wait! Are you sure?” Yuta calls out after her, “Don’t you know what they say about Japanese guys with long hair? We’re perverts. The best kind!”

“Did she say fuck her in the asshole?” Doyoung asks, his ears turning red from one too many shots. 

“Who’s getting fucked in the asshole?” Mark asks, flopping down beside Yuta on the couch. He’s younger than the other guys, probably shouldn’t be here, but they all have a soft spot for him, especially Yuta, so he gets to stick around. 

Yuta pouts, laying his head on Mark’s shoulder, “No one, sadly.” 

“Can you guys not be pigs for two seconds? Grow up” Jaehyun snaps, chugging down his beer so fast it makes him dizzy. 

“Ooh, someone’s cranky tonight” Taeyong teases, “What’s got you so uptight? You’re usually the worst of us.” 

Doyoung pours himself another shot, taking a quick, adorable sip of it. “She blocked him. On everything. Won’t even talk to him. So sad.” 

Jaehyun’s tempted to throw the empty bottle at Doyoung’s head and, unlike when you threw your shoe at him, there’s no way he could miss the shot. But Mark swoops in, wedging himself between Jaehyun and Taeyong to provide some comfort. “Aww, man, your girl broke your heart? I’m sorry. Hugs?” 

As Mark embraces Jaehyun, Yuta scoffs at the display. “His girl?” Yuta laughs, “Hardly. He fucked her. By that standard mini skirt was his girl too.” 

“Oh and her!” Doyoung adds, pointing to the curly haired girl in the corner.

The others pile on, making a game out of spotting girls Jaehyun’s slept with. Jaehyun snatches free of Mark’s hug, refusing to sit through anymore of this. He’s ready to storm off himself but doubles back to clarify something. “She’s not like them, alright? So respect her or I’ll hit you so hard every meal you have until next semester will need to be through a straw.” 

Taeyong throws his hands up, leading the others in easing up on Jaehyun. “No problem, bro. We were just fucking with you. We’ll respect her—or whatever” 

“Uh, excuse me, am I interrupting something?” you ask, clearing your throat. The sound of your voice makes Jaehyun’s heart skip a beat and when he turns around to find that pretty face staring back at him, his heart all but stops. 

“N…no, we were just, wh…what are you doing here?” he stutters, a glimmer of emotion showing through for the first time in a long time. “I thought you hated me.”

You knew this day would come. It’s going on 3 weeks of evading any form of interaction with him but you knew that one day your luck would run out. You’d have to experience this moment. This conversation. The feelings you had for Jaehyun haven’t subsided easily. It stung to accept that he could never feel for you the way you wished he did but it was easier to let go when you had someone soft and loving to land on. 

Johnny hasn’t been your rebound, he’s been the furthest thing from it. You adore being with him. He does all the things you ever wanted a guy to do. He’s silly in ways you don’t always get but that’s just a part of his charm. He’s thoughtful and patient, never making you question if he has eyes for any girl other than you. You don’t hate Jaehyun. You don’t even have the time to when Johnny exists. 

“Hate you? No but have you—” you begin to whisper, burning under the spotlight of his frat brothers’ gaze. The ones that know already know but it’s clear they haven’t dared to speak up either. “Have you talked to Johnny?” 

Jaehyun’s a statue, rendered immobile by his confusion, “Talked to Johnny about what?”

“Baby!” Johnny cheers, popping out of the crowd to sweep you up into his arms, “What are you doing here? I told you I’d come get you.” 

“I know but my roommate was headed over here so I thought I’d save you a trip.” You try to clue him in that something’s happening but he’s showering you in so many kisses that you ultimately give into it, giggling like the happiest girl in the world. 

“Johnny, people are watching” you finally manage as your feet meet the ground again, Johnny’s arms secure around your waist. 

“Baby, I don’t care about people—” Johnny stops himself short, noticing precisely which people you happen to be referring to. 

The sadness on Jaehyun’s face tells you that he and Johnny haven’t talked about this. Not once. You catch yourself feeling bad for him, knowing the pain he feels oh too well. It’s the same pain that he dished out to you without remorse or reason and the thought of that turns your empathy into satisfaction. Revenge, bittersweet but successfully acquired all the same. 

“Jae, I’m sorry, really” Johnny apologizes, approaching Jaehyun to make peace but peace isn’t of interest and apologies aren’t enough. 

Jaehyun barrels past Johnny, nearly knocking him down in the process, “Fuck it, you can keep her. Have fun.” 

“Wait! I’m really—” Johnny calls after him, torn between chasing down his friend and staying here with you. 

Patting him on the shoulder, you give him a tender peck on the lips, encouraging him to go ahead. “Johnny, I’ll be fine. Just do what you need to do.”

“Are you sure?” If you ask him to stay he will, no questions asked, no second guessing. If chasing after Jaehyun means hurting you he’d never do it in a million years. 

You crack a gentle, reassuring smile, “I’m sure. Now get out of here.” You playfully push him on his way and he kisses you on the back of the hand before letting go, rushing off after his friend. 

Jaehyun deserves a bit of pain for all he’s done to you but in both of their absences it sets in that maybe he isn’t the only one being hurt in all of this. Imagining how hurt Johnny would be at losing a friend, you feel the sudden weight of guilt the likes of none you’ve ever had to bear. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Especially not here in front of everyone.

“Aaah, a good old fashioned love triangle. The tragedy! The heartbreak!” Mark says, head thrown back dramatically.

Taeyong tosses a pillow at Mark, shushing the younger man. Mark catches it, cuddling it in his arms like a plushie. “What? I like love stories. I wonder, how’s it gonna end?”

Yuta grins at you, kicking his feet up on the coffee table, “Yeah, cutie, you’re the one they're gonna kill each other over. You tell us, how’s it gonna end?” 

Wiping your increasingly sweaty palms on your dress, you feel the spotlight on you growing brighter and you can’t stomach it. You take off out into the night, navigating the minefield of passed out partiers to get across the front lawn. Yuta’s words echo in your mind, “You tell us, how’s it gonna end?” Like you have all the power. Like you’re the only one responsible for any of this. How’s it gonna end? You have no clue but you wish that the ending, however bad or good, would come already.

It’s not fair. 

You should be at a movie theater right now cuddled up beside Johnny eating overpriced snacks. Instead you’re standing in the frozen section of a fluorescent lit gas station contemplating which freezer burnt pint of ice cream you’ll drown your sorrows in tonight. The adult thing to do would be to go back to the party and face this problem straight on. Or you could demolish the snacks piled into your arms and drown your issues.

“The second one, for sure” you decide, fumbling with the freezer door handle to retrieve your ice cream of choice. 

“Is there another party going on that I don’t know about?” Jaehyun asks, watching you from the end of the aisle. You groan, abandoning your ice cream mission to get as far away from him as possible. He steps in front of you, blocking your path, “I’m not stalking you. I promise. I just needed some air and I—anyway, let me help you.”

Jaehyun skips over to the ice cream, popping the freezer door open. He pokes out his lip, eyebrows furrowed in as he scans the options. “There we go” he grins, plucking your favorite ice cream from the shelf on the first try. You’ve never explicitly told him which one it was and you try not to be impressed by the fact that he cared to take note of it.

“Come on, I’ll pay for it” he insists, leading the way to the register. It takes him a few steps to realize that you haven’t followed and he spins around on his heels to find you staring at him in disgust. “What I meant to say was, may I pay for your things, my queen?” A group of passing girls giggle as he bows to you with all the elegance of a man who’s in the presence of royalty. 

“Cut it out. You’re embarrassing me” you whine and he responds with a twirl that brings him closer to you, the already defrosting ice cream jumping from hand to hand. 

“Aah but I just want the queen to be happy and I do hear this is her favorite.”

“Oh, I’m a queen now? And what does that make you? My royal court jester?” 

Jaehyun stares into your eyes, his expression turning severe, “If that’s what you want me to be.”

“It’s a little too late to be what I wanted you to be, isn’t it?” you shoot back, your voice trembling more than you’d like it to. 

“I don’t know, is it?” He asks you the question like his whole life depends on your answer.

He’s always been the one who had the upper hand, standing over you, his whimpering prey, with a knife to your throat that could end you at any time. It’s strange to be on the other end of it now but, unlike him, you’re prone to taking mercy on poor, wounded little animals. While you may not have it in you to strike the killing blow, you’re content to let him lie here and bleed out. 

“You know what? Suddenly I've lost my appetite” you say, emptying your snacks into his arms, “I’m sure there’s enough girls in your phone to share that with.”

This isn’t some melodramatic exit where you walk away expecting him to follow you. Running into him in the first place wasn’t the plan. Yet you’re barely out of the gas station parking lot when the tiny hairs on the back of your neck begin to stand on end and you just know he’s trailing behind you.

“Will you at least let me take you home? You shouldn’t be walking alone. There could be psychopaths out here!”

You pick up speed repeating to yourself, “Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. Don’t—”

“I love you!” Jaehyun shouts for the entire block to hear. It’s his voice but those can’t be his words. Fueled by rage, you ignore your own advice and turn to confront him. 

“Take it back!” you demand, refusing to accept his profession of love. Of all the things he’s ever done to manipulate you this has to be the lowest he’s gone. 

“No, if I mean it then why should I?” 

“Because you’re lying! You’re a liar! It’s what you do. It’s what you always do!” you scream, the anger you’ve held in for months overflowing. 

“Okay, I am a liar. A liar and a piece of shit who couldn’t commit to you cause I was too afraid of getting hurt so I hurt you first” he admits, “And that’s not for you to fix. Maybe I need fucking therapy, I don’t know, but I do love you.”

“That’s not enough!”

Jaehyun sees you motion to leave again and grabs your wrists, locking them at your sides. “Then tell me what’s enough and I’ll do it. It can’t be too late for us. I’m falling apart without you.”

Tears run hot down your cheeks and he cradles your face, kissing them away. It feels nicer than you want it to, more calming than repulsive. You were out, done with him forever, and look at you now, standing under the streetlights melting into the palms of his hands. But this time is different from the others and far more dangerous because for once the liar isn’t lying. He loves you and it means it. Why the fuck does he have to mean it? 

“I know this is a lot right now and you don’t have to decide. You don’t have to do anything. Just let me drive you home. Let me take care of you. Please?”

A tragic side effect of being around Jaehyun is the way that you magically find yourself right where he wants you. You know better than to accept his offer. You shouldn’t be anywhere near this man, let alone in his car, but you blink and you’re in the passenger’s seat, his hand on your thigh as he navigates the familiar streets leading back to your dorm.

Snapping back to your senses, you push his hand away, refusing to so much as look at him as you stare out of the window losing yourself in the glow of the street lights. Even when he pulls up to your dorm, you storm off to your room without a word, praying that he’ll just go away.

If you don’t talk to him he can’t say things that mess with your head. If you don’t look at him he can’t pull you in with those eyes…with that gorgeous fucking face. Navigating the halls of your building, you tell yourself not to look back. Just make it to your room and this night will all be over. You’ll be on the other side of that door and you can pretend that this never happened. 

You breathe a sigh of relief when you finally push the door open, flinging yourself into the safety of your room only for your moment of peace to be shattered in an instant by the sound of footsteps following closely behind you.

“I didn’t say you could come in” you snap, stopping Jaehyun before he gets ahead of himself. 

“I just wanted to say hi to my son. I haven’t seen him in weeks” he pouts, hands clasped together, begging for mercy. “Have a heart.”

“Whatever” you groan, too exhausted to argue any more than you already have, “You’ve got one minute then you need to leave.”

Jaehyun gives you a quick kiss on the cheek, slipping past you to get inside. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Slamming the door behind him, you kick your shoes off, counting down the seconds in your head. When you said a minute you meant it. 60 seconds exactly. Paying you no mind, Jaehyun heads straight for the fish tank in the corner of the room where a single, golden fish swims around a tank decorated with coral reefs and shiny glowing pebbles.

He taps at the glass, making kissy faces at the fish inside. “Sup, Mister Bubbles? Long time no see. I missed you.”

It’s sickening and unfortunately adorable how attached Jaehyun is to that little fish. He won him for you at a carnival when you first started dating. You chose to name him Bubbles because of those tiny bubbles he kept blowing on the ride home. Jaehyun had insisted upon adding the “Mister” to make it more official and you let him have his way. 

Jaehyun picks up the container of fish food tucked beside the tank. A special exotic blend he purchased at some upscale pet store. “You got the child support I sent, I see.”

You giggle despite yourself, throwing in a fake cough to cover it up, but it’s too late for you.

“I think I just made your mom smile” he whispers to Mister Bubbles. 

“No, I just had something in my throat” you snap, “Anyway, your minute’s up. Get out.” 

“Strict woman” he sighs, sparing one last incredibly dramatic glance at his legless son. “You’ll let me know if you need anything, yeah?” Mister Bubbles blows a few bubbles which Jaehyun takes as a ‘yes’ so he turns to you next. “And you’ll let me know if you need anything too?”

Joining him by the fish tank, you snatch the food from him, returning it to its rightful place. “We’re good.”

He watches you for a moment, picking apart your expression, your body language. All the things he knows how to read so well when it comes to you. “If you aren’t good, promise you’ll tell me? If he isn’t good to you—”

He reaches out to bring you closer and much to your frustration you don’t pull away. You don’t even flinch. Instead you’re overcome by the same feeling that left you speechless in the parking lot. Your body seems to vibrate where he touches it, longing for more. It…misses him? You miss him?

“Please don’t do this to me” you beg, close enough now that every breath makes your chests meet. “You can just let it go. You can just leave.”

You say that like it’s so easy. Jaehyun’s never been able to do that when it comes to you. That’s what always scared him so much about his feelings for you. No girl has ever had a hold on him this way. He could throw anyone away, replace them like it was nothing, but not you. You’ve always been irreplaceable and the dumbest thing he’s ever done is let you go. He won’t make that mistake again.

 “You’ve always had the cutest cheeks, you know that?” Jaehyun sighs, cupping your cheeks. He leans in closer to get a better look, his gaze dancing across your features, “Your nose too and your lips.” 

His thumb traces the bow of your upper lip and you shiver at the contact. The nearer his lips are to yours, the faster your pulse races, your own body betraying you when you need it most. The chance to stop him passes, the quickest millisecond of your life, and he’s kissing you like it’s the last time he ever will. And maybe it is. Maybe he’ll never get to taste the sweetness of your lips again and all he’ll have left of you is what lingers behind but, if that’s really what this is, he can’t let this go to waste.

When he finally breaks from the kiss you’re left breathless, trying to make sense of the mess of emotions swarming your heart.

“All I ever wanted was for someone to love me” you say, your voice ripe with pain.

Jaehyun can see the damage he’s done to you, it’s written all over your face, and it breaks him in ways he never knew it could. “And you deserve to be loved. I hate myself for ever making you believe that you didn’t but if you give me the chance to fix this I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you know how special you are.”

You must admit he has a talent for it. He knows how to string words together and make them sound so pretty a girl could forgive all the tears, all the shouting matches, all the numbers in his phone. But you aren’t so sure you’re that girl anymore. 

“Baby! Are you there?” Johnny shouts, knocking at your door.

Your blood runs cold at the reality of your situation. Johnny’s out there probably worried sick over you having disappeared from the party and here you are in the arms of the man you were supposed to leave behind. 

“I can answer it” Jaehyun offers, Johnny’s sudden appearance clearly triggering something within him. He takes a step back, heading for the door, but you jump in front of him, pushing him back with enough force to nearly knock him over. 

“Don’t you fucking dare!”

In your anger you speak louder than you should’ve, throwing your hands over your mouth at the realization. Any movement out in the hall pauses and you stand still, wishing to gain the power of invisibility just this once. Slowly the knob turns, the door inching open to shine the light of the hall over the shadows of your room. You don’t want to turn around but you have to. Johnny’s standing there, you can feel it, and you can’t just leave him like that. He wouldn’t do it to you. 

Facing him is like a knife through your stomach. You want to drop to your knees and cry. You’ve only ever seen Johnny laugh and smile. All he’s ever done when he glanced in your direction was bubble with joy but “joy” is nowhere near what he watches you with now.

“Johnny…” You reach out to touch him but he pulls back. He’s not in the mood to be touched by you right now and it wouldn’t be fair to blame him. 

“I was coming to check on you to see if you were okay but…” he glances behind you at the space where Jaehyun waits, far too close to you for comfort, “Looks like you’re all good in here, huh?”

“It’s not like that.”

“No? Then what’s it like? You’re too busy to answer my calls but not too busy to be here with him. What’s that like?”

“I get it, you’re pissed, but I can’t let you talk to her like that” Jaehyun says, irritated by Johnny’s tone of voice. 

Johnny laughs, taking a few steps towards Jaehyun, “Let me? You can’t let me do anything. Everyone else might be afraid of you but I’m not. You can’t beat me. We both know that.” 

Jaehyun shrugs, unbothered by the threat, “Why don’t we find out?”

“Shut up! You aren’t helping!” you shout, throwing him an icy glare, “No one’s fighting! We just need to calm down! Everyone calm down!”

“You’re the one that’s yelling right now, baby” he whispers and you swear you could choke the life out of him. 

The sound of Jaehyun calling you baby is enough for Johnny. If he stays any longer he doesn’t know what he’ll do and he doesn’t want to find out. “I hope you two are happy together.”

Jaehyun leans back against your dresser, content to watch Johnny walk out that door. Only you aren’t. You run behind Johnny, throwing your arms around him before he can leave. 

“Johnny, don’t leave” you weep, painting the back of his jacket with tears. You hold him so tightly that your arms dig into his stomach and he can barely breathe. “I mean it, it’s not like that. I don’t want him. I want you.”

You can’t see the shock on Jaehyun’s face but it’s in his voice loud and clear. “You what?” 

Johnny grabs your arms, gently prying them away, “Doesn’t seem like he knows that.” 

“I want to be with Johnny” you say to Jaehyun without hesitation.

“What do you mean? After everything we talked about? After everything we’ve been through? I told you that I loved you. I love you!”

He keeps using that word—love—but you aren’t even sure he knows what it means. In fact, you’re positive there’s no way he ever did. Your heart broke to see Johnny hurt because of you. You instinctively want to protect him—to do anything in your power to make it right because that’s what you do when you love someone. You choose them because the risk of losing them is too unbearable.

“In all the time we were together you never let me have anything, Jaehyun. Just let me have this one.”

Jaehyun wants to ask if that’s really what you want but you’re clinging to Johnny’s hand with such desperation that he knows it’d be a waste of breath to ask. You want one thing, just one, and it isn’t him. 

It’s strange to see him leave. You’re so used to regret pooling in the pit of your stomach each time he walks out of your life that the absence of it is odd but you don’t miss it. It’s freeing and the feeling that takes its place—the longing to be with someone new—is infinitely sweeter. Still, this is no time to celebrate. Even in Jaehyun’s absence, Johnny’s back remains turned to you, his body language cold and tense. 

“Johnny” you whisper, tip-toeing around him, “Say something.” You search his eyes for any sign of warmth for you but it’s like he’s hiding it, too afraid to let it show.

“Do you love him?” he asks plainly, “Please don’t lie to me. I just…I can’t do this if you still love him.”

You think back to when Jaehyun kissed you. It stirred up so many feelings inside of you and every single one of them was for Johnny. “I love someone but it isn’t him.” 

Johnny’s cheeks redden, the warmth you were in search of returning little by little. “Wh-what are you saying?” 

“I’m saying that I love you, Johnny Suh. If that’s okay with you” you smile, petting his cheek. 

“I mean, yeah, it’s more than okay. I lo—”

“Ssh” you say, placing a finger over his lips, “You don’t have to say it back. Not until you’re ready. I just wanted you to know.” 

Johnny swats your hand away, pulling you into him, “I love you too. If that’s okay with you.” 

You just smile, a fluttery sensation invading your body, “Of course it’s okay. It’s more than okay. It’s perfect.”

Johnny backs you up against the door, locking it tightly as it slams shut behind you. He lulls you into a slow, passionate kiss that slips every broken piece of you quietly back into place.

There’s no confusion. No fear. No wrongs that need forgiving. All you ever wanted was someone to truly love you and now you’ll never have to doubt that you’ve found someone who does. 

[makeitworse]

picture you

⟢ dae-ho × f reader | nsfw, mdni!

dae-ho’s having a little trouble focusing on his studies, so you offer him a hand.

c/w: university au, very subby dae-ho, male masturbation, he’s pervy & ashamed abt it, praise kink, dry-humping, he cums in his pants a/n: quick lil idea i wanted to get out

dae-ho’s sorry, he really was. he was close to banging his head on these books. you’re on your third explanation of this topic, and his brain wasn’t retaining any of it.

he (once) prided himself in being a better man than this— but he couldn’t focus today. not when you showed up to his lesson looking so.. enticing.

you were being so patient with him, and here he was repaying the favour by defiling you in his thoughts. it’s disgusting. and he can’t stop.

were you always this alluring to him? how did you manage to one-up your already perfect looks, and have him shifting in his chair to slyly adjust the front of his pants like some hormonal teen?

he was watching your mouth move, but the words weren’t reaching his ears, not when last night’s visions were flooding back.

your cheek hollowed out, glossy eyes looking up at him as you kneeled in front of his chair.

he gulped, grounding himself back in reality and swallowing the daydream down. his throat burned with guilt.

it killed him to objectify you in such a way, every night when he’s alone in the dark with his hand and imagination. he doesn’t mean to, really. he didn’t start out wanting to, it’s just... he can’t stop. he can’t do it without you.

he used to tell himself it was just a coincidence that he’d scroll through your pictures beforehand. he swears to no one in particular that it’s an accident when your name falls from his lips as he cums.

it doesn’t mean anything when he has to restrain himself from checking you out as you stretch in your chair. it’s only a ‘random, for no-reason’ boner after you tell him how well he did.

dae-ho was eager to please. he craved your praise, and he needed to ace this upcoming exam so he gets to hear you tell him how proud you are.

but in some poetic karma, having you as a tutor had him falling further behind.

he’s watching you softly bite your lip as you reread the textbook, maybe wondering how to explain it in a way he can understand. you uncross and recross your legs, and his gaze flickers to the space between them.

when he looks back up, he’s met with your eyes staring back at his.

shit.

“dae, what’s going on?”

your still voice rips the sheets off of his dirty thoughts. he stammers like an idiot, caught with his hand down his pants.

“has something been bothering you?”

“ah,” he groans. he doesn’t want to disappoint you. but, he really can’t concentrate today.

earnestly, he nods.

“is it anything i can help with?”

the look on his face says it all. the way his expression drops at your offer to help with his ‘bother’— which was actually straining against his pants. he’s not even certain if what you just said was real, or if he’s lost in another daydream.

“okay,” you shut the textbook with a thud. “let’s take a break.”

dae-ho’s jaw was slack as he studied you. telling you what he really needed seemed out of the question. but you’re serious as you survey him, eyes darting up and down his body.

he gulps at the weight of your gaze. did you see his..?

dae-ho freezes up at the touch of your hand on his knee.

“what can we do to get you back to focus, dae?”

his erection is raging at him to just say it with his words. you’re offering, after all. your hand is literally on his knee. and, oh god, you’re creeping your fingers up his thigh. his eyes damn nearly roll back into his head.

“would this help?”

he blinks. he blinks again. he needs to know the way you’re pulling him in through a half-lidded gaze is real. really real. you look like you could eat him up, and he’d let you gladly.

dae-ho’s nod in reply is so tiny, he’s not even sure he actually got it out. but he knows he did when your other hand comes to cradle his cheek.

all air leaves his lungs as you swiped a thumb to his bottom lip, pressing down on the soft skin.

“ah,” you direct, and he parts his mouth open for you. your thumb slides onto his tongue, which elicits a noise from his throat he quickly stifles.

you hum in praise as dae-ho closes his lips around your thumb and sucks lightly. the twitch of his dick is a spotlight on the very evident tent in his pants.

it’s not like dae-ho’s never been touched before— but he’s questioning the standard of his previous encounters, when you had him this hard in a harmless tutoring session.

you pop your thumb from his mouth as your other hand rides further up his leg, stopping dangerously close to his crotch. your palm’s like a magnet the way he’s resisting the urge to buck into it.

“this okay?”

dae-ho nearly chokes with how quick he stammers out a ‘yes’. inside his head he’s screaming it. you could do whatever you wanted to him, and he’d be grateful.

his cock is pulsing the instant your fingers glide over the outline through his pants. you dare to close your hand over him, and he catches your lips curl into a smile as his eyes flutter shut.

he opens them at the sound of your chair scraping closer to him. you’re close enough that your knee bumps his.

“you’re so big, dae.” you coo, leaning to level your face with his. his breath hitches.

you rub your hand steadily over his length. he can’t help the moan that escapes. you giggle at that, pleased.

you set an excruciatingly slow pace as your hand glided up and down. against his will, his hips jolt once or twice, desperate for friction. dae-ho whines an apology, but you just soothe him by caressing his cheek.

his eyes were trained on your mouth: how your lips were parted slightly as you palmed him, how you were close enough that your breaths mixed— he could so easily catch you in a kiss. but he didn’t want take advantage of you or anything. you’ve already been so generous to him.

like he’s thinking out loud, you softly ask: “do you want to kiss me?”

it’s probably no surprise since his gaze hadn’t shifted from your mouth. he nods meekly, slightly in disbelief as you lean forward to meet his lips with yours.

dae-ho’d pinch his leg to check that this is actually happening, if he wasn’t already practically melting in your touch.

he jumps at the warmth of your tongue sliding into his mouth. he’s almost too shocked to remember to kiss you back, but he does so fervently. he’s been aching for you.

he still feels embarrassment nipping at his neck that he even viewed his tutor in such a way, despite how you were now literally giving him a handjob through his pants.

you break the kiss, but not without a sweet peck as you pull away.

“you promise you’ll work hard for me after this?”

“i will.” his voice nearly cracks. after this, he’d worship the ground you walk on if you asked.

“that’s my good boy.” you smile. he could’ve came just from that.

dae-ho swears his mouth waters as he (shamelessly) watches you hike up your skirt, catching a flash of your panties as you stand.

you swing your legs over either side of his chair. pinching his chin, you guide dae-ho to look you in the eye.

but his barely stay open— his face contorting with a moan as you sink down onto his lap.

his dick’s digging right into your heat. he’s left shivering while you trail kisses down his neck. it’s an effort to not thrust up into you when you’re pressed against him like this: he doesn’t want to embarrass himself.

dae-ho steadies his shaking hands by meekly placing them on your hips. was it okay to touch you here?—

—and that thought was gone in an instant as you pulled dae-ho’s hands down to your ass.

his head was spinning. this was all so surreal. just last night, he was cursing himself for picturing you in all the ways that were happening now.

this time when you dive in to kiss him, he doesn’t hold back on parting your lips with his tongue. you encourage him with a rock of your hips, and he muffles a moan into your mouth.

dae-ho gained the confidence to snake his hands under your shirt. another grind against him was like permission granted to go further.

dae-ho was messy as he rutted with you. his hips stammered with their thrusts— he couldn’t keep up with your pace if he wanted to last.

he was sloppy with his mouth on yours, desperate to taste all of you. his hands had found themselves buried under your bra and fumbling with your tits.

it was all too much for him to handle at once. you ground down on his cock so perfectly, your rhythm unfaltering. pre-cum pooled at the front of his pants, and through the fabric he felt how damp you were as your cunt rubbed against him.

he couldn’t help the whines spilling into your mouth as you kissed him. you balled his loose hair into a fist and craned his head back. the tug on his scalp made his dick pulse, and the way you were looking at him with your mouth open and brows pinched— god, you were panting too— and fuck—

“w-wait! wait, i’m—”

knowing he was close, something flickered across your eyes. you latched onto his neck, and he cried out as you sucked a sensitive spot of skin.

dae-ho was foul-mouthed as he came: blabbering cusses between shameless moans, twitching up into you while you rode him through his orgasm.

his pants stained with warm ropes of cum. the sensation almost made him recoil, but you hummed into his ear pleased, gently rubbing his back.

dae-ho lolled his head onto your shoulder. you wiped the sweat from his forehead and placed a chaste kiss on his brow.

“let’s tidy ourselves up, then back to your study. okay?”

there was a laundry list of things he’d rather do with you than uni work. but if he doesn’t work well for you, he’s not sure he’ll get another chance.

dae-ho nods a bit too seriously, as if he’s following orders. it makes you chuckle.

“work well for me, and i’ll put it in my mouth next time.”

and he felt himself getting hard all over again.

[wellamarke]

11 across: Give one’s word, pledge (7)

for @cabinpressurechallenge Carolyn Month of May 2022 because time is fake and nothing is real except my feelings about these characters ok <3

Also on AO3

“Do you promise?”

Carolyn looks up from her accounts book, having already assumed Arthur had left the car. “I’m sorry?”

“You said… that whatever happened…”

She rewinds the conversation in her head. Oh, goodness. “Whatever happens, Arthur, I will be proud of you. For trying.” He’s still waiting, so she adds, trying not to sigh with it, “I promise.”

He nods. “Okay. Thanks, Mum.”

He still isn’t moving. Carolyn gives a significant nod in the direction of the building they’ve parked outside. “Well, go on then.”

She is not usually the type to offer reassurance and he isn’t usually the type to need it so openly, so sorely. On special occasions, though:

“You’ll be fine, Arthur. It’s only an interview. You’ve prepared really well — you can do this.”

He leans over to give her as much of a hug as is possible, sideways, in the front of a car, with Carolyn not particularly turning to receive it. She just about manages to join in before he’s pulling back and saying, “Thanks, Mum,” again, and this time, mercifully, he does actually get out of the car.

Despite herself, and despite the paperwork on her lap, Carolyn watches him all the way to the door, and even stays looking when it closes.

She had gone back and forth on this birthday present. Gordon had told her it was a ridiculous idea and that had played more of a part in her decision than she would like to admit. She couldn’t bear to hear him sneer — not about Arthur. She was first to admit that their son’s strengths were not the usual ones prized in the aviation industry — or in any ‘industry’ she was aware of, to be fair — but Gordon’s refusal to even think that he could succeed in anything infuriated her. So, she had phoned up Oxford Aviation Academy and booked the interview, ready to tell Arthur the date of it on his seventeenth birthday. And Gordon would see.

What, precisely, Gordon will see, she isn’t quite sure. There’s every chance she’s just created a worse situation — in the (sadly, rather likely) event that the Academy don’t take Arthur on, Gordon will gloat about it forever, or at least until Carolyn finally strangles him with a pillow.

But ultimately it’s not about Gordon, of course. It’s about Arthur actually trying for something, letting it play out, not just assuming that he’s incapable of even the first steps just because he’s, as Gordon puts it on a good day, a flaming galah.

Arthur quite likes the name, to be fair. He’s got a book on Australian birds and he was delighted to find that the galah is so pleasantly coloured and “fun-looking”. There’s even a little fact box that says, “Despite its name being used as an insult, the galah is a very intelligent bird!”, for which Carolyn could kiss writer Steve Parish, whose name she only remembers for this reason.

In any case. What happens inside the interview room is out of her hands now. They’ve done loads of practice runs, and one or two times — including this morning’s — she actually thinks he distinguished himself. A handful more were acceptable; some would have depended on a very kindly interview panel filling in the gaps, but would probably have been alright if they were having a dry year for intake, and the rest were… not hopeless, exactly, just… a little too ‘Arthur’ for the world outside their house.

Still. It’s not a foregone conclusion, by any means. She may yet have a pilot for a son.

Which she would value because it’s valuable to Arthur, not because it’s an easier thing to say to acquaintances than “Arthur… is still thinking about what he wants to do.”

Hmmm.

In any case. Back to the accounts book. Gordon’s expenses are curious this month. A three-digit sum she can’t seem to account for. He must have forgotten to give her a receipt or two. Well, the argument they’ll have about that sounds like it will be a lovely distraction from discussing Arthur’s interview this evening.

Arthur’s interview — how long has he been in there? She checks her watch. Barely five minutes. Goodness, she’s as bad as him.

By force of will, she keeps her mind on the accounts until they’re as balanced as they can be, without Gordon there to explain himself. Then she brings out her calendar and cross-checks the next fortnight’s worth of bookings. Nothing particularly interesting. If Arthur does end up taking his CPL, they might have a bit more leeway with longer flights, and not always rely on Gordon’s pal Tommo, who’s exactly as irritating as his name advertises. That’s a long way off, of course, but interesting to think about. She dares to imagine her husband and son actually bonding in the flight deck, Gordon finally seeing Arthur as an asset, a protogé, anything other than an accident of fate that happened to carry half his genes.

She congratulates herself on having taken almost twenty minutes to return to the subject of Arthur’s interview. He mightn’t be long now. She takes out her crossword puzzle book from her bag and flips to one she’s nearly finished.

11 across. Give one’s word, pledge. 7 letters.

Promise, she writes in the boxes, and rolls her eyes upon realising she’s now going to think about the last time she heard that word. Arthur, twenty-five minutes ago. Making her promise to be proud whatever happened.

It’s funny, because a lot of the time he can be quite perceptive, for all his bumbling, but he’s never really understood this simple fact about his mother: she is proud every time he breathes. Not because he lives up to all expectations but because he doesn’t.

Living with Gordon Shappey is trial enough. The idea of living with Gordon Shappey and a Gordon Shappey in training is unthinkable.

She returns to the crossword. By the time she turns the page to finish another almost-completed puzzle, it’s been thirty-one minutes and there is a figure standing in the open doorway of the Aviation Academy. All dressed up in his blazer and tie and… for some reason, not walking to the car.

She waves. He waves back. Then all of a sudden he’s hurtling towards her. She feels the vehicle shake a little as he all but leaps inside.

“Well then? How did it go?” she asks, unsure what the hesitance followed by the speed is supposed to be leading her to.

“It was — alright,” says Arthur, uncharacteristically careful with his words. “Although I don’t think I realised there would be loads of other people there.”

“Well, they took you into a room for your own interview, didn’t they?”

“That’s — yes, that’s what they were doing. We were all sitting in the hall and then the lady would come out and call someone’s name.”

“I see. And so what happened when she called your name?”

A silence. Carolyn feels a twinge of dread. Arthur is a terrible liar, always has been — and she’s not ungrateful for it. It does, however, mean she needs to put him out of his misery.

“Arthur,” she says. “You remember our conversation before? Whatever happens, I’m just proud that you went to the interview.”

To her horror, he buries his face in his hands.

“Arthur—oh, Arthur, don’t. Look, it doesn’t matter. Whatever they said in there — or didn’t say — there are plenty of other things you can do, other than being a pilot. Plenty. You could… you could help me with the passengers. Properly, not just on school holidays. We’ll train you up as a steward. You can have a uniform. A hat, even.”

She sighs.

“Arthur. Light of my life. I did mean it, you know. I am proud, still.”

His voice is small and quiet and full of shame.

“I didn’t go in to do the interview.”

“What?”

“So you can’t be proud. I didn’t go in.”

“But I— I saw you go inside.”

“Yes.” Finally he takes his hands away from his face, becomes easier to understand, if more difficult to look at, eyes rimmed red. “I went into the hall. But I… all the other people there… they looked like pilots already, Mum. Or… going-to-be-pilots. They looked like… like they knew what they were doing. And I realised that I just didn’t know at all what I was doing there. I can’t be a pilot. I can’t do it.”

“Oh, Arthur.”

“I’m sorry, Mum. I wasted your money. And my birthday present. Next year I don’t need anything.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Arthur. For one thing, your next birthday is eighteen, which is the important one. But never mind about that. You can’t really think I mind about the money? Not with you… being like this.”

“Money’s important, though.”

Not nearly as important as you, Carolyn thinks. Then, though it isn’t easy, says it out loud.

He drops his head onto her shoulder in response. Then:

“I should have just… gone in. Had a go. Now I’ll never know how it would have gone.”

“There’s no upper age limit, dear heart. I can book another.”

“No, don’t, Mum. I don’t think… I don’t think I can. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Do you know, Arthur, in a way this makes me prouder than ever.”

“You don’t have to fib to make me stop crying. I’ve stopped. It’s fine.”

“I’m not fibbing, so kindly don’t accuse me of such a thing. I am proud. Sometimes just walking out of a situation is the bravest thing of all.”

She deliberately does not look at her wedding ring. For good measure, she hides the hand that bears it on the other side of Arthur, so it’s truly out of sight. As a happy side effect, her arm is now around him. What a paragon of motherhood she is.

“Do we have to tell Dad?”

“No. I shouldn’t think he’s even remembered it’s today.” This morning, she’d been furious that he left without so much as a word of encouragement. Now, she’s rather pleased that Gordon’s self-absorption plays into their hands. “And if he does, we can honestly say the interview didn’t take place today.”

“What if he asks — when it is?”

“I’ll handle your father, Arthur. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.”

“Now — home, or… I couldn’t help but notice that we passed a crazy golf course on our way here…”

“Oh! Can we go to it?”

“I think that might be acceptable.”

“Brilliant!”

There he is. She can finally breathe properly again.

[merakiui]

the parasites won,,, so anyway here are my very silly and scrambled college au thoughts for alfred and matthew.

the idea here is that it's their first year of uni and they're both loser virgins. something something alfred who is all talk: "dude, i am so gonna get laid!!! body count through. the. ROOF!!!" guy who joins a frat probably,,, halfway through uni he swaps his glasses for contacts because he thinks it'll make him look hotter if he ditches the glasses. he works out and plays sports,, maybe for the love of the game but also because he has keep healthy between the fast food he's eating. but also it is cute to imagine a chubby alfred.........

matthew who is your typical wallflower. alfred drags him to parties and then immediately forgets about him, so he's just left to stand and,,, exist. ^^;;; in my mind he's an environmental sciences major. it just feels right to me for some reason. he's a really sweet, shy guy who is often overshadowed by his brother, so it catches him by surprise when you meet and you call him by his name. he almost thinks you're looking for alfred and when he asks that you give him a weird look. "uh, no? i'm looking for matthew. you are matthew, yeah?" WAAAAA be still, his heart!!!!!! orz orz

very silly but alfred and matthew rivalry for you maybe!!!! and the only reason you're sleeping with alfred is so you can hopefully get closer to the professor (england or france) since he knows them beyond the classroom and can probably do you a solid. you have big goals (to sleep with your professor). your first conversation with matthew probably went like:

"so what do you like most about professor kirkland/bonnefoy?"

"he's hot and i need him to plaster me to the wall. next question."

and he's just like, "oh... um, okay......." T_T

matthew who falls for you because you're one of the few people who actually sees him and doesn't mistake him for his loud-mouthed brother. spending time studying (discussing your strategy to seduce your professor and he listens LOL) at coffee shops, taking nature walks together, exploring the next city over if you're bored of your usual spots on campus, etc etc. you probably get high together. everyone thinks alfred is the cool brother who drinks and smokes and fools around (and he does when he's feeling up for it), but matthew has his secret sides, too!!! something something you get high and handsy and give him head and he understands immediately why alfred chases after this. you're like matthew's perfect wet dream come to life hehe.

with alfred, you're just fuck buddies. you party and drink together. play video games. make late-night fast food runs together. it's fun, but there's nothing else beyond that. but with matthew you're actually getting to know each other, spending time together as friends (and he hopes one day something more), and he's never dated anyone seriously before, so he thinks maybe he has a chance. for once, you like him for him and you're not just being nice because he's "alfred's brother." aaaa he's so happy. >w<

matthew with his big mushy-gushy crush on you,,, it does not help when alfred has you over and he can hear the two of you going at it late into the night. seeing you in the morning and you're wearing one of alfred's shirts and nothing else....... AAAAAAA he's running back to his room and covering his eyes. >_< too erotic,,, if you flirt with him, you might actually kill him. he's really so sweet. alfred will laugh and call him a nerd (as if he himself isn't a nerd, too), but really who's winning here? >:)

basically the plot here is that it's a very obscure square??? it's just sex and goofy fun and the occasional moment where you actually attend class in between it all. extrovert jock fratboy alfred x darling (purely fuck buddies...or is it??) but darling is salivating over professors kirkland/bonnefoy (the old man chaser ever). sweetheart introvert (with barely any presence) matthew x darling (genuine one-sided? romance is blossoming).

[auraisereigh]

"Regal"

chapter sixteen

Brennan Sorrengail x Riorson reader Blurb: Star prepares herself for her first meeting. wc: 8.1 ☆ SPOILERS FOR THE EMPYREAN SERIES. Uses pronouns: she/her. i use Star as a nickname as y/n sounds weird, and i'm awful with names.

Masterlist ☆ Dragon guide ☆ Star's story ☆ Empyrean guide ☆ Support me

It's not the flight that unsettled me. It's the fact that his dragon seems to take joy in my discomfort. Like I'm some clown in a circus.

Why does every dragon make fun of me?

"Are you okay?" I hear Brennan's soft voice behind me from where I'm sitting on the grass. "Yeah, just... Dragons seem to like making fun of me lately." My voice is sarcastic as I continue to slice my apple with a small dagger.

He chuckles softly and sits down next to me. "Seems like it. It's better that they make fun of you than that they eat you." He leans his head closer and a smile makes its way up to my face but I can't help but wonder if he can see the flush that has risen to my cheeks.

☆

I'm reminded all too well of bitter memories as we walk through the gorgeous halls. Viscount Tecarus Palace had always been beautiful, defenseless, sure, but beautiful. I've always envied Poromiel for that. They kept their culture, their art and what makes them unique.

I walk in between Felix and Brennan as we're being led by some gryphon fliers through the enormous halls. The last time I was here everything was still good, I was happy.

"Don't you need to wear a crown, princess?" I hear a familiar, deep, dark voice call out. I feel his presence behind me just as I've always had.

All three of us stop in our tracks. Felix and Brennan are a little further ahead.

I turn around and face Drake.

Drake Cordella.

"I'm not crowned yet." I say my voice comes out sharp yet there is a hint of sweetness.

I never had anything against Drake, he was polite, had a sharp tongue when he wanted to but I liked that. And he's not the serpent that is his cousin. We shared a bond based on mutual respect but also on competition. We were always striving to be better than the other.

I'm gonna assume that started after my father rejected Viscount Tecarus proposition to start a betrothal between Drake and I but if that was the reason he'd never tell me. If anything, we had never spoken about it.

"One day you will wear a crown." He states as he walks closer to where I'm standing. "Whether it's Tyrrendor's crown or Navarre depends on how much you want vengeance." His words catch me off guard for a split second. I had never thought about taking Navarre's crown. I didn't want a crown from a kingdom who lie to their own people, who refuse to stop weaving the blindfold to keep their people in the dark.

Does it intrigue me now? Taking a crown and removing the blindfold for everyone, so the people can see the truth their leadership has hidden them from?

Maybe.

I shake myself out of my thoughts. "I only have interest in what's best for my people. It's the reason why I'm here." I say smoothly. The sweetness dripping from my voice, showing him I have no interest in his games. It will only end up somewhere else. Places I rather not come anymore.

Like his bed. I shiver at the thought. Regrets are truly a bitch.

"Then shall we start this meeting?" I hear Tecarus voice from the other side and I turn my head to see him standing in the doorway that leads to the enormous dining room. "I believe it was quite urgent, was it?" I refrain from rolling my eyes at him, instead I look at Brennan, who's focused on Tecarus too. I walk to him, standing back in the middle of our little trio. "Viscount Tecarus. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Felix says and i roll my eyes at last. "The same goes for you, Felix Gerault. Miss Riorson spoke highly of you." He flashes his perfectly white teeth my way.

Sure, Felix is a great asset but I hadn't spoken all that much about Felix so Tecarus is just overexariating. Though I can't help but feel a wave of gratitude go through me that Felix actually joined me on this trip, it helped sooth my nerves.

"My dear," Tecarus motions at me with his hand. "Perhaps you and your company should change into more formal clothes." His voice sounds like he's offering but I know he isn't.

"We don't need to change." Brennan simply States and I wince as I look away from Tecarus. "Perhaps Miss Riorson should explain to you the rules of my meetings...oh my apologies, I'm afraid I don't know your name? Our dear never mentioned a third person to accompany." I can feel Tecarus sharp eyes on me. "It was a last minute decision." I sigh as a headache starts forming.

Tecarus gives me an acknowledging look. "Your name?" He asks again as he turns back to Brennan.

"Brennan, sir." He responds curtly. Tecarus tilts his head, I inspecting Brennan from head to toe and my heart beats out of fear. If he says that he's a Sorrengail then he's dead.

"Brennan...?" Tecarus inquires and I became more nervous with the second. I can see Brennan's hand fidget behind his back. He knows it too. If he speaks he's dead.

"Brennan Aisereigh." I speak up. "He comes from the family Aisereigh. He recently joined at Riorson house to help with strategies. It's his strong suit." I explain with a small smile, trying to appear as normal as possible, as confident as I can.

"Aisereigh?" Tecarus asks with a look that says he's thinking. "That's Tyrrish, is it not?" He looks between the both of us. "Yes." I smile. "Translated it means resurrected."

Brennan turns his head towards me, his eyes slightly widen and I give him a soft smile. Reassuring him.

"Very well. Drake will bring you all to your rooms." Tecarus announces and I rip my gaze from Brennan.

We start walking and I walk closer to Brennan, my arms grazing his as we follow Drake to our rooms.

Once we arrive I wait for Drake to leave and Felix to go his room, leaving Brennan and I alone.

Without saying anything I grab Brennan's hand and pull him gently in my room. I let go of his hand once inside and close the door and lean my back against it.

"Don't ever tell anyone you're a Sorrengail. They'll kill you." I whisper but the sound is clear in the empty room. A room that hasn't been used for at least two years.

"I won't." He answers. "Thank you. For out there, I didn't know what to say." He looks me straight in the eye as he says that and I can't help but be mesmerized by his amber eyes. I feel my heart beat faster but my nerves calm down. I blink and look away. "We should get dressed." I say quiet as I make my way to my old wardrobe. I can feel him follow behind me as I open the giant closet with various dresses, in many different colors and shades. All types of shapes and designs.

"So, you do have a crown?" He asks amused and I can't stop the smile that appears on my face. I don't answer him, instead I take my bag and open it, taking out a velvet bag. I open it and pull out a black crown with red stones. Dad had it made for me when it became official I would be the heir to Aretia. I had small input in the design, it were the colors I chose and the stones but still it looked gorgeous.

He whistles amusingly and I hand the crown to him. It doesn't feel special, not anymore. It doesn't even feel like I still have a throne.

"So your favorite color is red I take it?" He asks as he looks at the crown. "Yes, I suppose it has something to do with the fact that my magic is red." I simply reply as I turn back to the wardrobe.

☆

About twenty minutes later I'm almost complete dressed and finished. A servent had come by to give Brennan something to wear.

I look into the mirror, to the black dress I chose. It's a soft material with a heart shape neck line that follows my curves to my waist and from there on it flows freely. The build in corset has red strings attached to it. I slowly work my way down the corset behind my back, my arms exhausted with the effort. I'm almost all the way down when I hear his voice. "Do you want some help?" He asks as he appears in the mirror and I'm caught off guard by how good he looks, the suit they gave him looks like it was made for him, it's pitch black but somehow it's different from his leathers. He looks...handsome. truly, utterly handsome.

"Yes, please." I whisper and my hands claps together in front of me as his hands start on the strings, pulling them so it's tight but breathable. He makes quick work of tying the ends into knots. "Is it good? Too tight?" His voice comes out caring. "It's good. Thank you." I whisper again. Despite that this trip was mainly my idea, I had no clue how I was supposed to do this. I've never done it alone, I always had dad with me. Even if I have faith that Tecarus won't drop me it's still nerve wracking.

"You're gonna be okay." He whispers. "It doesn't feel right." I answer immediately. "Dad should be here, or my brother. I've never done this alone." I admit.

"You're not alone. I'm here. And so is Felix." His hand wraps around my wrist and he pulls me away from the mirror to face him. It's then that I see it. My crown.

He holds it with great care. While I had pushed the crown on top of all my things in a too small bag.

With his other hand he pushes some hair strands out of my face before he places the crown on top of my head. Ensuring it's secure.

"You look regal." His words catch me off guard. It's the way he says it, like he means it out of the depths of his heart. "Is it princess I should call you or duchess?" He asks as he braids a small pieces of hair and wraps it around the crown to ensure it stays in place.

"I'm not sure...everyone calls me princess but that's for someone who would become queen and Tyrrendor is not independent so I would become duchess if I were to be crowned." I explain with a frown. It was a good question, one I should probably discuss with the assembly.

"Is it okay if I call you princess?" My heart beats harder again. "You can call me Star too, whichever you prefer." He looks at me and stops mid braid. "I didn't want to come over heartless. I know it's what Naolin called you." He says as he continues the braid and wraps it around the crown bade just like the other side. "But it does fit you. You bring light when it feels like there is only darkness, even if you don't see it yourself." He holds his arm out for me to take.

I hook my arm in his and hold close as we walk to our door. Felix is already waiting on the other side and he grins when he sees us together but I don't let go of his arm.

"Shall we?" Felix asks and we both nod. Felix walks in front of us while Brennan and i follow behind.

Once I see the dinning room my tracks slow, my nerves kicking in and Brennan senses it too.

"Show them how regal you are, princess" Brennan speaks in Tyrrish as his hand moves to my lower back and pushes me forward.

"Perhaps I'll give you a small surprise later." He winks at me.

And a blush spreads across my face. One I can't hide and he knows it to if his grin is any indication.

He gives me one last soft look before he opens the door for me. "Go one little Star."

☆

Taglist: @honethatty12 @smashee0789 @awkardnerd @randomperson1234sblog @bangtanxberm @hyperactive-bookworm-0 @littowl @thebreadisthetruevillian @bwormie

[nethxibis]

Time to yap about another thing I loved in DAO and wished really badly it was brought back in Veilguard: origin stories! And I love it for several reasons.

The introduction to the game world is so much different depending on who you choose as your protagonist in DAO. Take Cousland vs. Surana origin. While the Couslands are presented as the good guys, they actually have elven servants, treated by their "superior" not much better than slaves. But then your hero is immediately treated with respect, if somewhat diluted by the fact that they are not allowed to join the fight by their father. Meanwhile, with Surana, you get a very quick introduction to demons, the fade, templars, the way mage circles work, etc. At the tower itself, you don't feel as if elves are treated that much worse, but that's because all mages are treated the same - not great. This immediately immerses you in your character and their role in the world, which is so, so important in RPGs.

You also get to understand your character's motivations better. If I just read an origin story card of "Ellissa Cousland is a child of the Teyrn of Highever. Her whole family got killed by Arl Howe, including her young nephew. She fled the attack with Duncan and joined the Grey Wardens. " I might go: "oh okay that sucks. " And then every time someone mentions Howe, I'd probably go: right, he's a bad guy. Meanwhile, after actually roleplaying those events, getting to know the Cousland family for an hour or two of irl time, hearing Howe's name left me actually angry. It made me remember the ambush and the little nephew and not only my character but I wanted revenge. Similarly, playing as Surana, I got to meet Jowan. And I got to help him because it seemed like allegations of blood magic were everywhere anyway and mostly untrue. Then imagine my feelings when I see him again, and he swears up and down he had nothing to do with a poisoning. But in this game that I personally played, I saw with my own two eyes how he swore he was not a blood mage and then used blood magic. Do I believe him now? It makes you care about those background characters in a different way. Not only have you read on an intro card that they are a killer or a liar, but you saw it, you lived it. It helps you connect with your protagonist on a whole new level.

This was one of the opportunities absolutely fumbled by Veilguard. I played so far only 2 origin stories in VG (LoF and Crow), and honestly... I don't remember half the details of what led my Rooks to be with Varric. An artefact heist gone wrong and messing up a bigger Crow operation is the gist. But how much more profound would it be if we got to play a short level based on those origin stories. Let me play my Crow Rook through a skirmish with the Antaam. Let me see them thinking they did a good job, maybe celebrating. Let me see Viago yelling at them for not thinking, for improvising. Let me hear him berate them and talk about consequences. Give me a short cutscene of the consequences, SHOW me the Antaam brutality. Later, when Rook helps Minrathous, Viago talking about them not thinking again, the words will cut twice as deep.

Codex entries in lore rich games are so important, BUT they have to be used properly to aid in storytelling and not hinder it instead. Games are such a great piece of media combining film and literature. Why wouldn't you use it to your advantage and show as much as possible. Leave codex entries for background setting stuff, historical events, and addressing past game lore.

[rapunzellovesbooks]

Okay, so, I am going to adress it once and then I am done with this topic.

I legit just woke up and my inbox was flooded with anons who want to know why I am not defending Nicola. I read about some „blind item“ and I honestly have no idea what they are talking about. I go to Instagram thinking Nicola has posted something, or Luke, nothing. I had to scroll through here to even understand what folks were saying cause, contrary to popular belief, I do have a life outside of this blog.

I dont follow DM or any gossip sites, first of all. I find them places were people willingly go lose braincells. I adds nothing to my life, it is unchecked bs most of the time and it has nothing to do really with the people I like and respect, other than using their names and lives for engagement. Nicola herself has said that DM is full of bs and I respect her opinion. The only reason I even heard of Nicola defending Luke on that TT was because someone posted it on here and I found that blind hilarious.

That is also my feeling with this one. It is a tale as old as time, I have talked so much about the whole „likes“ thing and the stupid beef rumours since I have been on here. That blind was legit just rehashing something I tbought we had put to rest but apparently we had not. No one actually needs to address it cause it is ridiculous but sites like DM use these opinions to fuel their engagement. No gossip site thrives on positivity. People want the scandal, the mess, not the tale of happy besties supporting each other.

Nicola likes Luke‘s posts as well as those of other cast members. Does she miss a few from everyone? Yes and you can literally go to the current cast members and see that. Easy, done, next.

Luke does not have to defend Nicola against that blind cause it is so stupid and old news, who gives a fuck. Nicola did not have to comment on that TT but she did cause it was so funny and so is she. She is also much more online than Luke. Hell, Luke probably has no clue what DM wrote or even who that is. It is not even worth it, it really is not. It was not worth me writing this whole thing but I dont like people saying I dont defend Nicola and only care about Luke, because that is not true and scrolling through ny blog will prove it but people dont want any facts anymore, it seems.

The idea that Nicola is using Luke for PR is so dumb because then, would she not be liking, commenting and reposting every one of his posts? I swear I feel like losing brain power with every sentence I write.

Case closed. Happy weekend.

[trickstarbrave]

Why do you dislike a lot of the Nord stuff?

argggg okay fine i will talk about it again. bc i am absolutely certain i have discussed it before

for starters, i am from a family that is at least partially norwegian. i have a norwegian prayer in the kitchen from my great-great grandmother who visited and brought it back. i worship norse gods, and because of this read a lot of history papers and academic sources (because a lot of people will just Fucking Lie about this shit) to get a better understanding of my gods and various other spirits and religious systems that would have been in place in antiquity, as well as tracking how these folk stories have evolved.

but the nords. the nords are just terrible pop culture vikings by and large. they barely resemble any actual norse people, but its very clear they are based on that. and there is a lot of Bad implications of it, as well as it just not making any fucking sense.

a lot of the shitty violent pop culture viking bullshit is based heavily on conan the barbarian. which is weird because conan is not norse at all. why he became conflated with viking shit is beyond me, but i am not an expert on pulp fiction novels or bad 80's fantasy movies. perhaps it is because of the connotations of "barbarian" being given to northern europeans by the greeks (and i believe romans). maybe he is conflated with vikings in the novels or movies. idk.

"well why does that even matter? can't people take inspiration from old fantasy stories and give it a new spin?" it is a problem because of a few reasons.

a lot of these mythologized, false tales of "the great white viking warriors of the superior aryan race" were made up by nazis. crafted whole cloth by white supremacists and used to further fuel white supremacy in nazi germany and commit all the violence in the name of white supremacy. thats why old futhark runes were co-opted by them. thats why white supremacists today keep an iron grip on this false belief and aesthetics. you cannot divorce the "fantasy" story from the fact this "fantasy" was originally created in the name of furthering white supremacy.

we get a double dose of racism in that the "barbarian" aesthetic is just a bunch of non white "tribal" clothes and customs and aesthetics all shoved into a blender, pureed, and then poured all over white people. with a heavy dash of violence added on top, because why not conflate all "barbaric" cultures with warmongering and violence. the only reason pop culture "vikings" are exalted for this violence is because they are white. but other cultures get conflated with a hyper specific northern european raiding culture, and then are treated with violence because of it.

also, i find this kind of militant violence to be frankly fucking stupid and makes no god damn sense. vikings were a specific profession that existed in a specific period of time. most norse people were farmers, fucking obviously. but with this conflation of purely war mongering barbarians with nothing else to their culture besides war and violence means you get the majority of their people being people dying in war.

who is growing food? making clothes? crafting weapons? raising animals? spinning thread? doing the wood working on all these boats and houses? these things are the backbones of society, but are treated as an unimportant after thought or given no acknowledgement whatsoever. instead everyone is obsessed with fucking dying in battle it seems.

the esteemed halls of the dead in norse mythos were not the pinnacle of honor people were expected to strive for, but instead stories told to grieving families who couldn't even bury their loved ones properly, as taking a dead body back across the sea in a boat wasn't really feasible. but now those stories have become equated to the goals in life the norse people had the same way christians want to go to heaven. the norse people weren't even a culture that focused on the afterlife all that much! it was more so concerned with living a good life for the sake of having a good life. the afterlife most people went to would just be a continuation of their life on earth. but again, there is one big nord afterlife in TES, based on valhalla, where people strive to go to after death so they can be ready to fight a big battle with shor at the end of time.

the nord lore and pantheon is likewise irritating to me because i keep getting the vibe they are trying to fit the norse pantheon and stories into a very christian framework. kirkbride's work slightly less so but its instead trying to put the norse pantheon in a different framework, one i don't fully know. but when you know most of the moving parts of old norse religion, you begin to see that its quite difficult to rip parts out and shove it into something else and have it all work right.

so basically i think the nords are a confusing amalgamation of pop culture nonsense, christianity, and bullshit that is seeped in real world racism regardless of how much people want to just. not think about it. it annoys me at best and royally pisses me off at worst. even today there are still white supremacists eating skyrim slop up and racist skyrim content used to further radicalize people to white supremacist ideology. this wasnt even intentional on bethesda's part, but that doesn't mean its not painfully obvious.

[farfromstrange]

Okay, I finally watched episode 3, and there’s a lot to talk about. I just woke up though, so this is as sorted as my thoughts are gonna get.

The tension in Matt’s face makes it so obvious that he’s struggling. I love how Charlie’s acting makes him expressive but also not in a way that shows Matt is barely holding on.

My interpretation is that he’s still reeling from what he did. Probably regretting it, but also probably not. He just can’t deal with the fact he did it because he wanted to be done with that part of his life. This way of living he has now is bound to explode in his face unless he starts to be honest with himself.

I also loved seeing Matt in the courtroom again. I love watching him be a lawyer and work within the system without being Daredevil, and seeing how heavy that weighs on him because it’s not enough.

Revealing Hector’s identity was a risk, and he often takes those. And it says a lot that he didn’t ask him beforehand. He put in the effort to make sure White Tiger wouldn’t be used in court, and then he goes and blindsides everyone. I think part of him thought because he stopped being Daredevil, it would be easy for Hector, too.

Side note: I think it’s iconic that he managed to piss the DA off for a second time and he’s still smug about it. Like, that’s my man!

What got me the most was when he talked to Hector about giving up the suit. Hector was listing all the reasons Matt used to have, all the things he gave up, and that blank look on his face showed that he’s trying so hard to push it away and pretend it’s not all that. When Matt told him that he wasn’t going to miss it as much as he thinks, you can’t tell me he was convinced. You can’t tell me he believes that.

We all know Matt is a hypocrite. It’s nothing new. He has never dealt with his problems in the way he should have, and that’s part of the reason why he acts the way he does.

Shoutout to Matt’s sassy ass when he called out Powell’s black eye on the stand. He’ll never stop being a hater, and I love that.

Fisk and Vanessa trying to fix their relationship is very entertaining considering the kind of people they are and what they’re trying to do now. She’s not happy without power, and he’s not happy that things aren’t always going his way. I think Vanessa found her calling as Queenpin. And Fisk will probably never outgrow that part of his character and will return to his old ways soon enough.

Fisk’s choice of journalist, by the way, is so ironic if we consider that he talked about how he knows that juries get it wrong. He killed BB’s uncle, and he did a lot of other awful things, so he was never falsely accused.

Matt cooking is my new favorite thing to watch. He needs a cooking show. And when he pulled out that Whiskey and mentioned Foggy, I think I died a little inside. Looking at his face I could tell the memory was just cutting him repeatedly like fiberglass.

I think it’s nice that Heather gave him time to talk about Foggy on his own terms. I wasn’t sure what to think about her at first, but she actually cares about him, and I think she’s good for him. Matt needs someone to take care of him. To be there for and with him, and hold his hand.

I am so excited for that corrupt police storyline, too, with all the Punisher symbols throughout the episode. It couldn’t be more on the nose, especially in today’s political climate. And I just know Frank is absolutely going to go off the fucking rails when he finds out that these people are using his name for a cause he would never stand for.

I am extremely sad about that ending though. I liked Hector. I know why they had to kill him off, but still. After everything Matt did, after everything he worked for, Hector getting shot in the head will be like a punch in the gut for him. And the shooter wearing a Punisher vest just puts the icing on the cake.

Hector made Matt remember Daredevil, and when Hector said White Tiger is who he is, he felt that. I think this case hitting so close to home is part of the reason why he acted the way he did. Because Matt didn’t want it to hit close to home.

I just think it’s going to fucking destroy him, knowing he revealed Hector’s identity in front of several corrupt NYPD officers, and then he gets shot. It’s going to destroy him to know he put in all that work and the man he tried to help ends up dying anyway. And that’s what I think will inevitably lead him to Frank.

[solargeist]

okay so i completely don't know what's up with the kid xelqua au... can i get a brief explanation... just so i know basically what's going on... (or direct me to a post that already has an explanation, that works too!)

oh man. Uhh… brief…. Xelqua is an alternative Watcher version of Grian from a different timeline, who turns into a kid, and Grian takes care of him.

Full explanation under the cut 😇

KidXelqua AU is a continuation of EvoAU.

EvoAU is my AU about Grian’s life in Evo and being manipulated into joining the Watchers, and the effects it’s had on him then and after. 

The Watchers were specifically like family to him.

In EvoAU, during season 8 of Hermitcraft, they open up a hole in the ground to the void, known as the boatem hole, just like canon. However, the void has an effect on Watchers, granting them their enchantments. This slowly, and unknowningly, starts to affect Grian, along with his sleep deprivation, and makes him paranoid.

This all happens late into s8, practically the end of it.

This introduces Xelqua, which is literally just a full Watcher Grian under a different name. 

Xelqua is basically a doomed timeline Grian, he has no home to return to, and he’s never known Hermitcraft. He has no friends nor family, so he spends his time traveling through the void. 

Somewhat similar to ~bill cipher, if you will, Xelqua destroyed his own timeline, so he’s forced into other timelines. This means his code is unstable. 

There’s a somewhat positive to this, Xelqua is chaotic and enjoys causing trouble, he’ll go into servers and wreck things before leaving. Mostly, he likes to find other versions of Grian and encourage troublemaking. Quietly dropping a weapon near Grian, and whatever happens, happens ! Xelqua likes to watch. 

So Xelqua finds Hermitcraft, the server seems to be unstable at the moment, the moon ? Not even Xelqua’s fault, he just got here! But he does notice the familiar energy from Grian, and it’s interesting, fun even. Xelqua listens to Grian’s paranoid rambles through Boatem, and watches plucked fathers gently float down into the darkness.

Typically, Xelqua wouldn’t do this, but he doesn’t often—if ever—meet other Watcher Grians, so he reaches up and drags Grian into the void with him, before possessing him.

Xelqua can only do this due to their codes being almost exactly alike. Real easy to puppet when the glove fits !!

Um. This part is a bit vague since I haven’t seen enough POVs for s8, lol, I know there’s a lot of lore going on, but !! Xelqua crawls out of the Boatem hole, and it’s actually not super fun piloting an exhausted sleep deprived Grian, his muscles feel like lead, his wings are itchy from the plucked feathers and lack of proper preening, and he has a raging headache. 

Xelqua can see the code structure of servers, he reaches out and tears away at it, breaking the firewall and protections X has on it. It looks a lot like barrier blocks or chunk borders from his perspective. 

This burns Grian’s hands, as he doesn’t have the talons that Watchers have.

This opens the server up to all sorts of trouble, Watchers take notice of the instability, on a server they didn’t even know existed ! Typically they’re watching every server.

A group of Watchers get involved, Xelqua is still fighting with Hermits, Xisuma shows up 15 minutes late with coffee to see his server collapsing on itself.

Xelqua, satisfied with the attention and destruction, (but mostly just tired), leaves Grian and flies back into the void, followed by a few Watchers.

The rest of the Watchers decide to shut the server down and force the players to leave. (Not like they had a choice Anyway, but watchers are strict and controlling.)

I don’t know if Grian’s original Watchers are involved in this or not—likely, because it’d be the only reason the others don’t just kill Grian right then and there or take him back to the void themselves. I won’t get into it here.

Anyway, whatever, leaving s8 goes as it does in canon, boatem crew travel through the void into their new server. Grian clings to Mumbo the entire time. (Prior to this, Mumbo was the only Hermit to know about Grian’s past.) (I mean besides Xisuma and Pearl, but more so.)

Grian explains himself to the Hermits when they’re all settled in s9, Xisuma helps. 

Grian also has a brief recovery period, his wings are damaged and unkept, his hands are burned, nails cracked, the exhaustion and body ache in general…. 

Obviously, Xelqua secretly follows them to season 9. But he doesn’t say or do anything for a long while, he’s content just watching the server, in between the code.

Eventually he does show himself to Grian again, but he’s quick to defend himself, saying he means no trouble this time !!! Promise !!!! He did raid Grian’s fridge though, oopsies. 

For a while, on and off, Xelqua hangs around Grian’s house—the weird wizard shoe looking one. Maybe sometimes The Entity. Xelqua is just curious abt Grian, he’s a Watcher too, and a Watcher that doesn’t currently hate him, so they’re practically family. Grian is tolerating him. They do talk though, Grian finds out who exactly Xelqua is, and it’s not hard to believe, they do look exactly alike in face and build, but it is weird anyway.

Like I mentioned earlier, Xelqua’s code is unstable, so one day Grian goes home and finds a little kid there, drinking juice out of his fridge. They startle each other. 

Grian is confused and immediately suspicious. He gets no actual answers from Xelqua beyond just his name.

Grian spends the next few days watching this kid, not fully believing this is an actual kid, he assumes Xelqua is tricking him or something. It’s a stressful few days, Grian doesn’t get much done running back and forth. He’s beginning to wonder if this kid is Xelqua’s kid, the kid denies this, but does say it’d be cool if true.

Grian is forced to tell Xisuma about this, and also admit that Xelqua is on the server again. Slowly Grian introduces the kid to other Hermits, since he doesn’t know how long he’ll have to watch him for, until Xelqua gets back, assumingly ? Grians incredibly stressed out abt this, he faults himself for s8, and it’s only been a few months, but he’s seemingly causing trouble for s9. He thinks he’s always causing trouble for Xisuma.

Kid Xelqua, just like the older one, is also in and out of the server. Online and offline, if you will. This is insanely scary the first time it happens. Grian just can’t find him anywhere, he may find him annoying, but still, it’s a kid, it’s scary. Grian contacts Xisuma again, and through ~game mechanics, checks to see if Xelqua is ~online. He’s not. Grian can only assume Xelqua is messing with him, and had left again.

Next time, when regular adult Xelqua is on the server, Grian confronts him, asking where the kid is, what happened, what does he want, etc. Xelqua has no idea what he’s talking about. Genuinely. 

Xelqua has an unstable code, and occasionally he switches into other versions of himself; there's only four but he takes on the personality and cognitive ability. The kid version is mentally, emotionally, and physically a child, he knows he’s a Watcher, but that’s it. The switch uuusually only happens off the server.

Grian learns and treats each version as their own. Since they all share the same name, I refer to the main one as the Saint, the kid is obviously The Kid, there’s an Evo version, and an extra uniformed Watcher one. They all have their own memories, feelings, and relationships. 

Xelqua has been compared to systems or age regression, he serves sorta as an analogy, but the AU revolves around healing and inner child. (Which, I support systems and age regression !)

SOOO !!!! THATS !!! Where Kid Xelqua comes from. It’s convoluted. 

Kid Xelqua still ages and grows, but depending on how poor the Saint’s mental state is, he might be smaller than usual, regressing almost. 

In general, Xelqua starts to view Grian as a brother, that’s how their dynamic is, but the kid starts to view him more like a dad. (Grian also starts to view the kid as his son, his special boy ! His joy !)

Originally, kid Xelqua was a one off thing for something irrelevant, I just became obsessed with it, and here I am a year later. Lol.

[quintessenceofdust88]

Wip Wednesday

I was tagged by my love @bidisasterevankinard and I'm technically working on a lot of stuff lol although this week I have not because I my actual work is super busy (which, rude, in my opinion). But anyway I did work a little on Little Blobs, so have some mpreg fluff:

“Well, let’s see if today your blobs wanna help us find out their gender” She says, and she sounds as excited as they feel. It makes Tommy feel good, knowing that this can be exciting even when you see it everyday. “Have you decided if you want to know?”

They exchange a look, just out of habit, because the decision has been made the night before, and then they nod at her. 

“We do”, Evan tells her. “To help us with the names if nothing else”

Dr. Yard smiles widely at them, and then positions the ultrasound wand over Evan’s bump, her eyes focused on the screen. Tommy feels as Evan squeezes his hands tighter, and Tommy himself is giddy with nerves of the best kind. He doesn’t have a preference, he just wants his babies to be healthy, and somehow that makes the moment even better. 

“So, may I ask what you were hoping for? Or no preferences?” Dr. Yard asks them cheekily, and Tommy can tell she already knows. 

“No preferences. I just want them to be healthy and happy.” He answers, and Evan gives a shrug. 

“For some reason, before I was pregnant, I always saw myself as a girl dad, but ever since I found out about them, I keep picturing myself being a boy dad, and I like that too. So I guess I don’t know, either way is good.”

“Well, you’re both a girl dad and a boy dad, Buck” The doctor tells him, and then turns the monitor so they can look at their babies. “You’re having one of each.”

Evan’s smile grows ridiculously large as he looks at him, and Tommy is sure he has the same expression in his own face. 

“Babe! One of each!” Evan exclaims, and his eyes are shiny with tears. 

Tommy presses a kiss to his forehead, and then leans against him, his eyes closed, a blissful feeling taking over his chest. Every time he thinks he couldn’t feel happier since Evan’s got pregnant, something new happens and proves him wrong. 

“One of each”, he marvels, pressing another kiss to his husband’s forehead, ridiculously grateful for him. “The best of both worlds, huh?”

“You got it. Take a look at them.”, Dr. Yard answers, and then she points at the screen. 

She was right at the start of the appointment; the blobs can no longer be accurately called that. Tommy looks at the screen, and he can clearly see two tiny babies in there. They scheduled one of those fancy 5d ones for a few weeks, and he already knows he’ll cry all the way through it. 

“Which one is which?” Evan asks eagerly.

“Okay, the one on the left is your boy, it looks like he’s sleeping”, she says, pointing to him on the screen. “And the one on the right is your girl”

Your boy and your girl. They’re feeling more real to Tommy with each passing week, and he can barely wait to have them in his arms. He and Evan stare at them in awe, completely silent for a few minutes, because this is it. It’s their family, their future, and it fills Tommy with inexplicable happiness. 

“Our babies, Tommy” Evan whispers, and Tommy can just nod, his eyes shining with unshed tears. 

“I know, sweetheart. I know” He whispers back, and they just look for a little longer, like they can’t get enough. 

Dr. Yard smiles at them, giving them a few more minutes of just looking at their babies. They are not moving around a lot (‘Of course they aren’t, they already had a party all night long’, Evan grumbles affectionately), and eventually, as much as they wish they could stay there looking at them all day, Evan has to clean up so they can finish up the appointment. 

“Man, I wish I knew who’s going to win Hen’s pool” Evan says as he puts on his T-shirt and his pink fuzzy cardigan that Tommy loves so much. 

“I think it’s Athena, she has a knack for stuff like this. Remember she was right about Kevin’s gender and his due date?” Tommy recalls, and Evan nods. 

Doctor Yard is smiling at the two of them, clearly amused by their conversation, and gestures for them to sit in front of her desk. 

“Ah, yes. Since we’re talking due date, we do need to have a discussion about your birth plan”, she says, and Tommy can see Evan tensing up.

Np tagging @laundryandtaxesworld @unhingedangstaddict @agentpeggycartering @dum-amo-vivo9 and whoever else would like to join! ♥

[bluu3berry]

Bird + Reaper!

This is not a ship child! More so a platonic gift :3 (coff I don't really partake in sansshipping anymore)

Their actual name is Deadbird, given by reaper. But goes by crow! Uses They/them!! Some lore and explanation towards them below!

Dont repost art

@anon-coke @scramble-eg @superbfirnacho

@phishyypawss @the-second-reason

Okay so Deadbird was a gift to bird sans by reaper! Using reaper and life Toriel magic, they made Crow for bird for a reason.

Bird sans lost his AU for almost the thousandths time and he was starting to give up, he was able with the help of other people leave, but still felt lonely and found it hard for himself to find friends.

He overall has gotten better mentally but was missing something.

Papyrus, he missed his papyrus. A lot, and it hurts to see the other senses happy hanging out with the other papyruses. Reaper spotted this, and alerted Toriel

(note I barely know the lore of powers of Toriel and reaper, these are headcanon)

With that Toriel gave life to crow with reapers help, however due to reaper touching grow at creation crows soul mixed with his magic, instead of being purely bird sanses magic it was his own.

He didn't care, and gave it to bird anyways...

Crow can't die. The touch of death already happened to them, so when bird soon passes crow will still be around... Right now crow is about the age of 10 :3!

Bird takes care of crow until he ends up ill and they find his heart has been slowly destoried to the point it can't hold is body anymore... at the age of 15 crow lost bird.

Crow info:

Cannot fly but uses wings for warmth and expression

Bird sans acts more like a brother figure then a dad, but fills both roles...

Crow absolutely sucks at art, and is still trying

Crow wants to learn how to fly like both of their parents but never can because of their wings.

Crow isn't a romantic or sexual child between, they're ment to be a platonic gift.

Crow does end up without bird as a father due to *cough* complications

Crow cannot stay around people for long or their soul will slowly rot and loose magic, because the dead part of crow still wants magic (like an atom wants to complete its outer shell) so. It trys and takes it but it never realizes it can't take it. It's just ripping the soul apart...

Crow and ink are very close, due to a few reason mainly over crows love for art.

Crow is autistic.

Crow can scream like a crow and likes walnuts!

CROW FUCKING HATES WORMS. EW!!!

[noneatnonedotcom]

demi xander au episode ideas

season 1, while xander has kept his name out of the papers for the most part it should be noted that he's been a vampire hunter for effectively 5 years and his curse of living in interesting times plus his stronger scent means that until buffy showed up he was the center of a lot of bullshit going on in sunnydale. for season 1 i'd probably have the revilation that xander's been fighting vamps since he was about ten be slowly revealed with willow and Giles doing the uncovering as they see some of the more mundane things he's done. recovering stolen items for museums tracking down thieves dealing with "violent gangs" it should paint the picture of a vet of dealing with vampires but still being limited in his abilities.

beyond that i think you'd get like 2 episodes extra focusing on the "tragic backstory TM" of xander perfectly normal human vampire hunter. with the mystery of what he was doing and why deaths pre buffy were so low being a background thing.

i'd also probably add in an episode showing xander's taking over buffy's "shift" so she has more time to hang with willow and be a normal teenaged girl. overall with xander hiding aspects of himself in season 1 it's more about the mystery surrounding him happening in the background.

season two

with the death of the master normal vampires are kinda missing, xander's going insane with peace and is starting to get twitchy. episode where xander is revealed to be sleeping with several older women in sunnydale buffy and willow are jealous for some strange reason except willow she knows why she's jealous. xander almost gets eaten by the mantis demon, but since he's not a virgin buffy and willow save him before he has to reveal his skills. Giles and Xander bond in a father son moment, something rare after the issue with the hyena spirit being fought off by him. Giles poor choice of words when trying to figure out how xander did that made xander worried Giles was going to dig too deep and decide xander was close enough to a demon. because Giles is under the impression that Xander was just a normal human child going though the whole vampire hunter thing they actually have a heart to heart about how difficult it was for both of them to be warriors when no one around them could really know.

xander is seen around town with a gaggle of preteen and younger girls. buffy and willow assume the worst but are even more confused when they find out that these kids he's been hanging around with are his "half siblings" and xander tells them that he's a bastard

xander's siblings really like buffy and willow and wanna get them hooked up, they might have used some love mojo and conspired to have xander actually dress nicely for once right when the girls come by. xander has to explain to the other demigods that he's trying to find people who like him independent of his divine blessings. they head back to camp half blood after this.

xander starts dating cordelia and it's right when buffy needed his support with the whole angel thing. angle keeps taunting buffy saying that xander isn't what she thinks he is.

while trying to get buffy's mind off of angel willow takes the group to the beach for a day, a little mini vacation that xander manages to get the okay for from Giles, by explaining that he can have some "co workers" keep things safe for a weekend. giles doesn't know that his co workers are kids of Ares who are spoiling for a fight and needed an enemy they could blow steam off on. but the news that a patrol of demigods is on the hunt keeps angelus and co laying low till the slayer comes back.

meanwhile at the beach buffy catches xander shirtless and realizes that while he's built like a greek god he's also more scars than skin. giles and willow tell their version of xander's backstory and we get an over the top story about normal vampire hunter xander in a gritty urban fantasy setting with neo noir vibes.

that's all i got for now. any suggestions for xander focused episodes or background plots? keep in mind my goal is to keep buffy as the main character, xander's just the goofy best friend who seems to have a history

@weatherman667 beyond ideas for episodes i never decided what greek or roman god would be after xander and causing problems for him in an attempt to make xander theirs. suggestions would be helpful :) @heliosthegriffin i know you haven't watched buffy but still let me know what you'd do for episodes

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Bits!

⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️

🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️(yayyyyy more mer-buck!!)

🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕

🏠🏠🏠🏠🏠

🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼

-💋

Thank you!!!!

15 for ⏲️:

---

“I’m just saying! It would fix it!” Ravi protests.

“And make this shift several hours longer than it needs to be?” Hen retorts. “No thank you.”

“Let’s keep all potential jinx words out of our vocabulary, please,” Bobby says.

Buck glances at Eddie, and Ravi wonders if he’s waiting for him to argue the existence of jinxes. It’s what he’d usually do. But he doesn’t. He just drops his gaze from Buck to his feet. Whoa. Who broke his spirit like this? What did Buck do? 

“Sorry, Cap,” Ravi mutters. 

The rest of the drive back to the station is silent.

---

15 for 🧜🏼‍♀️

---

Unfortunately for Probie and the whole team, he learns it on his first shift. Or, not his first shift.

“It’s actually my second shift,” he explains to the team. “I worked one last week with B-Shift.”

“Oh, yeah?” Buck asks, because he’s trying to be nice. “How was it?”

“Oh, you know,” Probie shrugs. “Pretty quiet.”

Buck’s brain goes white. Like a blizzard rolls through it. 

“WHOA!” Hen shouts. She and Buck physically back away from him. “Did he just say…”

---

15 for 🌕

---

Eddie frowns. Isn’t that obvious? He wants the dreams to stop.

“Uh, what do you mean?” Eddie asks. “These nightmares, episodes, whatever you want to call them… They’re very disruptive to my life.”

Dr. Truman nods. “So this is just about a better quality of sleep?”

“No,” Eddie shakes his head. “I mean, my sleep is actually fine. I don’t feel poorly rested.”

“Okay, then what?” Dr. Truman asks. “What is disrupted?”

---

15 for 🏠

---

“So, wait,” Karen smirks. “May, who is almost twenty-four years-old, required supervision from not one, but two, father figures, to walk next door, knock on the door, and ask for a lighter?”

Everyone looks at Bobby and Michael, waiting for any possible rational answer. 

“Well, yeah,” Bobby says. “We weren’t going to send her in there without knowing she’s safe from spontaneous kitchen fires.”

Athena sighs. 

“Whatever you two are up to, please drop it,” Athena says. “And leave May out of it. She’s too reasonable for this nonsense.”

Bobby and Michael look at each other. No way they’re going to drop it.

“You’re right, Athena,” Michael says. “Sorry about that.”

🏠

May walks through the front door a few minutes later. She’s holding the lighter.

---

15 for 🔀

---

Bobby nods. “Yes, Buck, I’m serious. But only if you… Only if that’s what you’d want, too.”

Buck takes a deep breath. He doesn’t quite believe it, honestly. That after all this mess and upheaval and knowing Buck is essentially just some magical farce, he would choose him? Give him his name? That’s no small gesture.

“You’d really give me your name?” Buck asks. Because despite Bobby’s assurances, he still can’t really process.

“Yes,” Bobby says again. “I’d like to.”

Wow.

---

15 for 🔼

---

“I’m doing this so I can come back, and stay.”

Shannon’s eyes are still hard on Buck. He knows the look. He’s been on the receiving end of it most of his life. Don’t make this about you. And right now, between Maddie and Eddie, he knows that that’s fair. Buck takes a deep breath. He needs to back his way out of the direction he started taking this conversation. 

“Man,” he says, settling on a new path. “You know they’re going to partner me with Ravi, right?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but smirks. “You can handle it.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll make do,” Buck agrees.

And he thinks it’s over. He really does. 

---