#after the person she evolved into by the end of the show

[cosmicqvake]

Hear me out here…

I don’t say this about a ton of characters but…

Melinda May would be worthy enough to lift Mjölnir (sorry, *Jonathan) by the end of AOS.

Think about it. THINK ABOUT IT.

[unpassive-viewer]

Watching breaking in the olympics has been awesome as a former hip hop dancer, but holy shit. For every person who doesn't know how breaking even works and doesn't think it's a sport, there's ten more who are excited about the men's competition, but absolutely ragging on the women's competitors. My head is actually spinning.

If you don't know about breaking, I need to explain some things:

The breakers all know one another already, and all respect each other. This includes between the m&f categories. Nicka (silver medalist - women's) and Phil Wizard (gold medalist - men's) have literally competed as a duo.

The breakers that you think "are better than everyone in the finals" already went through the qualifying trials. They also compete with all the medalists, they also tried out for the olympic teams. They did not make it.

To that end, every battle is its own battle. They may have done poorly in the qualifying trials, but have beaten the now-gold medalists in other competitions. It's not like swimming where Katy Ledecky will pummel everyone else in the race unless she has an exceptionally off day.

Related to point 2 - breaking was born in the Bronx. It was also born in the 1970s. Being mad that the demographics don't reflect who you think should be dancing, or being mad that the dance isn't "in touch with its roots" is like being mad that someone modified the recipe for ginger beef. Some of the guys who were competing today are old enough that they were dancing with the same people who invented the sport. I promise that they have crazy respect for how it began and all of its influences.

Related to point 3 - breaking requires originality. It is a foundational element of the sport to evolve and be creative. It's a sport, but it's also an art form.

Dancing for three rounds in three separate battles is a lot for any dancer. If you think some of them looked like shit toward the end (I disagree, but whatever) it's because they are tired. Not to mention there were heat warnings in Paris! They still have more athletic ability in their left pinky finger than I've ever had in my whole body - and I was someone who also did street dance!

The music wasn't decided ahead of time, but the DJs were playing very very popular breaking songs. All of the competitors already know how they go, so if they were scoring low in musicality, it's not because they panicked not knowing the song.

The athletes have sets made up already, they're not freestyling. They adapt them to the music, but unless they blank in the middle of the competition, they already know which skills they want to show off. (I'm editing to clarify that some of them did freestyle, but for the most part it was after they felt like they'd done what was going to get them points)

I really doubt that anyone on tumblr is going to care, but Instagram users can't read and YouTube is full of bots. I'm so excited that I got to watch my sport in the Olympics, but my lord people cannot behave.

[animatingforfun]

This was a pure joy to work on.

For the behind-the-scenes story of how I made this animated mini-short, click “keep reading” below.

I started this 6 weeks ago, just before Nintendo shut down its 3DS and WiiU servers. The server shutdown meant no more multi-player online play for 3DS games, like Mario Kart 7, but also no more uploading to the Butterfly Animation online gallery directly from the app.

As an homage to the Inchworm and Butterfly Animation apps for the DSi and 3DS that I’ve been animating on since 2011, I originally was just going to animate just a single shot featuring something butterfly related.

But the story evolved as I began asking myself a series of "what if" questions that I had fun answering, like, “what if it was a little girl playing dress up as a butterfly?” And then “what if she was first cosplaying as a caterpillar then the butterfly?” “If this is a story of growth, what if she stumbles? What is her attitude when she stumbles?” “What if the design of the girl was something like Isao Takahata or Yoichi Kotabe would draw?”

Making this was the embodiment of everything I hope to achieve with my personal animation: to let creativity flow and just have fun animating and creating.

Since this mini-short was animated on my Nintendo 3DS, there was a memory limit of only 100 drawings, which was a bit of a challenge for longer or complex actions, but was a fun puzzle to solve. Sometimes limitations force you to come up with even more creative solutions. (I was able the squeeze in more drawings than the memory allowed, and filled it to the max!) :)

The song I used is from Rebecca Sugar’s album, "Spiral Bound", and perfectly fit the theme of the short. Initially, while I was drawing the character, I found myself humming a tune from Steven Universe that dealt with beginnings, endings, and not being ready. It’s amazing how the brain can subconsciously pick the playlist!

In the end, that song, sung by Steven’s father in the show, didn’t quite fit, but then I remembered another song by Rebecca Sugar which was more on theme with my story, called “My Own Way to the End”. The whole album is wonderful! You can check it out here:

Painting the backgrounds for this was the most challenging thing for me, but also the most eye opening! After painting, I would look around at the trees in the neighborhood differently. So many colors when you really look closely.

There’s so many talented people at my work and it was great that I could ask them for advice. One person I asked was the talented Tia Kratter, who happened to teach a mini-painting class for the animators while I was working on this short. I asked her for advice on one of the background paintings and she asked great questions which challenged me to try different things, but I still felt like I was having fun and playing without fear of failure. I mean, it was still hard though! Hahaha!

If you’ve read up to this point, thank you for reading this. :) I hope you enjoy this mini-short as much as I enjoyed making it!

[magicalmanhattanproject]

man im just like. thinking about egg signs and how they've evolved over the course of the qsmp and how the qsmp has evolved over the course of the qsmp and just feeling so much love and affection for every part of the project. i dont have any grand overarching point with this just. like. here's a history of egg comms bc of the kind of person that i am

so wayyyy back ten months ago now at the start of the short and sweet egg event that was planned to last maybe a month at most, the eggs had their own custom, decorated signs!

[ID: Leo with a pink sign with an egg on the bottom corner that reads "hello" in all caps. Her nametag reads Leonardo. End ID]

They were extremely simple, single word signs. There was hello, hola, story, feed, sleep, and maybe one or two more and each was its own separate sign. The eggs could only communicate the most basic needs in words and everything else was through minecraft body language or just hoping their parents guessed right.

But obviously, there was a lot more that parents wanted to hear from their children. I'm not sure who was actually first, but the earliest departure from this system I know about is BadBoyHalo giving Dapper a simple oak sign so he could name his pet slime. (Screenshot from @/lxrd-ren)

[ID: Dapper wearing a diver's helmet standing next to a tiny slime in a boat with an oak sign reading "Bouncy (slmecicle but better)" End ID]

Parents quickly realized how much more convenient this was and pretty soon every single egg had stacks of signs to communicate with.

The next innovation came from Vegetta, who was the resident mod knower at the time. He knew about colored canvas signs and gave Leo signs in her favorite color purple because he loved her and gave her everything she wanted.

[ID: Leo's bed in her room under some Fooligetta fanart with a purple sign reading "<3" End ID]

Colored signs obviously had a lot of advantages. Being able to tell at a glance which egg placed which sign was a huge step forward in eggs being able to have long, complicated conversations as well as leaving obvious marks of their personality everywhere they went. It took a little while for them to be standard for every egg though. Bobby never stopped using oak signs even after Richas and Pomme both showed up with colored signs.

[ID: Two signs reading from right to left a red Pomme sign reading "we already started working on a guillotine factory" and a dark grey Dapper sign reading "thats the most french u have said so far pomme" End ID]

And this was the system for a while! And it worked pretty well for most people! The biggest struggle most people had was egg signs not being translated, but streamers adjusted to that by reading signs out loud so the translators would pick up on them. This also lead to adorable and fascinating dynamics like Richas swearing in signs he wrote for Bad and then warning Bad not to read them out. There was also the genuinely phenomenal development of Leolingo where Leo writes only in Spanish to Foolish because it's easier for her to write and he takes his time to puzzle his way through it and learn in a way that's super cool to watch someone else do onscreen.

Then Tubbo joined the server. And Tubbo himself had no problems at all with the system, but he is dyslexic and he casually mentioned offhand that it was getting kind of annoying to read signs after a ten hour long stream and the admin team Fucking Cooked.

Within 24 hours, they had TTS working on the signs. Within 48 hours, it was working on books too. I can't remember how long it took to get translation working, but it was definitely under a week.

And this opened up a whole new world of possibilities for the entire QSMP. The admin team has been on top of capitalizing on it for story purposes, but also just allowing the egg admins to speak in their native languages to everyone whenever they want has been so enriching for everyone involved. Leolingo is awesome but Foolish has been learning Spanish insanely fast and his process is a lot slower and more frustrating than most people can do in front of an audience of thousands of people without feeling discouraged. That's also one language. We've had everything from Foolish being able to check his work a bit more faster to Phil insisting on his eggs taking a day to speak to him in their native languages to Ramón writing a book for Fit in Cantonese, a language we haven't even seen on the server in any other context!

And all of it is fully understood and fully communicated! Sometimes the translators mess up but no one expects them to be perfect and people ask for clarification if the translator says something that doesn't sound right. It's not only a massive step forward in communication technology, but it's a great demonstration of how to use it and when you can and can't rely on it.

And finally, the most recent innovation! One of BBH's viewers sent him a dono saying they had trouble reading certain signs because they were too low-contrast. Bad, Richas, and Pomme just. Took it upon themselves to fix the problem right there and then. Based on One (1) bringing up their own personal struggle, those three came up with new signs that innovate tremendously on the originals.

[ID: Two separate images of the before and after. The first is the egg signs in their original colors with the corresponding egg's name written on them to demonstrate the font color and the second is in the new, higher contrast colors with the same text. The new signs also have custom decorations for each egg. The second picture also has two signs from Pomme in all caps that read "Send all the love to Richas he spent a whole night making this he's the best <3" End ID]

There are three main innovations visible in the above pictures

1: Obviously, the colors are higher contrast. The signs with white text have darker colors and the signs with black text have lighter colors.

2: The colors themselves are lower saturation. Richas said this made it easier for him personally to read them so he corrected that way, but that's open to change if it causes difficulties for more people than it helps

3: The decorations are for accessibility reasons! People with various different forms of colorblindness will find different sets of colors easier or harder to distinguish, but any of them can look at the decorations and use them to identify whose sign is whose instead.

But! Those innovations are not why I made this post! It's these ones!

[ID: The backs of the new signs when placed on the ground. Most visible are Chayanne's with vines and a hardcore heart, Sunny's with shining sunglasses, and Pomme's with an apple and the Eiffel Tower. End ID]

Richas added distinguishing marks to the backs of the signs too! This is something that Bad brought up specifically as something he wanted because it was hard for him to tell who was talking when he was using TTS from behind signs and couldn't see the colors at all.

We went from custom egg signs (a hotbar or so of words and nothing else to communicate with) through a long journey of expanding communication and expanding who we're bringing along on the communication and how easily they can join in and we've circled all the way back around to custom egg signs (they can say anything they want in any language they want and anyone will know it's them saying it from any angle)

and i guess i have enough feelings abotu that to write All This about it

[dubiousculturalartifact]

reading The Protector of the Small quartet again for the ????th time (could be as many as the twentieth or more tbh, they're sorta my top comfort reads) and my brain keeps being stuck on Wyldon's character this time around. like he's just FASCINATING. I've rarely read a character who is presented as such a complete fucking asshole who does such a 180 in my estimation in a way that's nuanced and COMPLETELY EARNED, while still staying the same fundamental person at the core, and still being allowed to be flawed. (because oh boy he is flawed) I rank him with Zuko in Top Fantasy Character Redemptions of All Time. I hate him. I love him. some thoughts from this read-through: -he's autistic. like he's just SO very autistic it almost hurts, and half of the reason Kel and him end up eventually understanding and respecting each other so well is exactly for this reason. he's so This Is the Way Things Should Be Done Because The Rules Say So and he is SO rigid and specific but also he EVOLVES and that's a fascinating dichotomy -this is also the SAME reason that Neal and him get along like oil on water, because they are both autistic but Opposite, it's like the personality equivalent of trying to get two hedgehogs to hug -that being said Lord Wyldon RESPECTS Neal in a really bizarre way, or at least understands him? He'd never admit that but that one moment in Lady Knight when he's explaining to Kel about why he picked her for Haven's commander, and he says that he CONSIDERED Neal FOR THE JOB? but said that he thought Neal was 'too fair' and essentially that he would simultaneously care too much and be too irreverent with the refugees, not be objective like Kel would be? again. fascinating. -Owen being Wyldon's squire is such a wild combination of personalities that ALSO should not work at all, because Owen is pure !!!! and Wyldon is like :/, but then my brain was like: oh. Owen is basically a over-excited puppy and Wyldon loves dogs -when Kel rescues Lalasa at the end of Page & passes out, then wakes up to Wyldon and her mum in the room and her mum is arguing with Wyldon about Kel's schedule and stuff. I somehow never really registered before that she FIRST NAMES HIM. She calls him Wyldon, not Lord Wyldon, and is comfortable enough to berate him. do they fucking KNOW EACH OTHER from when they were younger? WHAT IS THE STORY THERE? now I'm remembering when Wyldon got all surprised to hear the story of Illane fighting off the Scanran bandits and saving the sacred swords of the Yamani Islands. hm. interesting. much to consider.

-the bit where Wyldon is like OH SHIT the pages nearly got killed because tradition dictates I don't teach them actual battle strategy and tactics. and I fucking love tradition but I also love pages not being dead, so I guess I better get my shit together on that one.

-or when he QUITS as training master because he's like 'damn toxic masculinity fucked these kids up and I'm kinda partially to blame for that. I gotta get my shit together', and he's like the best thing that came out of being training master was having you as a page. and acknowledges he nearly fucked that up too? -while we're on the subject of 'what went through Wyldon's head' WHEN KEL RAN OFF TO SCANRA AND THEN CAME BACK HAVING BASICALLY WON THE WAR FOR THEM? AND HE WAS SO DISCOMBOBULATED HE ACCIDENTALLY AGREED WITH NEAL? -speaking of the end of Page earlier, i wanna read or possibly write a fic about what went through Wyldon's head when Kel didn't show up to the big examinations, because I think that's SUCH a turning point for his character. Like yes he respected Kel and let her stay before that, but the way he's so clearly kicking himself in the aftermath, going to far as to rope in Duke Turomot, and INVOKE THE GODDESS IN HIS PRAYER FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER.... what happened when he had to give the command to start the examinations without her? Like it really struck me that he must have thought 'oh. she gave up after all' and I think part of him might have been disappointed, and part of him *relieved* because he was still clinging to those old attitudes despite everything. And to find out he was wrong? That she hadn't given up, but had sacrificed everything she had worked for in the finest single demonstration of true chivalry and courage he had probably ever witnessed from a page? like damn. Lord Wyldon of Cavall you funky, fucked up man, I want to study you like a bug

[remlionheart]

Hello beautiful

Can I put in a request where Megumi and reader both have a partner but are fully attracted to each other and Megumi of course plays it stoic, indifferent etc. but then something happens( I haven’t figured out what event exactly, maybe they get drunk at a party?I’ll leave it up to you 🤍) and they succumb to their needs( a little coercion from Megumi oops) and Megumi is just so pussy drunk, whiny, non sensical blabbing mess and reader baby traps him 🥴🥴

I just need Megumi so bad, he plagues my mind every second of the day… I need therapy and Jesus. Thank you if u decide to go with it, love everything you do 🤍🤍🤍

Hi pretty ♡ Sorry to say - no Jesus here, but maybe this can be therapy for both of us bc I’ve been thinking about this ask heavily since I got it. And what better time to start a depraved lil drabble than at midnight on the night of a full moon? 🌙✨

((as always, all characters are aged up to 21+, if u don’t enjoy that feel free to scroll along ♡ all trigger warnings are in the request itself, lemme know whatcha think, luv u ✩࿐࿔ ))

⋆˙⟡MDNI ⋆˙⟡

Megumi’s new girlfriend was sweet, kind, cute. Always by his side no matter what and tonight was no exception.

She was smiling at you with her hand wrapped delicately over his arm, asking you how you’d met your date… who was also, at your side and wrapped around your arm. He was cluelessly bantering back and forth with her while you and Megumi exchanged the same pointed look.

It was subtle, the way his blue eyes lingered on your boyfriend’s hand placement, watching him gently squeeze your hip as he laughed at a joke that two of you had missed entirely.

You'd only been been dating this most recent fling for a few weeks - it was hardly anything to be jealous of, but the fact Megumi had noticed at all gave a sick part of you satisfaction. It was an unspoken rivalry you had with him, one that you typically found yourself on the losing end of. He’d fuck someone, so you would too. He’d date someone, so you would too. He’d show up to this stupid fucking party with a date, so you would too.

It was the same pitiful dance that you'd been doing for the last year and a half, your feelings for him always right on the tip of your tongue but never at the right time.

Watching his girlfriend rest her head on his shoulder as the four of you continued on with your mindless banter was your own personal hell and yet, you said nothing. Instead, mirroring them, clinging onto your own date harder as you pretended to care about whatever work story was being tossed around.

The night carried on like this for the next hour or so as the once small house party started to evolve into something rowdier. The music getting louder and the living room getting more and more crowded as you knocked back three more drinks.

You were dizzy, trying not to lose your balance while you excused yourself from your group to go venture upstairs in search of a bathroom. Your boyfriend had offered to come with you, but you insisted that you were alright, shooing him away with a smile as you told him to go get another drink.

He seemed to be enjoying himself and you didn’t want that to end just because of your pathetic urge to chase after someone who clearly didn’t want you back.

Your footsteps came to a clumsy pause, a small, drunken laugh escaping you as you entered the bathroom and caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your red dress was shorter than you remembered it being when you left, your hair just as perfectly disheveled as your thoughts. You steadied yourself before taking a seat, letting the music from downstairs provide you with a comfortable sense of privacy.

You had just washed your hands and were in the middle of throwing your hair into a bun when the door opened unexpectedly. Your ankle almost sprained from how quickly you’d whipped around, your heart stalling in your chest as Megumi looked back at you with the sound of the lock latching behind him.

“The hell are you doing, Fushiguro?”

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, his arms folding over his chest as he rested his back against the door. “Since when do you date coworkers?”

You almost laughed you were so stunned, your posture straightening a bit as you continued to keep your attention focused on your reflection and not on him. “Since when do you care who I date?”

“I don’t,” he shrugged, “just don’t want to hear you complain about it later when things don’t work out.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a stupid smile at how annoyingly apathetic he had to be at all times. “And you felt it was necessary to follow me into a bathroom to let me know that?” You countered, finally turning to face him.

It was the first time all night that you’d seen his stoic demeanor start to waver.

His eyes narrowed as he raised his brow at you, letting his arms fall back to his sides. “You’re drunk.” He quipped, taking a slow step towards you. “Just because your boyfriend’s careless enough to let you go running around by yourself doesn’t mean I am.”

Your throat was suddenly dry at how close he was to you, his tidal wave eyes flooding your senses as they dragged down to your lips.

“Your girlfriend’s downstairs.” You reminded him, desperately trying to ignore the heat that was gathering at your center.

“I know,” he breathed, his hand traveling up to the back of your neck as he held you in place. “But you’re right here.”

“Megumi…” Your voice nearly trembled, your insides catching fire at the feeling of his lips grazing yours. “We can’t…”

Your protest was hardly convincing though - not with the way your body was having its own private conversation with his. Practically begging to be touched as he wedged his knee between your thighs just to see how much temptation you could withstand.

He knew you wanted this. Knew that you thought about it just as much as he did, if not more. You’d always followed him around like a lost puppy. Always mirrored whatever he did like your intentions weren’t glaringly obvious. He’d been fighting to restrain himself for the last year and a half. Did everything he could to not succumb to the carnal urges that plagued him every time you showed up to his house in the shortest sundress he’d ever seen. He kept himself busy with other girls - lied to himself and pretended that it wasn’t you he was thinking about when he closed his eyes and thrusted into them. But you were everywhere, not just tonight and not just right now, but always. A constant thought in the back of his mind. A task he couldn’t ever mark as complete. A gnawing, agonizing, need that he couldn’t fight for one more fucking second.

“I’m so tired of it always being someone else,” he said against your lips, letting out a heady little exhale at how submissively you were staring back at him. “I want it to be you.”

The coiling tension in your lower abdomen felt like it was going to snap as the firmness of his knee pushed at just the right angle, giving your clit a much-needed brush of friction while his words swirled lazily through your mind.

He was right- you must’ve been drunk because there was no way he was prompting you to grind on him. No way that he was parting your lips with his tongue. No way that his grip was tangling into your hair as your hips began to rock rhythmically against him. No way that he was helping lift your bra over your head all while a mere staircase separated the two of you from your partners.

There was simply no way any of this was real.

His mouth was warm against your skin, kissing and nipping across your collarbone while his hand palmed at your chest. “S’fucking pretty,” he praised, his gaze pointed at the way your dress had nearly hiked all the way up your hips as you kept riding his leg.

“Show me what you do when you’re alone thinking about me,” he panted, “just like that, don't fucking stop.” His voice was sinful bliss trailing back up your neck, your dress now only covering your midsection as he pulled the straps of it down over your arms so that the top half met where the bottom half had ridden up.

You were dangerously - pathetically, close to cumming, not caring at all who heard you as your nails dug into his shoulder blade. Your needy little clit still pushing and pleading into his leg. “More,” you begged, “please - this isn’t - fair.”

“It’s not fair?” You hated the moan that slipped out at the sickeningly sweet way he mocked you. “Poor thing." His mouth was warm and torturous in the shell of your ear. "You know what I don't think is fair?"

The whimper you let out was all the answer he needed though.

His fingers wrapped delicately around your neck - an odd sense of security laced into them despite the way they were cutting off your oxygen. “I don’t think it’s fair that I have to want you this bad.” His other hand suddenly roaming along the curve of your hip. “I don’t think it’s fair that I have to pretend not to care when you do dumb shit like dangle new men in front of me.” His lips returned to yours, catching all the little whines that were escaping you. “And I really don’t think it’s fair how hard I’m about to fuck you while he’s downstairs waiting for you.”

It definitely wasn't the sentence that should've brought you to your breaking point, but it did. His grip tightened on you, fingertips digging perfectly into each side of your neck making your vision blur and your center ache. Your moans were every bit as broken as your thoughts, your eyes not leaving his while he nodded back at you.

"That's it." His grasp slowly began to release, loosening up with each whine you let out for him. "Cummin’ so easily for me.”

The room was still hazy, electricity dancing along your skin as he gently helped bring you to your feet before turning you around. You watched him from the reflection in the mirror, a dizzy smile cutting across your face while you watched him slip your dress all the way off and bend you over the counter.

"Fuck," he groaned, admiring the slick glistening off of you as he undid his belt. He ran two fingers between your folds, his mouth slightly dropping open at how sensitive you were to his touch - the cute little noises he could coax out of you by barely doing anything and the way your back arched so perfectly for him.

"Look at me," he breathed, placing a firm hand on your shoulder as he lined himself up with you.

His eyes trailed back up to yours, his tip carefully prodding at your entrance while he watched the desperate little expression that had taken over your features. "God damn," he hissed, his breath hitching in his throat at how faithfully your walls were swallowing him.

You were so wet, your brain and body both completely enamored with the sight and feeling of him sinking into you. The waiting game you'd been playing was well worth reward and you were enjoying every inch of your prize.

He was stretching you so tenderly, going deeper and deeper with each thrust. Though he'd told you to look at him, he seemed to be the one having a hard time maintaining your stare. His pretty blue eyes were glazed over, his composure starting to leave him the longer he looked at you.

"Oh my god," he groaned, "why do you feel so fucking good?"

His rhythm became harsher, both his hands grabbing onto your hips as he used you to his liking. “You know how many times I've thought about doing this, huh?" You weren't sure where your moans ended and his began, the rest of the world slipping away as he continued to blissfully bully his way into you. "Look at you, so pouty and pretty. Taking me like such a good girl."

His words made you clench, your cunt nearly suffocating him as he kept letting out more incoherent praises. He was just as lost as you were, just as dazed-out and unaware of his surroundings. The only thing keeping him grounding was the sound of you whimpering his name and how it kept getting needier and louder.

He wanted people to hear. Wanted everyone in the entire house knew that he had you bent over with your tits pressed against the counter and your ass flushed firmly against him. Wanted them to know that it was his name you sang out when you came.

“Megumi -” you whined, “right there, ohmygod, right.. the - re.”

Your walls spasmed around him, little hearts and stars suddenly filling your vision as your eyes rolled back. “Please,” you begged, chasing the blinding white light of your release as far as it would go, “cum inside me, please - fuck, don’t stop.”

He knew he shouldn’t. Knew you weren’t on birth control. Knew you well enough to know how desperate you were to keep him around. He knew all the risks. Knew what a terrible fucking idea it was and yet,

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he grunted, his movements just as needy and out of control as yours. “For me to fill you up,” he was losing himself to the thought, “to go back downstairs with me dripping down your leg? Yeah, I bet you fucking would.”

It was the worst idea. Every reasonable part of him screaming at for him to stop.

“Y - es! Please, please - ah~!”

But the sound of you begging made that reasonable part of him disappear entirely, replaced by an absolutely unhinged part of him that he didn’t even know existed until that very moment.

He wanted your belly to swell, wanted everyone to look at you and know that it was him who had bred you and that it was him who would do it again and again. He was going to make the whole world know you were his and it made him fucking feral.

He groaned, chest heaving as he gave you one last punishing thrust, burying himself as deep as he could as he twitched inside you. His breath hitching in his throat, his mind only filled with you and your body only filled with him.

A beautifully damning warmth coated your walls while you shot him the prettiest, haziest smile he’d ever seen. Both of you slowly returning back to reality.

He carefully pulled out of you, watching the mess the two of you had made spill out of you as he grabbed your shoulders and turned you around to face him.

His hands were warm against the sides of your neck, thumb placed firmly under your chin to tilt your head up towards his, “Next time you decide to shove another guy in my face,” he said, “you better make sure they’re not dumb enough to leave you alone with me.”

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

[rubyreduji]

The Christmas Boyfriend — yjh

summary: when you tell your mom the little white lie that you have a boyfriend, you don’t expect it to evolve into bringing your friend with benefits home for christmas. what can go wrong?

tags: fluff, smut (minors dni), fwb, fake dating, college!au warnings: ok the smut is likes less than 2k words of this fic tbh, conversations about birth control, mention of unsafe sex, explicit sex, oral, fingering, praise, cum eating, creampies wc: 12.7k an: guys im not used to writing jeonghan so if his characterization is off im so sorry fdsak anyways writing this made me want to go ice skating :((

“Sweetie! I’m so excited for you to come home for Christmas!” Your mom calls over the phone.

“Yeah Mom, me too,” you say with half sincerity.

“Oh and make sure you bring that cute boyfriend with you too! I want to meet him, you’ve told me almost nothing about him!”

You pause. Boyfriend? Boyfriend.

Oh shit.

“Hey Mom?” It was the end of summer and you were about to go back to university.

“Yes sweetie?” Your mom was bustling around the kitchen getting ready for dinner.

“Do you think that I could go on birth control?” These worlds made your mother stop.

“Birth control? Why do you need to go on birth control? I know your cycle is normal, so who are you having sex with? Oh please don’t tell me you’re sleeping around,” your mom huffed exasperatedly.

“I’m not!” Technically you weren’t sleeping around. You were sleeping with one person, repeatedly. “I have a boyfriend Mom, and we use protection, but it would be nice to have an extra layer of protection.” It was…somewhat the truth. You tried to use protection but every once in a while you…didn’t. You’d taken a lot of Plan B lately.

“A boyfriend! Why didn’t you tell me? Tell me all about him!” The problem is…you didn’t have a boyfriend. You had a Jeonghan who periodically fucked you during the school year. You hadn’t seen him all summer but you knew that as soon as the school year started again you guys would start right back up.

“His name is Jeonghan, he’s studying business. We’ve been dating since the beginning of the year.”

“Oh tell me more! I want to know, please. I have to meet him immediately.”

And that’s how you spent the rest of the day making up half-lies about Jeonghan and convincing your mother to let you on birth control.

You honestly forgot you told your mom that lie, and now it’s coming back to bite you in the butt. You hadn’t brought him up to your mom since and now you either have to tell her you guys broke up or you have to convince Jeonghan to spend part of winter break with your family pretending to be your boyfriend. Knowing your mom, the latter will be easier.

“You told your mom WHAT?” You decide to tell Jeonghan after you guys finish having sex.

“I told her…that we’re dating.”

“Why?”

“You came inside me two minutes ago, you really wanna ask why? She would be so upset if she knew I was in a friends with benefits situation but if I tell her I have a boyfriend that I trust and care for, she’ll let me go on birth control.”

“Why did you have to ask her to go on birth control?” Jeonghan asks as you start to get dressed.

“I’m a college student Jeonghan, birth control isn’t free and if I ask my mom I can put it on her insurance. C’mon can you do this one thing for me? My mom is a great cook and it only has to be for a little bit, only one day really!”

“This really means that much to you?”

“Yes.” You’re practically making puppy dog eyes at him now.

“Well, you know, I just so happen to need somewhere to stay during winter break. So…I guess I’ll be staying with you and putting on the best show for your mom. You’re lucky I think you’re cute.”

You just grin at him.

“Sweetie! You’re home! Honey come here, our daughter is home!” Your mom runs out of the house to greet you, scooping you up into a hug. “Oh, oh, is this him?” She glances over your shoulder excitedly to where Jeonghan is standing behind you by the car.

“Mom, this is Jeonghan…my boyfriend.” You have to force the last bit out. 

“Oh he’s so handsome! It’s nice to finally meet you Jeonghan, I’m so happy you’re joining us for the holidays.”

“Thank you for allowing me to stay with you.” Jeonghan accepts your mom’s hug.

“Of course! You’ve been dating my daughter for almost a year now, anything you need we’ll be here.”

“Is that them?” A booming voice comes from the house. You look over to see your dad and brother standing on the porch.

“Honey, come meet Jeonghan! Look how handsome he is!”

You sigh, it’s already going to be a long four weeks.

“I’m…sorry about them,” you tell Jeonghan when you’re finally alone in your room, where your mother insisted Jeonghan stay with you. For someone who disapproves of casual sex, she sure does support ‘healthy love making between couples’. You don’t even want to think about her and your dad.

“I can’t say you didn’t warn me,” Jeonghan chuckles. “They all seem really nice though.”

“They’re…something,” you mutter. “I hope you don’t mind sharing a bed. Once again I’m really sorry about my mom.”

“It’s fine, I’m serious, stop stressing out. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before,” he jokes. 

You roll your eyes. “That reminds me. We have to lay down some ground rules.”

“Ground rules?” Jeonghan cocks an eyebrow curiously, and a bit skeptical. 

“Yes. I know it sounds silly and cliche, but really, we need to talk about it.”

“I don’t know what the big deal is. We just have to pretend to be a couple, that’s not hard. Hugging, kissing, all that gooey stuff.”

“What if my parents ask about our relationship? Are you sure you’re okay being coupley with me all the time? I-”

“Babe,” Jeonghan starts, “stop worrying. You make it seem like you have zero faith in me. Trust me, I can be the best fake-boyfriend you’ll ever need.” You scrunch your nose up at him calling you ‘babe’ in a non-sexual setting, but you guess you’ll have to get used to it.

“Still…if you even want to back out, just tell me and we can make up some excuse for you having to leave or-”

Jeonghan cuts you off once more, “Stop worrying. It’s the holiday season, let’s have fun! If your parents ask about our relationship just leave it to me.”

You stare at Jeonghan unsure, all too familiar with his antics. You can tell Jeonghan is about to counter your look when all of a sudden your door is flung open.

“Mom said dinner is ready!” Your brother announces.

You admit defeat on having this conversation with Jeonghan, leading him downstairs to where everyone is taking their place around the dinner table. The table feels just slightly cramped with the addition of the chair added for Jeonghan squeezed in next to yours. The top of dinner is quiet besides a few “could you pass the salt” or “this tastes great Mom” thrown in. It isn’t until your dad is going in for seconds when your mom speaks up.

“So, Jeonghan, tell me about yourself. Pumpkin has barely told us anything about you.” 

You internally groan at the childhood nickname your family still insists on using for you, and you hope it goes unnoticed by Jeonghan. Unfortunately, not much slips past him.

“Pumpkin?”

“A terrible nickname from when I was little,” you explain, slightly glaring at your mother.

“I think it’s cute.” You so desperately want to smack the smug look off Jeonghan’s face.

“It is cute,” your mom interjects. “It’s based on these adorable photos we took during her first fall. We did a photoshoot and put her in a pumpkin, it was just darling. Remind me later and I’ll pull out the photobooks.” Your mom winks at Jeonghan and you’re starting to realize just how big of a mistake this was. “Now, back to what I was saying. Tell me about yourself, Jeonghan.”

“Well there’s not much to say. I’m a business major, I enjoy sports and spending time with my friends.”

“He’s an amazing singer,” you jut in. You’re not sure why. Maybe it’s because Jeonghan is selling himself short. “He’s a part of the University’s choir. And he models for the fashion students.” You can see Jeonghan blush under your praise.

“Aw, that’s nice. And how did you two meet?”

“We met through a mutual friend, and then ended up having a class together the following semester. First time we met I thought she was the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I’m just lucky she gave me the time of day.” Jeonghan makes a show of grabbing your hand in his, clasping them together on the table. Even though you know it’s for show, the display makes your stomach flip a bit.

You do take note that his story is true for the most part. At least the part about you two meeting and then sharing a class. You’re pretty sure the part about you being “the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen” is just fluff to appease your mom. It does the trick though, as your mom coos at Jeonghan’s words.

She continues to ask Jeonghan questions about himself and your relationship, and Jeonghan keeps delivering. He tells her stories about him attempting to flirt with you and you being too oblivious to realize. You roll your eyes the whole time, knowing what he’s actually talking about. The three weeks he spent continuously trying to hit on you before you finally agreed to go on a date with him. 

Speaking of the date, Jeonghan also tells that story. In real life what happened with Jeonghan invited you over to watch a movie, you both got a little tipsy, and ended up fucking right on his couch. Neither of you asked for a second date, but did start to booty call each other, so that’s something. The way Jeonghan tells it to your mom is a lot more…wholesome.

“We went out to see a movie, her choice of course.” Lie, Jeonghan forced you to watch The Notebook. “Then afterwards I didn’t want the date to end so we got dessert and went back to my apartment. We spent the whole night talking before she eventually fell asleep on my couch. It was adorable.”

“Oh stop,” you mutter, trying your best to sound playful.

“It’s true. The way your nose twitches when you’re dreaming and the little huffs you let out. How can I find that as anything but the cutest thing ever?” Jeonghan then leans in and presses a quick kiss to your warm cheeks.

You’re aware you do those things in your sleep, it’s something you’ve done ever since you were little, but you weren’t aware that Jeonghan knew about them. Everytime you sleep over at Jeonghan’s, or he spends the night at yours, he always complains in the morning about how you elbowed him in your sleep all night. 

“Oh you two are just so cute!” Your mom exclaims. She then turns to you, “How dare you keep him away from us for so long.”

Your brother is obviously doesn't care for the topic of conversation and excuses himself from the table. Your mom realizes that dinner is now officially over and she and your father start to clean up the table.

“Don’t go far, Jeonghan. I need to show you those baby pictures!”

“Noooo.” You tug on Jeonghan’s sleeve, like it might somehow convince him to go back upstairs with you, but of course not. Of course Jeonghan wants to see all of your baby photos.

You know this shouldn’t really bother you this much. Everyone has baby photos. The issue is you were an extremely unphotogenic baby. Your brother has maybe some of the cutest baby photos you’ve ever seen. Not you. You look like a gremlin, to the point your baby photos became a meme between you and your friends in high school.

Your mom makes a pot of coffee for all of you before she’s shuffling into the living room and pulling out the large fifty page photo album of you from newborn to age four. Jeonghan follows suit and you reluctantly take your place next to him on the couch. 

The first few pages aren’t bad. They’re all photos of you still in the hospital when you were first being held by your mom and dad, swaddled in a cute little pink blanket that you know your mom has stored somewhere up in the attic. 

The first bad photo doesn’t show up until a few pages in, after you were brought home. It’s a photo of you crying, your face all scrunched up in an ugly expression. You think it’s hideous but it’s one of your dad’s favorite baby photos of you. Jeonghan chuckles slightly and you shove him lightly.

Shortly after that the infamous pumpkin photo shows up. It’s you sitting in a pumpkin, a stupid, blank look on your face as you chew on the pumpkin. There’s a little orange beanie on your head that’s just a little too big for your head.

“Aww, look at that little pumpkin,” Jeonghan giggles.

“Shut up,” you grumble, glaring down at the picture.

Unfortunately for you, it only gets worse from there. There’s the photos from when you were two years old and constantly had messy hair and a stupid expression on your face. And then the photos of you at three when all you would do was pout at the camera. Then the photos from when you were four and somehow every photo was taken at just the wrong second.

Your mother and Jeonghan have a great time, cooing at each photo, your mother giving an anecdote every once in a while. It isn’t until near the end that Jeonghan finally looks over at you, on his other side. He smiles at the slight pout on your face.

“C’mon babe, stop pouting.” Jeonghan scoots closer to you, sliding his arm around your waist and pulling you into him. Even if it’s just for show, you can’t help but admit it is slightly comforting. Jeonghan then leans in and whispers to you. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You really are the cutest little baby. I mean that’s not a surprise, you’re still cute, aren’t you baby?”

Your face heats up at his words. You’re not sure why he’s laying it on so thick when you’re sure your mom can’t even hear him. You suddenly stand, trying to subtly get distance between you and your fake boyfriend.

“Well, it’s getting late and I’m tired after all of that traveling today. We’ll see you in the morning Mom.”

Jeonghan finally allows you to pull him back upstairs and into your room. You let out a deep sigh as soon as the door is closed and you move to start getting ready for bed.

“Are you okay?” Jeonghan asks you as he changes into his pajamas as well. “I didn’t make you uncomfortable or cross any boundaries did I?”

“No, no, you’re fine,” you assure him. “You’re just doing what any boyfriend would, so keep it up, actually.”

“Okay…” Jeonghan says, the skepticism in his voice. You don’t say anything else though and Jeonghan drops it, thankfully.

You both crawl into bed and you try not to think about how you can feel his body so close to yours. As you close your eyes you can’t help but think you’re not sure how you’re going to make it through the rest of the break.

“We’re going Christmas tree shopping today!” Your mom announces cheerfully when you and Jeonghan make your way downstairs for breakfast. 

“You guys haven’t gotten a tree yet?” You ask.

“We were waiting for you,” your mom explains. “So we could go as a family and then decorate it together.”

After breakfast your whole family piles into your dad’s car and you take off to the Christmas tree lot. There’s Christmas music playing on the radio as you drive and you can hear Jeonghan softly sing along.

You’ve always liked Jeonghan’s voice. You find his high, light voice angelic and you could listen to him sing all the time. You tune out the chatter of your parents in favor of listening to Jeonghan the whole ride there. A part of you is glad that only you can hear him, taking this as a moment for yourself. 

As soon as the car parks and you all climb out of the car, Jeonghan reaches over and grabs your hand in his. You look over at him to see him smiling at you and you smile back. There’s a bite in the air as you two walk through the trees and you appreciate the warmth of Jeonghan’s hand in yours.

“Oh, what a darling couple,” you hear an old couple whisper as they walk past you two. 

“Hear that? We look darling together, darling” Jeonghan jokes after they’re out of earshot. You roll your eyes but there’s a smile on your face as you playfully knock your elbow into Jeonghan’s side.

You and Jeonghan continue to walk around, looking at trees, until your father finds you two to tell you that your bother found the perfect tree. Your brother is bouncing around when you three make your way to the tree and he looks at you and Jeonghan proudly.

“Good choice, little man,” you tell him.

“Yeah, looks like a great tree,” Jeonghan agrees, which makes your brother smile even more.

Your family is standing in line to pay for the tree when your mom gasps. You look over at her to see her giddy face as she points up. You glance up to see the sprig of mistletoe places directly over you and Jeonghan’s heads.

“Well look at that,” Jeonghan says amused. “It looks like we have to kiss. By the laws of Christmas of course.”

“By the laws of Christmas?”

“Of course. I don’t want to end up on Santa’s naughty list,” Jeonghan teases you. You shake your head, smiling.

“If you say so.” You lean in and press a kiss to Jeonghan’s lips.

You’ve never actually kissed him outside of having sex, but it comes surprisingly natural to you. Jeonghan wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in closer for just a moment, before pulling away. The tip of his nose and ears are pink and there’s a slight twinkle in his eye and he grins at you.

“You have cooties now,” your little brother announces from beside you and you and Jeonghan both burst out laughing. 

On the ride back home, your whole family sings along to the radio, and your mother compliments Jeonghan’s voice, which makes him flustered.

After you get back home, your dad and Jeonghan struggle to get the tree to fit through the door as you and your mom snicker at them. After they finally get it into the living room, you, Jeonghan, and your brother get to work decorating it. When your brother asks why your parents aren’t helping, your dad says he did all the work by paying for it.

The three of you (mostly you and Jeonghan) spend way too much time untangling lights before you string them up, finally allowing you to get to the good part. Your family’s ornaments are stored in a large plastic tub and you get to work digging through them. You’re not sure how many your family owns, but you’re sure it’s enough to cover three trees in whole. The tub isn’t organized in any way and you do your best to pick and choose which ones you think will make the best decorations.

Jeonghan kneels down beside you and starts to look through the tub as well.

“These ornaments are cute,” Jeonghan comments as he picks up a small stuffed animal snowman with a loop attached to it. He reaches over to place it on the tree.

“Yeah, it’s a part of my grandparents’ gift to us every year. An ornament for both of us.” You pick up a decoration with a family picture on it and you hang it up.

“You were so small in that one,” Jeonghan says, referencing the picture you just added to the tree.

You glance over the photo. You’re maybe five or six, way before your brother was born. You’re squished between your parents on a bench with Christmas lights behind you. You’re bundled up in a puffy winter jacket and a hat is squashed into your head. It’s a sweet photo.

“You know, this is all quite unfair,” you tell him. “You’re going to have to show me your childhood photos at some point now.”

“Now I don’t know if that was part of the deal.”

“Well we might just have to make it so. I’d love to see tiny little Hannie.”

“Maybe I could strike up a deal…”

You’re about to make a comment on Jeonghan’s sneaky ways, when you feel a tap on your leg. You look down to see your brother standing next to you with a sled shaped ornament in his hand.

“I need help putting this on the tree.”

“I got you buddy.” Jeonghan moves over to pick your brother up, lifting him up so your brother can place the ornament on the tree.

The moment is oddly sweet and when Jeonghan lets him down, he gives your brother a high five after. Jeonghan walks back over to the tub before picking up an ornament. After closer inspection you realize that it’s the ornament shaped like a little bunny with a fluffy cotton tail and a pink scarf. You quickly lunge forward and snatch it out of his hands.

“Aish!”

“Sorry!” You exclaim, holding onto the ornament. “But you can’t place this on the tree.”

“Why not?”

“Because…,” you hesitate, suddenly embarrassed. 

“That’s her favorite, she has to place it on the tree every year. In its special spot,” you mom answers as she walks into the room, carrying a tray of cookies. 

Jeonghan just chuckles before leaning in to wrap his arms around your waist and kissing your cheek. You flush, trying not to think too much of it. It’s just because your mom is standing in the room. “That’s so cute. In its ‘special spot’?”

“Yes,” you mumble. You move out of Jeonghan’s grip to lift the ornament and place it at the top of the tree, right under where the star sits. The idea is more embarrassing now that Jeonghan is staring at you, the smug little grin on his face, but you can’t ignore tradition just because you know he’s going to make fun of you later.

“Are there any more special ornaments I should know about, darling?” Jeonghan asks and you smack him lightly, both for the comment and the teasing nickname he’s picked up.

“No. Decorate at your free will.”

Your brother is now more interested in the cookies your mom brought in, leaving you and Jeonghan to finish the tree off. It’s weighted down by all of the ornaments you’ve hung on it by the end. You reach down into the box to grab the tree topper.

“All that’s left is the star,” you announce.

“Jeonghan should put it on,” your mom suggests and you hold it out to him.

“Oh no, I couldn’t.”

“We insist,” your mom tells him. 

“C’mon Han, just do it, make her happy.” You nudge him a bit and Jeonghan finally takes it before reaching up on his tiptoes to place the star on top. You and your mom cheer and you can see the small smile on Jeonghan’s face.

With the finishing touch on the tree, you’re able to step back and look at your masterpiece.

“I think we did a pretty good job,” you say.

“I think we did the best job, and I should know. I’m a tree decorating veteran.” Jeonghan wraps an arm around your waist. You glance up at him, only to be surprised by him pecking you on the lips. You don’t even have time to react, the kiss smooth like you two do it all the time.

Jeonghan doesn’t bat an eye, turning back to stare at the tree. You feel your stomach flutter.

So here’s the thing. It’s not like you wouldn’t date Jeonghan, he’s a great guy, a close friend, but you two just never evolved into that part of your relationship. The issue when you’re hooking up with someone is that it’s intimate. You’ve spent the night at each other’s apartments, you share the same friends, you have strangely deep pillow talk with one another. It’s all under the same impression that you’re just friends with benefits, but now you’re here, in your childhood home, pretending to be a couple. The circumstances are completely different and now you don’t know how to feel.

All you know is that Jeonghan keeps kissing you with no sexual undertones under it, and maybe you like it a little too much.

When you wake up the next morning, Jeonghan is already awake on his phone. He looks over at you and snickers before turning his phone towards you. On his screen is a photo of you asleep, your mouth wide open and a bit of drool running down your cheek.

“Delete that!” You shout, suddenly wide awake. Jeonghan giggles as he stands up and runs out of the room. You chase after him, yelling at him, until you two make it to the kitchen.

“Well! You two are lively this morning,” your mom comments. She’s standing at the stove cooking breakfast with a fond grin on her face.

“Good morning!” Jeonghan says, a smug smile on his face as he slips his phone into his pocket. “That smells great. Do you need any help?” Jeonghan gestures to the plates sitting on the counter, waiting to be put out.

“Oh honey, no, no, you go sit. You’re a guest.” 

“Are you sure?” Jeonghan asks and your mom nods.

“Of course. Pumpkin, you can help me.”

Jeonghan moves to the dining table while your mom moves closer to you, a giddy look on her face, as she hands you the plates. 

“Pumpkin, you’ve really found yourself a keeper,” she whispers to you. “Jeonghan is such a sweet young man.”

“Uh, yeah mom, thanks,” you mutter.

It’s not like you don’t know Jeonghan’s a great guy, but the truth is you two aren’t dating. It’s not like you can tell your mom that, but you don’t know how long you’ll be able to keep up the lie after you two leave after break. It was easy when he was just a random name you threw out, but now your mom has actually met him, and he’s doing a little too well at charming her.

And maybe you too. It’s only been two days of pretending to fake date Jeonghan and somehow you’re already questioning your whole relationship with him. You don’t know if your heart will take fake dating him for any longer than you have to.

You and your mom head towards the table where Jeonghan sits next to your brother, looking invested in whatever your brother is talking about. You take your seat on the other side of Jeonghan as your mother sits across from you.

“So, any plans you two have for today?”

“Uhm, not at the moment,” you reply.

“You two should go ice skating! A new place opened downtown. I’m sure all the cute young couples are going there.”

You perk up at the idea. Ice skating has always been a fun winter tradition for you and now you have a reason to go. Right as the sun is starting to set, you and Jeonghan take off downtown. The city is dressed up in lights and it excites the child inside of you.

“Isn’t it pretty?” You ask Jeonghan as you walk down the street.

“Isn't what pretty?”

“The lights. Look at them. It really gets me in the Christmas mood,” you say. 

“Oh, yeah. They do look nice. Oh, there’s the skating rink.”

The rink is large and already filled with several people from other couples to families to people just skating solo. There are lights surrounding the rink and you can hear Christmas music playing out of speakers nearby.

You and Jeonghan go and rent your skates before putting them on and heading towards the ice. You slide onto the rink first and then wait for Jeonghan to follow. You watch as he steps out on the ice and moves to push himself forward, only to fall directly on his ass.

You stifle a laugh before reaching down to help him up. As soon as he’s back up Jeonghan moves over to hold onto the wall.

“Is this a bad time to tell you that I’m not very good at ice skating.”

You actually allow yourself to laugh out loud this time. “Why did you agree to come?”

“I don’t know, your mom seemed so excited about it and so did you.”

You smile before skating up to Jeonghan’s side. “That’s sweet of you Han, but we don’t have to continue if you don’t want to. We can just walk around downtown and look at the lights.”

“No, I want to do this,” Jeonghan states, determined.

“Okay, okay. At least let me help you out.” You move your hand to grasp Jeonghan’s and you start to move. Jeonghan gently lets go of the wall to follow you, his grip on your hand tight.

You skate effortlessly, trying not to giggle as Jeonghan does his best not to fall and pull you down with him. You’re skating much slower than you’re used to as Jeonghan clings to your arm.

“How are you so good at this,” Jeonghan whines as you two stop to take a break.

“Ice skating is a family tradition for me. Don’t worry, you look cute.” You reach up to straighten the fluffy hat on his head.

The moment feels oddly intimate, which is an interesting feeling considering you two have seen each other naked. It almost feels like you two are an actual couple, out on a cute Christmas-y date.

If you’re being honest, Christmas has always been your favorite holiday. You love the whole season and the feeling of family and joy and love. When you were little you always dreamed of having a great Christmas romance, and now you have it, it’s just…fake.

You look at Jeonghan to see the soft pink dusting his face and ears and you wonder if it’s because of the cold or if he’s thinking the same thing you are.

“Aww, you two are so cute.” The moment is broken and you look to the side to see an older couple skating up to you two. “Would you like us to take your photo?”

“Oh, um, sure!” You reply, pulling your phone out to hand to them. Your mom did tell you to take lots of photos.

You skate back over to Jeonghan and position yourself next to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. You two lean into each other, smiling at the camera. After that photo is taken you lean in to press a kiss to Jeonghan’s cheek.

The couple then returns your phone and bids you a goodbye. You flip through the photos and Jeonghan peeks over your shoulder at them.

“You should send those to me.”

You look at him curiously. In all the time you’ve known Jeonghan, you’ve never known him to care much about having photos of you two together, even as just friends, but you shoot them over to his number anyway. You then grab his hand again and continue to skate.

Even with Jeonghan’s poor skating skills, you two still have fun. The Christmas music sets the mood as you two skate around the rink and you can hear Jeonghan humming along as you skate. The moment is nice.

You two skate for about an hour before Jeonghan’s feet start to hurt and you two decide to put the skates up and pop into a nearby cafe to grab some hot chocolate before exploring downtown more. There is a tree put in the center of the plaza and you and Jeonghan take a few more photos to show your mom.

In the midst of hooking up with Jeonghan, sometimes it’s hard to remember you two are friends as well. You’re a bit glad for this whole fake dating thing, because it gives you a chance to hang out with Jeonghan in a non-sexual manner. It reminds you of how much you like Jeonghan as just a person and how you enjoy spending time with him. It’s really nice.

It’s late into the night when you two finally head back to your house. The lights are already all off and you and Jeonghan creep up to your room quietly, as to not wake up anyone else. You two quietly change into your pajamas before crawling into your bed.

There’s a slight chill in the room and you slide over to Jeonghan to try and get warmer. He accepts you into his arms and you two lay there in silence for a moment before he begins to speak.

“You know, I wasn’t sure about this at first, but I’ve been having a lot of fun. Your family’s great.”

“Yeah…they are. Thanks for doing this for me by the way.”

“I mean, it benefits me too, right,” Jeonghan chuckles.

Right. The reason you’re doing this in the first place: the birth control.

It’s weird to think about now that you’re here. Jeonghan has seemed to blend into your family so well, you nearly forgot the reason this started to begin with.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jeonghan asks.

“What? Oh yeah. I’m just…tired. I think I should try to sleep.”

“Yeah, okay…goodnight.”

When you wake up, Jeonghan is still asleep next to you, and you glance at the clock to see it’s strangely early. It’s then that you hear the tapping on your door and you stand up to crack it open. Your mom is standing on the other side of the door with a paper in her hand.

“Sweetie, sorry to wake you up, but I need you to do me a favor today.”

“What is it Mom? Is everything okay?”

“Oh yes, nothing wrong, but I need you to go out and buy these things for me.” She passes you the list and you scan over it before shooting your mom a look.

“You haven’t gotten the presents yet?” You hiss. “Christmas is in like four days!”

“I know! Me and your father haven’t had time to go with your brother around. Please? Here’s my card.” She passes you her credit card. “You can pick up some gifts for yourself as well. Bring Jeonghan along, get lunch, make a day out of it. Please, Pumpkin?”

“Yeah, sure, Mom. I’ll get it all.”

“Thank you!” Your mom hugs you quickly before leaving. You sigh, staring down at the list. There’s quite a few things on it. The closer you look at it you realize there’s also gifts for your extended family and your father on it. You huff, you have your work cut out for you. At least your mom has marked what store you can find each item.

You walk over to the bed and shake Jeonghan until he wakes up.

“Wha’?”

“Come up, get up. We have a long day of shopping ahead of us and I want to beat the crowds.”

Jeonghan grumbles a bit more but rolls out of bed. You two get dressed before climbing into your car and heading towards the store. You stop at a coffee shop to get both of you take out cups and head to the first store.

Your brother’s Christmas list is mainly toys, which you guess you can expect from a five year old. The toy store is already bustling with people and you grab a cart and Jeonghan’s hand so you don’t lose each other. You make your way through the aisles, doing your best to find everything on the list.

“What about this one?” Jeonghan asks, holding up a green race car. You frown.

“No. He doesn’t like that shade of green, and he already owns three green cars. He wants a purple one…aha! Here it is.” You grab the one on the back of the rack before throwing it into the cart. “Okay. I think there’s toy dinosaurs a few aisles down, and then we should have everything here.”

You two continue through the store before you find the aisle full of different dinosaur themed toys. You pick up a book for you to gift your little brother yourself and then look over the toys.

“He already owns a t-rex, a stegosaurus, and a triceratops,” you mutter more to yourself than Jeonghan. You glance through the toys before landing on a dinosaur with a long neck. “Brachiosaurus, perfect.”

You place this in the cart as well and then turn to Jeonghan, who is smiling at you. “You’re a good big sister, you know that?”

“I’m just doing what my mom asked me,” you tell him as you push the cart towards the check out.

“No I mean, you pay attention to him. You know what toys he already owns and what colors he likes. It’s sweet.”

You brush Jeonghan off again, but the words cause a warm feeling to bloom in your stomach. You two stand in the check out line for what feels like forever before you’re able to leave. As you two are walking to the car you look over at Jeonghan and realize he deserves something for Christmas as well. He’s spending the whole break with you and your family, it’s the least you can do.

“Oh shit, I forgot something. Here, take the car keys, I’ll be back in a flash, I promise.” You hand him the keys before running back into the store before Jeonghan can protest.

You weave through the people before making it to the Lego aisle. You’ve seen all of the models inside his apartment, and you figure this will be a good gift for him. You search through the different kits to find the best one, before settling on the electric guitar set. You’ve seen him play the bass a couple of times, and you hope Jeonghan will still appreciate the thought.

The line is a bit shorter this time and you make sure the box is well hidden in the bag before making your way back to the car. You store the bag in the back before slipping into the driver’s seat.

“You got everything you need?” Jeonghan asks and you smile and nod.

“Yep! On to the next place.” 

The next store is less exciting than being in a toy store and it seems to be even busier. You and Jeonghan hold hands once more as you walk through the store. His humming to the Christmas music on the speakers calms you a bit, and you allow yourself to enjoy the Christmas spirit more.

You and Jeonghan make it through the store, and another one before you decide it’s time for a lunch break. You two find a cute Italian place to sit down and rest your feet. You’re waiting for your food to arrive when your phone dings and you see an Instagram notification. You open your phone to see Jeonghan has tagged you in a post.

The first photo is the two of you at the skating rink, your arms wrapped around each other. There are a few more photos. A photo of you holding your hot chocolate while looking at the lights. The selfie you two took in front of the tree in the plaza. The final photo is a photo of you putting an ornament on your own tree at home. The post is captioned Christmas 🎄🎁☕.

“Our friends are going to think we’re crazy,” you tell Jeonghan. In theory, your friends know you and Jeonghan are sleeping together, but you’ve never explicitly said it, and they most definitely don’t know that Jeonghan is spending Christmas at your house.

“So? Let them. Those are cute photos.” You can’t argue with that and you drop a like and repost it to your story.

When you finish up lunch there’s one more store you two have to hit. There are only a few odd and end items left and you can’t wait to get home. You and Jeonghan are looking at sweaters when you feel someone bump into you and you lurch forward a bit.

“Watch it,” the man growls.

“Hey!” Jeonghan shouts, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you.

“What?” The man turns back around.

“You bumped into my girlfriend.” Despite this not being the moment to get flustered, hearing Jeonghan call you his girlfriend even without your family around sends butterflies into your tummy.

The man and Jeonghan have a stare down for a moment before the man huffs out a pathetic “sorry” before walking off. 

“Thanks Han,” you say before you place a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Well, some people just belong on the naughty-list,” he says, which makes you chuckle.

By late afternoon you two finally finish shopping and you get a text from your mom that tells you she’s taken your little brother to the grocery store so you and Jeonghan have time to get the gifts in the house without him seeing. You and Jeonghan quickly bring everything to your room before closing the door. You make sure to slip the present for Jeonghan under your bed before he notices and you then turn to him.

“Want to help me wrap these presents?”

“Of course.”

You and Jeonghan sit on the floor of your room, where Jeonghan soon finds out you’re awful at wrapping gifts.

“It’s so easy. It’s just folds and tape,” Jeonghan says as he places a piece of tape on the most perfectly wrapped present you’ve ever seen.

“Oh shush. I usually use gift bags okay? And now I have you, so you can wrap all of the presents from Santa, and I can do the rest,” you declare as you scribble a To: Mom onto the present you finished wrapping.

“Fine, but only because you’re the worst gift wrapping elf I’ve ever seen.”

Though you know it’s meant as an insult, you can’t help but smile at the cuteness of his sentence. You’re also just happy you don’t have to wrap more gifts than necessary.

It’s late when you wake up the next morning, due to the fact you went to bed late last night. You and Jeonghan stayed up to finish wrapping presents and then you two got onto talking about family Christmas tradition and before you knew it, it was two am. 

The bed is chilly and when you sit up to look, the other side of the bed is empty. You wrap a blanket around you and head downstairs to see Jeonghan and your mom sitting at the table talking. When you look out the window it’s a world of white and you start to feel giddy.

“It snowed!” You exclaim. “Hannie, we have to go play in it!”

You know it’s childish, but you can’t help it. You quickly get dressed and put on your winter coat and gloves before heading outside. A few minutes later, Jeonghan exits the house as well, your brother in tow. You search through your garage before you find your sleds and the three of you take a short walk to the park down the street. There’s a big hill next to it and you all take turns riding down it.

“C’mon, ride down together with me.” Jeonghan pats the space in between his legs on the sled and you climb on.

Jeonghan pushes off and then wraps his arms around your waist as you two go speeding down the hill. You can feel the snow fly back into your face and your sled goes tilting before you and Jeonghan are completely thrown off. You two land in a heap together and you both start giggling. You roll over in the snow and start to make a snow angel and Jeonghan does the same.

When you stand up and assess your work, you pull out your phone to snap a photo of the two angels next to each other. You’re just putting your phone away when you feel something cold and hard pelt you in the leg. You look over to see Jeonghan with a mischievous grin on his face, already aiming his next snow ball.

You quickly bend down to grab snow and form your own ammo, while also trying to dodge the onslaught of Jeonghan’s. You two go back and forth, throwing snow at each other, before Jeonghan finally ambushes you and grabs you by the waist and tackles you down into the snow.

You two are breathing heavily as Jeonghan hovers over you. There’s a twinkle in his eye and snow in his hair and you think that this might be the prettiest you’ve ever seen Jeonghan. You’re not sure what comes over you, but you reach up and grab him by the collar of his jacket, pulling him down to connect your lips to his.

Jeonghan melts into you, kissing you back. You two lay there in the snow, kissing, until you hear commotion next to you.

“Ewww.” You both pull apart to see your little brother standing over you two. You and Jeonghan both blush and Jeonghan climbs off of you before helping you up. “I’m getting cold, can we go back home now?”

Neither you nor Jeonghan make eye contact as you grab the sleds. Jeonghan gives your brother a piggyback on the way home when you get inside your brother pulls Jeonghan off to go play video games together. You’re grateful for the break, still a bit flustered from your intense kiss earlier.

You’re luckily able to ignore the boy for the most part for the rest of the day, until it’s time to go to bed. You and Jeonghan shuffle around each other awkwardly until you decide to finally bite the bullet.

“Hey, about the kiss earlier, I’m sorry. I-”

“No, it’s okay!” Jeonghan cuts you off. “Don’t worry I uh…I liked it.”

“O-oh, okay,” you mumble.

Neither of you say anything else as you two climb into bed. You’re not sure if you should move closer to Jeonghan until he reaches over to tug you towards him. You slot yourself into his arms, and you hope he can’t feel your heart beating a million beats per second.

You’re glad you didn’t make anything weird with Jeonghan, but now you’re afraid you may have made things a lot more complicated for yourself.

“You two are on cookie duty,” your mom tells you and Jeonghan as she bustles around the kitchen. She’s been stressed since you two woke up. You suppose that’s fair when it’s Christmas Eve, and it gives you a good reason to not think about you and Jeonghan.

“Can I help? I want to make cookies for Santa!” Your little brother exclaims.

“If you want to, buddy,” you tell him.

“Yay!”

“There’s a recipe book in the cupboard, and I should have picked up all of the ingredients the other day,” your mother continues.

“We’ve got it Mom, no stressing, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you Pumpkin.” Your mom kisses your cheek before running off to finish errands.

You clap your hands together. “Let’s get to baking.”

There’s several cookies your mom has requested you to make and you get to work on the dough for the chocolate chip cookies, while Jeonghan works on the sugar cookies. The chocolate chip cookies are fairly easy and you’re able to pop them into the oven while Jeonghan and your brother are cutting out shapes into the sugar cookies.

“This one is shaped as a snowflake,” your brother explains to Jeonghan as he stamps the dough.

“Ah, I see,” Jeonghan says and you grin. You work around them as you grab the flour to start making gingerbread.

Right as you’re walking past Jeonghan, he spins around, running into you and getting a cloud of flour all over both of you. You can hear your little brother giggling as Jeonghan huffs a laugh.

“You know, darling, this is pretty cliche,” Jeonghan says, still grinning.

“It would only be cliche if I smear frosting on the tip of your nose,” you tell him, continuing to walk past. “But, don’t count that out yet.” 

By the afternoon the house is warm and filled with the sweet scent of baked goods. The cookies are cooled and all three of you have already sneaked one or two for yourselves as you sit down to decorate. Your brother has been given the task of frosting the sugar cookies for Santa, while you and Jeonghan get to work building a gingerbread house.

“Look, not to brag, but I’ve come in second place every year for my family’s gingerbread house contest.”

“Second place? Why not first?” You snicker.

“Because my cousin is an architect, okay. It’s called an unfair advantage.”

You giggle once more. “If you say so, Hannie. Here, you can make the shingles with these.”

The two of you work in harmony, decorating the little house with all of the candy. When the house is finished you two move onto making the little gingerbread man.

“Look at little Hannie,” Jeonghan says, holding up the gingerbread man he just made. It’s decorated to look like Jeonghan, even done with his signature smirk.

“Very cute,” you tell him. “But your hair isn’t that long anymore.” You reach over and swipe some of the icing used to make his hair off of the cookie before reaching up to smear it on Jeonghan’s nose.

“Oh I see,” Jeonghan hums, doing his best to keep the grin off his face.

“I told you, don’t count it out yet.”

Before you can even stop him, Jeonghan is dipping into the bowl of frosting and swiping a streak over your cheek. You squeal as Jeonghan grins proudly. 

“There, now we’re even.” You fake pout at Jeonghan slightly and he playfully rolls his eyes before leaning in and kissing your cheek, right over the icing. When he pulls away, he’s licking his lips. “I’m sorry, but revenge just tastes so sweet, darling.”

It’s your turn to playfully roll your eyes now, not at all upset with Jeonghan’s antics.

You finish up your gingerbread self as well and place it next to Jeonghan’s in front of the house. Jeonghan pushes his towards yours even more, so their hands touch. “Look, they’re now holding hands.” 

“You’re so stupid,” you tell him, but you’re smiling.

“You like that I’m stupid,” Jeonghan teases.

“Maybe…but only a little bit,” you say, but it’s enough to make Jeonghan grin from ear to ear.

It's a Christmas tradition in your house to spend Christmas Eve watching everyone’s favorite Christmas movies, and this year your brother is actually able to make a suggestion. 

“Jeonghan, sweetie, you get to suggest a movie as well,” your mother tells him as she readies the hot chocolate.

“Really? I wouldn’t want to impose?”

“You should know by now you’re not imposing, and if anything, it’s Christmas Eve, you deserve to have some cheer as well. It will be nice to have something new in the lineup of movies.”

Your mom starts to pour the hot chocolate into mugs before sliding the reindeer shaped mug towards your brother. It’s his favorite cup to use, even when it’s not the Christmas season, though it was originally gifted to you.

“No Mom, let Jeonghan have it.” Your brother declares as he pushes the mug towards Jeonghan.

“For me? Thank you!”

You lean in towards Jeonghan. “He must really like you. He doesn’t even let me use that mug, and it belongs to me.”

After the hot chocolate and cookies have been passed out to everyone (and your brother has set some out for Santa), you all move into the living room. Your parents sit in their chairs and your little brother places himself on the floor right in front of the TV. You and Jeonghan move over to the couch where you naturally slot yourself into his arms, you two cuddling up together as you throw a blanket over your laps.

The first movie of the night is your brother’s choice, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. It’s a classic and you can’t be mad at the choice. The whole time Jeonghan keeps making jokes only loud enough for you to hear and you keep giggling, causing your brother to glare at you, causing you to elbow Jeonghan in his side.

“You better not distract me when we’re watching my movie,” you warn Jeonghan.

Jeonghan throws his hands up in fake surrender. “Oh darling I wouldn’t dare.”

Your favorite Christmas movie is A Charlie Brown Christmas and you make your family watch it every year. For you, it never gets old, and you watch it with what can only be described as stars in your eyes. You know Jeonghan finds it amusing, but you can’t help your love for all things Peanuts and something about that silly little Christmas tree brings you joy.

Instead of your parents choosing a movie, Jeonghan gets to choose this year, and you’re thankful you don’t have to watch your dad’s choice, A Christmas Story. Instead Jeonghan chooses the Jim Carey version of The Grinch, which makes you grin wide.

“That’s my second favorite Christmas movie. Did you know that?”

“Nope, I guess we just have great taste, darling.”

“Of course we do. I mean, we’re dating each other,” you flirt and you watch Jeonghan duck his head in embarrassment.

Jeonghan shifts his position so you’re sitting in between his legs, leaning back against him. His arms wrap around your waist as he rests his head on your shoulder. It’s cozy and your heart feels full at the moment.

You know none of it is real, that it’s all fake for something as trivial as birth control, but right now, you so desperately want it to be real. Enough that you’ll let yourself believe it is, even if it’s just for a moment.

It’s late when the movie is finished and your brother is doing his best to keep his eyes open.

“Hey little man, if you don’t go to bed soon, Santa won’t come,” you tell him as you pick him up in your arms.

“B-but Santa has to come,” he mutters in a sleepy voice.

“Well then let us put you to bed.” You carry your brother to his bedroom, Jeonghan following you behind.

“What if I can’t sleep? Is Santa still going to come?”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to sleep, buddy. Do you want us to read you a story?”

“Please?”

“Hey Han, there’s a copy of The Night Before Christmas in my room, could you go grab it?” You ask Jeonghan and he nods. He comes back a few minutes later, holding the book. He settles next to you on the bed and you hold the book open for your little brother to see.

You and Jeonghan take turns narrating the book until your little brother’s eyes droop down and he’s fast asleep. You and Jeonghan quietly sneak out of the room and slip into yours. Due to the presents being hidden in your room, it’s your turn to play Santa.

You and Jeonghan carry the presents to the living room before placing them under the tree. It looks picture perfect when you two are done. You and Jeonghan move over to the plate of cookies set out before both grabbing one and tapping them together.

“Cheers,” Jeonghan says.

“Cheers, to our success at playing Santa.” You both bite into your cookies, making sure to leave crumbs on the plate for your brother to see in the morning. You split the glass of milk, leaving a few drops at the bottom.

“Look.” Jeonghan points up and you catch sight of the spring of mistletoe. Your family has never been ones to do mistletoe and you wonder if your mom put it up this year just because she knew Jeonghan was going to be with you.

You’re surprised you didn’t see it earlier, but to be fair you haven’t been home much the past few days, and even when you have you haven’t been near the fireplace. 

Right then the clock in your house strikes midnight, and you lean in to kiss Jeonghan. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him, as you cup his face. You two kiss for what you’re sure is much longer than it needs to be before pulling away.

“Merry Christmas, Jeonghan.”

“Merry Christmas, darling.” 

“Santa! Santa, Santa, Santa! Santa was here!” You wake up to screaming and you barely have time to process what is happening when your bedroom door is flung open and there’s a tiny body attacking you and Jeonghan.

“Yeah, buddy, we know,” you mumble as Jeonghan yawns loudly. “We’ll be there in a second.”

“You better be.” With that your brother leaves and you and Jeonghan decide it’ll be best if you two make your way into the living room.

Your parents are both already in the living room, both of them looking tired as well. Your brother is eagerly sitting in front of the tree, inspecting each present as he waits for you and Jeonghan to shuffle over to the couch. Jeonghan sits down and you practically sit on his lap with how close you get to him, cuddling into his side, wishing you were still asleep.

“Merry Christmas! Say hi to the camera,” your dad says as he holds his phone up to record your little brother.

“Hi!” He says while waving enthusiastically. “Merry Christmas! Can I open my presents now?”

Your mom chuckles before telling him to do so.

You watch with half interest as your brother opens his presents, doing your best to wake up. Jeonghan is warm against you, though, and it makes you more sleepy. It isn’t until your brother is almost done opening his presents from Santa that you’re awake.

As soon as your dad has picked up all of the wrapping paper, you move towards the tree to open your own presents. It’s nothing much, as you really only asked for clothes and a few other things for your apartment. The life of a college student.

When you’ve thanked your parents for your presents you hand them their presents from you. You’re satisfied at the giddy your little brother has for the dinosaur book you got him and he gives you a giant hug.

“Pumpkin, what’s that present left under the tree?” Your mom points at the final present under the tree.

“It’s my present for Jeonghan,” you say as you pick it up and hand it to the boy.

“You got me something?” Jeonghan asks you, a bit of awe in his face.

“Of course.” You sit down next to him and press a kiss to his cheek. “I hope you like it.”

Jeonghan rips the wrapping paper off to reveal the Lego set underneath, and Jeonghan gasps. There’s an excited grin on his face as he looks between the box and you.

“You got me this?”

“Yeah, I noticed the sets in your room and thought you’d like this. I know you play the bass but-”

Jeonghan cuts you off by lunging forward and kissing you. You melt into him, reciprocating the kiss. When you pull back, there’s a twinkle in his eye. “Thank you, it’s perfect.”

“Oh, let me take a photo!” Your mom exclaims. “Go stand in front of the tree.”

You know there’s not fighting your mom and you pull Jeonghan over. You press your sides together, smiling at the camera. Your brother wants on as well so you two pick him up and hold him between you two.

“Aww, my babies, you guys look so cute! Okay, now who wants breakfast?”

You’re standing on your back porch, watching the snow fall, when you hear steps approaching. When you turn around you’re not surprised to see Jeonghan approaching you.

“You know, you didn’t have to get me anything for Christmas. Let alone a Lego set.”

You shrug. “I wanted to. You’re doing this for me, and I wanted to give you something to show my appreciation.”

“Well thank you. It means a lot to me.” Jeonghan moves closer to you and wraps his arms around you. You accept his hug, snuggling into his arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t have anything for you.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to. You just being here is enough.”

Jeonghan pulls away from you slightly, so he can look you in the eyes. You can see him struggling to say what he wants to, before he eventually just spits it out. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Is everything okay?”

“I…I’ve really enjoyed the past week, and it’s made me realize I need to be honest with you. I really like you, and I have since we first met. We had that first date which ended in us having sex, and when you never brought up a second date I kind of figured you just wanted to keep it on a physical level. I didn’t mind, but I guess I always kind of wanted it to be more,” Jeonghan admits. “And being here, and spending all this time together and not having sex, it kind of made me realize just how much I like you.” 

You can feel your heart beating in your chest as Jeonghan speaks. He likes you. Yoon Jeonghan likes you, and has had a crush on you since you first met. The notion makes your stomach erupt in butterflies.

You stare at him, his cheeks slightly pink from the cold and white snowflakes dotting his black hair. He looks like an angel.

“I understand if you don’t like me back, but I needed to tell you that. I’m not sure what this means for us but-”

It’s now your turn to cut Jeonghan off with a kiss. Your hold on him tightens as you pull him into you and Jeonghan eagerly accepts. He moves his hands to cup the back of your neck, holding you gently as he deepens the kiss. You’re both a little breathless when you pull apart and Jeonghan has a giant smile on his face.

“I like you too. A lot. And being here made me realize I want this to be real, if you do too.”

“Yes. I would love that.”

“Well then, I hate to inform you that I don’t think we can be fake dating anymore, as I have a very real boyfriend.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yes. And he’s very handsome and talented and a very good kisser.”

“Well it’s a good thing I also have a very real girlfriend, who is also a very good kisser.” Jeonghan’s face gets closer to yours as he talks before he leans in fully at the end, kissing you once more.

“Your father and I are going to go look at Christmas lights with your brother. Would you two like to join?” You mom pokes her head into your bedroom where you and Jeonghan are cuddled up on your bed, watching a movie.

You've been spending the day just enjoying each other's presence. You've also been answering sporadic texts from your friends, asking about you and Jeonghan after your Instagram post earlier.

You posted the photo of you kissing his cheek in the ice rink, the photos your mom took this morning, and a photo of your gingerbread men holding hands, captioned My favorite present this year ♡. Your friends have been hounding you about it since.

You glance at Jeonghan and down at your laptop before turning to your mom.

“I think we’ll just stay here,” you tell her.

She just smiles at you two. “Okay, have fun. We’ll probably be gone for a few hours.” Neither you nor Jeonghan miss the wink she sends you two.

You can hear the garage door open and close as your family leaves and you and Jeonghan both glance at each other. You’re not quite sure what the rules are on how long you should wait to have sex after becoming a couple, but then again, it’s not like you and Jeonghan haven’t fucked before.

“Do you want to-”

“You know just because we-”

You both stop talking when you realize the other one is. You gesture for Jeonghan to continue.

“Just because we’re now officially dating, doesn’t mean we can’t still have sex,” Jeonghan says. “Unless you want to wait.”

“No, I actually was going to ask if you uh, wanted to have sex.” You almost feel awkward, talking about it, like you two haven’t been hooking up on the regular for over a year.

You’re relieved of the uncomfortableness as soon as Jeonghan turns to kiss you. After a week of kissing for show, it’s nice to finally kiss him for yourself. As strange as it might be, it feels nice to kiss Jeonghan like this. Though you’re excited to see where dating Jeonghan takes you, hooking up is how you know him best.

Jeonghan moves your laptop off your laps and climbs on top of you, pressing you into the bed. Though you’re used to sleeping with Jeonghan, there’s still a new air to this. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jeonghan so eager to fuck you, but you can’t say you’re complaining at all. 

Your lips slide together, deepening the kiss, as Jeonghan’s hand ghosts your waist. You can feel his tongue swipe against your lips right as he starts to push his hand up under your shirt. You gasp when you feel his hand grope your tits and Jeonghan takes that moment to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You whimper as you feel his hand slide under your bra as well, his fingers playing with your nipples. His tongue explores the inside of your mouth and you suck on it slightly before pulling away all together. As you take a moment to catch your breath, Jeonghan moves down to suck at your neck.

“F-fuck, Hannie,” you whine.

“So pretty, darling,” Jeonghan mutters.

You push Jeonghan off of you slightly, so you can remove both your shirt and bra. With your chest now bare, Jeonghan takes the liberty of wrapping his lips around your nipple. He flicks the bud with his tongue, while his hand shows the other one some love. Your body arches up into his touch as you feel your cunt clench down around nothing, desperate to have him inside of you.

Jeonghan must realize this as well, and he pops his mouth off of you. “Want me to touch you, pretty girl?”

“Please,” you beg. You wiggle your hips a bit and Jeonghan chuckles as he hooks his fingers into your waistband and slides both your pajama pants and underwear off in one go. Like he’s on autopilot, Jeonghan reaches down and starts to rub at your clit with two fingers. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet already. Do you want my fingers or my mouth?”

“D-don’t care,” you mutter, already enjoying the pleasure of his fingers pressed against you. “Pick one. Both. Whatever. Just please, don’t stop touching me.”

You gasp a bit when Jeonghan pushes your legs apart even further, allowing himself to slip in between them. He leans down and starts to kiss your thighs, leaving small nips every once in a while. When it’s clear you’re too impatient for this, Jeonghan closes the gap between his mouth and your pussy, pressing a kiss to your entrance. From there, it only gets messier as Jeonghan darts his tongue out to lap at your arousal. He licks a thick strip along your slit, stopping at your clit so he can wrap his lips around it. You moan as you feel him suck on the bud.

His hands are holding on tight to your thighs, keeping them apart. His tongue swirls around your clit and you buck your hips up as your hands fly to grip onto the sheets. You’re sure you look pathetic, but you don’t care if it means you can get head this good.

His mouth switches between sucking your clit and licking at your entrance. You’re dripping slick now, even as Jeonghan licks it up. He buries his face between your thighs deeper, and you’re sure his face is a mess now. He drags his teeth against your sensitive clit and you whine loudly.

Jeonghan seems to be happy with his affect on you and he finally gives attention to how empty you feel. His finger rubs your slit for a second before he pushes it inside of you. You’re completely drenched and his finger glides in with ease, allowing him to slide a second one in not long after. 

His mouth is still working at your clit as he fucks a third finger into you. He thrusts them deeper each time, curling them back to hit the soft spot of your walls. It pays off to have someone know your body so well, and you can already feel your brain going fuzzy as Jeonghan knows all the right places to hit.

Your abs tighten as you can feel yourself approaching your orgasm. Your thighs clamp down around Jeonghan’s head as a warning, and then you’re shaking as you reach your high. You moan freely, your hands grasping at the sheets, as Jeonghan continues to work you through it.

When your body has calmed down, you sink into the bed, allowing yourself to rest for a moment. Jeonghan has finally come up for air, his whole face shiny with your arousal. You grab him a tissue and he wipes off his mouth and fingers.

“You’re turn,” you whisper as you push Jeonghan down onto the bed. He’s still completely dressed you and push his shirt up to kiss down his stomach before pulling down his pants and underwear like he did to you. 

His cock springs free, fully hard and leaking. You slot yourself between his legs and waist no time taking the tip in between your lips. You suck gently before working your way down his length. After doing this many times, you’ve had practice taking him, and you can completely get his whole cock down your throat.

Though Jeonghan isn’t very blessed in the girth department, his cock is the longest you’ve ever been with, being able to reach deep inside you and down your throat. You bob your head up and down, letting his tip hit the back of your throat, before you pop off his cock, wrapping your lips around the shaft as your hand fondles his balls.

Your tongue darts out so you can run it against his cock, swirling it around the rim of his tip. You can hear the stuttered breathing of Jeonghan above you, as you back to sucking at the head of his cock. His pre-cum coats your tongue, and you have to admit, the salty taste brings you joy.

“G-gonna cum,” Jeonghan mumbles before he’s spilling his load right into your mouth. You do your best to catch it all, but some still slips out and drips down your chin, which you think makes Jeonghan cum even harder. “Fuck, your mouth is so good.”

You pull your mouth off of Jeonghan, swallowing the rest of the cum in your mouth, and Jeonghan groans. You crawl back up to Jeonghan’s face, kissing him. If the fact you just had his dick in your mouth bothers Jeonghan, he doesn’t show it.

“Need you in me, Hannie,” you tell him.

“Okay baby,” Jeonghan responds. He flips you over, so you’re laying on your back. He removes his shirt, so you’re both completely naked, before leaning down to kiss you again.

You’re not sure how his cock is still hard, despite just cumming, but you can’t complain when you feel him rubbing his tip against your slit. His kiss deepens as he pushes inside of you, your walls clenching down to mold against his cock.

You try to relax, but he feels so good sliding into you. After a moment he’s fully inside of you, his tip pressed snug up against your cervix. Jeonghan slowly slides out of you before slamming back in. Your pussy is soaking wet and you’re sure Jeonghan’s cock is drenched, if the wet squelch was any indicator.

Jeonghan starts to slowly thrust in and out of you, building up his pace as he goes. Your thighs hug his hips as you wrap your legs around him and your fingers dig into his back. You can feel his mouth suck at your collarbone as he slams into you harder.

His cock reaches deep in you, the drag of his cock against your walls causing your brain to go even more incoherent. All you can think about is Jeonghan and his body against yours and his cock fucking you so good. There’s a reason you’ve let him hit with no strings attached for so long, it’s just even better now that you can fully call him yours.

“You feel so good around me,” Jeonghan mumbles into your neck. “Perfect fucking pussy.”

“Love your cock,” you mumble back. “So deep inside.”

“Fuck, need you to ride me.”

You and Jeonghan take a moment to reposition and then you’re bouncing in his lap. Your grip onto his shoulders tight for leverage as you fuck yourself on his cock. His cock hits as a new angle in this position and all you can do is moan like a bitch in heat. 

Jeonghan reaches down and grabs onto your ass, guiding you up and down his cock as he squeezes the flesh. Your tits are bouncing wildly in Jeonghan’s face and he leans forward, sucking one into his mouth. You throw your head back as your eyes flutter close, lost in your pleasure. 

Your thighs get tired at some point and you start to just grind against him, his cock curving up into you at just the right angle. Jeonghan can sense your neglected clit and he reaches down to start rubbing circles into it. Your cunt clenches down, and both you and Jeonghan can tell you’re about to cum soon.

“Need your cum, Hannie,” you tell him, your words slurring together. “Fill me up.”

“Anything for you, darling,” Jeonghan says, half delirious himself.

It only takes one final jerk of your clit to have you trembling around him. Your pussy walls fluttering against his cock as you fall forward against Jeonghan, your body twitching as you cum. You can feel Jeonghan’s cock throbbing inside of you as he cums as well, filling you full of his seed.

You both lay like that for a while, with Jeonghan still inside of you as you exchange soft kisses. When it’s clear you need to get up, you slowly lift yourself off of Jeonghan’s cock, and you can feel his cum slide out of you. 

“Fuck, we need to wash my sheets,” you mumble.

“Okay, but let’s cuddle for just a bit longer.” And well, you can’t say no to that.

“Oh, we hate to see you two go,” you mom says as Jeonghan finishes putting your things into your car. “Visit soon, okay? And bring Jeonghan as well.”

“Yes Mom, I will.” You lean in to hug her.

“Thank you for allowing me to stay with you guys over break,” Jeonghan tells your mom and she pulls him into a hug as well.

“Thank you for being such a good guest. And for being such a good boyfriend to our Pumpkin. Visit soon, okay sweetheart?”

“Of course.” Jeonghan smiles at your mom.

“Bye-bye!” Your little brother says as he hugs your leg. You reach down and pick him up so you and Jeonghan can hug him in between you two. You press a kiss to his cheek.

“Bye, buddy. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Seen you soon!” You let him down and he runs off.

“Text me as soon as you get to your apartment.”

“I will. Okay, we really have to go.”

“I love you,” your mom says as she kisses your cheek.

“I love you too.” 

“Okay bye Pumpkin, bye Jeonghan.” You both wave before climbing into the car.

As you take off you reach over and grab Jeonghan’s hand. 

“Well it seems this was a successful trip,” Jeonghan says.

“Very,” you agree.

You not only got a boyfriend, but now you don’t ever have to tell your mom you lied to her to get on birth control. It’s really a win-win situation in your eyes.

You glance over at Jeonghan to see him already staring back at you. Yeah, it truly is a win.

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[hypnagogics]

how soon is now? | part two

READ THIS FIRST 🇵🇸

previous chapter. series masterlist.

♡: hallway crush!ellie x uni student!reader

☆: the long-awaited second part of this godforsaken fic (lawd she’s given me trouble). appreciate y'all's patience as always, i'm a chronic procrastinator and perfectionist but what can i do. after this, i'm gonna take a break from this series. not saying i'll never write more, but wanna work on some other stuff for a while. thank you for reading! pretty please don’t hate me or show up at my house waving torches and pitchforks for this ending ok luv u gays in my phone. + a big thank you to @total-dxmure for helping me w/ some ideas for the last little bit!

♧:5.7k word count (lawd)

◇: sfw! miscommunication (sawry). fluffy moments, angst lowkey…both of yall cry at one point or another, reader has anxiety in the last chunk. modern au but joel isn’t alive in this, and they discuss it. maybe some rushed points here and there, i’m not really the proudest of this but needed to finish it anyway. potentially horrendous pacing but ok i think that’s all? idfk i may give y’all a little epilogue eventually, but don't dwell on it for the time being!

4 months later 

Your friendship with Ellie was evolving wonderfully. You two were studying together frequently, and both your grades in the ghastly astrophysics class increased exponentially. Although that wasn't the only thing that was increasing at a rate too fast to fathom. Your crush on her. It was ripping you apart like wildfire, Ellie was proving herself to be such a wonderful person inside and out, and you were slowly but surely nearing your limit of how much it could build before you burst. A movie spin off of the Savage Starlight series had come to streaming, and Ellie had invited you to her place for a movie night so you two could watch it and discuss if it was a faithful entry in your beloved series or not. 

Dressed in some comfortable pjs and armed with snacks of all kinds, your favorites as well as hers, the time had come and you were at her door. You straighten your posture and put your hair back in place, must look presentable, then knock, knock, knock.

You could hear some faint shuffling behind the door, then a few thudding steps until she opened it for you. She was dressed in an old, worn Nirvana tee, and red checkered pajama pants, damn she looked good, even when she was dressed with less effort than usual. 

Ellie looked so pleased to see you, leaning on the doorframe. Why did she have to look so good all the time? “Hi! I’m so glad you came, ooh this is gonna be so fun.” She invited you in and took the snacks from your arms and placed them inside her room. “Oh yeah, I also put up some decor too so we can get into the Savage Starlight spirit.” Her eyes were wide and twinkling and when she stepped aside to let you see, she really had made her room so welcoming and comfortable.  

The lights were all off save for LEDs around the room’s perimeter set to a dreamy violet hue, sparkly fairy lights draped around the frame of her bed which was set up so cozily. Her laptop propped up on a pillow, the sheets arranged in a nest-like formation with two spaces for each of you. She even had a few dinosaur stuffed animals placed in a row so they could watch too.

You were so flattered she'd do that and make the atmosphere so nice for the two of you, you could just tackle her in a hug and never let go.

The thing is you were scared she'd perceive that as weird and you didn't feel like dying of embarrassment, not today at the very least. Save that for another day, maybe. Oh, how you wanted to squeeze her so bad. Your imagination had to do for now. 

She was standing there so proud of how she arranged her room into a mini theater, and you beamed at her, silently thanking her for making it so dim so she couldn't see your flustered expression in full.

“Ellie this is amazing!!” “You like it?!? These stupid lights kept on falling off but since this is an important occasion for us both I didn't give up. All for our love, Daniela.” She manipulated her voice and waved in the air with two fists, closed her eyes and put her hand over her heart, just being as dorky as ever.

Oh gosh, hopefully it wasn't going to be awkward. Sure, the two of you had grown to be great friends, but were you that close to be just, relaxing in her bed together? As long as your imagination didn't run too wild and you didn't overthink anything, it was going to be a fun time. Just two pals watching their favorite series, nothing more, nothing less.

She threw herself in the mess of comforters with a grunt, and saw you were hesitating. She patted the empty space next to her so you'd join her and the movie night could begin. “C’mere, don't be shy.” Well, no shit you were going to be shy. Suck it up. 

You crawled in next to her, unable to look her in the eyes, while she got everything ready and rubbed her hands together excitedly. “Man, if they do our girl dirty, we’re gonna have to give someone a knuckle sandwich, you with me?” Her jokes and easy going vibes always made her so fun to be around, but unfortunately for you, you fell harder for her every time. “Yeah, Ellie. A knuckle sandwich for all of them.” You retorted with a chuckle. Once both of you were settled, she pressed play and so it began.

As the movie played, the two of you laughed and debated every plot twist, cursing the directors for not portraying your queen Daniela how she deserves, and snacked on candy until your stomachs hurt. It was going so well, the friendly hang out both of you needed after so many responsibilities in life. An escape. Occasionally sneaking peeks Ellie’s way, she was just so marvelously pretty. The shadows dancing on her features, illuminating her side profile perfectly, her long eyelashes and button nose, who wouldn't get lost in admiring her?

Of course you could never fully relax around her, or forget the crush no matter how hard you tried to push it down and just be friends. Every time she shifted next to you in the bed you felt your heart seize and the butterflies in your stomach turn into hornets. At this rate, they were going to turn into whole birds for fuck’s sake.

Nearing the end of the movie, the two of you were so invested, so captivated in the events, totally spellbound.

But then the film took a more emotional turn that wasn't in the comics. Daniela and her father had an absolutely vicious argument which left the two of you speechless watching it, which luckily got quickly resolved right after the two characters had a near-death experience together.

You weren't one to get emotional over silly, trivial things like fiction, but the way they showed this entire sequence was nothing short of heart-wrenching. You snatched up one of Ellie's patterned pillows and hugged it tightly to your chest, because cuddling her would have been much too bold for the likes of you. But what you’d give to do that instead.

Seems you were not the only one touched by the scene, as you began to hear some light sniffling from next to you. Looking over at Ellie made your heart break further into a million pieces. She looked lost in thought with thin lines of tears streaming down her plump, freckled cheeks. 

You froze for a moment, not knowing the limits of your relationship with her and how you could comfort her best. So you cleared your throat and mumbled, “That was so sad…” You watched as she avoided your gaze and wiped at her face with the collar of her t-shirt, “Yeah, this kind of stuff hits me, feels a little personal y’know.” She has never opened up to you about her struggles before, in the short time you’ve known and gotten close with Ellie, it always seemed like she was there to help you out, not the other way around. This could be your chance to show her that you are there for her as well, and that she can always count on you.

Being curious but at the same time not wishing to pry too much into her private affairs, you quietly asked with the most gentle tone of voice you could muster,” You don’t have to, but I’m here if you ever wanna talk about it, Ellie.” You watched her out of the corner of your eye, anticipating however she reacts.

She stayed quiet for a beat before sighing deeply, and whispered, “We were having a fun time, I really don't wanna be a burden.” Her voice quivered, heavy with emotion, what could possibly be troubling her this much? You wanted to take all her pain and bear it yourself, she didn't deserve any sort of misfortune ever.

“You can tell me, don’t worry about anything, okay? I just want you to be all good.” You were comforting her so smoothly, putting her needs and well-being first as if it was always second nature, as if you two have known each other many lifetimes over, two souls meant to float together through the journey of life. Well okay, that was probably a bit much.

There were a few more seconds of silence as you let the question ring in the air, not wanting to press and jeopardize your cherished friendship with her. 

You continue observing her, almost seeing the gears turning in her mind, the scales of reason tipping to one side then another, as she contemplates whether it’s worth spilling. Eventually, she does.

She roughly rubs her face then pauses the film playing on her laptop, sighs and huffs, before beginning to speak her story, all while looking away from you.

“Okay I don’t like to talk about this kind of stuff, but I trust you. A whole lot.” Your heart fluttered and face heated up at her comment, but you ignored it because there was something much more important on the table now. She continues, speaking quietly but quickly to get it over with. 

“So, when I was a kid, I was an orphan and to be honest I don’t really remember my early childhood much at all, but when I was 14 my adoptive dad, Joel, took me in. And it’s been just us since then.” She stops to take a breath, then resumes reluctantly. “And well, we’ve had a pretty rocky relationship for a good chunk of these years, I never knew how to express my gratitude to him, y’know, for basically saving my life, numerous times at that. He was always my rock, and I appreciate him every day. He taught me so many things, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t come around. I was pretty hard to deal with back then.” She reminisces with an exhale of air, and you see her eyes refill with tears. “But I’m really bad at expressing that, and will kinda, lash out I guess when I’m met with kindness or tricky situations.” 

You nod, listening patiently, and place your hand on her shoulder ever so gently, as a result making her raise her head to give you a small smile. 

Ellie chuckled deeply, it almost sounded forced, then started to slowly wrap up her story. “And it seems that scene kinda hit me, because the wounds are still raw, or whatever.” 

She sniffles again but doesn't respond, so you delicately inquire, “What do you mean?”

“He died last year.” Oof.

“Oh my, Ellie, I’m so sorry, are you-” She interrupts your condolences. “No need for that, I’m fine. Well, taking it day by day y’know. In the beginning it was really tough, I was angry at everything but most at myself for being such a jerk, and now I can't turn back time and tell him all I wanted to.” While you take a moment to think about what to say, she hums to herself and remarks, “That actually felt good to get off my chest, I haven't told anyone about it.” She lowers her voice so it’s barely a whisper. “Didn't have who to tell.”

“Sure you're okay? I'm always here for you.” You find your voice back to soothe her some more, to which she smiles at you again, only this time it actually seems genuine. There's definitely a lot of pain behind it, but the relief that she doesn't have to deal with the burden alone was evident on her face. 

“Yeah, thanks. I guess I hadn’t processed anything, and that part of the movie made it all come out, damn I hate emotions sometimes. But I appreciate you being here for me. You're really easy to talk to, and I feel better now.” 

And you would've never in a trillion years anticipated what her next move was going to be, you were so caught off guard, the realization lagged and it didn't immediately register. 

She moved to sit on her knees in front of you, then threw her arms around your torso in a tight embrace. She hugged you. Clutched you so firmly against her own body, her strong hands landing in the middle of your back, where she rubbed in a circle. She smelled so nice, and was as warm as one of her heated stuffed animals. 

Due to the surprising nature of the motion you let out a dumbfounded gasp, then returned the hug allowing yourself to rest your head on her shoulder. You wanted to stay like this forever, until the end of time, it felt nicer than you could've ever imagined.

The thought crossed your mind that she could feel the buzz pulsating through your body, you swore your heart was slamming against your ribcage so hard it was going to grow wings and simply fly right out of your chest, and join hands with hers.

While you were occupied with the way she felt against you, so close like this, chest against chest, and how your cheeks blazed with an inferno hotter than a thousand suns, you heard her grumble against your ear. “Not gonna make that same mistake again, and from now on, I'm gonna tell the people I appreciate just how much they matter to me.”

You were much too stunned to speak, but she wasn't. “So thank you again.” She finishes her little speech and pulls away first, but not before giving you one last big squeeze and letting out a noise of contentment as she does so, then shuffles over to her previous spot in the bed. 

Not taking notice of the way you were at a loss for words, or about to set the room on fire with how flustered her actions made you. Her obliviousness was a common theme, it seemed. She clears her throat and claps, grabbing some more candy for herself, then says happily, “We still got the rest of the movie left, then we can do whatever after. I really wanna know how this ends.”

Naturally, your head is spinning, but you were too caught up in your thoughts to continue paying attention to the movie as much as you were before.

You felt awful for her, yet somehow, felt as if your crush on her had quadrupled in size yet again. You saw through the guard she put up, she broke down those walls and opened up to you. You were honored she trusted you so much, and only hoped that would never change. That, coupled with how remarkably good hugs she gave, has led you to the realization that you were properly in love now, things had gotten real. This was trouble. You vowed to always be there for her for whatever she could ever need, you'd drop everything to teleport by her side if you could. 

Goodness, what were you possibly going to do now, instead of giving you the ick, or helping you with the task of getting rid of that stupid infatuation you were so plagued by, every experience felt like a deliberate ploy to just make you fall even further for her. You couldn't help but wonder just how much love a person can feel for someone, because it only continued to grow. 

A couple days later.

Sitting in the cozy campus cafe, you were revising all your coursework. It was giving you a massive headache, but the warm and hazy lighting aided it a touch. The walls had cute plastic vines crawling up and down, and even though there was chatter all around you from the other patrons, it wasn't a distraction and in fact acted as some sort of white noise, everyone was talking in a nicely muted tone, it all blended to create the perfect ambience. 

You waved down the waitress to get yet another cup of coffee, your third one of the night, that’s healthy, before trying to resume with your aggravating studies. 

To your dismay, you've used up all your brain power for the evening, and could not force yourself to continue no matter how hard you tried. Maybe a few moments of peaceful people-watching would get you back on track?

You sip on the hot drink, then lean back against the comfortable booth seat to begin scanning around.

In one corner directly on the opposite side of where you were sitting, there was an elderly couple. They looked so in love, dressed in matching outfits, feeding each other as they shared a dessert, holding hands and conversing with a hushed tone, nodding and looking into each other's twinkling eyes. So cute, you hoped that was going to be you in the future. 

Moving your line of sight to watch beside the couple, there was another student, their books and computer were scattered across the wooden table, piles of pens and pencil cases near falling over. They seemed to have fallen asleep, unmoving with their head laid tiredly across their crossed arms. The sight made you chuckle out of familiarity, you really felt for them, studies were hard. 

But then a sound caught your attention. A bright, husky giggle fought its way over the ambience, reminiscent of a certain someone. 

Your heart jumped, your ears perked up and you immediately became insistent on scouting her out among the patrons, this was a necessary mission. 

Feeling highly nervous and antsy, you try to drown out the noise and focus on where she could be, and quickly enough, you find her.

Ellie in her natural habitat, she was so mesmerizing. Sitting far away from you where you could get a good view and hear snippets of conversation if you focused hard enough, but not close enough where she would notice your shameless gawking. She was sitting with a group of a handful of her friends, who all appeared to be gossiping and laughing with each other, you couldn't tear your eyes away.

Her smile was gorgeous, and you knew that, but there was something about just being a spectator which fascinated you, you could stare at her all day. Her energy lit up the entire room, and made your heart race.

Snapping out of your trance and trying to not be so obvious with your staring, you tried to look occupied, tried reorganizing your notes while still keeping an ear out to listen. Occasionally glancing over as  well. Yes, it's true that eavesdropping is wrong, but you couldn't help yourself. Anyone would do the same, right?

The group's passionate discussion was making you extremely curious however, and you strained to hear what they were talking about. Among the muffled chatter, you heard a woman’s voice say the word crush, then an outburst of laughter, the loudest guffaw from Ellie herself. 

You felt the budding panic start to form in your chest momentarily, but swallowed the lump forming in your throat and took a sharp intake of breath to calm yourself at once. They could be talking about anything, there's no need to jump to conclusions just yet. Fumbling around your bag for your headphones to listen to some of the song recommendations Ellie had given you, you’re led to discover that they are, in fact, dead. Of course. 

Despite any and all wishes to stop eavesdropping on them and mind your own business and abide by what they say, ignorance is bliss, you simply couldn't. She was too damn captivating. Like a painting in a museum, like a statue at a town’s center, one that people stopped in their tracks to admire. 

The way her eyes sparkled and gleamed under the warm lighting, her cheeks tinted a faint rosy hue from the exertion of laughing so hard, her sweet smile. She was too perfect. God, you hated crushes, being infatuated with someone to this degree couldn't be healthy. But what could you do? Just look at this angel.

Fidgeting nervously while still being entranced by the group of friends, you heard a man’s voice say the words “there’s no way”, followed by Ellie howling even harder than she had the whole time you've been watching them, and punch him forcefully on the shoulder. 

The curiosity was going to swallow you whole, it was like a car crash you couldn't look away from. You felt your palms begin to tremble and sweat with worry, and anxious assumptions of all kinds running through your mind, were they talking about you? No, they couldn't be, you're just overthinking it. Relax, relax, relax.

You tried your hardest to control your breathing and soothe your spinning mind so you wouldn't spiral, until you heard something that absolutely shook you to your core.

The same woman from before, not Ellie, in a highly teasing tone of voice said your name.

You felt frozen, this couldn't be happening. All your worst fears were coming true at this very moment. You had to get out of there right away, this was too much to bear. Curiosity really did kill the cat didn't it, you wished you didn't comply with the morbid desire to know everything. 

Panic-stricken like a deer in headlights, near hyperventilating at this point, the final straw was all three of them erupting into laughter simultaneously, with Ellie through gasps, going "oh come onnnn”.

Yeah that was it. Hot tears started pricking your eyes and you vigorously blinked them away before they started streaming down your face, as if you needed to be humiliated even more. You felt sadded, torn apart, betrayed. Sick to your stomach too. This time, for once, you really thought you had something going for you. From your perspective, albeit through rose-colored glasses, you were convinced she was being genuine with you all this time. How could you not be? 

The late night study sessions, the air thick with tension, the conversations draped in a sleep-deprived haze, the walks to class together, the first fated interaction, the looks you two shared from across the huge lecture hall; the looks where you two just knew when to share a glance, was all of that fake? Was she leading you on purposefully because her friends thought it was funny, that you were a joke?

The tears threatened to spill and your stomach twisted painfully with the world-shattering realizations you were just served with, and you angrily shoved your belongings in your bag.

You were too caught up in your panicked frenzy to notice how disruptive you were actually being, your textbooks thumping and keychains jingling, but frankly didn't care enough to meet the numerous pairs of eyes observing your misfortune. Who could blame you, your whole world and everything you've known just crumbled before you. 

You slung your bag over your shoulder noisily as a choked sob made its way up your throat, then speed-walked out of that cafe. You were never going to be able to go in there again unfortunately, shame, their pastries were so good.

Right as you tried to step through the door it got stuck, because the universe was being really nice to you today, and as you tugged on it to get it to open, you heard the friends lower their voices, but you could still make out a jumble of hushed words sounding something like, “oh no, is that…” Great, great, fucking great. The only solution to this was to change your name and ride up to Seattle for goodness’ sake, maybe throw yourself into a volcano as well just because. 

Finally the door swung open after what felt like eons, and you stumbled outside into the chilly autumn air, feeling goosebumps spring up all over. Where you were going, you didn't really know. This cafe was new, so it would take some time to figure out navigation so you stood dumbly in the middle of the front lawn as you tried to orient yourself.

Once you think you've got it, you start your agonizing trek back to your little room, screaming inside of your head, until you're harshly yanked back mid-footstep by a vice grip on your arm. What the fuck was it now. 

Ellie. The sight of her only made your tears increase in quantity and the emotion in your chest tighten. She looked a little disheveled, her eyes round like saucers, and she was gripping onto your arm so hard as if you were going to run away. You wanted to, but she still had a magnetic hold on you, even after all that turmoil. 

Talking was painful with how much you were trying to keep a hold of yourself, but you managed out a choked, “Ellie, what?” 

She looked befuddled, shaking her head ever so slightly and scrunching up her eyebrows, her gaze boring right into yours and following whenever you tried to break it and look elsewhere. Her hold on your arm softens, and moves to rest on your shoulder. “What do you mean what? You ran outta there like you were chased by a lunatic or something, what the fuck happened?”

Her tone startled you a little, why did she care so much? Noticing you jolt, she sighs and mellows her speech. “Sorry, what I mean to say is, I'm worried. Are you okay?” 

You worried her? Heat rushed to your cheeks as you fought to break the increasingly uncomfortable eye contact, and all you could do was shrug. Your lip started quivering and you were losing the fight of keeping your composure, how wonderful. Despite everything she was being so sweet, way too sweet. You felt helpless at this point. 

The words started pouring out of your mouth like a waterfall, you were properly sobbing now, falling apart and hiccuping as months and months of emotion spilled over. 

You were blabbering about how you loved the friendship you formed with her, but how hurt you felt that she’d laugh about you, every possible insecurity just tumbled out of your lips, as you wiped at your teary face and runny nose and glanced at Ellie ever so often. 

She let you talk for a bit until she saw you get even more upset, that's when she got a step closer to you, squeezed both your shoulders gently and kept a stern tone of voice to get your attention.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, slow down, I don't know what you're saying.” But you couldn't stop crying. Bottling up emotions was definitely a bad idea, because they were bound to burst sooner or later and unfortunately, you reached the breaking point. Sucking in some unsteady breaths as an attempt to regulate yourself, she was watching you patiently yet still cautiously. 

Your voice was weak and shaky, but you were slowly feeling a little better. For the first time during this interaction, you meet her eyes. Why was she always so pretty? She was sculpted just to spite you, you were convinced. Tears welled up in your eyes once more, but you blinked them away. “Um…Ellie…” She nodded expectantly, wanting to know what was wrong. But you could not complete your sentence as yet another bout of ache washed over you.

To snap you out of it once and for all, Ellie grabbed your face. The sheer disbelief of her action was enough to stop your tears luckily, and she held your gaze while she used her thumb to swipe at the stray teardrops adorning your cheekbones. You wanted to die, what was going on?

Once your panic was replaced with fluster and stupefaction, she let you go, but was still standing really close to you. You felt jittery from it all, nervous, embarrassed and in love and everything under the sun all at the same time. You stared at her, then looked away, then looked at her plump pink lips which were set in a questioning pout, then back up to her sympathetic greener-than-grass eyes, fuck, fuck, fuck. The intensity of the situation had caused any sense of judgment or critical thinking to long, long gone, and so your body moved on its own and before you had a chance to form a solid thought or process what you were doing.

Smooch.

You kissed her. 

Mouths colliding like magnets as you held onto the sides of her face, fireworks igniting in every single part of your body. Cradling her jaw as you closed the space between you two, the hurricane of emotion coursing through your veins as your lips caressed hers, and time felt like it had stopped. The months and months of excruciating pining had all led up to this very moment. 

She instinctively kissed you back, you felt her breaths fanning your face. You were about to ascend to another dimension. Lingering against her for a little longer, you forced yourself to regretfully pull away, and laughed loudly at her state now. 

Her lips were parted and she was gawking at you, you had broken her completely. Your own heart was working overtime, you were panting from the adrenaline of the situation, and could only hear the blood rushing in your ears. 

She seemed to be in a coma, doing nothing but staring and breathing. You punched her arm playfully, your voice breaking.

“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU, YOU FUCKING IDIOT.” 

An frustrated confession tore itself from your throat, even the world's strongest iron bars couldn't contain it. You wiped at your face with your sleeves, a sad attempt to clear it of the residual salty tears that never once stopped their journey out of your eyes.

The sadness had left you, and you felt lighter now, truthfully. Had no idea how you would ever face her again after all this, but at least the cat was out of the bag and you had gotten that off of your chest. You both stood there in silence, now what was wrong with her? What a dork. Sucking on your teeth and kicking a pebble on the ground you admitted finally, “So, yeah. That's what's been troubling me, I guess.” 

Her pupils were dilated and huge, as she scanned all over your features, her mouth opening and closing as if she was having an internal battle of what to say. She stood there almost appearing miles more shocked than you somehow, she looked as if she was going to have a heart attack and die on you, you found it funny, but concerning at the same time. 

You watched her for a moment more, before accepting your disappointing fate and bidding her a goodbye. You cleared your throat. “Okay then. Cya in class. Bye.” You turned on your heel and began the walk back to your room, but this time for real, and didn't look back at her. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't, you wanted to leave this whole fiasco in the past. That chapter was closed, it seemed. 

The only thing left to do now was call your bestie, Abby. She has been your cheerleader through this whole thing, through all this time, gave you advice and brought you back to Earth, and you needed her support now more than ever. 

Right after you reached your dorm she was there in no time at all, after receiving your distress call she scrambled into action, with chocolates and boxed wine in hand. Maybe you should just date her instead at this point. Who else was left for you?

You talked and talked and talked to her about everything for so long, talking the night away just like old times, and she sat and listened to your every word, patted your back reassuringly as you weeped into her shoulder, then tucked you into bed at the end of it all. She left only when she was sure you'd relaxed fully.

You didn't fall asleep quite yet, and stayed awake thinking, pondering life and staring up at your ceiling. It turns out angrily confessing to the girl you've been infatuated with forever by impulsively kissing her and letting the whole campus know it was a tiring thing after all. You really did cause a bit of a scene, when you thought about it in hindsight.

But what was this all like from Ellie's perspective? You wished you could know what she thought, or at least gotten some sort of formal response. Her friend storms out of a cafe, kisses her and screams she's in love with her? It's certainly understandable she'd feel a little lost, or under great pressure to give you an answer. Her reaction did make sense though, after being met with such a shocking revelation. Wow, now that you were really thinking about it, she still did not know why you ran out of the cafe like that. You wished you could turn back time and redo this day, shame that wasn't possible. Were you two ever going to have a discussion about this, or had you just lost a friend for life. Oh no, you pushed that thought away as quickly as it appeared, you didn't have an ounce of energy left over to dwell on it.

You'd work out what you were going to face her next later, a very well-deserved visit to dreamland was way overdue. You felt your eyelids grow heavy and your breathing slow, so you turned on your side and snuggled into your bed, eventually falling into a deep, deep sleep.

Meanwhile on your bedside table:

Bzz, bzz, bzz. 

lovely taggies: @lasting-lover @radioheadfan699 @sophie-thefrog8 @machetegirl109 @ellieschair @aouiaa @wavesgocrash @tangerinngi @elliesbitchvenus @amiorca @dinaissoprettyoml @rxreaqia @camicocom1a @elliesexual @smelliewilliams @boobdrug @writing-on-a-bathroom-stall @bready101 @yourelliewillms @ap3arll @bunnyrose01 @elliesactualgirlfriend @paranoiero @sakiigami @4ftergloww @ellstronaut @vqxen @desireesfics @lez-zuha @dyk3ang3l @iluvellie0089 @tphmnv @seraphicsentences @seaseasalts @biblically-accurate-ellie @deliriousrn @pxterpfx + a very special tag to @fleshunger hehe :)

if i wasn't able to tag you, investigate the issue somewhere in your settings!

[fanaticsnail]

Every day I wake up and think "Why is there no Childhood Friends Doflamingo x Reader fics?" and every day one of my Discord friends tell me "because Kid Doffy would literally treat Kid Reader like someone beneath him cus everything is still fresh for him" but I bring you counterarguments for the Childhood Friends Doflamingo x Reader story:

1. He meets Reader after his house gets burned down. Reader is Rosinante's age, so eight years old. It's when DQ brothers are being beaten by the thugs; kid Reader gets a bat and protects him and Rosinante from the thugs who were beating on them over bread

2. she brings them food from the restaurant her parents own - home cooked - and meets Homing & Mrs Donquixote, who encourage Doffy & Rosi to befriend her but Doffy remains careful

3. Doffy has confused feelings about Reader but she's only ever treated his injuries (the first human not to hurt him) so he decides Reader is "his human to protect" not "human to enslave" yep he has groups in his mind, little crazy baby flamingo boy

4. Reader teaches Doffy & Rosinante to climb trees. Doffy comments that's what monkeys do, but Reader teases him that whether it is what monkeys do, he still can't reach her if he doesn't climb. Doffy accepts the challenge. He doesn't take long to get the hang of it. Right when he is nearly at the top, he nearly falls but Reader grabs his hand and pulls him onto the branch. I think this is where Doffy starts having a little crush on Reader. He doesn't realise that's what it is.

5. I don't know Ace, Sabo, Luffy I know Doffy, Rosi & Reader. Sure they would not be as wild as ASL since the thugs in North Blue are probably much more deadlier than in East Blue, but they'd be good thieves.

6. Reader is so gentle with Rosi and Doffy gets jealous and says his brother is a crybaby and Reader shouldn't help him, he needs to learn on his own. Reader just blows Doffy a raspberry which makes Rosinante giggle - the first time Rosinante has laughed since their house burned down

I just think if we just put in some thought, it can be plausible for Kid Doffy to have Kid Reader as a friend in his childhood days. He'd feel challenged by a "human", someone younger than him, and want to prove his heavenly status, why he's better. Reader just nods along with it and is kind to them both. They don't do any sort of competitions, they just co-exist.

Kid Doffy is like a street cat. He bites and scratches, and tries to claw your face off, but it's cause he's been through terrible shit and he doesn't trust strangers. He needs patience and kindness.

The fic would require just some patience and kindness I think, for the childhood part of their story, so Doflamingo by the end of it considers Reader precious to him to the point he thinks he is the best person to protect her. That it's his duty. He'd probably call himself her heavenly guardian or sth in his mind when he reaches that point.

Of course, that then can turn into him becoming very possessive of Reader as they grow up (Doffy even when becoming the young 10-11 year old leader seems to stick to one headquarters in that timeframe) and his crush from childhood evolving through time from protectiveness into a wish for a romantic relationship.

Anyway, kid Doffy & kid Rosinante deserve to have a friend during that terrible time, and they both latch onto that little amount of kindness, they appreciate it a lot. Doflamingo only realises it later down the line how much it meant for him Reader supported him.

They show appreciation for that differently later. Doffy comes into the restaurant Reader inherited from her parents all the time and makes sure everyone in the North Blue knows that's his territory, and the place where his crew gathers to celebrate things. He always sends Reader gifts such as jewelry, and kisses her on both cheeks whenever he sees her, using the excuse of it being a custom in Dressrosa to his advantage. Rosinante shows his love with hugs. When he sees Reader when he's Corazon he just hugs her. He doesn't give a shit.

Also, Reader & Kid Law & Baby 5... Reader would feed them all the food and pamper them.

Doffy can't go without Reader's home cooked meals. Food is very important to him, I think, after experiencing starvation. He probably invites her to join the crew as their chef cook when they head for the Grand Line. If not...

Well, kidnapping you is always an option 🤣

(he would lie about what happened to Rosinante. either that or get completely drunk and cry in your lap, confessing everything. You know what, I like the latter. Let the big man cry. I love pathetic drunk Doffy.)

- Yandere Doffy Anon

Okay okay okay okay okay. This was gorgeous. I am in love, and all of the relationships with all of the kids, and the coddling of Rosi. Yes. Please. I love their relationship, the silent confusion in the "what is this feeling" -> it's addictive, and I love it. "My human to protect" WHERE DO I SIGN UP????

Here is my interpretation of what childhood friendship would look like with Doflamingo.

What about a young son of a celestial dragon having regular interactions with a contractually bound daughter of another celestial dragon? And then he's taken away from you by his father? Doflamingo x f!reader image.

Your parents schedule regular playdates with one another so your faces do not grow lost on you both over time. From toddlerhood, to childhood, your friendship grew with your betrothed spouse as you both read with one another, and made puzzles and sculptures together. He pulled your hair, you brushed off his glasses, he bit you on the hand, and you cried to your maid.

You are a bit stuffy and spoilt, but what child of the pinacle of society isn't? Similar to Doflamingo, it is your birthright to be treated with the utmost respect and worshipful adoration.

But your heart becomes kind.

When becoming lost in a crowd of unfamiliar faces, the kindness of a stranger who knew nothing of your face changes you from a prissy young miss to a girl spun in webs of charity and compassion.

It makes the young Doflamingo disgusted seeing you interact and thank his servants when they fix you and him lunch. Conversing so freely with the chaperone, asking questions about his children, it makes the eight year old sick. He'd rather trick them into being scolded and thrashed.

When Donquixote Homing defects, the ties that strung you together lay severed and desolate. The friendship between you forbidden, but your mind often wanders into what had become of him. You both had this unspoken hatred and the closest friendship with one another any two children could have.

Inseperable.

Until you were separated.

It took four adults to restrain you from running to him in the council chambers. Hearing Doflamingo had returned with Homing's head, you had nearly lost yours with glee at his return. When he was denied a rise in reinstating his former title, you were overwhelmed with a grief beyond your years in capacity.

Over the decades, you wondered what had become of him. Your heart had been broken when your father renounced your coupling. Each time a potential spouse was presented to you, you would shut it down with haste. Although you were only young, you spoke with such indignation regarding your disdain for such an alliance. What if this one was taken from you too? Nothing would ever match up to him.

They would never be Doflamingo, and you refused to be the spouse of anyone who didn't meet his equal. His insanity mirrored a darkness in your heart that you had since clothed in kindness. He was your absolute, the stop at the end of the line. He was yours, and you were his completely.

When Tsuru had invited you to the first gathering of seven warlords of the sea, you had no idea what to expect. No matter what you prepared yourself with, your readiness mattered not for the sight that was to welcome you in. Charity was your character, and your humility is what made you the chosen celestial dragon the world government asked to converse with the most.

Pink feathers, rosy glasses, blonde hair, and a sinister grin you had long since burried, had your chest swell and eyes flood with every emotion. Silence was all you offered in your shock, your face shrouded behind a veiled cloth you often travelled with.

You knew exactly who you were looking at, and he had no idea it was you. The way his presence demanded attention, his sinister playfulness with Sir Crocodile and Tsuru, the way he openly taunted the former Marine Hunter Mihawk: each motion captured your soul and held you hostage.

It was only when Tsuru had asked you to speak did you stifle the warmth in your chest. You knew Doflamingo would likely hold disgust for the Celestial Dragons due to their lack of restoration, and you chose to ignore him - just as he ignored you.

When your attendants removed the veil from your extravagant headpiece, the first sound to travel through the realm was a collective gasp. You were young, a woman, and incredibly beautiful. Nothing any of the seven warlords were expecting was anything amounting to a single scrap of you. And you chose to play coy to the slack-jawed blonde in the corner.

After speaking your well rehearsed speech, Tsuru thanked you with her head bowing low, encouraging the other marines to pay their respects in kind. Sir Crocodile offered you a polite bow alongside Kuma and Jinbe. Mihawk tipped his hat to you, which you nodded in kind.

Immediately rising to his feet, Doflamingo's arms hung limp as his lips lay parted and almost quivering. His hands shook, his shoes feeling like lead in lieu of leather, and he finally stood before you. Your attendants sprung up to your side, your guardians guiding their hands to the hilts of their weapons: only ceasing when you hold up your own hand to stop them.

With that same hand, you hover it in front of Doflamingo's face, guiding it in an intimate expression without ever colliding with his skin. He rises his own, mirroring your motions and causing your eyes to flutter shut. An inaudible movement of your name courses through his lips, no sounds to voice them other than a single breath.

"Time has not been kind to you, mi amor," you whisper, Doflamingo's knees buckling at the tone your voice had grown into. It was the greatest symphony he had ever heard, the voice of his childhood friend blossoming into the bloom of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

"Time saved all it's kindness for you, mi querida," he managed string together beneath his petrification.

The room was silent, all watching in awe as the most detestable inhabitant in the council chambers was brought to his knees with a single look from a powerful woman. The familiarity had Tsuru's stomach tighten, wondering if extending an invitation to you was in her best interest. Although, seeing Doflamingo behave with his absolute best manners had her lip twitch up at the corner.

He was yours again. A man who was once everything, became nothing, and built himself up to something again. And he was yours.

And he couldn't be happier to be in your presence once more. Why else would he have fought so hard to rise to the top? For mere power alone?

No. That is far too simple. He is far from simple. It was for the chance to be once again worthy to stand in your presence and kneel at your feet as an equal in potential matrimony. But would you still have him after all the time that had passed between you?

Only you held that answer.

Edit to add, I got distracted by the roast chicken and forgot to add the tag list. I'm sorry everyone.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady

[vroomvroomcircuit]

You pulling in made me wish your Dad pulled out

(A/N): Thank you to @foreveralbon for workshopping this fic with me with this prompt. I don't know what to do if you weren't my muse.

Summary: Charles pissed off his neighbor with his parking. Her answers are notes taped to his car window. How can evolve more out of that?

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female!reader

Wordcount: 1.6k

🏎Masterlist🏎 ________________________

(Y/N) knows that she isn’t the most professional car parker. She should never start a career as a valet for sure. After all, she needed a second attempt on her own practical test to attain her drivers license.

But there is this one neighbor of hers. She doesn’t know what he looks like, what his name is or where he even lives. But (Y/N) knows one thing for sure: He is a shit parker.

Like, he is the worst person at parking that has ever walked the world. If he could, he probably would park his oh so expensive car onto other cars. But she tries to not let that get too close to her. After all, we just talk about parking spaces and it’s not worth getting her blood pressure up over it.

But (Y/N) found her tipping point.

Her whole morning has been a shit show. Her alarm went off, but she accidentally turned it off instead of giving herself another five minutes of sleep. Five minutes turned into 45. That meant the young woman had to rush through her usual morning routine and she is 90 % sure that she put at least one clothing item on the wrong way.

But it’s ok, she is still on time. She just needs to get out of the car par-

This is where (Y/N) last thread of patience with that neighbor snaps in two like a potato chip, crisp and unclean. This person parked the front half of his car in a way that completely blocks (Y/N)’s rear end from exiting the car in a way that does not hinder the sidewalk.

It takes a solid seven minutes to get out of her spot, trying not to scratch hers or another car. Arriving a few minutes late at work because of that and receiving a reprimand from her boss is really the young woman’s last straw. On her lunch break she does some snooping on the internet and comes across a really fine find. It’s worth the price and shipping cost to her.

Actually, she can’t wait for the week it is supposed to take to arrive at her doorstep.

But the time between that particular day and the day of arrival do fly by when you use it getting madder and madder at the dickhead that is unable to park like a normal person.

The next occurrence doesn’t take long after (Y/N)’s package finally arrives. She wanted to park her vehicle in her usual spot when Mr. Ferrari already took his and her own too. How can one person be such an asshole?

(Y/N) takes one of the business card sized cuts out of her glove box and puts it in the slit of the black car’s window. Satisfied with her work she steps back into her vehicle and looks for a different spot, ending up walking several minutes back to her apartment building, having to look somewhere farther away.

Charles can see from a distance that there is a card at his car’s windowshield. Which makes him suspicious. Surely no one thinks that he wants to sell his car for cheap, so it can’t be one of those car handler’s business cards. Maybe it’s a new ruse of thieves, trying to get him to stand long enough at his car to read it and be able to steal his car. Or they are kidnappers. Anyways, he makes quick work of putting the card into his pocket and drives off at a neck breaking speed.

When he arrives at his destination, the Monegasque pulls the piece of paper out and reads it. “The way you pulled in makes me wish your dad pulled out”, he reads aloud, laughing a little to himself.

He has to admit that he might not be the best at parking. Who is he even kidding, he would win the world championship at being the worst car parker possible. But the thought of someone getting that angered over his non-existent skills.

It’s something that makes him happy throughout his entire day. Which is his main reason to try and look how much he can piss that particular neighbor off even more.

So Charles starts parking even worse. If he also starts on the habit of watching out of his window more often now, he would claim it is just a coincidence. But something in him wants to meet that neighbor.

That person that gets more and more creative with their insults. One time they called him an obstacle to evolution. The other day the business card said something along the lines of him belonging to the asshole club now.

Another, a handwritten, note asked him not to reproduce. The neighbor even left a condom for him. This made Charles laugh so loudly, that (Y/N) looked out her opened window.

She just finished one of the worst shifts she ever had since starting that job and all she wants is just a quiet evening to come down from the stress. Just the noise of the laugh is enough to set her off again.

Seeing her handsome neighbor from under her apartment pocketing the note and condom she left just minutes earlier isn’t what she expected. Watching him opening the car, sitting down and driving off is even less on her list.

It kind of destroys her world view, realizing that hot neighbor and asshole parker are the same person. In the last couple of weeks (Y/N) started to get some fun out of the mean comments she left at the black Ferrari’s window. This also could be her chance to finally make a move on him.

The young woman waits for the brunette to return with his car and stays seated on her couch for another couple minutes, for extra measure of course. After that, she leaves the apartment building with her prepared note and tapes it to the car’s rear window.

Charles on the other side stays glued to his window as soon as he enters his apartment. He finally wants to catch the person that gets angrier and angrier each time he parks in an outrageous way in the act.

Seeing the beautiful neighbor, who lives above him, sticking another note to his car makes his heart flutter in an unexpected way. For some time now he wanted to get to know her and if everything went according to his original plan, ask her out on a date. But maybe he can now use this to his advantage.

As soon as the beautiful neighbor is back in the building Charles waits an extra couple minutes before he once again makes his way to his car.

Running over his vehicle with a pep in his step, Charles is kind of excited about what insults or threats await him now. He has to admit, he actually parked pretty decently. Or as decent as he is able to. So the note has to be at least a little bit nicer than the previous ones.

“Hey neighbor. I thought instead of shitting on you and your parking skills even more, I want you to help and get better. I may not be a driving teacher, but helping you wouldn’t make your skills worse. Just text me with the times you are available at ;)” signed with (Y/N)’s name and number.

It’s kind of funny to explain to the press later how Charles met (Y/N) and became her boyfriend.

"Yeah, well I know that my driving has become sort of a, a meme,” he answers when asked a week after his announcement on instagram, “And my neighbor wasn’t too fond of it either. So she started to leave me these really funny, but also really aggressive notes at my car. One said something like I won the inconsiderate Parker Price. Which made me quite proud.” This entices a laugh out of the journalist. “Yeah, (Y/N) has a really good way with words, I fear. But in the end she offered me some parking lessons.” Charles smiles and thinks back to them.

He had texted (Y/N) immediately and they set up a date for the lesson two days away. But they still continued to text non stop and by the time they met up, it felt like they had been friends for years.

Which didn’t stop (Y/N) raging at Charles after his fifth failed attempt of parking his car according to her instructions. “I don’t believe you anymore. With the way you park you are not from Monaco but the deepest and wildest parts of Italy! Your Ferrari seems really fitting now!” This drew a laugh out of him until she graced him with the meanest look he didn’t expect her to be able to muster up.

“How about dinner as a thank you and apology?” He asked sheepishly, trying both to diffuse the situation and make his move. Why not shoot his shot right now?

Luckily the young woman agreed.

“In the end my parking skills weren’t enough to win her over, but my charm was what scored me a second date.”

And a third. A relationship. After some more funny parking jokes and him kneeling down on one knee with a ring and the promise to take lessons to keep their future family safe he even scored himself his unexpected forever.

[l8dyvenus]

astrology observations. #5

+ Moon in 4th tend to look for partners that remind them of their mothers. If placed in a man’s chart, I typically see this as them going for older women. 👩‍👦

regardless, If you want to bag a cancer placement man, nurture him or act like his mother. It will literally do the trick🙃trust me, I know, it’s literally how I bagged my boyfriend. but be careful, they most definitely have breeding kicks especially mixed w Virgo.

and if they are ethnic, learn more about the culture or ask about it. take trips to their homeland too! or just simply do your own research to impress them.

+ it’s true, Libra suns run from conflict or ignore it. and if mixed with Water placements in a chart, they tend to lie to try to keep the peace. sometimes it does backfire on them.

+ Leo moons, did your mom always try to humble you?

+ Cancers and Taurus’s go so well together 🥹

+ I noticed that people who’s planet(s) fall into my 8th house tend to give/buy me things everytime I see them. I literally don’t even have to ask. they give me more compliments and find me pretty than people who’s planets fall into my 1st. 🤣

As a 8th house Stellium, I loveeeee people who fall into my 8th house, never had an bad encounter we just always clicked🫶🏾.

+ read a post that said Mars in 4th H takes on which ever parent shows that aggressive impatience nature and whewww, they didn’t have to read me like that 🤭.

+ a Scorpio moon once told me, “if they are not obsessed with me, I just don’t think they like me fr” LMFAOOO

+ All Scorpio moons aren’t as bad as portrayed to be, it really just depends on their relationship with their mother. I see this placement as like having a Cancer/4th house moon. even though Scorpio is at fault in this position, it shows greatly that the mother has a MAJOR influence and role on how they act, respond, their mindset, and characteristics. and all Scorpio moons and their relationship with their mothers are not bad either. but they could be over smothering. either a light helicopter parent, or a over the extent helicopter parent. I noticed that it depends on how well the moon is aspected. when the moon is negatively aspected, the moon person typically takes on the toxic characteristics and personality of their mothers which makes them destructive and “bad” as the stereotype. when not negatively aspecting, they are much more self/socially aware and conscious. not saying that negative aspected moons can’t be more self evolved, but they tend to have the shorter end of the stick. they just have take that journey to get there.

I met a Scorpio moon where his moon was well aspected with trines and sextiles to harmonious planets. His mother wasn’t abusive, narcissistic or any of that sort. Scorpio moon people typically were born at a time where it was very inconvenient traumatic time for the parents, especially the mother. This showed up in his chart as his mother being over protective and overly affectionate. Not necessarily an over the extent “helicopter” parent, but he would tell me she calls him everyday, sends him bible scriptures, tried to put him in the best schools, best positions in life to be better or have better than she had. Although majority of the choices she made for him, is not what he wanted, he knows that it’s from the good intentions of her heart. Pluto = evolution, death/rebirth, betterment, etc, so her actions showed up as wanting to protect him in her own traumatic way but also wanting him to evolve into something better.

+ Justice from the movie Poetic Justice definitely had Venus in the 8th H 💌

side note - I feel like erykah badu does too. I saw a post saying that every man she dealt with when they met her weren’t self evolve, then after their relationship they were all into the occult and dressed bohemian lmfaooo. like literally, search up erykah badu and the guys she dated, how they look then and now.

+ Neptune in the 4th, is it just me or is it hard to get anything done in your house without feeling tired? I have a lot of energy outside of my home, but when I get to my moms place I feel lazy and especially depressive. It’s hard for me to do anything. I didn’t realize that until I recently left for college then came back for visits, and then permanently stayed. Lmk 👄?

+ a Uranus dom or heavily placed in a males chart most definitely likes to paint his own nails. I don’t know if he is or not, but search up Dennis Rodman. He gives me Uranus Dom Vibes.

+ on the topic of Uranus, Aquarius, Leo, & Virgo placements in 8th degree are very experimental, but they can be deep into things like the dark web, bdsm, smut, abusive sex, etc. like really dark sexual shit.

+ Capricorn placements and the dying urge to crack the hell out of every bone in their body just for fun >> 😼

+ Aquarius moons tend to run to their friends for every thing, especially when it comes to family matters. friends could be an outlet for venting. But I noticed they tend to have a weird relationship with them. One minute they can have a lot of close friends and the next, those same close friends aren’t very close anymore.

+ water placements (especially moons) pay attention to how you feel around ppl. that is your biggest gift.

Anyways, CIAO! 😽

MASTERLIST

[newobsessionweekly]

something old

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Tim Bradford x bestfriend!reader Series: Something old, new, borrowed, blue Fandom: The Rookie Summary: You and Tim have been best friends for years, but your friendship is jeopardised when you caught feelings for him and Tim decided he wants to propose to Lucy.

Angst

A/N: How I LOVE this one. I've been so exited to post it, I really couldn't resist any more. I hope you like it as much as I do. Feel free to give some feedback and if you have any ideas for the next parts, I'm all ears. Thank you so so much for your support, I appreciate every single one of you. Lots of love, bubs! ❤️ Warnings: eating disorder briefly described, getting drunk ? not proofread yet Requested: not really, yes maybe - here Words: 4k

You buried your head into cases, one after another, working overtime and exhausting yourself on purpose. Keeping your mind occupied with work and the treacherous world outside, you didn't have time to think about your own life. And it was for the best. For the past months you watched the man you've been in love with for years fall for someone you've considered your friend. Of course, neither one of them knew about the feelings evolving inside you with every sight of him, but it doesn't make it less painful. And it still keeps you up at night.

Tim has been your best friend since you can remember. You've been there for each other through thick and thin, always finding solace in each other's arms. He's been your shoulder to cry on, the first person to share your happiness with, and the only one who's got your back. Until now. Sitting at your desk, you checked your watch and sighed. It's almost ten pm and the bullpen is just as quiet as a grave. Your grave, plugged up by your own misery. You didn't catch sign of Tim for weeks, the last thing he said to you was a distant 'morning' thrown in a rush as he left for patrol duty with Lucy. It's funny how you imagined that seeing Tim and Lucy on a daily basis at the station would tear you apart, because right now, not seeing Tim for weeks broke you even more. They kept their distance at work, showing only professionalism as their sparkling glances filled with so much love and joy spoke volumes. Laughter slowly broke the silence, the well known voices echoing through the station. You raised your head a little, to take in the sight as you watched Tim and Lucy bantering. But you noticed something was not right, his smile didn't reach his ears as it used to, eyes don't seem filled with emotion and she didn't seem to notice. You knew Tim like the back of your hand. You could sense something's going on between them, but you lowered your head just in time, before your eyes could meet Tim's. Your intention was not to avoid him, not necessarily, but seeing him so late after his shift ended, surely caught you off guard. Just as his hand on your shoulder did.

You raised your head, startled by the unexpected sensation of warmth as his smile grew on his face, genuine you might say. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." he excused himself softly as his eyes searched yours, going back and forth between you and your desk, "What you doing here so late?"

You blinked, momentarily stunned by the sudden closeness, the warmth of Tim's hand on your shoulder seeping into your bones. For a moment, you forgot how to breathe, lost in the depths of his gaze as his eyes searched yours with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"Just... catching up on paperwork." you managed to reply, your voice steady despite the chaos swirling in your mind.

Tim's smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of something you couldn't quite decipher passing through his eyes before it was gone, replaced by a mask of sarcasm. "Doing the homework for the whole department, Detective?"

You chuckled softly, the sound feeling forced even to your own ears. "Something like that," you replied, offering him a weak smile in return.

Tim nods, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he pulls up a chair beside your desk, his expression serious. "Can we talk?" he asks, his voice low and hesitant.

Your heart skips a beat at his words, a thousand thoughts racing through your mind as you nod, motioning for him to continue. "Of course, Bradford. What's on your mind?"

He hesitates for a moment, his brow furrowing with uncertainty before he finally meets your eyes. "It's about Lucy," he says softly, his voice tinged with nervousness.

His eyes darting away from yours before finally meeting them once more. "I want to propose to Lucy," Tim admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm scared, scared that I'm not good enough for her, scared that I won't be able to protect her."

Your heart clenched at his words, the pain of your unspoken feelings bubbling to the surface once more. But you pushed it aside, forcing a smile onto your face as you reached out to take his hand in yours. "Tim, you're more than good enough for her," you said softly, your voice filled with conviction. "And as for protecting her, well, I think you've proven time and time again that you'd do anything for her."

Tim's eyes searched yours, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in their depths. "But what if something happens to her because of me?" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Your heart feels like it's been wrenched from your chest at his words, a dull ache settling in the pit of your stomach. You've known for a while now how deeply Tim cares for Lucy, how much he loves her. And yet, the thought of him spending the rest of his life with her, fills you with a sense of profound loss.

You shook your head, a sense of determination coursing through your veins. "Tim, you can't live your life in fear of what might happen and you can't blame yourself for the dangers of this job," you say, your voice trembling with emotion. "Lucy knows the risks. She chose to be with you, despite them."

His eyes searched yours, a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty shining in their depths. "Thank you, Y/N," he said softly, his voice barely audible over the din of the bullpen. "I needed to hear that."

You smiled, squeezing his hand gently before releasing it, a bittersweet ache settling in your chest. "Anytime, Tim. You know I'm always here for you."

You smiled, pushing the pain aside, burying it deep beneath the surface where no one could see. Because in the end, all that mattered was Tim's happiness, even if it meant sacrificing your own.

As Tim stands up from the chair, a playful glint dances in his eyes, and he can't resist teasing you. "You know, Detective, it's past your bedtime. Shouldn't you be tucked in by now?"

You roll your eyes with a laugh, shaking your head at his antics. "Oh please, Bradford, like you're one to talk. Last time I checked, we're both adults capable of burning the midnight oil."

Tim chuckles, his laughter filling the room with warmth. "Touché, Y/L/N," he concedes, his smile genuine. "But someone gotta keep you out of trouble."

You roll your eyes, unable to suppress a grin at his antics. "Like I need you to keep me out of trouble. I can handle myself just fine, thank you very much. I'm a grown adult who can stay up past bedtime if she wants to," you tease, flashing him a mischievous grin.

Suddenly, Tim's attitude shifts, a concerned expression playing on his face as he leans forward, his voice soft and earnest.

"Seriously, though, Y/N," he says, his tone gentle. "Don't stay up too late, get some sleep. You're no good to anyone if you're running on empty."

You're taken aback by his sudden change in attitude, the warmth of his concern washing over you like a comforting embrace. Despite the playful banter, you can see the genuine worry in his eyes, a reminder of just how much he cares about you, even if he doesn't always show it.

You smile softly, touched by his concern. "Thanks, Tim," you say sincerely, your voice warm with gratitude. "I'll make sure to hit the hay early tonight. Wouldn't want to dethrone you as the grumpiest cop."

Tim's lips quirk up in a small smile at your teasing, a hint of relief flashing in his eyes. "Hey, watch it." he says softly, his voice gentle. "But take care of yourself, okay? Promise me."

You nod, a sense of warmth settling in your chest at his words. "Promise," you reply, meeting his gaze with a reassuring smile. "And you take care of yourself too, Tim. Don't forget to look after your woman."

With a chuckle, Tim nods, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes as he turns to leave your office. "I won't," he promises softly, his voice carrying a warmth that fills the space between you. "Thanks, Y/N. For everything."

The station buzzed with activity around you, the usual hustle and bustle of the station fading into background noise as you sat at your desk, lost in a sea of memories and emotions. You've seen the bullpen and the files of criminals more than you've seen your own bed, the caffeine taking place of your breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Since Tim told you about the proposal, it's been radio silence from him, not a word exchanged between the two of you. The weight of his words hangs over you like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over everything you do.

You glance down at your hands, absently tracing your fingers over Tim's dog tag from Afghanistan. He had offered it to you when he safely returned home from the war, a silent acknowledgment of your friendship and the bond you shared. And now, as you hold it in your hands, it feels like a cruel, constant reminder of everything you had lost and everything you could never have.

The tag feels heavy in your palm, a tangible reminder of the weight of your unspoken feelings for Tim. You close your eyes, willing the memories to fade, but they only come rushing back with even more intensity. Memories of late nights spent talking and laughing, of shared secrets and stolen glances, of a friendship that had once meant everything to you.

You've lost weight in the past weeks, the stress and heartache taking their toll on your body. Dark circles ring your eyes, evidence of sleepless nights spent tossing and turning, haunted by memories of Tim and the friendship you fear may be slipping away.

Angela, your only remaining closest friend and confidante, joins you at your desk, her presence a welcome distraction from the storm raging inside your mind. "How you holding up?" she asks softly, her eyes searching your frame with concern. "I, uh, heard about Tim and Lucy."

"Yeah, no, I'm fine," you reply, forcing a smile onto your lips as you clear your throat. "I'm really happy for him."

Angela raises an eyebrow, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Liar," she mocks gently. "You don't look fine."

You sigh, the facade slipping for a moment as you meet Angela's gaze. "It's just... been a rough couple of weeks," you admit, the words heavy on your tongue.

"I know, I'm sorry," Angela says sympathetically, reaching out to squeeze your hand in a gesture of support. "You know, I'm here if you need to talk or something. Or drink it away. Whatever suits you," she adds with a chuckle.

You spot Tim across the bullpen, his back turned as he converses with another officer. A surge of emotion wells up inside you, a tangled mess of longing and heartache that threatens to overwhelm you.

"You know what?" you say suddenly, your voice firm despite the tremor in your heart. "I could use a drink." You pause, a plan forming in your mind. "Or maybe ten. But I have to take care of something first."

Angela looks at you, confusion flickering in her eyes as you rise from your desk and make your way towards Tim. "Y/N!" she calls after you, but you ignore her, your mind made up as you steel yourself for the confrontation that lies ahead.

Outside, the sun sets in a blaze of orange and pink, casting long shadows across the pavement as the city begins to quieten down. But for you, the night is just beginning, a whirlwind of emotions and unanswered questions swirling around you as you prepare to face the man who holds your heart in his hands.

Your heart pounds in your chest, a mixture of uneasiness and determination swirling inside you. His gaze meets yours, and for a moment, you see a flicker of something familiar in his eyes, a warmth that sends a shiver down your spine.

"Sergeant Bradford, may I have a word?" you ask, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside you.

Tim turns to face you, his brow furrowing in concern as he takes in your appearance. The other officer excuses himself, sensing the gravity of the situation.

The circles under your eyes and the weariness in your expression send a pang of guilt coursing through him. He's been so consumed with his own turmoil that he failed to notice the toll it was taking on you.

"Everything okay?" Tim asks, his voice soft with concern.

"Yeah, just wanted to talk to you about something," you reply, your voice betraying none of the turmoil raging inside you.

As Tim's concern for your well-being rises, so does his guilt. He knows he's been distant, preoccupied with his own thoughts and emotions. But seeing you like this, so worn down and fragile, hits him harder than he expected. A surge of emotions threatens to overwhelm you, as well, the love you've buried deep down resurfaces, overshadowing the pain and frustration that have consumed you for weeks.

"Hold on a second, Y/N," Tim says, his voice tinged with worry. "When's the last time you slept? Or ate something?"

You feel a surge of anger bubble up inside you, a mask to cover the hurt and vulnerability that threaten to spill over.

"Okay, Bradford. Don't pretend like you care," you snap, your voice sharper than intended. Deep down, you're grateful to know he still cares, but the pain is too raw, too fresh to acknowledge.

"I just thought it's best for you to have this back," you continue, taking his hand and placing the dog tag in his palm. Your voice trembles slightly as you speak, the weight of your words heavy in the air. "You know, for the wedding. Something old. Like... our friendship."

Tim's heart sinks as you push the dog tag into his hand, your words ringing in his ears like a painful echo.

Without giving him a chance to respond, you turn and walk away, leaving Tim speechless and confused in your wake. Deep down, you know you've made the right choice. It's time to let go of the past and move forward, even if it means facing a future without the man you've loved for so long.

He knows he messed up, knows he let you down in ways he can't even begin to comprehend. But as he watches you disappear into the crowd, he's filled with a determination unlike anything he's ever felt before.

He won't let you slip through his fingers, won't let your friendship crumble away to nothing. Whatever it takes, he'll make things right, even if it means facing the painful truth that he's been in love with you all along.

The night air is thick with the scent of alcohol and laughter as you stumble out of the bar, Angela's concerned gaze following your every move. You've had way too much to drink, the alcohol coursing through your veins and clouding your thoughts with a haze of euphoria and pain.

But despite Angela's disapproving glances, you press on, drowning your sorrows in the numbing embrace of alcohol. It's a temporary escape, a fleeting moment of oblivion in a world that seems determined to crush you beneath its weight.

As the night wears on, the alcohol begins to take its toll, your movements growing sluggish and uncoordinated. Your laughter turns to tears, the pain of losing Tim as a friend hitting you with a force you can't begin to comprehend.

And then, just as the world begins to blur around you, Angela's voice cuts through the fog, her words a lifeline in the darkness. "Bradford, get your ass here and clean the mess you've made," she says over the phone, her tone tinged with worry.

Tim's voice responds, filled with concern. "What happened?"

"Y/N's a bit drunk and I can't deal with her by myself," Angela replies, her voice tight with concern.

"Give me five," Tim says, his urgency palpable even over the phone.

As Tim rushes to the bar, his heart pounds in his chest with a mixture of worry and guilt. He can't shake the feeling that he's somehow responsible for the state you're in, that his actions—or lack thereof—have pushed you to this point.

When Tim arrives at the bar, you're a total mess, the alcohol having stripped away all semblance of control. Seeing you like this, vulnerable and hurting, tears at his heartstrings in a way he never expected. He can't help but feel a surge of guilt wash over him, knowing that he's played a part in your pain.

He helps you into his car, his touch gentle yet firm, a rush of conflicting emotions floods through you. His hands are warm against your skin, a stark contrast to the cold reality of the night air.

You feel a pang of sadness as you meet his eyes, clouded with worry and concern. The distance between you feels insurmountable, a chasm widening with each passing moment.

"Come on, Y/N. The party's over. Let's get you home," Tim says softly, his voice filled with concern and they wash over you like a soothing balm, a reminder that even in your darkest moments, he's still there, still willing to help you pick up the pieces.

But you protest, your words slurred and disjointed as you gaze at Angela through heavy-lidded eyes. "Why did you call him?" you mumble, frustration evident in your voice.

He buckles you up, his movements careful and deliberate, a flicker of hope stirs within you. Maybe, just maybe, there's still a chance to salvage what's left of your friendship, to bridge the gap that's grown between you.

Tim exchanges a look with Angela, confusion flickering in his eyes. "Where are her keys?" he asks, his tone serious.

Angela shrugs innocently. "Yeah, that's the problem. She lost her purse. Don't you have a spare key?"

Tim's jaw tightens with frustration. "No. You?"

Angela shakes her head, her expression apologetic. "Obviously not, that's why I called you." she smiles at him playfully, "Good night, Bradford."

As Tim starts the car and pulls away from the curb, the world outside blurs into a hazy kaleidoscope of lights and shadows. You bumble something incoherent through the drive, your words slurred and disjointed as you struggle to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

He helps you out of the car and guides you inside his house, his touch is both gentle and reassuring. Each brush of his hand against yours sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you, igniting a fire deep within your soul. You lean on him heavily, your legs wobbly from the alcohol as he guides you inside.

Tim leads you to his bedroom, his movements gentle yet firm. He helps you out of your shoes and jacket, his touch lingering longer than necessary as he tucks you into his bed, tracing invisible patterns along your arm, pulling the covers over you. You can feel the warmth of his touch seeping into your bones, soothing the ache in your heart and calming the storm raging inside you.

"Can I get you anything?" he asks softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. "Do you need anything?"

You mumble something incoherent in response, your words slurred and barely audible. As he sits beside you on the edge of the bed, his touch becomes hesitant, unsure of how to navigate the tangled web of emotions between you. His hand hovers over yours, his fingers trembling ever so slightly as he debates whether to reach out or pull away.

"You," you whisper, your voice barely above a whisper.

Tim's heart skips a beat at your words, a surge of excitement coursing through him as his touch falters, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt. But all he finds is raw honesty, a vulnerability that takes his breath away and leaves him feeling exposed.

He maintains a serious expression, his concern for your well-being overriding any other emotions.

"You're drunk, Y/N," he says softly, his voice tinged with regret. "You don't know what you're talking about."

But you're insistent, stumbling over your words. "I know," you say, your voice tinged with desperation. "I know I love you and I know I need you."

Tim's heart aches at your words, the weight of your confession hanging heavy in the air between you. But he knows you're not in the right state of mind to have this conversation now.

But you shake your head stubbornly, your words slurred as you try to leave the bed. "I need to go. What would your fiancée say" you insist.

"Take it easy, Y/N," he says gently, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. "You need sleep. We'll talk in the morning."

But you plead with him, your eyes searching his for any sign of reassurance. "Please don't go," you whisper, your voice tinged with desperation.

With a sigh, Tim gives in, knowing that arguing with you now would only make things worse. "Fine," he says softly, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I'll humor you and sleep on the floor."

You pat the empty side of the bed, a small smile playing on your lips. "Here," you say, your voice soft and pleading.

Tim chuckles softly, shaking his head in amusement. "You're so drunk," he murmurs, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you close. "And you're definitely gonna kill me in the morning."

Tim settles into bed beside you, his touch is gentle yet firm, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your back. The warmth of his embrace envelops you like a cocoon, comforting and familiar, and you find yourself leaning into him instinctively, seeking solace in his presence.

"But it's definitely worth it," Tim whispers softly, his voice filled with a tenderness that makes your heart swell with love.

His touch sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that burns brighter with each passing moment. It's as if every brush of his fingers against your skin is a promise, a silent reassurance that you're not alone, that he's here for you no matter what.

And as you bury your face against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulls you into a sense of peace you haven't felt in weeks. In this moment, with Tim's arms wrapped around you, everything else fades away, leaving only the two of you alone in the darkness.

But beneath the surface, a storm rages within you, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions that threatens to tear you apart. Guilt gnaws at your insides, knowing that you've burdened Tim with your drunken confessions, knowing that you've crossed a line that can never be uncrossed.

His touch is tender yet tentative, as if he's afraid to break the fragile spell that binds you together. He can't help but feel a sense of peace wash over him, knowing that in this moment, nothing else matters except the two of you, wrapped up in each other's arms, clinging to the fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, there's still a chance for love.

And yet, despite the turmoil raging inside you, there's a sense of rightness in this moment, a feeling that you've finally found your place in the world. In Tim's arms, you feel safe and loved, cherished in a way you never thought possible.

[perfectsunlight]

[31] DO IT

warnings: emotional distress, family conflict, intense feelings of isolation and public scrutiny.

ivory had always been afraid of being forgotten. not by her fans or the world—but by the one person who mattered most. even as a child, she would wake up in the middle of the night, wandering to her mother’s room, needing reassurance that jennie was still there. sometimes, she’d stand quietly in the doorway, watching the steady rise and fall of her mother’s breathing, too scared to wake her but too terrified to return to bed without knowing she wasn’t alone.

it was a fear she never spoke of, one that existed in the spaces between phone calls, in the empty chairs at school performances and birthday dinners. as she grew older, ivory learned to bury that fear beneath layers of independence and a carefully constructed persona. she became untouchable, unbreakable. but deep down, the fear never really went away. it just evolved—into a gnawing ache, a quiet desperation that simmered beneath the surface.

no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, no matter how fiercely she told herself that she didn’t need anyone, especially not jennie—there was always that part of her, that small, terrified child, that craved her mother’s presence. it didn’t matter that the world saw jennie as an untouchable icon, a woman too busy for mundane things like school recitals and family dinners. to ivory, jennie wasn’t a superstar. she was her mother. the one person whose absence felt like a constant void in her life, no matter how full her schedule or how loud the applause was at the end of the day.

as a child, it was easier to forgive. ivory could accept the excuses—the concerts, the tours, the interviews. her friends’ parents worked, too. it was normal, she told herself. but as she grew older, the empty seats at her events became harder to overlook. the brief phone calls shorter. the excuses thinner. and yet, despite all of that, ivory couldn’t bring herself to truly resent jennie. 

she couldn’t. she wouldn’t.

but she was scared. scared that one day her mother's calls would stop altogether. scared that the distance between them would grow so wide, neither of them would be able to bridge it. and now, standing at the center of this storm, that fear felt closer than ever.

the headlines hadn’t stopped since paris.

who is jennie’s mystery daughter? did k-pop’s queen secretly have a child? blackpink’s jennie: a liar and a mother?

the press had latched onto the grainy photos and videos of their argument like vultures circling a fresh kill. ivory had seen the way they twisted the story, the wild speculation that spread like wildfire across social media. the world now knew jennie had a daughter. 

and they knew it was her. 

jane had spent years keeping her identity hidden, living under the radar while the world worshiped her mother. she had liked it that way. the anonymity, the freedom to exist without the suffocating weight of expectations that came with being jennie kim’s daughter. but now? that fragile shield had been shattered, and the world was closing in.

the calls had started soon after the story broke. jennie, frantic, trying to reach her—voicemail after voicemail, the panic in her voice barely contained. ivory had listened to each one with growing dread, her finger hovering over the play button as her heart raced in her chest.

“valentine, please. i need to know you’re safe.” “jane, please. please just let me know you’re alright.”

there had been so much desperation in her mother’s voice, the kind ivory wasn’t used to hearing from her mother. jennie was always composed, always in control. but now, she sounded as if she was unraveling at the seams. and ivory couldn’t take it. she couldn’t bear to hear her mother like that, not when she had caused this entire mess.

so she ignored the calls. all of them. 

when the familiar buzzing showed on her screen every few hours, it felt like an unwanted reminder of the chaos she had unleashed, a storm that tore through both of their lives. each vibration sent a sickening twist through her stomach, a reminder of the gravity of her actions.

after the confrontation in paris, ivory had fled the hybe building, overwhelmed and reeling. she didn’t want to face anyone—not the paparazzi waiting outside, not her mother, and certainly not herself. so she slipped away, taking a cab to a small, rundown hotel in the heart of seoul, far from the flashing lights and the stares that burned into her skin.

her managers knew where she was, and they had told her to lay low until they figured out what they were going to do. 

the hotel was shabby, with faded wallpaper and a flickering neon sign that buzzed incessantly, but it offered a strange kind of solace. she checked in under a fake name, wanting to escape the reality of who she was and what she had done. here, she could hide from the world, drown in her thoughts, and figure out how to untangle the mess she had created.

days passed in a blur of solitude. the room was small and dimly lit, with a single window that overlooked the busy street below. she could hear the sounds of the city—the chatter of voices, the honking of horns, the distant thrum of music. but within those four walls, it felt as if she were in a different universe, one where time stood still and the chaos outside faded into a dull hum.

ivory found herself staring at the walls, the phone silent for days. she had turned it off, the weight of it resting on the nightstand like a stone. the outside world felt like a distant echo, muted and blurry. she had done this to think, to find clarity amid the storm of emotions that threatened to engulf her. but instead of solace, she was confronted with a suffocating silence that pressed down on her, amplifying her thoughts until they roared in her mind.

every night, she would curl up in the thin hotel sheets, staring at the ceiling as tears soaked into the fabric. the headlines blared in her mind, the way the world painted her as a reckless daughter, a girl who had turned her back on her mother. each image she had seen of jennie—stoic yet clearly shattered—felt like a knife twisting deeper into her heart.

maybe she had gotten it wrong all along? maybe it wasn’t jennie who was a bad mother, but perhaps ivory was just a bad daughter?

the thought gnawed at her, burrowing into the cracks she’d tried so hard to seal with layers of resentment and self-protection. for so long, she had told herself that her mother’s absences were her choice, that they were symptoms of a life she’d constantly chosen over jane. but maybe she’d been too harsh, too quick to judge. maybe, instead of seeing her mother’s absence as abandonment, she should have seen it as a sacrifice—the kind of sacrifice jennie had made over and over again for a career that demanded so much of her.

she remembered the times her mother had tried, the small efforts that jane had always brushed aside. 

the hasty texts on long flights, the brief hugs at drop-offs. the late nights when the idol would tiptoe into her room just to check if she was sleeping, her gaze lingering as if she could somehow make up for all the time she’d missed. ivory had shrugged those moments off as mere gestures, believing them to be obligations jennie fulfilled out of duty, not love. but now, lying alone in the dim room, the reality of it hit her in waves. what if those gestures had been her mother’s way of holding on? what if, in those tiny efforts, her mom had been showing her all the love she knew how to give?

the guilt was like a weight pressing down on her chest, making it harder to breathe. ivory had been so focused on what jennie hadn’t done. she had zeroed in on the moments she’d missed, that she’d blinded herself to the ways her mother had tried. she felt stupid now, like a fool who’d misread the intentions of someone she’d thought she knew.

and here she was now, hiding away in a hotel room, and pushing away her mother like she had always done. perhaps it was the only thing ivory was good at?

the irony stung. for so long, she’d told herself she didn’t need anyone, that she could stand on her own. but now the feeling of jennie’s absence left her hollow. what she wouldn’t give to hear her mother’s voice, to feel her arms around her, reassuring her that no matter what, she was loved.

she just needed to know that even though the world hated her, jennie didn’t. but how could she face the woman who had done so much for her now? how could she call and ask for comfort from her own mistakes?

it was unbearable.

the silence was thick, suffocating, punctuated only by the soft, shuddering breaths she tried to keep at bay. her hair clung damply to the sides of her face, sticking where her tears had traced lines over her skin, and she made no effort to brush it away. she was too tired, too drained to fight it. the shame was a living, breathing thing, curling around her ribs and squeezing until she felt she might break. she wanted to call, needed to hear her mother’s voice if only to remind herself that she hadn’t lost her for good. 

but fear held her still, paralyzed by the thought of what jennie might say—what if this time, she’d gone too far?

her mother had built her image, brick by brick, a fortress against the world. for as long as she could remember, jennie had been untouchable—a figure of grace and strength who carried her fame with an elegance that shielded them both. she was not only a mother but a force, someone who had learned how to guard herself against scrutiny, judgment, and the eyes of millions. 

and in one single night, ivory had torn it down entirely.

the thought made her throat tighten. it wasn’t just her mother’s disappointment she feared; it was the possibility that she might have broken something between them beyond repair. she could almost feel the weight of her mother’s silent gaze, the look jennie gave when words failed her, a look jane had always dreaded. how many times had jennie shielded her from the world, made sacrifices so she could have a semblance of a normal life, always trying to balance her career with the quiet reality of motherhood? 

the young idol slowly shifted to grab her phone, finally powering it on for the first time in days.

with a trembling hand, ivory unlocked her phone, its glow casting an eerie light across the dim hotel room. notifications flooded the screen—missed calls from jennie, countless unread messages, and a storm of news alerts she didn’t have the strength to open. she ignored them all, her thumb hovering over the search bar instead. she hesitated, feeling the familiar ache in her chest that had kept her silent for days, and then she typed in her mother’s name.

the videos started playing softly, her mother’s familiar voice filling the empty room like a gentle balm. some were clips from concerts, where jennie laughed and shouted with the crowd, her voice confident and warm. others were softer interviews, where she answered questions thoughtfully, her tone composed and steady. ivory’s heart twisted as she listened, letting her mother’s voice settle over her like a blanket, the sounds wrapping around her loneliness and fear.

as the videos played, she closed her eyes, imagining that jennie was right there beside her, as if these recordings could somehow bridge the distance between them. she could almost hear her mother speaking directly to her, calming her fears, reassuring her like she used to when jane was little, waking from a nightmare.

she remembered the times jieun would have to do the same thing she was doing now. jane always had trouble sleeping whenever jennie was gone. whenever her mother was away—on tour, at a shoot, anywhere the demands of fame took her—ivory would find herself wide awake, the shadows in her room feeling bigger and darker without jennie’s reassuring presence. the quiet would fill her with a familiar fear, that gnawing ache that maybe one day jennie might not come back at all.

on those nights, ivory would wander down the hallway, blanket in hand, and find jieun still awake, often reading by a small, warm light. jieun always seemed to know what was coming. she’d reach out, patting the spot beside her without a word. “couldn’t sleep, huh?” she’d ask gently, her voice soft but steady. ivory would nod, curling up beside her grandmother as she reached for her phone.

they’d spend those late hours scrolling through videos of jennie, watching old interviews and clips from concerts. her grandmother would play each one as if it were a lullaby, knowing that jennie's familiar laugh and voice were the only things that could ease ivory’s fears. ivory would lean her head against her grandmother’s shoulder, letting her mother’s voice wash over her until her eyes grew heavy, lulled by the warmth of her grandmother and the comfort of hearing her favorite person’s voice, even if only through a screen.

now, alone in a cheap hotel room, ivory found herself reaching for that same comfort.

the hum of jennie’s voice blurred the line between reality and memory. as she drifted further into sleep, ivory could almost believe that her mother’s hand was stroking her hair, whispering that everything would be alright, that no matter what happened, they’d get through it together.

when morning came, ivory slowly pulled herself from the mattress and forced herself to get up and shower.

the water came down in torrents, cold and sharp against her skin, but ivory barely felt it. she stood there, shoulders slumped, the steam from the shower swirling around her in thick clouds. her hands gripped the edge of the glass shower door as her mind spiraled, the weight of the decision she knew she had to make crashing down on her like the cold water that refused to wash away her guilt.

she had to do it. she had to put out a statement—one that would sever the last thread of connection between her and jennie. the world had already begun to twist the narrative, speculating and spinning stories. it was only a matter of time before the pressure would reach its boiling point, and she knew if she didn’t act quickly, everything would unravel even further.

but even as she told herself this, a pit formed deep in her stomach. the words she’d have to say—the lies, the betrayal—they burned in her chest. she couldn’t stop imagining jennie’s face, her voice on the other end of the phone, pleading for ivory to come back, for her to let her in again.

she could almost hear jennie’s voice now, asking, "why? why are you doing this, jane?"

the weight of her mother’s potential reaction was almost too much to bear. but there was no other choice. she had to distance herself. it was the only way to protect jennie from the media storm, from the chaos that ivory had set in motion. 

if she was ever linked to her, it would only drag jennie further into the mess. and she couldn’t do that to her, not after her mother spent so many years in the crosshairs of the public.

but at the same time, she couldn’t ignore the wrenching pain twisting in her chest, the unrelenting ache of tearing herself away from the only person who had ever loved her unconditionally. it wasn’t just the public denial—it was the emptiness of choosing silence over connection, the silence that would stretch between them, forever.

her breath caught, and before she knew it, the tears started to fall.

she didn’t bother to wipe them away. the water mixed with her tears as they streamed down her face. each sob felt like a jagged stone pressing into her chest, each breath a sharp reminder of what she was about to do.

she stood there for what felt like hours, the water running cold against her skin, as the weight of the decision consumed her. she wasn’t ready. she wasn’t ready to break her own heart. but what else could she do?

it was the only way to protect her mother. it was the final act of love she could show—to shield her from the chaos, just like jennie had done for her for many years.

the young idol’s body wracked with silent sobs, her shoulders shaking with the force of them, as the cold water continued to cascade over her, doing nothing to numb the pain. the girl slid down the wall of the shower, curling into herself, her body trembling with exhaustion and sorrow. the sobs finally quieted, replaced by a dull, hollow ache. she stared blankly at the drain as the water swirled down it, as if it could wash away the decision she was just about to make. but it wouldn’t.

there was no undoing this.

but as she looked at herself in the foggy glass, the reflection staring back at her seemed like a stranger. her eyes were red and swollen, her hair clinging to her face, but it wasn’t the image that haunted her. it was the feeling—the deep, gnawing emptiness that settled in her chest.

she wasn’t ready to be this person. the one who had betrayed the woman who had given her everything. 

it felt like an eternity before ivory got out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel, her body still trembling from the emotional storm that had passed through her. she stood for a moment, just staring at the floor, as if hoping for some sign, some sense of clarity, but nothing came. the room around her was still, and the weight of the world seemed to press down on her shoulders.

the idol opened her notes app, typing and deleting words over and over again. what could she say? or what should she say?

the sound of her fingers tapping against the screen felt deafening in the stillness of the room. each word she typed seemed hollow, inadequate—nothing could capture the depth of the turmoil swirling inside her. ivory’s thoughts were a mess, jumbled fragments of regret, guilt, and fear crashing against each other, leaving no space for the clarity she desperately needed.

finally, the girl decided on a few short, simple sentences. this would give them enough information for now. it would do its job, it would be a swift, clean cut.

with trembling hands, the idol opened instagram. all le sserafim members had access to the group’s social media. it seems that still rang true even in the midst of her controversy. do it. you coward, just post it. 

ivory screamed internally, the weight of the decision suffocating her as she paced frantically around the tiny hotel room. her feet moved almost instinctively, a frantic attempt to outrun the rising panic that clutched at her chest. she felt like she was suffocating, the air thick with the pressure of what she had to do, the knowledge of the damage she was about to cause, and the raw, burning shame that threatened to undo her.

she gripped the edges of the dresser, her knuckles white, and tried to steady herself. her breath came in short, uneven bursts, each inhale too shallow, too jagged. the sound of her heartbeat pounded in her ears, deafening and unrelenting.

the phone sat on the bed, waiting, but it felt like it belonged to someone else—someone stronger, someone more composed. not her. not the girl who had ruined everything, who had just irrevocably hurt the one person who had loved her unconditionally.

jane ran a shaky hand through her damp hair, the strands sticking to her face, her palms clammy with sweat. her mind screamed at her to just do it, to just press post and be done with it. but her body refused to listen, frozen in a state of panic, unable to make the final step.

she thought about grabbing a drink from the minibar, or a cigarette from the convenience store across the street. just something, anything, to numb the ache, to quiet the voice screaming inside her head. anything to give her the courage to end this.

instead, she found herself pacing again, faster this time, her feet slapping against the carpet floor as she raked her fingers through her wet hair. tears blurred her vision as she thought about the hell she was about to unleash.

she would never be able to fix this, to look in her mother’s face after what she’s going to do. how could she live with herself knowing she was the one to destroy whatever was left of their fragile relationship? that it was her delivering the final blow?

every step felt like a mile, every thought twisted into another dark, suffocating reality. jane grabbed the phone again, holding it in her trembling hands, but she couldn’t bring herself to unlock it. she squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to stop crying, but the tears wouldn’t listen. they streamed down her cheeks in hot, unrelenting trails, as if her body was rejecting the very decision she was trying to make.

the voice in her head, her inner critic, was louder now. you have to. and all she could do was cry harder, fall to her knees on the floor. she knelt hunched over the small device in her hands. ivory wiped her hot tears away, but they kept coming, the grief and shame bubbling to the surface, threatening to drown her.

“fucking do it,” she whispered hoarsely to herself, as though forcing herself to speak the words would somehow make it easier. but it didn’t. the room felt smaller, and the decision felt heavier. it felt like the entire world was pressing down on her, suffocating her, forcing her to face something she wasn’t ready for.

she was stuck. terrified. mortified.

the phone was still in her hand, and the post still wasn’t out. it felt like the silence of the room was mocking her. the minutes dragged on, stretching into eternity, until she collapsed onto the edge of the bed, holding her phone like a lifeline, but too scared to actually use it.

“i’m sorry, mom,” she whispered into the empty space, the words barely audible, as if apologizing to the void might make it somehow less real. “i’m so sorry.” the young girl swallowed thickly, her throat tight and raw, the weight of her words nearly suffocating her. she could feel the tightness in her chest as if it might collapse in on itself, her body trembling with the force of her guilt and regret. the silence of the room was deafening now, every breath she took louder than the last, like an unbearable countdown to a moment she knew she couldn’t escape.

but she had to. she had to do this.

the tears kept coming, streaming down her face with relentless force. she squeezed her eyes shut, her whole body shuddering with sobs that felt too deep, too jagged to put into words. it was as though her very soul was unraveling with each breath.

ivory tried to steady herself, but the weight of what she was about to do, what she already had to do, was suffocating. she couldn’t breathe. she couldn’t think. she couldn’t speak.

her hand shook as she clutched her phone, the cold screen and hotel walls staring back at her like a silent witness to her unraveling. she could hear her pulse hammering in her ears, each beat like a loud echo in the stillness of the room. the weight of the moment pressed down on her chest, so heavy it felt like she might drown beneath it. she swallowed again, her throat a dry, cracked thing, a raw, burning sensation creeping from her chest to her neck. the very air seemed thick with suffocating tension.

for a heartbeat, time stilled.

the phone felt like a foreign object in her hand, as if she no longer recognized the tool she was holding, the tool that would carve the irreversible. ivory’s fingers hovered over the screen, trembling with a fear that left her weak, her vision blurred by the constant stream of tears falling from her eyes. the words she had written earlier, so cold and detached, flashed in front of her like a cruel reminder of her betrayal. 

i’m sorry, mom. i’m sorry. i’m sorry.

“i’m sorry,” she audibly whispered again, a choked sob catching in her throat. the words tasted bitter, like they weren’t enough, like they could never be enough. her voice broke on the apology, and the sound of it made her stomach twist. the silence that followed it was even worse.

the room felt impossibly small now, as if the walls were closing in on her, boxing her in with her shame. she was suffocating, trapped between what she had done and the consequences of it that she could already feel closing in. the tears came faster, her chest tightening with each sob, each breath more frantic than the last.

with trembling hands, she scrolled down and found the post she had written. there it was—her confession, her betrayal, sitting on the screen, waiting to be sent out into the world.

it felt like an eternity before she could bring herself to press the button. each second stretched into infinity, like a thousand hands were holding her back, pulling her in different directions. she wanted to scream, to throw the phone away, to forget everything and run. but she knew she couldn’t. this was the only way.

with bated breath, ivory closed her eyes, feeling her heart race and her body tremble, and, with one final breath, she pressed post.

the screen flashed. her post was up. 

for a moment, there was nothing. the room was still, her heart beating in her chest like a drum, the silence deafening in its weight.

then, the floodgates opened. the weight of what she had done crashed down on her, each wave of grief so overwhelming it nearly knocked the breath from her lungs. she curled in on herself, sobbing uncontrollably, the phone slipping from her fingers, the screen glowing faintly in the corner of the room. 

from her position, she could see the influx of comments, each a nail in the coffin of the grave she had made. she had lied. she had denied her own mother in front of the entire world. but it was the only way. the only way to shield jennie from the relentless scrutiny, the only way to keep the world from devouring them both.

jane knew the headlines would only grow worse from here. the media would turn their attention to her, dissecting every part of her life, trying to uncover the truth. but she didn’t care. as long as they left her mother alone, as long as she didn’t have to endure the harsh spotlight again, ivory would take the heat. 

and she would do it alone. there was no going back.

all she could do was sit there, curled up on the floor of the hotel room, her heart breaking with every sob that tore through her.

she had posted it. she had betrayed her mother.

and now, nothing would ever be the same.

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CLOSED.

[chloe-caulfield94]

The theme of sexual violence in Life is Strange S1

A very important theme of Season 1, present in the Dark Room plot, is the theme of sexual violence and of women being objectified, turned into inanimate objects by cruel men. This is what Jefferson and Nathan did to their victims - quite literally deprived them of all agency and posed their bodies for their own pleasure.

Chloe was also a victim of the Dark Room. Nathan lured her into his dorm, slipped her date rape drugs and attempted to assault her. She barely escaped before he began his photo session of her, which likely would've ended the same way as it did for Rachel, with Nathan overdosing his model.

By the way, this shows that the remorse expressed by Nathan over Rachel’s death and his complicity in Jefferson’s crimes in his voice mail to Max was completely phoney. Because after he had already murdered Rachel with an overdose, he attempted to perform a “photo session” on Chloe, clearly not minding the possibility of overdosing yet another girl. But why would he mind it? This time it wouldn’t be a friend of his, just some “whore”.

Nathan: “That whore in the bathroom!”

Chloe: “He dosed my drink with some shit ...”

Chloe: “I know I passed out on the floor. I woke up and that perv was smiling, crawling towards me with a camera ...”

When you first heard Chloe describe her encounter with Nathan, how he invited her to his dorm room and roofied her, how he stood over her with a camera when she regained consciousness, what was your reaction? What did you assume Nathan wanted to do to Chloe?

Kate: “I swear to God I had one sip of red wine. I remember ... I remember getting sick and dizzy ... Then Nathan Prescott said he would take me to the hospital ... All I recall is driving for a long time ... then I woke up in a room ... I don't know what happened ... I woke up outside my dorm room the next day. I felt gross”.

When you first heard Kate describe her encounter with Nathan, how she immediately felt drowsy after tasting her drink, how Nathan removed her from the party under the pretext of helping her but instead he took her to some secluded place where he did something to her, what was your reaction?

At that point, was there any reasonable explanation for Nathan’s behaviour apart from him being a date rapist? Spiking a girl’s drink, removing her from the party to a secluded place, taking pictures to keep as souvenirs and to blackmail the victim into silence – that’s textbook date rapist MO.

The sexual undertone of the violence perpetrated by Jefferson and Nathan against their unwilling models is obvious. Explaining his “art” to Max, Jefferson said he’s obsessed with “the moment innocence turns into corruption”. He also said that all his models have “the same doe-eyed look” once they realize what is about to happen to them.

Jefferson: “I’m obsessed with the idea of capturing that moment innocence evolves into corruption”.

Jefferson: “You all have the same doe-eyed look when you wake up here, replaced by fear as you realize what’s about to happen”.

But Jefferson’s usual MO didn’t involve him murdering his victims. He murdered Chloe and possibly Victoria as well as attempted to murder Max, because they were witnesses that needed to be removed. He usually dumped his unconscious victims somewhere after performing a photo session on them, still alive. So if the thing that made his victims supposedly lose innocence wasn’t impending death, what was it? Mark Jefferson strikes me as the kind of person who holds the reprehensible belief that being subjected to certain kinds of violence can cause a person to lose their innocence and become “corrupted”. That is of course not true. The only way a person can become corrupted is by embracing evil with their heart. Suffering violence at someone else’s hands can never deprive you of your innocence or corrupt you. But it seems that obvious truth was lost on Mark Jefferson.

When you first heard Chloe and Kate describe their encounters with Nathan, when you first heard Jefferson, a grown man, talk how he is obsessed with taking away the innocence and corrupting the teenage girls he kidnaps, weren’t the implications of what they did to their victims obvious? I think the writers wanted to leave what exactly happened to victims of the Dark Room ambiguous, but when all the voice lines for Episode 5 had already been recorded, they realized that the fate of the victims was anything but ambiguous, so they decided to add a newspaper clipping Max can find in the San Fransisco timeline, which states that no signs of violence going beyond drugging, kidnapping and posing of the victims was found. I am deeply grateful that they decided to add this bit of information, because I am very fond of all the characters who had the misfortune to be subjected to Jefferson’s and Nathan’s violence – Rachel, Kate, Chloe, Max. But even after we learn that the perpetrators “only” posed their victims and took their pictures, I still maintain that what Jefferson and Nathan did was sexual assault. They drugged their victims unconscious. They at least partially undressed them. On the pictures Max finds in the Dark Room, Rachel is missing her shoes and Kate is missing her black jacket, which they would've been wearing the moment they were kidnapped. And those were just the first photos in their respective albums. Thankfully, we weren’t shown the rest. Jefferson and Nathan exercised complete control over their victims’ limp bodies, posing them in ways they found pleasing.

In her diary, Max describes that some of the photographs of Kate and Rachel she saw in the Dark Room portrayed them posed with Nathan. Rachel’s photographs depicted her “all over” Nathan. This goes to show that the photo sessions done by Jefferson and Nathan involved a lot more physical contact than simply needed to pose the unconscious models and that Nathan got particularly handsy with his victims, both during photo sessions he performed with Jefferson and during those he performed alone.

And why did they only target pretty teenage girls? If Jefferson and Nathan wanted to capture the moment “innocence turns into corruption”, why not target young boys as well? Why go through all the trouble of kidnapping students from an expensive private school that would be searched for if they went missing? Why not target people that nobody would come looking for, like the homeless, or truckers on long hauls? Because they lusted for a very specific type of innocence and a very specific type of corruption. Finally, notice how they talked about their victims. Nathan kept calling Chloe a “whore”.

When Max lamented Chloe’s murder, Jefferson responded by saying she had to be silenced because she knew too much but he wasn’t interested in Chloe as a model because he’d already had his fill of faux punk sluts like that in his Seattle days.

Jefferson: “And don’t get me started on your late partner. I had enough of those faux punk sluts in my Seattle days”.

This is such a bizarre answer. Jefferson, when accused of murdering Chloe, felt the need to clarify that he was not interested in her, because he’d already had numerous flings with girls similar to her in the past. Why say that? If his lack of interest in Chloe stemmed from the fact that he’d had relations with similar girls in the past, then that clearly implies that the interest in his models was at least partially sexual in nature, even if he “only” satiated his desire by taking photographs. Talking about his “art”, Jefferson felt the need to bring up his taste in girls, explaining that he’d had enough of sluts and he was now after pure girls from good homes that he could corrupt to his evil heart’s desire.

Later, Jefferson said that Rachel and Chloe are fucking in heaven.

Max: “Chloe and Rachel! You killed both of them!”

Jefferson: “They’re fucking together in heaven right now. Is that what you want to hear?”

This is a grown man talking about high school kids using language like that – sluts, fucking. All that proves that Jefferson’s and Nathan’s disgusting crimes had a sexual dimension to them.

Look at it from Chloe’s perspective. Nathan lured her into a secluded location and slipped her date rape drugs. She barely escaped whatever he wanted to do to her. If this happened to you or someone you cared about, what would you assume? The only reasonable assumption would be that it was an attempted date rape. And the reality of Nathan’s photo sessions, seeing how they sometimes ended with the model suffering a deadly overdose, while different, was no better than that.

Chloe knew she would never get justice by going to the cops. Her word against the word of the local oligarch’s son? The Arcadia Bay Police Department was so notoriously corrupt that its members would openly admit to taking bribes from the Prescotts to teenage girls they just met for the first time.

Max: “I heard a rumour you were working for the Prescott family on the side”.

ABPD cop: “Look, sometimes I check up on the Prescott family to make sure they’re doing alright. Nathan included”.

Chloe figured that the only way for her to get any semblance of justice was to confront the boy who attempted to assault her and demand compensation. Now, riddle me this. Which ending concludes the theme of sexual violence and objectification of women in a better way? The victim being murdered by her would-be assaulter upon confronting him? Or the victim getting away alive? Murder is the ultimate form of objectification. It turns you into an inanimate object, forever. Should the story of the Dark Room end with it claiming one more victim, objectified irreversibly? Or with the victim reclaiming her agency, breaking free from the objectification and remaining animated?

[fractalunicore]

Sync suits for Tabitha and Shelly! (Shelly and Huntail, Tabitha and Elgyem)

Alt version and some headcanon stuff under the cut

Initially I created these designs with the intention of them being fanmade sync pairs for Pokemon masters ex (Shelly and Huntail, Tabitha and Eglyem), with the premise that the two dress up as Pokemon professors to steal data but end up constantly running into each other and foiling each others plans, however they’re also intended to be hypothetical designs for what Tabitha and Shelly would’ve looked like before joining Team magma/Team aqua based on some personal headcanons and what we know of their backstories in game.

The reason Tabitha is based on deoxys is because I like to think he once saw it and became obsessed with extraterrestrial life before he became more mature and focused. Because of his love of space, his team was once made up of Pokemon like elgyem and magnezone, hence the sync pair pairing (and also because they gave deoxys to Steven already) which he eventually switched out once he became an admin.

The Magma suit and Aqua suits used in the delta episode were made through the collective work of their respective teams, but I like to think it was something he and Shelly were working on together with the hope that they could potentially find Jirachi and deoxys again before they left Devon corp to work as admins, taking their own copies of the initial blueprints with them. Despite their rivalry, I think they’d sometimes compromise to share stories with one another about their encounters with strange Pokemon like Jirachi, and when working together they’d produce great results.

The reason Shelly has a Huntail is because she enjoys diving and perhaps picked up a clampearl or two when she was younger which eventually evolved. Underneath her trousers and lab coat she’s wearing a diving suit, and after work she’d go for a swim with her huntail to let off steam. Another reason why I gave her huntail as a partner is because I think it’s a missed opportunity to not have the admins use more varied Pokemon to set them apart from regular grunts. Huntail fits Shelly perfectly, showing off her more brutal side, but also plays more into her intelligence by having her vary up her team to throw the player off guard.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Fire and Ice

Hi guys!

Yes I know it's me again! I got a request for a story with Leah, so here is a story with Leah.

I'm open to request btw :)

I hope this story will please you, I tried to stick as much as possible to the way I imagine Leah’s dynamique.

Part 2 is HERE :) and the chapter bonus HERE.

Thanks everyone ♥

____________________________________________________________

New to Arsenal, you’ve only been part of this team since this summer. You left Bayern Munich at the end of you contract and after some hesitation between different clubs, you finally chose Arsenal. Lyon would have loved to hire you too, but you felt that English football was probably better if you wanted to continue to evolve in your career. You're only 21 and hopefully, many years ahead of you.

You were scared at first to be honest, you know the team had a lot of players who already know themselves. But Lia was particularly welcoming to you, playing the role of a little mother. Frida, who is also your teammate in the Norway team, decided to show you her favorite places in London and Alessia who arrived at the same time as you quickly offered to do the exercises in training together.

In reality, your arrival at Arsenal was very smooth even if some personalities continue to impress you a little. For example Leah, Beth or Katie. As a result, you have very little interactions with them, as Leah’s injury has not helped to create a special bond with her. Even if she was present on the day of your presentation to the rest of the group, wanted to welcome you like the others.

You do, however, enjoy evenings organized by your teammates and you go regularly. Far from your family, you don’t know anyone here and it makes you feel less alone.

So here you are, in Leah's appartment with some of the Arsenal girls. You hesitated to come since Frida wasn't here, but Alessia is and hasn’t given you much choice to do otherwise. Leah was in charge of the cocktails and only gave Lia a smirk when she asked her what she put in it. You took the time to discreetly sniff the mixture before bringing it to your lips, pleasantly surprised by the sweetness of the drink. A little misleading though, because after two or three drinks, getting up to go to the toilet took a little longer than usual.

When you came back, you drop on the couch next to Alessia, trying to get back into the conversation. You became bit uncomfortable when you realize that the discussion has turned on the girls being in couple or those who are not. You are single obviously, finding it particularly difficult to have a long-distance relationship, or with one of your teammates. In the case of a breakup, you were always afraid that it would be too complicated for you to handle.

So you say nothing, hoping that hiding behind your glass will save you from possible questions. You are very naive.

"And you, Y/N? You never mention anyone, I guess you're single?"

Beth’s question makes you grimace and you find yourself nervously biting the edge of your plastic glass before answering a simple "Yes".

"Why that?" asks Beth and you just shrugs.

"We should make her up with someone" Katie decide and you can't help but laugh a little.

"I’m a little demanding about my partner"

"Not a problem"

You roll your eyes before taking a new sip of your drink, crossing Leah’s gaze. She seems lost in her thoughts, twirling her glass in her hand. Your eyes cross a split second and you hurry to report it to Katie when she speaks again.

"We should make you profil though. Like in a dating app"

"OMG yes, I going to take something to write!"

Alessia chuckles next to you and you can't help but smile too. You don’t really take this seriously, given everyone’s blood alcohol levels, you’re sure that half of this evening will be forgotten by tomorrow morning. So you decide to play the game with a smile.

"Ok, first question" Beth begin with a notepad and a pen. "What is your house in Hogwarts?"

"How is that even a question?" Katie answers with a disgusting face.

"It's not because you don't like Harry Potter than it's the same for everyone, McCabe"

************

You let the two girls ask you questions for twenty minutes, ignoring the departure of several of your teammates. Now it’s just you, Katie, Lotte, Beth, Leah and Alessia.

"Are you a good kisser?" Beth asked, looking over her sheet.

"How am I even supposed to know that?" you ask, giggling.

"I don't know, it's your kissing skills, not mine."

You roll your eyes before answering.

"I've never received any complaints"

"Does it count?" Katie asked while looking at Beth.

"Not really. Is there anyone in this room who can testify to that?"

"What? No!" you laugh softly.

You, in reality, only have two relationship in your life and both didn't end really well. Football keeping you very busy, you maybe weren't a great girlfriend. But that doesn’t mean your first girlfriend’s infidelity should be excused, in your opinion. Anyway, the next sentence coming from Beth's mouth take you back in the reality.

"Maybe we need a sincere testimony from someone we trust…" Katie said thoughtfully.

"Maybe we can make her kiss someone here, now?" Beth answers with the same tone.

"Excuse me?" you ask with a certain concern.

But the two women didn't seem to give it the slightest care, continuing in their dialogue which makes you slightly think of Dupont and Dupond in Tintin.

"Leah is definitely the most experienced of us, she has a hunt board longer than the number of goals scored by Alexia Putellas at FC Barcelona."

"What the fuck?"

This is the first time of the evening that you hear Leah's voice, who had been content until then to make cocktails and dance in the kitchen with Lia and Caitlin. Both of Beth and Katie laugh at her offended face, finally out of their common monologue.

"Come on Leah, you have to kiss Y/N to help her finding love"

"Don't I have any say in this?" you say softly.

Beth’s gaze makes you realize that you don’t really have much of a say, but it’s especially Leah’s piercing gaze that you feel on you that electrifies you. Leah is a very beautiful woman and you must admit that if you hadn't been teammates, maybe you would have thought of her differently. But there is also her assertive and confident personality that can sometimes confuse you, you who is rather quiet and discreet, you are a bit like fire and ice.

But tonight, your eyes meet a few seconds and for once you don't look away. It's even finally Leah who looks away to look at Beth.

"Ok" Leah answers before getting up "But I'm not doing it in front of everyone. Close all your damn pretty eyes"

They all agreed without saying any word, Alessia swaping place with Leah on the couches. The captain waits patiently for everyone to close their eyes, before looking at you.

"You know you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, right? You're sure you want to?" she asks softly.

So softly that it surprises you at first. And you almost immediately feel overwhelmed by a wave of guilt, after all you are very well placed to know that Leah knows how to take care of the people around her. She showed it to you several times as captain of her team.

"I am" you simply answer, before adding "And you?"

"Hey don't worry about me. Go on" she gives you a smirk of her own and you smile back.

You feel particularly nervous though, becoming a little aware of the situation you’re in. Leah doesn’t seem particularly drunk, but you’re hoping she won’t be mad at you tomorrow when she realizes things. You wait a few more seconds, detailing her face and eyes looking for a trace of hesitation. But you find nothing and you finally decide to break the physical distance between you two.

Your eyes left hers and you look at her lips for a few moments, certainly looking at them for the first time. It doesn't last long however. Like a second after that, you close your eyes, your lips gently touching hers. At this distance, you can smell her perfume and shampoo. Her lips are soft and have the flavor of the cocktail she has prepared for you all evening.

But that’s not what’s calling you.

What's calling you is the way your whole body seems to react to a simple peck with Leah Williamson.

You feel like every part of your body is burning up and asking for more of Leah’s. And that's scared the shit out of you. That’s why you step back after a few seconds, wide-eyed, looking for an explanation on Leah’s face. But you can’t find anything and you can’t even determine the emotion in her eyes.

"Tell us when you're finished" Katie points.

Of course, you forgot about them. Everything that didn’t concern Leah directly had been completely zapped by your brain.

"Shut up. We haven’t even started"

Leah answers for both of you and you hardly swallow, not at all recovering from the emotions you felt. That you still feel. A second later, Leah grabs your face with both hands before kissing you. You don't lose a second before responding to her kiss, your lips moving together with an ease you have never felt before.

It's easy for you to get lost in this kiss, the sensations mixing so much that you completely lose the notion of things. Your hands slide over Leah’s hips and you find yourself sitting on her, your legs on either side of hers.

That doesn’t seem to bother her though, her tong easily finding access to yours. Your lips only separate for a few seconds, until you get enough air to start your dance again. And again.

You could have sincerely spent the rest of the evening - the night - kissing her, but one of them had to realize that you were going to get the attention of your teammates. It was Leah who put an end to the kiss first, snatching from your embrace as breathless as you. You don’t look away this time either when she looks at you, before gently pushing you away so that you find your original place on the couch.

You could have taken this as a gesture of reject, but the smile and wink she offers you when she gets up seems to be there only to reassure you that it’s not. You follow her with your eyes as she discreetly go behind the couch, leaning on her backrest, above where she was sitting until now.

"How is it possible that it lasts so long?" Alessia wines and you smile when you hear Leah's laugh.

The other girls open their eyes and the surprise appears on almost every face by discovering your positioning.

"Did you really think I was going to kiss someone to please you? Well everyone out now, I need my beauty sleep."

Rolling their eyes or grumbling, your teammates obeyed quickly. After exchanging greetings, you follow Alessia who promised to take you home. Still disturbed by these kisses, you can’t help but turn around while closing the front door hoping to meet Leah’s gaze.

You succeed, while she leaned against the central island of her kitchen. The same look as the one she used to look at you earlier appears on her face, but you can’t study it as long as you would like since you feel Alessia’s hand grab your arm, suddenly eager to find her bed.