#also this is only halfway edited oops sorry

[charmante-mp3]

Easier

-- Day 9; Stockings (Song Mingi x Fem!Reader)

The people called for Mingi, and so I deliver to you, Song Mingi. And yes, this is from my Kinktober prompt from last year- This is also halfway edited, ending might feel a little rushed? Idk I'll come back to this... maybe. - Kinktober ML Main ML Warnings; Fem-bodied reader, she/her pronouns, squirting, m! and f! oral receiving/giving, unprotected sex (only allowed in reading don't do irl!), thigh-riding/fucking, reader flashes Mingi on accident oops- 1.6k

Y/n looked herself up and down in the mirror, not knowing how she felt about the fabric adorning her legs. A few weeks back, she and her friends went shopping just before settling for drinks. A now monthly routine they had slowly accustomed to. On that night, when she was home the girl haphazardly threw the bags in a corner of her room. Only remembering the new items thirty minutes ago. She sat on her bed, pant less, with nothing but a cream colored sweater and a brand new pair of white stockings. Y/n had purchased many types of stockings in the past, ranging from boring long black socks to pink ones with bows adorning the edges. However, her plush thighs spilling over the top now occupied her thoughts. 

The bitter silence was the first thing Mingi noticed when he walked into the girls home. Usually, the TV was playing or maybe music but not one noise sounded through the house. Did she forget he was headed over? Mingi began to think she was gone and headed to lounge on her couch. He stopped mid-way hearing a loud sigh come from the hallway leading towards her room.

“Y/n, you here?” Mingi’s loud voice tore the girl away from her thoughts, completely forgetting entirely what she was just doing. 

“Yeah, I’m in my room,” She yelled back at him, his footsteps now making way towards her open door.

“Hey, what 'cha doin’?” Mingi’s head peaked in, his newly dyed platinum hair shining in the sun that peeked through her window. 

“I forgot about these new clothes I bought, for some reason I don’t know if I like these new socks,” She looked down at her legs with a confused glare in her eyes. Mingi’s eyes trailed down her figure, breath hitching at the white, lacy stockings. The lace at the top kept bunching together as her thighs pushed over the tight section that stopped mid thigh. Mingi’s hands bunched together as he quickly brought his eyes back to her face. Stopping the thoughts of his large hands gathering the soft skin. 

“I think they look fine,” He said after shamelessly clearing his throat. The poor girl was just as clueless as Mingi sometimes. Like in this situation, both are clueless to the effect they have on each other. Y/n’s new item flutters something in Mingi’s stomach and his complement makes way to hers. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. They’re kind of itchy,” The girl lifted her leg to start removing the increasingly uncomfortable stockings. In this process, accidentally flashing the man in her room.

“Oh my god Y/n,” Mingi’s eyes flew shut at what he saw and the sudden air flow in her lower area reminded her, she wasn’t wearing and pants or underwear. 

“Mingi I’m so sorry,” Her legs flew down, a blush flushing her cheeks. In different circumstances she wouldn’t have minded, but this was an accident. There’s no telling how uncomfortable Mingi was right now. 

“Can I please say something, you can hate me, think I'm gross and everything but you have such a pretty pussy,” Mingi’s hands flew to his face, a fire building up his neck as he rambled. Those words dug a deeper pit into Y/n’s stomach. Mingi was always prone to complimenting the girl, it was his second nature, but those words took this situation a bit further. 

“You can get a better look if you’d like Mingi,” Her words came out barely above a whisper. Mingi’s eyes popped open, his pants growing increasingly tighter.

“I can?” He asked breathlessly. His hands grew clammy, his heart pounding at his chest. With a nod of her head and the slow opening of her legs, the tall male quickly walked over and dove down to her. He hovered over her face before dropping to her increasingly wet pussy, shoving his face into her, inhaling the sweet smell of her sex.

“Fuck,” Mingi growled, feeling pre-cum gather in his boxers. He couldn’t worry about that right now, all he wanted was a taste. 

“Can I taste you?” Mingi asked, his breath airing over her cunt. 

“Please,” She whined at the male, one of her hands flying to his hair as his lips came in contact with her clit. 

“Fuck me, Mingi!” His pace was relentless. Her high was coming embarrassingly fast with the way he sucked and rolled his tongue around her clit. The pleasure was numbing her thighs, unable to feel the forming bruises Mingi brought upon them. Cream coated Mingi’s tongue as she came, but he didn’t stop or slow down. She clenched around nothing when his tongue occasionally slipped inside, curling around and slipping out returning to the torture on her clit.

“Mingi!” She gasped at him, her high increasing even after just cumming. Her back arched, pushing Mingi away as a clear liquid coated his face. He let out a loud groan, grasping his clothed cock as she covered him in her essence. His once light grey tee now darkened around his neck, cum covering his face. Mingi looked down at the dazed girl, her breathing labored as she came down from her high. Y/n looked down to see Mingi palming himself and with that she weakly pushed herself up, which caught Mingi’s attention. 

“Wanna make you feel good,” She said, replacing his hands with her own. Her hands softly pulled at his sweats and Mingi lifted himself, allowing her to pull out his desperate cock. A pathetic whine left his lips as her thumb met the tip, running it along the slit and wiping away the pre-cum stuck to it. His head flew back as she slid her hand further and took him down her throat. Mingi was long just as he was thick, popping him from her mouth she allowed spit to fall from it. Using the spit to jerk the other half of him she couldn’t fit in her mouth. His hands found a refugee wrapped in her hair. His stomach clenched as her throat swallowed around him, his high growing near. His hips twitched as he filled her throat with cum, pushing himself farther down her throat in the process. Y/n pushed his thighs, his cock and cum flooding out with a grotesque gurgle. 

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Mingi rushed to the girl, but she grabbed his hands.

“Mingi I need you to fuck me, please,” Her voice was hoarse and it drove him crazy. 

“Keep those on,” He grunted in her ear. Her hands stopped fiddling with the long socks covering most of her plush thighs. Mingi then picked her up and flipped them around. Her bare cunt now flushed against his bare thigh. 

“Fuck yourself on it,” Mingi’s eyes met hers as he guided her hips around his thigh. He groaned at her slick coating his thigh, small mewls now left the girls throat as Mingi continued a slow pace. Then he tensed his thigh, pushing her further into him. 

“Mingi,” Y/n whined, she wanted more unfortunately Mingi wanted to see the girl fall apart one more time before she came on his cock. His lips came in contact with her neck, before deciding he was tired of her cute sweater. He pulled it off and in return she pulled at his while still grinding on his thigh. As she worked herself, Mingi removed his own shirt allowing her to run her fingers down his chest. The action caused him to shiver as her nails scratched his abdomen. Lips had now found their way back to her neck trailing down to her breast. As Mingi kneaded at one, his mouth enveloped the other one rolling his tongue around it just as he did to her clit moments before. 

“Mingi, i’mma cum again,” The girl above him cried, throwing her head back as she continually fucked herself on his large thigh. He could feel her wetness run down his leg and his cock was red and hard all over again from watching her use him. 

“Cum on my thigh baby, you’re doing so well for me,” His deep voice rang in her ears, she chanted his name like a mantra as she chased her next high. Her eyes rolled back and her body seized, cumming on the blonde male once again. Before she was able to regain a normal state, she was placed below Mingi. He had propped her waist on a pillow before pressing himself along her back. 

“You’ll tell me to stop if it hurts, right? I need words baby,” He voiced into her ear. 

“I will,” Y/n’s voice sounded almost gone as she spoke. It was raspy and shaky, Mingi wondered what she’d sound like once he was done filling her. Mingi rubbed his cock through her folds before slowly pushing into the girl. Y/n moaned as he stretched her out perfectly ruining her cunt for anyone else. 

“So full,” She moaned as Mingi bottomed her out. Mingi’s mind was in shambles trying not to move as she clenched around him, but he needed her to move first. It was only mere seconds before Y/n’s body wiggled back to him encouraging him to move. He held himself a little longer letting out a guttural moan he towered over her, watching her increasingly fuck herself on his cock. Mingi’s patience snapped as he grabbed the girl's wrist, pinning them above her as he roughly pounded his cock into her weeping pussy. Y/n could no longer form words, just loud moans as Mingi’s hand made his way to her swollen clit. The constant pleasure building in her stomach caused her to shake at her final orgasm. Her pussy pushed out Mingi’s cock and squirted once again, now coating the male's lower half. 

At this point, Mingi didn’t know if she could handle another one so he pushed her thighs together, using the previous liquids to fuck her soft thighs. Mingi came, his seed running down onto her plush covers and brand new stockings.

“Well, if it makes you feel better I don’t think you’ll be able to wear these stockings again,” -

[1whore1gang]

it's the little things 🤍

This is part 4!!

Read parts 1-3 HERE

Warnings: more angst, I'm so sorry BUT BUT BUT theres sickeningly sweet fluff at the end so bare with me ;), cussing, emotions, mentions of SA

I tried to make this one longer bc i feel like part 1 was so good and then 2 and 3 kinda flopped so heres me trying to write more than I usually do.

Also, I'm surprised no one has noticed a small writing detail I did last chapter regarding Price. I'll do it again in this chapter to see if anyone can catch on hehehehe :)

EDIT: not me saying I wanted to attempt to make this as long as part one when part one was 2,437 words and this one ended up 4,314 words....oops

Taglist: @gaymistakeboi @batw3nch @thedevillovesflowers @almightywdm @ghostslittlegf @sketchyfandomgirl @under-the-dirt @clear-your-mind-and-dream @darkangel4121 @vreselia @llemes @stargaliz @rockcollector3000 @nottrosaxx

(sorry if i forgot anyone!!! please yell at me if I did!!)

"Stop that!" Your voice was almost begging as Soap kept grabbing at Ghost's little hoodie strings. Soap kept fighting with Ghost all day and you couldn't handle it anymore. You finally picked up Soap and put him alone in the playpen. "You're in time out."

He began to wail, making you shed tears of your own. You were exhausted from the three little boys. They'd been causing trouble lately and keeping you up all night this week.

Gaz looked up at you with a little toy car shoved halfway in his mouth, blinking innocently as Ghost continues to play with his blocks as he was before Soap grabbed him. "At least you two are giving me a break today." Soap continued to wail dramatically, not even crying, just wanting your attention.

Laswell had told you that he needed to learn that he's not the only one you take care of, so you sometimes have to leave him to cry it out on his own to teach him. She'd stopped by the other day to brief you on a new group of recruits.

She was definitely questioning why you of all people had your Captain's so-called 'nephews' and you had to think on your feet, but she didn't buy it.

"Tell me the truth, who's kids are these Y/N?" Her voice was in that motherly tone she had mastered with all of you.

"You wouldn't believe me." You said, trying to quiet Soap's crying, which led to her advice about letting him cry it out.

"If you're going to tell me they're yours, yeah I won't." She shook her head, becoming increasingly more annoyed with you.

"Promise you won't report me for drugs?"

"Depends."

You had told her everything about finding the boys like this, and she had to take some time to think it over until she noticed how Soap only plays with Ghost, and how Gaz keeps to himself and didn't cry once while she was there. She took a day before she texted you again telling you she was there if you needed any help.

That was 3 days ago, and you didn't want to bother her since she had taken over some of your duties since your hands were quite full.

You leaned against the foot of your bed as you finally heard Soap's cries die down, turning around to see he had tuckered himself out into a sleep. You took a couple of deep breaths, trying to dry your tears when you felt little hands on your feet.

You opened your eyes to see Gaz and Simon grabbing at your toes. They both sit down at your attention. You went to go move to see what they needed when Gaz gave you a goofy smile.

Smiling back, you swopped him up to your chest to rock him, almost thanking him for bringing a smile to your face. You heard the familiar little grunt from Simon as you looked at him.

His hand was just outstretched towards you with one of his little blocks, offering it to you. Laughing a little, you took it and noticed the letter on the block was your initial.

Your eyes went wide as you looked back at Simon. "You know...or do you?" The question was more for yourself than him. You knew Simon couldn't understand you, he was a baby, there's no way he could.

"Is this me?" You cooed, pointing to the block he gave you. He grunted in response. "There's no way." Was he actually coherent? Was your Simon in there, he just couldn't express properly? Or had little Simon heard your name enough times that he knew? You felt something wet on your neck and saw Gaz drooling, thanking the universe that two of the boys so far have gone down for a nap.

Setting him in the playpen, you return to Simon, wanting to see if there was any way you could find out if he was cognitively adult Simon. "Do you know what's going on?" Your voice was gentle and quiet. Watching adamantly, you waited for him to give you any reaction. "Simon?"

His wide eyes looked up at you, focused shifted from his toys. "Do you know?" He blinked a couple of times, then looked around the room. He grunted a couple of times before looking down at his blocks.

"Simon?" You said again sweetly. You watched as Simon's lip began to quiver as he looked over his blocks, he began to cry, grabbing at the blocks and then throwing one before beginning to cry. "Oh honey, I'm sorry."

He reached out for you and you picked him up, comforting him. "It's okay honey, I'm sorry." You could tell something had bothered him, but what?

He wasn't wailing or screaming, just a silent whine of a cry. Almost like he was sad or frustrated. "Are you mad at something?" You moved to where you could see his face, cradling him.

You watched his breathing catch in his chest at your question. You ran two of your fingers over his little chest, rubbing circles to calm him. "Breathe Simon, don't hold your breath on me. You're okay, work through the cry sweetheart."

Your touch immediately helped him take in a good sized breath. "That's it." You watched him slowly calm himself down as you shushed him and held him. "Did your blocks make you mad?"

He crawled out of your arms clumsily, the most movement you've seen from him. He threw another block, not aggressively or at anything, but at the ground. "Yeah? Do you not like your blocks?" You reached for another toy for him to play with but he grunted.

You snapped your attention back to him, "What's wrong? I wish you could tell me." You felt helpless. He clearly was distraught over something, and you had no way of knowing what was happening.

He stared down at his blocks again, breathing in huffs. He held one out to you after picking it out. It was a 'Y' block. "What does this mean? Does this mean you understand?" He grunts.

You feel tears sting your eyes. "You know..." He grunts again. "Oh my God!!" You pick him up and stare at him. You bring him to your chest in a small hug, teary eyed. "I'm gonna get you boys back to normal, I promise."

Some hours passed and you had attempted to get a sign out of Gaz or Soap to no avail. It seems as if Simon was the only one who was cognitive of what was going on, but you still were unsure of the extent of his knowledge and awareness.

It's been a week since you had seen the Captain, and as much as you told yourself you wanted to keep it that way, deep down you wanted the softness he had when the boys were were first found. At night, you'd catch yourself dreaming about the way he looked that evening he popped into your office to ask if you were hungry, or the way he speak quietly to you in the mornings knowing you were up late with one of the boys.

Laswell hasn't mention anything about him either but you didn't know if that was a personal choice, or if she actually had no information regarding him.

You wanted to know where he was. Not only did you miss the warmth he held when you two were handling this situation, but you missed his help. He would always let you sleep in or let you take a rest. He cooked and stepped up so you weren't overexerting yourself.

You missed the companionship.

You glanced over to the clock to see it was nearly midnight, but when you scanned the time stamp on your phone, you saw a message from your email.

It was from General Shephard. It was sent hours ago.

Dear Lieutenant L/N,

I am writing this to you to pass it on that the Private you sent to me regarding sexual harassment has been found innocent. There was no camera footage found after review and he has no background violations or any previous infarctions.

Best Regards,

General Shephard

You felt your heart sink in your chest. There's cameras all over the training room, how could they not see it? The familiar sting landed in your throat as your emotions took over you.

Innocent? After what he did? How could Shephard not see that?!

You felt like you were going to scream, the pain unbearable.

It made you think back to Dubai. The severity of that event would've landed that man in jail. The way you had bruises on your neck and hips from the harsh grip of his hands for weeks, the way you limped for days. You remember the cold stare of your Captain when you told him, the nonchalant "Brush it off."

You were crushed.

You had lost.

The sun shone through the windows of your room as you woke up, looking over to see Gaz and Ghost already up. You picked them up to change them and then situated them in holsters, one on your chest, one on your back.

You did the same with Soap and then placed him on your hip, taking them to the kitchen to feed them.

Taking a moment while the bottles warmed, you took in the sight of all three boys in their highchairs, drowsy. Their little eyelashes fluttering as they struggled to stay awake, babbling and cooing.

It made you take a step back and really breathe in the moment, this may be the only time in your life that you're able to have this motherly role, even if they aren't your kids.

The microwave beeped and you shook the bottles, handing each one to the littles, watching as the half-hazardly drank the bottles. You felt a joy spark in your chest, enjoying this time with them despite the trouble they cause.

And here you thought they were troublesome as adults. Jokes on you.

You sat down at the breakfast bar as you waited, your mind drifting to distant memories.

"Y/N!!!" You could hear Soap's voice as you fell to your knees clutching your shoulder in pain. Removing your hand, you saw the blood seeping into the cotton material of your uniform. The sounds of warfare around you felt muffled as the pain radiated through your body from the gunshot wound.

You leaned on your hand to steady yourself, trying to breathe through the pain as the sound of skidding sounded in your ears. Looking up, you saw Soap sliding over to you, firing to cover you. "Get on my back! We gotta get ya outta here lass!" You moved slowly, trying to stay off your right arm. You winced as you climbed onto his back, squeezing your legs to keep yourself up as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

He had carried you out of the fire into a safe house not too far away as he immediately performed first aid to your shoulder. You remember the way he remained calm when his face was in your eyeline, but you could watch his muscles tense as he worried about your state.

The memory made you smile. Soap was always there for you, like he had eyes in the back of his head. Anytime you got hurt out in the field, he was worrying himself sick. He cared so much, and had such a big heart of gold.

"How dare you?!" You laughed, slamming down your Uno cards.

Gaz taunted you as he celebrated his win. You two were in a tent on a mission trying to boost both of your morales. Uno was your favorite game, but he was too good at it for your own good. No matter how strategic you were, he would always win.

Gaz was like that at every game, the rest of the team dreading game nights. Once in awhile though, you'd catch him letting you win because he enjoyed seeing you rub it in everyone's faces. It brought him joy to see you smile, so if he had to take a loss, he would.

You heard a whine as Soap finished his bottle. The other two boys were still working on theirs, so you went to go wash out the empty one.

"Ghost! How copy?" Your voice was panicked as you frantically looked around Las Almas. You were completely separated from Soap and Ghost. Soap had ended up around two miles from you, but Ghost wouldn't come through the radio. It had you so anxious you were going to be sick.

"Soap, do you have visual on Ghost?"

"No," his voice was strained from his shot wound. "There's a church about halfway between us, let's meet there and regroup."

For the next hour and some, you and Soap worked together to find a church, and when you did, Soap was already there. You rushed to him, relief washing over you until you heard a familiar hum.

Turning around, you say Ghost. "Don't fucking scare me like that ever again!" You punched his chest. "I thought you were dead!" You were angry with him, trying to land a hard hit on him.

He grabbed his arms and wrapped them around his waist as he silently brought you into an embrace. You cried into his chest as he brushed his hand over your head, the other drawing shapes into your back. "You're not gonna get rid of me that easy." He let out.

"You scared me so bad, I thought I lost you." You said through sobs.

"You'll never lose me."

Once the boys were finished with their bottles, you washed everything out and put the boys in some fresh clothes. You had decided you were going to take them out as you needed more supplies.

Maybe you'd stop by a park on the far end of town so they could get some fresh air too.

And everything had gone according to plan while you were out.

You even stopped to get ice cream, giving the boys a bite or two each of your own cup.

The day was full of fun and laughter, the sun was bright and the boys were well-behaved.

When you arrived back to base, you opened your door and set your bags down and put the boys in their playpen when you heard someone clear their throat.

"Y/N..." You turned around to greet the person in your room.

"Laswell, what's wrong?" You saw the solemn look ridden on her face.

"It's John, we need to talk about him."

You had brought her into the kitchen of the compound, brewing some coffee as you both sat down. "I don't really wish to talk about him right now." You said as you scoot your chair in.

"I know what happened, he told me everything. But, there's something you need to know. I know where he is, and I'm worried about him." She looked at you, silently asking you to hear her out. "I know he's not your favorite person but-"

"He disregarded my sexual assault in Dubai and prevented me from reporting it and when I called him out, he walked out on me. On top on everything else he's done, of course he's not my favorite person, he never has been." You were already fired up.

"I know what he did. I found him yesterday in his office, passed out drunk. He had your file pulled up on his computer. When I finally got him up and had him sober up, he spilled everything. He was crying. John doesn't cry Y/N." Laswell was trying to get to you through your emotions. You weren't falling for that.

"Why would I give a shit?"

"I've never seen you this fired up over him, there's something you're not telling me." That motherly tone is back. Your mind went to his kind smile, the gentle look in his eyes.

"He let me in." Your voice was quiet.

"Excuse me?!"

"When I brought the boys to him, hoping to find some help or answers, he wasn't the man I've come to know through my time of service. He wasn't Captain Price anymore, I saw John. He was kind and warm and gentle. He was sweet to me and helped with the boys, always letting me rest. I saw his smile, and the look in his eyes was unlike anything I've seen before. I've had a glimpse and now I'll never see it again." You felt hot tears sting your cheeks.

"I wouldn't say that." Laswell shook her head. "There is so much you don't know about him dear, you should go talk to him."

"I can't even look at him after he walked out."

"Give him a chance to explain himself." Laswell put her hand on yours. "Let him tell you for himself."

Your eyes widened at the gesture. "Tell me what?"

"What's got him so in his head. Please." She begged you to go see your Captain in his office. After some convincing and more tears, you finally gave in, just to get her off of you.

Your footsteps were loud in your ears as you approached his door, knocking lightly. There was no response. You slowly turned the doorknob, entering the room, closing the door behind you.

You froze at the sight before you. There were files all over his desk, most of them with your name on it. Your Captain was sitting with his head in his hands. "Captain?" Your voice was meek.

His head shot up, wide eyes staring into you. You could see the bags under his eyes, his eyes red from crying. He had a bottle of bourbon on his desk, only a droplet or two left in it. "Laswell said you had something to tell me." You said, not wanting to make anymore eye contact.

He remained silent, the room thick with it. You heard him stand from his chair, but you remained with your gaze on your shoes. "I-" He began. "I won you the case."

That's when your head snapped up. "What?"

"The Dubai case. With that guy. I, uh, I filed everything together and he's being put in jail."

You were confused. "You're 3 years too late."

"It's taken me three years." His words cut you deep. "I went straight to Shephard and Laswell when we got back from the mission. I filed a case against him in your name."

You stood dumbfounded. "That doesn't explain the way you reacted, nor the way you walked out on me." You were still hurt. You couldn't forgive him.

"Understandable." He sniffled as he began to fiddle with the files on his desk. "There's no excuse for the way I reacted, but you do deserve an explanation." He cleared his throat and looked up at you. When you didn't say anything, he continued. "When you came to me about it, at first I didn't think anything of it. I had a lot of female soldiers doing that to me that trip just so they could get sent home early or get a fat check. I caught them lying and they'd immediately back down. My mind told me you were doing the same thing." He takes in a shaky breath. "That was until I came to find you one morning and caught you changing. You were putting your shirt on when I saw your bruising. It looked like you had been beaten, I watched your walls come up that day and I watched you cower into a shell of yourself. That's when I know you were telling the truth."

"Why didn't you say anything?" You spoke up.

He sighed and took a second to collect himself, on the verge of tears. "I knew the statistics of women winning these types of cases, especially with the lack of proof. I snuck pictures of you to document your marks, and I asked every soldier I could to find a witness. No one came forward. The case would've never won, and I knew that. That's why I never said anything to you, I couldn't stand to watch you feel the pain of not getting the justice you deserved. Shephard and Laswell told me how poor the evidence was, and the three of us spent years trying to dig up anything we could." He paused, pulling out a piece of paper. "6 months ago, a witness came forward. That put the case over the edge and we won. I found out this morning."

You scanned the paper, the woman was a victim of the same man, same situation. Reading over it, you related to every word. This woman won you the case. "So what's your reasoning behind you being an asshole the entire time I've worked with you? Even as a Lieutenant yourself, you were always an asshole to me."

Price sighs, then walks around his desk to face you. "I was angry. All these years, I've been angry. Before my promotion, when I met you, you were just a Sergeant. I watched you in the field and around the male soldiers and I felt angry. I knew you'd be a problem and I knew I'd have to deal with it."

"Then why did you invite me to join the 141?" You were confused.

"The anger only multiplied when your case came to be, I was angry at the thought you'd lose and the son of a bitch who hurt you would still be loose to hurt others. I've been angry with you all these years because I knew one of these days, I'd run the risk of losing my rank." Price took a step towards you. "I was angry at the thought of losing you."

You continued to stare at him in confusion. "What're you on about?"

"I would never be able to have you the way I want, it'd be frowned upon." Your eyes widened.

"What do you mean?" You took a step backwards as his hand cupped your face.

"You haunt me. Your smile, your eyes. The way you laugh from your chest. My dreams are littered with images of you, reminding me of what I can't have."

"Why can't you 'have me'? I'm on your squad?" You were oblivious to his insinuations, confused as could be.

"Because I could never ask you to love a man you hate."

His words shook you to your core. "I love you Y/N, I have since I found you out in that shack in the mountains abandoned by your unit. I love the way you effortlessly care for others, the way your perfume lingers in a room. As soon as I thought I had suppressed by feelings, you show up at my door with three children. Yes, they're our coworkers, but I couldn't help but see the big picture. I see the way you interact with them, the way you molded into this figure that had nothing but admiration and love. It was so different from the woman I know in the field, the woman behind the rank."

He was staring into your eyes when it all hit you.

The way you played images of him shirtless that one night you opened the door, his kind smile, his gentle eyes. The way you dreamed of him in the kitchen cooking for you.

You loved him too.

You glanced down to his lips and without another word, John pulled you into a kiss. Your lips molded into his, his kiss warm and passionate. He kissed you like he'd never get to again.

The kiss slowed down time, and all you could think of was his hands holding you tightly against him like you'd disappear if he let go.

"John..." You said as you backed away. "I love you too, I've missed you." He kissed you again before sliding his hand down to hold yours.

"Let's go home."

The ride was silent back to the compound, even as you both approached your room. Laswell left with a nod and a wink to you.

You thanked your lucky stars you listened to her.

All three boys looked up at John from the playpen, wide eyed. Gaz began to cry as John swooped him up and comforted him. "They missed you too. It was tough doing this alone."

"I'm so sorry I walked out, I should've told you then and there, stayed around."

"You're here now." You smiled up at him as he leaned in to plant yet another kiss to your lips. You giggled as you heard Gaz giggle and Soap and Ghost let out little babbles and flailed their arms in excitement. John chuckled too.

"Do you think they saw this coming?" He asked.

"Probably." You moved to go change into your pajamas, John doing the same. Coming out of his bathroom, you saw him shirtless and wearing his signature flannel pants. You took in a deep breath.

"Like the view? Cause, I'm loving mine. C'mere." John sat on the edge of his bed as his hands ran over your thighs. "Do you feel comfortable sleeping here? Or do you still want the couch?"

You thought for a moment. "Can I have one more night on the couch?"

"Whatever makes you feel at home." John smiled as he crawled back into bed, wishing you a goodnight.

You smiled back as you climbed under the blankets on the couch. As much as you wanted to sleep next to him, it was intimidating for you. You needed to muster up the courage to be that close to him like that.

For now, you were just happy you found your feelings for him and you learned how his behavior all these years was because he was fighting for your honor.

You had John back, and that's all you could ask for.

[brucewaynehater101]

Oh, I have a thought about the Eldritch Gotham AU! Maybe it's the City who resurrects Jason (because let's face it, the superboy prime punch thing is crazy even by DC standards). My thoughts are:

Jason dies off city limits. This is important, because there's absolutely nothing Gotham could have done to prevent this. It's also a betrayal of sorts to her. "Oh, Bruce is not enough so you ditch Gotham to go to your 'real mom' I see how it is".

Still, he's buried in Gotham's soil. Bruce is broken, Batman is straying from the mission in his grief. There's a new robin trying to help him but he's untrained and Gotham protects her vigilantes, but Jesus, she's working overtime now. The circumstances and motivation is there.

Gotham straight up makes a deal with Bruce: the life of his child but one of them must always remain within her limits. They are allowed to leave (for missions, business) but they must all live in Gotham and there must always be a Bat in the city. Bruce accepts because, honestly, there's no price he wouldn't pay.

Now here's the interesting part: Bruce may already have some experience with Gotham as a living entity (maybe he's aware of the boons she's granted him) or he's still unaware. Most likely scenario is that he dismisses the entire thing as a dream either way (too good to be true). But you could have a really funny moment of Bruce driving in the middle of the night to the cemetery with a shovel so he can meet Jason halfway.

Jason does come back catatonic and I think in this period of time he's being tested by Gotham "Do you really want this? Are you going to run from me the next time someone dangles candy in your face?". Bruce has signed his deal, but Jason needs to agree too.

If Bruce picked him from the graveyard or Jason comes to an agreement with Gotham quickly he could skip the entire LoA plot (maybe he trains with them later, but no pit madness!). I think there would still be angst though, particularly about Bruce agreeing in the name of everyone. Especially because the Joker is still free, so you could have done all that only for him to die again.

Tim would be Robin all through Jason's catatonia but once he wakes up he'd immediately give it up. I don't think Jason would take it (he died in those colors), but there would be tension and competition between them. Jason would resent Tim for being so good at following rules (or at least pretending to), and Tim would feel inadequate next to the guy that got resurrected by Gotham

Basically, Jason thinks Tim is B's favorite and Tim think

I've been excited about answering this ^^

Since it got cut off, imma just link this post to the second one and answer the second one.

Imma back edit this so there's a link to the second one as well ^^

[serendertothesquad]

Seren's Studies: Odd Squad UK -- "Should Odd Acquaintance Be Forgot" Episode Followup, Part 4

Well...halfway through the episode now. Taking it as it goes, but man, people, shit's hard.

Below the break.

(A post-editing note: I was informed that Leonie is, in fact, a girl, and not a boy like I thought. I'm keeping the LGBTQ+ theory because we've already gotten gay triangle villain and they could extend that to child villains too, but keep in mind that Leonie is a girl and not a boy. That's my bad.)

I will choose to pass this as "Onom explained how the gadgets work on the way here".

Just...for the sake of my rapidly-decreasing sanity.

Ohhhhhhh...huh. So that's where that final scene in the gadget competition results video comes from. I mean hey, they got balls to give us a teaser, at the very least.

But also, is this meant to be this precinct's equivalent to the Odd Squad Warehouse? And if so, why are all of these adult construction workers here? If this goes to the outside, and this area is not a part of the precinct's HQ, then I have a hell of a lot of questions.

"Is it 'get a pizza'?"

Ahhhhh Ozzie...you poor schmuck. Stuck with a goofy scientist and a stoic-in-name-only Security agent who are both fixated on food when chaos is running rampant in town. Surprised he doesn't rescind his temporary leadership based on that alone!

So throughout this franchise, we've gotten blue, green, red, and now purple blobs.

If they keep going with a yellow and an orange one, we can get the whole damn rainbow.

"So what's next for you three?"

Regretting their past actions and contrived stupidity?

See, at least Obbs had plans for world domination, and then domination of another planet.

These three? Fucking amateur hour, and I'd honestly love if some Odd Squad agent went, "Okay, so then what?"

Really, this is just the cameraman being really bad at his job.

Not...not the show's cameraman. The newscast's cameraman.

THIS WAS N O T HIM FUCKING ABANDONING THEM!!!!!! DON'T YOU FUCKING GET IT?!?!?!?!?!

I'm just...I'm weak...I'm so fucking weak...Tasha, you're fucking killing me.

"But...I panicked" NO BRO. YOU COULDN'T HANDLE THE FUCKING PRESSURE. GET SOME GODDAMN TRAINING, P R O P E R TRAINING, AND COME BACK.

"You think we're masterminds?"

Well I sure as hell don't, considering you don't know how to read a fucking book.

I...what??? Just like that??? ARE YOU FUCKING K I D D I N G M E . Y'ALL ARE GONNA FORGIVE HIM JUST LIKE T H A T ?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Okay, look. I've heard complaints about The Shadow's reformation being too quick. Personally, I disagree, especially when you stack it up against whatever in the assfuck this is. The Shadow, at least, had a moment of doubt before she was fully reformed and accepted Opal's apology -- and the acceptance wasn't just because of status quo; it was sisterly love and appreciation. These three just go "oop well okay sure, you're forgiven" with the only doubt being about what they've done, with Ozzie giving a half-hearted speech that has no impact.

This shit? IS SO FUCKING ASS AND WE ONLY HAVE THREE MINUTES LEFT TO GO. I've never wanted to fire a lightsaber into my eyeballs more.

Ohhhhhhhhh...so just...exactly like the pienado...

Dad, give me the lightsa- GIVE ME THE LIGHTSABER.

No. On five million levels. NO.

Yes, even with Orli asking if they're on the heroes' side now.

FUCK YOU. A MILLION FUCK YOU'S. UPON YOU AND YOUR FAMILY. DISHONOR ON YOU. DISHONOR ON YOUR FAMILY. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

Usually I don't mind Orli's self-aware shit. Here, however, it's grating.

Onom deciding to go get pizza instead of, y'know, helping out is grating too. At the very least, though...he's in the Side Character Bin where he belongs, just as God intended.

Yes, "did I miss anything?" be damned.

Ah yes, resurrection. If I imagine myself as Directors having that innate power because they can live for millennia, it actually makes this better.

Wh...I'm sorry, WHAT?????? This precinct was facing a serious lack of agents and now you're sending the one agent that was brought here to boost numbers awa- OH. OHHHHHHHHHHHH NO I NEED MY WONDER DRUGS. WHERE'S MY TYLENOL. WHERE IS MY ADVIL. WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH-

BAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA THIS GUY COULDN'T FUCKIN' STAND BEING ALONE SO HE DECIDED TO ROPE ORLI BACK INTO GOING TO NIAGARA FALLS??????

JUST MAKE HIM PART OF YOUR PRECINCT CAPTAIN O OH MY G O D .

"Turns out there's a lot of oddness back home."

How the fuck does he know?! He lives IN A CAVE BEHIND A WATERFALL. W H A T FUCKING ODDNESS DOES HE HAVE-

*long sigh* This finale was tolerable before it started slipping into "the US government's new form of torture for most-wanted criminals". Having the falls turn into chicken soup is not a wake-up call. It's an isolated incident. THIS MEANS NOTHING.

I- and...and just like that??? He accepts it?!?!?!?!

I'm...my body hurts. My soul hurts. We're really just doing anything and everything to wrap this up in 11 minutes and I hate it. God, at least Olando actually got a whole-ass resolution to his problem by making the decision to stay, even if things were handled poorly. This is just...straight ass!

ooooooooooh she said the line oooooooooooooooh- shoost me. shoost me fast. shoost me hard. all the way to the moon.

I AM GOD, AND I FROWN UPON THE SIN THAT IS THIS ENTIRE FUCKING EPISODE.

There is absolutely no fuckin' chicken soup that can heal my broken-ass soul, Osgood.

Why the music is cut off, too, I will never understand. And fuck this whole.

And your credits for this episode, for what might be the final time.

-------------------------

Overall...oh my God. I think the followup speaks well enough for itself, but in case it wasn't clear, let me lay it down for you in a single image.

God I've been itching to use that image for a month. Really any image to add to my text reactions, but...Tumblr's photo limit.

Pretty much everything about this finale was a trainwreck, to the point where it makes "Odd Together Now" look valid enough for a Peabody. From the villains' motives, to Ozzie making up with them, to how the conflict is resolved, to the ending...all of it was the most shit-laden thing I have ever had to sit through in the nearly 10 years I've been with this franchise, and to dive into it in-depth requires another essay entirely. There are a select few funny bits, I will admit, but nothing particularly redeeming about it.

I'm going to dash some hopes now while I'm on a bitch streak: if you think this finale's abrupt ending means we're going to get another season, stop hoping. Please, I am begging you, stop hoping. Abrupt endings are very common for this franchise, and just because the finale has one doesn't mean we're getting a continuation. Of course, I could be wrong, and maybe PBS will see that it might be doing numbers and decide to greenlight another go, but given their track record with Odd Squad favoritism-wise, I don't see that happening. And if it does happen...well, maybe it's just the cynic in me, but I don't think it'll get better, even if we get more than 12 episodes. Ever hear of the complaint that video games should take as long to make as is needed for the game to be good? This season/series was made in the span of a year, and it's crystal-clear that's not enough time to make a season perfect regardless of episode count. Whether the rush was due to the 10th anniversary or not is up in the air, but I'd have been fine with waiting another year or so and having something else be done for the 10th anniversary. However long it takes, so we don't get the slop that this was.

My disappointment expands beyond the cosmos. It is, by every conceivable piece of mathematical knowledge, beyond immeasurable. And my entire fucking Spoopy Month has been ruined by people who can't recognize the signs of franchise rot.

*deep breath* Now that that's out of the way, some future plans: I'm currently working on a few more Seren's Studies, including my overall thoughts on the series/season as well as a study on PBS Kids and how they treat Odd Squad. Expect those soon, hopefully.

For now, I need to take a shower, scream, cry, and melt into a puddle. And then sleep. Preferably for half a millennium, whereupon I will wake up and then promptly Google "what happened to odd squad".

Oh, and if you've been reading these...thank you. These have been crazy fun to make, whether I have a good time or a bad one. Screaming into a mic is better, but banging keys works just as well. Stay tuned.

Seren out.

[rawliverandcigarettes]

For the fanfic director's commentary, I'd love to hear your thought process behind Anetha—especially (if you're willing to share) hints about her side of the story post–Chapter 8 of Halfway Home. If that's too spoilery or involved, more general rambles about Chapter 8 would be cool as well!

Hey thank you so very much for the ask!! I'm super sorry about the time it took me to get to it!!

Actually, I kind of wanted to have Chapter 17 out so I could dive deeper into her psychology without revealing anything about her attitude towards The Event and without spoiling anyone. But now it’s done, it’s here, it’s messy: I think we have enough pieces to start unraveling what’s going on in her brain.

That being said, spoilers for Halfway Home below for those who may dabble --and beyond the plot spoilers: I think that if you want to keep your opinion on Anetha neutral, or decide for yourself first by reading the whole thing and then potentially coming back, it might be a wise thing to do so because we're truly vivisecting my girl in the reply.

(edit post me writing the answer to the ask: WOW I rambled like CRAZY, so also beware that I do ramble like crazy oops)

So Anetha… Honestly kind of appeared in the story as I was drafting it?

The very very first draft that I ever did, that was actually in French (!), initially only explored Rhanda and Shandri (and Rhanda and Nagatha used to be the same person too), and Anetha was added compulsively because I felt like there was a giant room for conflict begging for someone to take up that space and act a little cooler and more rebellious than the rest of the cast, and that Shlee needed that sort of energy in his life (though the stakes were much lower at the time –or rather, they were as bad, but I had yet to understand just *how bad*). I think that, partially because she erupted into the story rather than being carefully placed there, she was the first character to click for me and the rare beta-readers at the time. Her motivations and psychology didn’t really change since 2017, I merely streamlined them over the course of the drafts –the scenes with Anetha in the spotlight may hold the prize for highest percentage of scenes that barely changed since draft 1 actually!

In the first draft, the breaking point between Shlee and Anetha used to happen in much more defused way. The moment when they were separated was extremely different: chapter 8 used to have a much more traditional Mass Effect flair and involved an attack by batarian slavers, fucking Jondum Bau was there (fun fact: Accano used to be Jondum Bau for a very long time –Accano is actually the conglomerate of two different turian characters that were both scrapped, Jondum Bau and Mordin Solus that were all squished into the blackpink icon that we know and love the slightly unnerving STG agent with a Mission TM), and Shlee was forcefully separated from Anetha during the attack.

Then, it was while Shlee tried to contact her from Omega that the first seeds of doubt about her intentions were planted, especially since the story used to have one of Anetha’s exes showing up and trashtalking the hell out of what she was like as a girlfriend, forcing Shlee to see his sister from an outside perspective for the first time (I still kept her setup in Chapter 3 because I think it still reveals some of these dysfunctions and they're interesting as a pattern). Then, there was the “hey” scene, that cemented the fact that Shlee kind of hated her guts now.

Beyond the fact that I made strides to make the story punchier and more compact by dropping a lot of storylines, and this could be condensed significantly while making my point clearer (deepening not widening etc), I decided that dropping the attack for something that was much more… mundane, in a way, helped to reveal an uglier interior facet of Anetha’s brain –though one that I, sadly, believe to be much more relatable than it may seem at first glance.

(I mean, traveling semi-illegally via a spaceship that side-hustles by smuggling batarian refugees from point A to point B and then being caught by border control is not exactly a regular or normal occurrence, but it could have just been a weird anecdotal bleep on their journey if Shlee didn’t brutally discover that he has much more in common with these batarians than his sister through his absence of administrative existence and being, therefore, inherently illegal).

.

So I’m going to be relatively vague with the details since Anetha will be dissected further both in The Empire of Preys (though not a lot since she was younger and kind of existing in the background) and Override (where she will be a PoV character yaaay I’m excited for thaat), but to keep it simple: Anetha’s circumstances were already messy as hell before Shlee even showed up.

This is all hinted at in Chapter 8, but I do get into deeper details here, so… vague spoilers? I don’t think they are, but I do expose the events from her perspective, which I didn’t really do before so beware!

The relationship of her birth mother Priin and Rhanda was very complicated (and not even because of Rhanda!! wow), forcing Anetha to build up huge emotional walls to protect herself from her mother’s wild strides in the mental health department since she was a child, culminating in the moment where she had to take care of a SA emergency all by herself –leading to Rhanda taking the ONE (1) good responsible decision of her life and breaking up with Priin, which unfortunately led her to become unstable and distant and then pushed her to the breaking point when Priin ended up taking her own life years later, even though they had not spoken in years.

So Anetha was holed up to her aunt (not yet a bajillionaire at the time) and her weird human boyfriend while the only parent she had left went to fuck off somewhere to avoid exploding in front of her daughter and making the damage even worse. Anetha hated that move, feeling abandoned and burdensome and reacting by becoming as spiteful as she could towards her Dad, especially when said Dad returned with a small child and another failed relationship, a child she also dumped on her lap to go work on Illium soon after (this moment is much more complicated than this, Anetha understood what she wanted to understand, but TEoP is a lot about that exact moment so I'll keep it vague for now).

And then, just a few years later…… Rhanda returns, pale as a ghost, wrecked with something she will not speak about, only for Anetha to discover that her Dad has a literal stolen child stored in the trunk of their car, then transfered to the bedroom of the apartment they all share.

.

Anetha’s aloofness is a survival strategy. It is basically all she has to defend herself from the people in her life, who should know better yet do not, consuming themselves in extreme behaviors at the slightest opportunity (Priin being Priin, Rhanda being Rhanda, even Nagatha deciding to Uno Reverse the free marketplace and becoming a kingpin for the Great Kapital qualifies I think –I could talk for hours about the two T'selvi sisters and how they mirror each other but that’s what TEoP is for so I will calm down and focus on the ask sorryyy). There’s a reason why Edwood, of all people, is probably the best influence in her life (shoutout to Edwood for being the only normal, not-unhinged person in this entire clusterfuck) and why she took after him so much.

I think what’s complicated with her, is that while she’s developing this whole rebellious, no-strings-attached, too-cool-for-you persona to master her emotions and avoid hurt at all cost (especially anything tied to abandonment and grief), she’s also constantly put in situations that demand her to be responsible: beyond her upbringing, she was effectively the adult in both Shandri and Shlee’s life for a good chunk of it, as Rhanda was unable to provide the basic necessities of safety and care more often than not. Not to mention: she knows full well her family is doing serious criminal things that nobody bothers explaining to her, and she must shoulder the burden of being put in constant danger for reasons she can’t begin to fathom. Every time she tries to grasp some normalcy in her life, the people who are meant to protect her put everything in disarray, and then demand her to be mature and practical and unflinching as if that’s, like, a reasonable thing to ask of a teenager forced to brace through the notion that everyone she loves is being tracked down by government officials. Even something as simple as her last name, she’s asked to abandon.

So THEN comes Shlee, and this makes everything so much more complicated for her.

Shlee is the literal representation of everything going wrong in her life: a growing organism forcefully brought in from outside; alien, diseased, destroying every safety net she may have built for herself, soaking up Rhanda’s attention as well as being the direct reason her Dad became the most deranged version of herself to date, something that may drop dead if not cared for correctly, and worst of all –something that demands that she acts as an example for his own growth, forcing her into a caretaker role whether she wants to or not through imprinting.

And he will die in like 30-40 years, which, fucking great, that's like in five years for her, and so the last thing she wants to deal with emotionally on top of everything else. So this is why she refuses to engage with him for such a long time: it’s too messed up on too many levels, and she wants to preserve herself from the general madness (understandable honestly).

During the first brush with Accano, Anetha basically has the exact same thought process that would come back to haunt her in that fateful chapter 8: Accano represents the authority of the state. The STG agent may be a maniac that will destroy her and everybody else, or he may be normalcy and order offering her a way out a situation that is getting more and more out of control. Maybe Rhanda did kidnap a salarian child in a crazed frenzy, and the best course of action would be to reunite him with his people.

And what a relief that would be.

So of course, that doesn’t happen and then Shlee starts becoming an actual person in her eyes, one she has to spend time with and care for; in so many words, a new constant in her life. There’s the component of being won over in spite of herself as he becomes sharper, wittier and a partner in their survival and co-raising of Shandri, aaaand of course there’s the other component of Shlee being her only concrete way to get back to Rhanda in any significant way.

She does want to help Shlee become his own person, like Edwood helped her once; her behavior is not manipulative on purpose, but her subconscious also sees this opportunity to take back control over the narrative by overpowering Rhanda’s influence over Shlee’s life and becoming his new reference point, his new everything, in no small part for the spiteful pleasure of ripping the last shreds of stability her Dad still has after being forced to survive her whims for so long. She really wants to sweep Shlee away and save him from Rhanda, preserve him from the unbearable fate of rotting by her side, but Anetha also wants to know that for once in her life, she won’t be the one to mend the pieces of what once was.

.

So OKAY now we’re here (sorry this has basically turned into a short story length-wise, I think this is a result of concentrated blorbo frustration of not being able to talk about them with that level of details accumulating over 7 years; expect the same kind of outbursts once I am allowed to talk about Nagatha, or Jurlan, or even Rhanda in greater details 😭).

Chapter 8. The Citadel Border Control has her brother pinned down as everything he technically is: someone that will inherently destroy her life through the simple fact that he exists. At this point, Anetha’s brain is overridden with the refusal to be shoved back into Rhanda’s crimes kicking and screaming. She’s livid. She feels trapped and overwhelmed, and she’s been training her emotions to initiate shut down upon meeting a critical point of fear, powerlessness and general absence of safety. Empathy is the first thing to go when it comes to protecting herself. Maybe, if Shlee didn’t take the snap decision of running away, she might have calmed down and figured things out with him in a detention cell somewhere, but both of them are basically as emotionally triggered as it gets, and so Anetha shuts down while Shlee panics and makes a drastic decision to not trust her and save himself.

And Anetha does not take kindly to being abandoned and left to puddle in Shlee and Rhanda’s mess Yet Again.

There’s other reasons why she doesn’t reply to his texts to begin with –having to deal with Citadel Border Patrol to begin with, and then more that will be explored in Override. But in essence, once she’s let out, Anetha is pretty much… free. Free to figure herself out without the pressure of her insane family getting in the way (oh no does that sound like someone else we know having a similar character arc somewhere else surely not, a foil in my fanfiction it's more likely than you think etc).

Of course, there’s that pesky guilt and her complete refusal to handle grief in any way, and that feeling does linger, and so her willingness to handle the situation upfront is very much hindered by this (beyond the practical reasons why she might not be able to help). The whole “hey”/”hey” fiasco really does nothing for either for them (I think it was the best she could do and the most she was willing to leave herself open, and Shlee shutting that down meant every single one of her walls was back up and reinforced). The passive-aggressive nature of their conversations through bank expenses made mostly off her own paycheck is also a very bad way to communicate, and most of what Anetha sees for a year are receipts for ridiculously expensive cocktails and cheap bomb shots from Afterlife. Doesn’t really help our frog’s case as far as she’s concerned (even though she does realize it’s probably a bad sign and probably her fault that a shy nerd like him would be taking that hard of a plunge towards alcoholism, regardless of the reasons why –but she’s also pretty much there herself sooo not the best at recognizing the pattern).

Also she’s having mercenary times and they are Bad Times. Doesn’t help with the whole numbness/detachment problem either.

Speaking of Eclipse: the whole mercenary thing comes from that urge of trying to reconcile her desire to be independent and freed of responsibilities with that yearning for safety in a world where she’s always yeeted out of what is normal and safe without her consent anyway, starting with the fact that she’s pureblood and inherently looked as wrong –and just the general romanticizing of herself as a stone-cold badass as a way to one-up Rhanda on her own field, aaaand maybe a little bit a way to feel closer to her/make her react, because to be frank a lot of Anetha’s bullshit is about wanting Rhanda to react to said bullshit and act like a responsible parent, and be there, and not abandon her/de-prioritize her constantly, and be a source of stability rather than an endless distress generator.

(the seed being planted by the mercenaries hired by Nagatha at one of the most stressful points of her life is actually a rather late addition, but I think it works!)

But yeah, Anetha has SO MANY similarities with Rhanda it’s both hilarious and pretty tragic, but I’m really discovering how badly that's the case while working on The Empire of Preys, and… yeah. Generational Trauma. It’s a thing.

To conclude my ridiculously long answer to your ask: I’m sorry I spewed an entire essay about Anetha’s brain, but also I’m so happy you gave me an opportunity to pry her open for everybody to see the gunk there. Honestly a good half of the joy of getting other eyes than mine on Halfway Home is to watch them grapple with their emotions towards Anetha, as she can make herself so easy to love, and then immediately sooo hard to love. But I do love her (but I’m biased since I love literally every character except maybe… like one and a half? fuck içalec all my homies hate içalec), and so I’m really happy you were kind enough to encourage me to deepdive into her edgy brain!!!

[fairydares]

Chasing Tails Chapter Three: Trees and...

AO3 Link; fanfiction.net link ; Chapter 1 on here (you can find the “back of the book”-type summary here or at one of the other links)

Chapter Summary: Natsu finds a tree. Nashi finds Natsu. (Happy voice) And then...!

Author’s Notes:

First and foremost: Chapter 3 took forever for me to publish. Oops.

I genuinely expected zero people to read this, so when it actually got some hits, and I even got kudos, comments, reviews, reblogs, likes, and favorites (Thanks so much! You have no idea how much you guys helped!) I had an, “oh, shit” moment where I realized I actually care about making this story halfway decent. A lot of the work I did went to outlining and research (even though most of the research will be blatantly ignored lol). I hope it will pay off and allow me to publish chapters more frequently, but I have also been busy.

NOW. onto notes that are actually important to the story:

Initially, Layla’s earthbound last name was “Turner.” It was supposed to be her last foster family’s surname. However, I edited and changed it to O’Neil because I realized that made more sense. Sorry for any confusion. I went back and edited a couple other details, too, but nothing too big.

For anyone waiting for smut/lemons, I’m going to try to label chapters with lemons (at least on AO3). We’ll see how that goes. Nothing this chapter.

*Content Warnings:

Almost everything to do with Nashi’s upbringing on Our Earth is a very inaccurate portrayal of CPS, foster care, and the police. I didn’t bother doing deep research on those things because it’s only vaguely relevant to most of the story. Please criticize cops and the failings of the foster care system, just not on the basis of this fic.

Also: Drug & Alcohol abuse mentions; swearing; graphic violence; nausea & puke mentions; ignorant ableism (mostly by Nashi/Layla, whose top personality trait ATM is “just wrong” but still); bullying mentions; death mentions (not any OC’s); discussions of sex.

tbh, most of that’s gonna be standard fare for this fic.

*Tumblr-Specific Tip: I recommend scrolling to the bottom and reading the footnotes first. That way, you won’t need to scroll all over the place. I listed them all with context for this specific purpose.*

----------------------

“This tree is talkin’ to me!” […] “Yes, Great Tree!” - Natsu’s line, Episode 76, English dub [~2:45]

----------------------

“Oi, Mad Cow! If you don’t quit whining and drive faster, I’ll break your damn neck! You hear me?!”

The thick throat bobbed under Natsu’s forearm in response to the growled threat. “Y-yes,” came the hoarse choke. “But…it’s Mad Bull, not—“

“Like I care!” Natsu snarled, managing to hide his vehicular distress behind a scowl he fixed on the little mirror the big bastard’s eyes kept darting to. Sweat crawled down his temples.

It had taken mere minutes for his despair to burn into rage after Nashi left—and it didn’t even happen because of how badly their reunion had gone. The guy Nashi had just finished thrashing had been holding a weird-looking Mini-Comm to his ear as exited the same door she had, too distracted by his conversation to notice the pink-haired man curled wallowing on the ground amidst a scattering of untouched bills.

Natsu would barely have noticed him, either—if he hadn’t caught part of the asshole’s side of the conversation:

“—think I tried that?! The little freak was gone by the time I could sneak into the—yes, I’m fucking sure! How the hell could I miss her pink hair?!”

Natsu had stilled on the ground.

“—sure that’s the little bitch’s apartment building?…Well, whatever…don’t need an exact address, I’ll kick down every door in the damn place till she comes out if I have to, and make sure that whore regrets the day she ever—ARGGHH!”

The hulking man had bellowed in pain as he staggered from the Dragon Slayer’s sucker punch. His weird Min-Comm skidded across the ground, going totally silent as it audibly cracked against the ground.

“YOU’LL PAY FOR THAT, ASSHOLE!” the big man shouted, lunging.

Despite the brand new wave of near-paralyzing vertigo, it had been easy for Natsu to take him down. First, because the loser really was a huge waste of size and strength. Second, because of the rage which had driven him to his feet.

The world had both seared red and spun around him. In the back of his mind, he noted that the dizziness was almost definitely at least partly due to the fact that his fire was trying and failing to rise to the surface. Every attempt at using his Magic in this world, so far, had resulted in shattering dizziness. He didn’t worry about it too much. He wouldn’t have been able to control his Magic, anyway—not when he was this pissed.

After easily slamming the man to the ground, Natsu yanked the bastard’s arm across his back until it trembled on the verge of breaking or (even more likely) dislocating.

“I know I didn’t just hear you call my daughter a whore, you bastard!” he’d hissed, pulling the massive arm an inch further back, barely refraining from ripping it off.

“D-daughter!? You’re—?”

“SHUT UP!”

Natsu had garroted the freak’s throat with his free arm and chuckled darkly when he spluttered and gagged. He’d thought quickly, fighting his ongoing dizziness for clarity.

“Right. You’re going to take me to Nashi’s apartment. Now! Then you’ll get lost and stay lost, you got it?!”

“N-Nashi? Who the fuck—?”

“THE GIRL YOU WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT, MORON!”

He’d been forced to accept a car ride—very reluctantly, giving in only when Mad Cow had spluttered that it would take them hours to walk to Nashi’s building.

Now, sitting in a moving car yet retaining the wherewithal to keep the guy’s throat locked under his arm from the back seat, he remained as creeped out as he’d been at the beginning of the journey. He’d always thought it would be awesome if he could ride in a vehicle without getting sick, that Wendy was basically a miracle-worker whenever she used Troia to help him out.

Now, under these circumstances, with his heightened senses stolen from him—Natsu found himself disturbed as hell by his ability to keep his wits in a dreaded moving Magical Vehicle.

It made an awful kind of sense, though. Whatever this world did to Magic sucked so much out of you, Dragon Slayers even had their motion sickness reduced. Maybe to the point they didn’t have it at all, eventually, if Nashi’s ability to ride a Magicycle was anything to go by.

In any case, Natsu’s nausea was still pretty bad—but not so bad he had to let go of Mad Cow, which was good because the asshole had already tried to attack him once, when Natsu was reluctantly oozing into the car. The bastard paid for it with a head slam that created a small crack in his Magical Vehicle’s window. As satisfying as his scream of pain and frustration had been, it had tested Natsu’s already overtaxed temper. He couldn’t hurt the guy badly enough that he couldn’t take Natsu where he needed to go, but boy did he want to.  

Sweat slithered down his face, stomach rocking persistently, but he managed to hide his strain until the car finally swished and jerked to a halt across the road from a medium-tall, crummy building. With a trembling, meaty hand, Mad Cow pushed the stick he’d been holding forward between the two front seats then quickly lifted his hands like a robber.

“W-we’re here…” he sniveled.

Natsu glanced around, eyes narrowing as they briefly latched onto the Magicycle gleaming under a street lamp before returning to meet Mad Cow’s beady gaze in the little mirror. “Right.” He pulled his arm tighter against the thick throat, relishing the distressed-sounding gargles he got in response and the way a Vulcan-ish hand started clawing uselessly at his arm. “If you even think of laying a hand on my daughter again, I’ll flay you alive! You got that?!”

Natsu had to let up on Mad Cow’s throat just enough to hear the wheezed affirmative, wishing badly that he had his fire so he could brand this freak with the threat. There was something in the way those dark eyes gleamed and darted around that he didn’t trust.

But he didn’t have the option, and his stomach was rocking violently. The lump on Mad Cow’s head and the crack in his Magical Vehicle’s window would have to suffice. If he got any ideas about trying something, Natsu would be nearby to protect her, anyway.

“Good!” For the first time in living memory, Natsu was able to stagger right out of a Magical Vehicle and stay standing, albeit by the skin of his damn teeth. He scowled after the car as threateningly as he could as it roared away. Only after it had screeched around a corner did the Dragon Slayer double over to groan in agony.

After recovering, he stared up at the apartment building for a minute, somber and contemplative. So. This was where his daughter lived. Angry shouting emanated from broken windows, slurry arguments, violent threats, and the sounds of loud sex layered over each other. A man puked on the cracked bricks of the building’s side. From the dark alley of the other side, a pair of shiny eyes stared at him unblinkingly.

Lucy would have blown her top if she found out their daughter had been living in a place like this. Natsu couldn’t say the looks of the place was doing his blood pressure any favors, either.

Noting the location of the building, he’d hobbled off in search of food. As reluctant as he was to lose walk away from where Nashi was, passing out from hunger wasn’t going to help either of them. Fortunately, he’d thought to grab the money Nashi threw on the ground and shove it in his pocket just before ordering Mad Cow to make sure his Magic Vehicle didn’t shake too much. An order which had made the bastard splutter excuses about how “that was impossible!” and which he had not obeyed.

Natsu panicked slightly when he realized everything Nashi had given him only a couple hundred jewel-things. But when he found an open food stand (with wheels?! What sick bastard combined something so beloved with something so terrible?!) he sighed in relief upon reading the low prices. Jewel-whatevers went further here, obviously.

He proceeded to cheerfully order all the spiciest things on the menu until he was out of money. He wished it was Lucy or Mira’s cooking—and that it came with his usual side of fire, but the food was tasty enough. Nothing could could clear his head or perk him up like good grub. He felt much better as he hobbled away from the wheeled food stand, waving back at the beaming (and oddly weeping?) family talking excitedly in a language he didn’t understand.

Still, being clearheaded wasn’t as much fun as usual, at the moment. He brooded as he ambled back to the dumpy building, the truth sinking in like a rock in a pond.

Nashi didn’t believe him. Not just about the fact he was her dad, but about��anything. Hell, she didn’t even go by the name “Nashi.” Natsu could sort of start to understand how she’d come to be called “Layla”, seeing as it was her middle name. He worried about the specifics of the name change, though. Fairy Tail’s Strongest Team had had to use fake names on a few missions, mainly to infiltrate dangerous groups and take them down from inside.

Another guildmate who’d used fake identities in the past was Jellal (now the official Master of Fairy Tail’s Branch Guild, Crime Sorcière). Aside from playing Mystogan back when he’d been a fugitive, he’d done it mainly to prevent enemies from retaliating against Fairy Tail or his family. Then there was Mest, who Natsu was pretty sure still did spy things for the guild, but thankfully didn’t manipulate his own memories any more. None of the reasons he could think of for why Nashi might be hiding behind an alias made him feel too good, especially after his encounter with Mad Cow.

Even more concerning was the fact that Magic didn’t exist here. That you were considered insane if you mentioned it at all. Even Nashi, one of only two born Dragon Slayers in history, thought so. What the hell was he even supposed to do with that?! He couldn’t even protect her from whatever had forced her to take the name “Layla.”

He stopped in front of her apartment building and scowled up at it for the second time, struggling to think straight enough to come up with a plan with how physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted he was.

It was supposed to be simple: find Nashi and everyone else who vanished into those portals, then bring them home. Since the day they all vanished, that had been his main goal. Hell, it was the self-appointed mission of pretty much all the Mages left in Fiore—most of whom had also lost at least one person close to them to the mysterious portals which erupted across the country. Natsu had achieved the first part of the mission only for Nashi herself to become a new obstacle. In every possible way, he was lost.

His head felt like it was going to split. The pain made it even harder to think clearly. But standing there, Natsu did manage to draw one important yet unfortunate conclusion: kicking down the door to his daughter’s apartment building and yelling her name till he found her was almost certainly a bad idea.

He sulked at the realization. That was exactly what he wanted to do. Patience had never been his strong suit, and he was barely clinging to it at all after finding his daughter only to immediately learn she was in danger and living in a shit-hole. It was only what wisdom he’d gained as a grown man, a husband, and a father that allowed him to accept all he was likely to get from chasing her down again tonight was another kick—not to mention a lower chance of ultimately convincing her he was her dad. Something he had no chance of figuring out how to do when he was this tired and frayed.

Eventually, reluctantly, he headed to the park across the street from her house.

Or, uh, maybe a park? he wondered, eyeing all the dirty, bedraggled people curled up on benches or over the grass. Maybe travelers of some kind, seeing as some of them were in tents not too unlike the one he and Lucy had started bringing on missions after they’d started getting frisky. So long ago, now, but he could remember like it was yesterday.

He chuckled to himself at the thought and suffered the wave of ensuing (decidedly less-than-pure) homesickness. The breeze cooled Natsu’s skin pleasantly as he scanned for a good spot to rest for the night, quickly spotting a tree with wide branches.

He didn’t particularly like dozing in trees, preferring to spread out and/or cuddle Lucy as much as possible. But being able to was a skill that came in handy as a Mage—especially for S-Class missions that required initial reconnaissance.

Besides. In terms of this “mission”, the tree’s largest branch also happened to overlook Nashi’s apartment building. Even from here, Natsu could see her Magicycle gleaming beneath its street lamp, well in-sight of the tree branch he had his eye on. From there, he could watch over her.

“Oi, watch it!” someone snapped when he tripped over them on his way over to the tree.

“Oops, sorry! My bad, man!”

The tree bark was merciless against his palms. He grimaced at the trouble his knee gave him going up and grunted as he pulled himself onto the wide branch.

“This sucks,” he grumbled, shaking out his arms and glaring at his bloody, dirty knuckles. An entire lifetime of training dedicated to both his Magic and his body. Now he couldn’t even punch a couple people without exposing bone, could barely climb to the lowest branch of a damn tree. He wondered idly if this is how Loke felt when he’d remained on Earthland for such a long time.

He wondered how Nashi must have felt, when she landed here. How hard it must have been for her. At least she hadn’t been all alone. Even if Harley couldn’t fly, now, Nashi had confirmed they’d been together. The thought provided a sliver of comfort.

He settled his back against the trunk and peered out over his left shoulder, pleased he’d been right: from the perch he’d found, he had a clear view of Nashi’s Magicycle and apartment building perfectly. The nearly empty road between them sat like a dark and eerily still, silent river far below. Which apartment was hers? Could she look back at him, if she stood at a window?

“I’m keeping my promise,” he vowed softly, staring at the apartment building. “No matter what, I’m taking you home, Nashi.” He sniffled a bit, swiping the tears from his cheeks before they could wet his smiling lips.

Natsu crossed his arms behind his head and fell into a rather easy sleep, considering the bruises and aches on his weakened body.

----------------------

Thud!

 She fell back to the ground with a cry of surprise and pain. A small one—the squeaky cry of a child no older than five. Frustrated tears gathered in her eyes. She groaned, propping her elbows beneath her and squeezing warm dirt between her fingers.

 A huff met her ears, and she lifted her eyes to focus on the person strutting towards her. It wasn’t until he stopped right in front of her, blocking the sun with his head, that she could make him out. A scowling boy. Bigger than her, older, with hair the color of midnight.

 It was when she noticed the edges of his form shimmering under the sun that Layla realized she was dreaming.

 It had been a while since she’d had this dream…

 The bright scent of fire and the smell of coming rain hung strong in her nostrils, so sharp they were breathtaking. So sharp they kept her in the dream despite her awareness of it. The combination of scents was inexplicably comforting. Familiar.

 The boy crossed his arms over his bare chest, grunting irritably. “Would you quit?! Jeez! How many times have I told you to quit following me around, ya damn pest!?”

 “Too bad!” she growled, still trying to get up. Her arms and legs weighed about a thousand pounds, and she wound up flumping backwards with a groan. “I-I’m gonna beat you, I swear!”

He rolled his eyes. “You mean like you said you were gonna yesterday? And the day before yesterday? And the day before that? And then also the—“

 “Shut up!” Her cheeks burned. “Today’s gonna be different!

 “You get that I’m, like, way older than you, right?”

 “So what?!”

 “So I’m bigger and stronger, that’s what!”

 She groaned, pushed again. Once more, she fell. This time her head thumped against the dirt.

 Concern peeked through the boy’s scowl, his arms dropping back to his sides. “Oi! Take it easy for once, would you?”

She ignored him. “Get up!” she growled, fighting back tears of frustration. “I always get back up!”  Moving her legs was like swimming through sand. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get them under herself. Finally, her frustration boiled over, and she stabbed a finger at the boy. “GET UP!”

 “YOU’RE THE ONE THAT’S ON THE GROUND!” [*1]

 He took a couple deep breaths. However, it became clear his efforts to calm himself didn’t work when he exploded, “Why do you wanna beat me so bad anyway, huh?! I mean, the hell’d I ever do to you?!”

“It’s not that!” she groaned, still pushing. “It’s not like you did anything! I wanna beat you because…because you’re so strong! If I wanna be the best, I can’t waste time fighting a bunch of babies! If I wanna be the best, I gotta be able to beat the best!”

 She could feel his gaze on her as she finally managed to push herself to her hands and knees, breathing heavily.

 He huffed again, and this time, the sound was less annoyed. “That’ll never happen,” he chuckled, then sighed. “Damn…you really are a pest, you know that, Nashi?”

 Just as she gritted her teeth, preparing to stand, a hand appeared in front of her face. She looked up in surprise to find the boy smiling down at her. The irritation in those strange, clear blue eyes—fringed in long, dark lashes—had softened into an exasperated sort of fondness. His outline was clearer, now. Less shimmery. “Well? Thought you said you were gonna beat me. Can’t do that from down there, can you?”

----------------------

It was when she took the sparkly Edward Cullen child’s hand that she woke up. Always then.

Awareness of the pain in her battered body slammed into her like the morning’s white light against her eyelids. Groaning, she flung an arm over her eyes only to hiss when the movement tugged at muscles stiffer than cold taffy. Harley stirred at Layla’s abrupt movement, a purr emanating into her side. Her joints throbbed as did the underside of her right jaw.

She could tell from the din of traffic floating through her closed window that it was past time to get up. She’d had an absolute shit of a time falling and staying asleep the previous night, but she couldn’t afford laziness now, when the Championship fight was less than a week out [*2].

Unlike most fighters of Layla’s caliber, she didn’t have top-notch sparring partners, a doctor, or a nutritionist at her beck and call. She didn’t have money to throw around so she could pay other people to make her the best; she didn’t even get paid anywhere near as much as the assholes she fought, whenever they won a fight. Hell, she didn’t even have one coach any more. She was the best because she woke up earlier, trained harder, gave more, and aimed higher. It was up to her. Her alone. It’d always been that way.

And yet…that morning, for a few longing minutes, she tried to let sleep keep her. She clung to the details of the years-forgotten dream, heart pinching inexplicably as they faded despite her best efforts, like smoke slipping through her fumbling fingers. The smell of fire and coming rain were swamped by the pungent odor of sweaty clothes and kitty litter. The echo of the boy’s voice slipped away beneath the sounds of traffic and the couple next door’s shouting.

Unfortunately, the one part of the dream she wanted to forget—the detail she’d stewed over all night—stuck to the front of her brain like it’d been superglued:

 “Damn…you really are a pest, you know that, Nashi?”

 …Nashi…

That damn name.

Rage Layla had been too tired to fully realize the previous night boiled up in her chest as “NASHI” screen-savered through her head, the memory of that homeless, pink-haired wingnut popping up between the floating words like a bad jump scare. She gripped her bedsheets with swollen, lilac knuckles and clenched her teeth so hard, they creaked like they were going to break.

Why? she fumed silently, struggling to swallow the hot, frustrated scream clawing its way up her throat—only because she didn’t want to scare Harley. Fucking WHY?

It was bad enough that she’d stewed over the bizarre encounter until the not-so-wee hours of morning, unable to sleep thanks to her shithead roommate and her “friends” making a bunch of sounds she’d never wanted to hear in her goddamn life! (Not to mention the conversation she overheard between two of Gracie’s creep-ass “guests” right outside her bedroom door, two guys egging each other to “get the pink-haired girl involved in the fun” until Gracie lured them back to the living room—lucky for them.) But when she’d finally started to drift off, she’d sworn not to think of the incident until after her fight four days from now.

That’s right...she thought grimly. Four days.

The Championship.

Her shot at redemption.

Her stomach churned. The frustrated scream climbed higher in her throat.

It was humiliating and infuriating enough that Pinky Wingnut had caught her off-guard so bad. For most of the night she’d raged at herself for engaging with some freak who was so clearly insane, let alone almost believing him, let alone asking him about…that name, a name she didn’t even give a shit about anymore. A name gathering dust in the bottom of the tattered, locked trunk across her room, right along with the police file it was tucked away in.

It felt like she’d had an embarrassing childhood toy she didn’t remember burying shoved into her arms without warning. And instead of throwing it back in the jerk’s face and telling him to fuck off, what had her stupid ass done? Asked him where he dug it up. Oh, and paid him for his trouble.

But no, she brooded, dropping her arm from her face and letting the light sear her eyes so that she could glare at the ceiling. Worse than the fact that she’d let him wobble her mentally and emotionally, worse than the fact she’d given him $250 she couldn’t really afford to hand out…worse than any of that was the bastard’s timing.  

The moments following her win had already been a shitshow, even if no one but her knew it. It’d been that way the whole past year, but last night—the semi-final fight—had definitely been the worst. The second Lee had thrown her away from Mad Fuck or whatever and she’d managed to pull herself out of “fight mode” to convince herself that yes, she’d actually won, her mind had eagerly jumped to her corner—only to remember it was empty, now. There was no one there. No strong, smirking older blonde boy or a tiny, old one-eyed man offering up one of his rare, proud smiles through his mustache.

Just a little bit of hope had kept her heart from sinking too far as she remembered that her friend from the system, Rose [*3], had promised to come out to watch her tonight.

The triumphant smile and pose had been a facade, one which she struggled more and more to keep up this past year. The effort had felt monumental while she strutted around the perimeter of the cage, heart warming a bit at the sight of some regular fans cheering from the front row, decked out in what must have been homemade merch with her name all over it, even as she remained desperate in her search for skin pink and slightly warped with an old burn; messy brown waves of hair; and large, dreamy hazel eyes in the crowd.

She never found them.

As her eyes’ search had faltered, realizing her friend wasn’t there like she’d promised she would be, they’d begun to sting, much to her horror. Bitterness nipped at her crumpling heart.

 I…have nothing—

It was with the thought she barely managed to stifle, this time, that she’d been completely unable to maintain the facade, all of her effort needed to smother the pit trying to yawn wide inside her. The throbbing, gloved fist she had lifted in triumph had begun to drop, the smile had fled, her vision had blurred…

And then Pinky Wingnut had appeared like a bolt from the damn blue, bellowing the name she’d been so close to finally forgetting. In front of a shit-ton of people, no less. He hadn’t even looked embarrassed for himself. Had thrown himself into the arena like he had any—no, every damn right to be there, obviously not caring who he had to punch, elbow, or throw to get there. Had shamelessly barked and pitted himself against the ref, Lee, whose very presence demanded respect.

No, he was too crazy for shame, something which had finally been driven home during their second “reunion” when he’d started yelling about Harley—a name he definitely shouldn’t have known. Not even if he somehow had a copy of the same police file she did. Her police file. In the notes they took during the interview with her five-year-old self, the cops had consistently misspelled Harley’s name as “Charlie,” one of the many ways those dolts had fumbled and fucked up while trying to figure out who and where her parents were.

At least “Charlie” makes more sense than “Nashi Layla Dragon O’Neil”…she thought, eye twitching at the thought of the ridiculous name the pigs claimed her five-year-old self told them. Granted, Little Layla had been pretty obsessed with dragons. Even more than she had been throughout most of her childhood in the system. Even more than Pinky Wingnut. Maybe even enough to make up such a ridiculous name, one which literally contained the word “Dragon.”

If she remembered the interview correctly, she’d even whined that she was hungry and begged the cops for some fire to eat—that was, when she wasn’t too busy crying because Harley wouldn’t talk to her or making up wild shit about how her parents were warlocks or whatever, how she belonged in a fairy tale. She hadn’t even bothered to specify which one.

Throwing her blanket off herself and the cat in question, who beeped hoarsely in protest, Layla swung her legs out of bed. Her bruised bare feet slapped against the cold, cheap, off-white tile as she fumbled for her trusty bottle of pain pills on the nightstand, popped a couple, then brought her water bottle to her lips to wash it down.

She stood and stretched her arms above her head with a groan, scratching at her tan, toned stomach and wincing slightly as she tottered over to her bedroom window, tripping over piles of manga volumes on the way [*4]. She’d gotten lucky with her view of the park across the street, especially with the big, half-dead old tree which dominated the middle of the panes.

Now, Layla was so busy raging at herself, she barely registered the sight. Didn’t see the sunny day, the homeless people rolling up their tents and clearing out before someone driving by called the cops. She glared at the cars moving below, seething with her own thoughts so hard she could almost feel steam pouring out of her ears and nose into the room.  

No more goddamn distractions, she swore viciously to herself. No more crying during her victory lap like a pathetic weakling. No more getting sidetracked by delusional Pinky Wingnuts. No more thinking about…that name and all the mortifying bullshit that came with it. Four days out was Championship night. Until then, no more fucking distractions.

She sat there, staring unseeingly at the old tree and tried to amp herself up, frustration detonating slowly in her brain as her heart barely stirred at her own lecture. No matter how hard she worked, how much she tried, or how many times she yelled her catchphrase at the end of her fights…for the past year, something just wasn’t there.

“I’ve got a fire inside me you’ll just never put out!” came closer and closer to getting completely stuck at the back of her throat—and staying there. It felt more like a lie every time it left her lips.

Frustration finally hitting boiling point like a fucking teakettle screaming, she stomped back over to her nightstand, less tripping over her manga than kicking the pile, this time. She unplugged her phone from its charger, scowling as she scrolled through the notifications to see that not only had Rose not bothered to show up, she hadn’t even fucking texted to explain why. The last text she’d ever sent came two days ago, just the words, I’ll try n be there punctuated with a shitty smiley face.

“You fucking liar,” Layla seethed under her breath, croaky voice shaking.

Distantly, she registered Harley (who’d apparently decided to quit being a lazy little lump) twirling around her ankles, mewling for breakfast.

She told herself it was anger making her heart wince, not pain. She knew Rose struggled. She did. She knew that. Her life hadn’t been any easier than Layla’s—in ways, much harder after the fire which left them both scarred in different ways. After Layla and a reluctant Gracie had managed to convince her to get help a couple years ago, she’d been so much better for a while. But now…

Now whatever, Layla thought viciously, black flames licking furiously at her insides. One thing, she’d asked for. It wasn’t like she wanted anything crazy, just for one person who mattered to show up for two of the biggest fights of her life (so far). She’d long given up on Gracie, but Rose used to show up—even if it was only occasionally. Sometimes even when she was going through a bad period. Layla had been there for Rose as much as she could after juvie, had picked her up after benders, beat the shit out of anyone who made fun of her burns. And her “friend” apparently couldn’t pay her back by just freaking showing up once or twice.

So much for “Foster kids don’t ditch each other,” she thought bitterly.

Fuck you too, Rose, she typed aggressively. Seriously.

Layla hit Send. Then, after pausing for a second, she typed out:

 If you’re not there Friday night, I’ll fucking kill you!

Layla hit Send again. Clicking out of their conversation, she scowled as another text from an unsaved number made itself known through bolded font:

Yo, congrats on the win! Looks like we’re up again! A fist emoji. Good luck...you’ll need it... 

That text was punctuated by a winky face. Another text followed it up:

I heard some crazy shit went down at the end of your fight, tho…u good?

Layla’s eye twitched. Ever since that motherfucker Helio thwarted her attempt to take the championship title from him a year previously, he’d decided to fuck with her mind by sending annoying texts at least a few times a week. If that naive, gullible dumbass Rose wasn’t the one who kept giving him Layla’s number, insisting he “wasn’t such a bad guy” Layla would have killed her.

She gritted her teeth hard enough to give herself a headache, almost mangling her phone. No matter how much she tried to tell herself she was too experienced a fighter to let that stupid douchebag psych her out, the rage burning in her chest and the fact that she still hadn’t been able to make herself rewatch last year’s championship fight—the only one she’d lost in the semi-unders—said otherwise.

The most she’d ever sent him was a poop emoji. Their “conversation” was basically just littered with them. But now, her temper was so close to snapping that she just deleted the conversation entirely with hard taps, refusing to give herself a chance to reply something stupid.

For all the fucking good it did. This time, the frustrated scream did leave her throat, making her sound like a fucking demon smoker.

She threw her phone on her bed with more force than necessary, breathing heavily while she watched it bounce.

“Whatever,” she breathed to herself like a fucking bull. “Forget it, whatever!” At least she didn’t get any texts from that other, much worse bastard anymore…obviously, changing her number a bunch of times had done the trick.

Harley, wholly unperturbed by her outburst, decided to up the breakfast-begging ante. She went from weaving around her ankles to clawing viciously at her bare leg, meowing louder.

“Ow!” Layla snapped, swatting at the little gremlin to shoo her off. “You fish-addicted, fucked up cat!”

Harley yowled petulantly. The little shit was Layla’s best friend, and she loved her to death, but she could really be a monster when it came to her damn “fishies.” Or scratching the shit out of her furniture and walls. Or if anyone other than Layla came near her (though Layla didn’t really blame her for that one).  

The little cat leapt atop one of the few still-intact pile of comics and manga near the window, white tail swishing agitatedly. Those odd, blank-but-not, round, charcoal eyes of hers an unblinking, salmon-filled demand. Layla was geared up to ignore her and get ready for the day—maybe even eat her own damn breakfast first, for once, if Harley was going to be such a little brat!—but her anger cooled when the morning light streaming in from the window illuminated the sheen of pink skin peeking through her white fur. Barely visible, but still there. A burn gained in the same fire as Rose’s, before Layla managed to get her out.

Layla didn’t feel bad for calling Harley “fucked up.” She didn’t. She was a cat, for crying out loud. She couldn’t even understand a word she said anymore than she could fly like Pinky Wingnut the Stalker, seemed to think.

The fighter sighed. “Tch…well, who wants a fishies, then?” she half-cooed, half-grumbled her usual morning phrase—which she’d never, ever say in front of anyone else—then snorted and made to get dressed when Harley practically sang a meow at hearing her favorite words.

----------------------

“Fuck off, Gracie!”

Her shithead roommate was the absolute last person Layla wanted to see while she and Harley were trying to enjoy their breakfast that morning. Especially when the jerk was practically naked—clad only in a thong and one of her loser “friends’” shirts (Layla assumed); especially when the apartment had gained a new beer can and burnt tin foil rug overnight; and especially when she was trying to steal Layla’s food.

She slammed a bruised fist onto Gracie’s lanky hand as it snaked to towards her bacon. The table, silverware, and Harley’s bowlful of raw salmon rattled as she pinned it to the wood hard enough to leave a bruise.

“Ouch!” Gracie squeaked, wriggling her hand out from Layla’s fist, Layla only letting her up after giving her a good long glare.

Harley, perched on the table right next to Layla’s morning feast, was barely fazed by the jolt to the table or loud sounds. However, she was clearly not happy with Gracie’s nearness. If Layla hadn’t been there between them, there would have been a real concern for the safety of Gracie’s hands. She lifted her head from the bowl of raw salmon she’d previously been loudly scarfing to stare down their lanky, pale roommate. Though her tail briefly bristled like a soda bottle, she quickly returned to devouring her fish to no one’s damn surprise, although she ate more quietly now.

Meanwhile, Gracie pouted, rubbing her hand and eyeing Harley with a distaste that was far too familiar. Then she finally returned her angled, glinting dark eyes to her angrily flushed roommate. Her pout grew bigger as she threw her skinny, naked ass into the chair on the opposite side of the table from Harley.

“Seriously? You have that ginormous breakfast and can’t even give your own bestie one tiny slice of bacon?”

“Bestie” was a major stretch, especially at the moment. But admittedly, it was a big breakfast:

One huge veggie omelet and a sizable hunk of meat (bacon, today) both marinated in enough spices to turn most peoples’ tongues to leather. Whole wheat toast with almond butter. A big protein smoothie to top it all off. It was a ton of calories, but every one would be needed for today’s training.

Makar, Layla’s old coach, would have skinned her alive if he’d been around to know she wasn’t taking the day after a fight to rest [*5]. She’d always thought it was a stupid rule, but she’d grudgingly followed it out of respect for her coach.

But now, Mak was buried in the graveyard a couple blocks over, and so was the “Rest Day Rule” as far as Layla was concerned. She hadn’t rested a single day the past year, not even when sick. Rest was for spoiled douchebags like Helio who had an entire team dedicated to shaping him into an amazing fighter like a ball of fucking golden clay. Hell, he even had a fight manager now that most of his fights were in the “real” octagon rather than the semi-underground.

She should know, since she’d been watching all his fights since forever.

(Just not theirs.)

Layla bared her teeth at Gracie. “No, I can’t! I need the energy for training! And even if I could, I wouldn’t! Get your own damn food!”

“Ugh.” Gracie rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her braless chest. “Don’t tell me you’re butthurt about last night. God, it’s not even that big a deal. You are such a slut-shamer.”

“Don’t fucking call me a slut-shamer!” she snapped back, throwing her chopsticks down on her plate just to taunt Gracie with the fact that she wasn’t even eating the breakfast she refused to share. “As if that has anything to do with shit! Last night was the semi-final—“

“I forgot,” Gracie sniffed, turning away while closing her eyes.

“Like hell you did, liar!” Layla snarled. “I reminded you like a thousand times!” She scooped her chopsticks back up, squeezing them so hard they threatened to break. “I don’t care who you bone, but I’ve got four days to the Championship fight, and I’m not getting there like a zombie because I had to keep listening to your shitty crooning! Next time, I’ll throw their asses out!”

She pointed her chopsticks at the girl whose aura was now definitely souring, ignoring the sounds of Harley now loudly licking her chops from the other side of the table.

“And while we’re on the subject, how does that scenario even happen!? ‘Oh, hey, Rando, do you happen to be a huge asshole?’” She pretended to pause as if listening, then to brighten with a mocking amount of pageantry. “ ‘Oh, you are? Fantastic! You pass the audition! Come on over around 8 for a gang-wang!’”

“It’s ‘gangbang’,” Gracie sneered, her laughter making Layla’s ears heat with embarrassment. “Seriously, how do you get to ‘gang-wang’?” Layla hunched her shoulders in an attempt to hide the effect, hoping Gracie would just move on. But since when had she ever gotten what she wanted?

“And also, I just meet guys at parties, get their numbers, and text them. Really not rocket science. But then, you wouldn’t know that, would you? Since you’re such an oblivious prude. Not to mention an imbecile.” She stood, turning away to stretch and giving Layla an unfortunate full view of her bony white horse butt. “But then again…” She turned smirking over her similarly bony shoulder. “That’s only to be expected from a gorilla.”

Layla stiffened as the cruel nickname was thrown at her for the second time in as many days.

Let it go, she tried to tell herself. She’s just pissed because you called her out. Foster kids don’t ditch each other. They stick by each other.

But this time, the placations didn’t work; her rage leapt to her tongue faster than she could bite it.

“Go fuck yourself, Third-Base Grace!”

Her roommate froze, turning to stare at her with wide eyes full of horror and disbelief as Layla glowered up at her, cheeks tinged in anger. She’d never resorted to calling Gracie that. Ever. Hell, she used to beat people up when they called Gracie that, after they both left juvie and wound up in the same high school.

The worst part was that she couldn’t even make herself feel bad for pulling out the mean high school nickname. Not when she was having such a shit morning. Not when the resentment had been festering within her for this long. 

Not when Gracie had done the exact same thing to her—several times, now.

When their glare-off lasted for several seconds, Gracie’s devastation transformed just as surely and quickly as Layla’s had. Layla could see it in her eyes. For a second, she thought Gracie was going to say something really nasty, and she geared up, ready to fucking throw down if it came to it. Throwing her naked ass out was looking more appealing by the minute, let alone by the day, if she was being honest.

But then, as soon as Gracie’s eyes narrowed and the fire flared within them, her anger was muted. Not exactly gone, but looking like a veil had been cast over it, darkening it.

“Whatever,” she scoffed, snatching her phone off the couch she’d been crashing on for months and stalking towards the bathroom. “Get that hideous thing you call a cat off the table.”

Harley, obviously unable to understand the girl, paid the words no mind, flicking her bristled tail while she watched her walk away.

Layla, on the other hand, felt her temper spike. “Her name is Harley! And fucking make me!” she snapped back. “And all this shit better be cleaned up by the time I get back, or so help me—“

The slam of the bathroom door cut her off, leaving Layla cursing under her breath.

Suddenly, she wasn’t hungry any more, but she forced herself to shovel down the rest of her breakfast as quickly as possible. She told herself it was the spicy food making her eyes burn.

----------------------

A good, hard run served as Layla’s daily warm-up for training. Always had, as far as she remembered. As per usual during the flaming can of garbage that was the past year, she felt like she was flagging the entire time. According to the timer on her phone, her times were better than ever. Yet she’d never felt slower.

Sometimes, it felt like her phone and even her Wikipedia page—which documented her unbroken record over the past year—were lying to her, playing tricks on her. Like a light scale, something she’d had to deal with occasionally back when she competed at other types of martial arts for Mak as a kid [*6].

It also didn’t matter that she refused to look at the graveyard when she passed it on her route; she could always hear Mak’s voice , like the loudest bastard of a ghost ever from the moment she dashed her first step.

 “GET YOUR ASS IN GEAR! DON’T EVEN FUCKING THINK OF LETTING THOSE BOYS BEAT YOU!”

Nevermind the fact that she didn’t run alongside any boys to beat, anymore.

“Foul-mouthed…old…man,” she wheezed to herself, leaning against the big, dying old tree where she always finished her run, the one she could see from her window. She ignored the passersby who gave her strange looks.

Jeez, she thought after a while. It’s really taking me a long time to catch my breath. She felt way better, but she could still hear herself. In fact, it almost sounded like…

Her eyes widened. Hold up! That’s not someone catching their breath, and it sure as shit ain’t me.

Instead, it sounded like…snoring? Pretty loud snoring, too. Layla straightened. Warily, she glared down several of the passersby, wondering if one of them was fucking with her or something. To her fury, several of them eyed her suspiciously, like she was the one standing there in broad daylight snoring out loud like a fucking freak.

“What the hell are you looking at, huh?!” she snapped at one old man with a weird green had and a particularly disdainful glare. He huffed something about “rude brats” while shuffling along.

She frowned as he vanished, glancing around to see that most people in the immediate vicinity had cleared off. Yet the snoring raged on, sounding like a bear except when it would stop entirely, turning into these obnoxious little snorts. With a huff of confusion, she walked around the tree, frown deepening as she looked to see if someone was sleeping on the other side.

“Alright, seriously?!” she exclaimed throwing her arms up before flinging them across her chest, pouting in thought. She was stumped. If the snoring wasn’t coming from her, then what, was it coming from the freaking tree?!

She paused, actually considering the possibility. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. “Huh…” she muttered, eyes widening in fascination as she crouched down, putting a hand against the bark and wiping at her sweaty forehead with the other. “Well, I mean, plants gotta breathe, too, don’t they?” At least, she thought she remembered learning something like that in school.

Suddenly, the snoring ceased, turning into a groan. Layla yanked her hand away from the tree like it burned her, eyes bugging. “W-what the hell?!” she whispered, now officially getting creeped out.

Then the tree fucking gasped.

And then, Layla finally figured out it wasn’t the tree when the gasp was followed up with an unfortunately familiar voice crying a hoarse, “Nashi!”

She looked up.

She screamed.

----------------------

Footnotes:

*1. On Layla telling the “Edward Cullen” boy to get up when she’s the one on the ground:  You might recognize this interaction from the original story. Natsu said it to Gray when they were fighting as children in one scene. I couldn’t resist borrowing the moment as both a hint and for nostalgic reasons.

*2. On having two fights within the same week: In the UFC, fighters have ~5 fights a year at most. The idea of someone doing a sport as violent, intense, and damaging to the body as UFC-level MMA even multiple times in one month is ludicrous. Doesn’t really matter since this is a Fairy Tail fic, and I won’t correct everything that’s inaccurate, but if I don’t roast myself just a little all my research was for NOTHING!!

*3. On mentions of characters from “Our Earth” such as Rose and Helio: Little characters and details like this are genuinely important to the fic and will ultimately be relevant even to Fairy Tail’s OC’s, I promise. This is NOT going to be one of those fics that’s ostensibly a Fairy Tail fic but in execution could really be totally unrelated to the original story, I promise.

*4. On Layla/Nashi’s manga volumes: Nashi’s love for manga (including eventual mentions of stories some of you may recognize) is as close to a crossover fic as this story will ever get.

*5. On Layla not taking rest days after fights: no

*6. Meaning of “light scale”: a scale that gives out readings less than one’s actual weight, an infamously common problem with the scales provided by US Olympics in sports such as Judo, where fighters have to cut (lose) or make (gain/maintain) weight to compete in certain weight classes

---------------------- 

Author’s Notes:

Hmm…could “Makar” be an Edolas-like parallel, I wonder?

Again, sorry this took so long! Tried to cut back on the “Our Earth” exposition, but kind of think it might still be too much? I’m also nervous about Layla/Nashi’s second debut. She’s definitely been something of a handful to write. But this is just how the story developed in my head, so oh well.

Like I said, I’m going to try to get chapters out faster, from here on out. I’d like to aim for at least one every week and a half, but I won’t give you guys a real, hard number until I figure out what works for me.

Thanks for reading, and hope you enjoyed!

[weightoftomorrow]

Prompt #28: Deleterious

the problem with this prompt is that practically everything qahs'a does is deleterious to his own health, and yet i cannot find a story to write in that. heck it. also halfway through writing it i realized they didn't change ENOUGH dialogue. so i'm gonna post BOTH versions so there. technically i think by the rules i could've just posted the first one but. eh. spoilers for, like. level 49 arr quest. i just realized i could've not stayed up until 7 am struggling since tomorrow is catchup day but too late

Coeli stares at Minfilia.

"I'm sorry, the plan is to send me, alone, to assassinate the third in command of the Garlean army?"

"He cannot be third in command," Y'shtola says archly. "As he is not Garlean, he can only be a Praefectus instead of a Tribunus. The command structure must go Baelsar, Scaeva, Junius, Arvina instead."

"That doesn't help! I don't-- The command structure doesn't matter! You want me to take on the entire castrum alone! I didn't even try to take on Castrum Centri alone, let alone of of the leaders!" Coeli snaps.

"…It's a very small castrum," Minfilia says in a small voice.

"Thou hath shown the ability lies within thee to succeed where others cannot," Urianger

[and this is where i went to double check urianger is there and instead realized the dialogue still says wol is leading a group Oops. hey guys cape westwind is gone. anyway second edition]

Coeli looked at the officer.

The officer looked back.

"I'm… supposed to be leading an elite unit, right?" Coeli said.

The officer said nothing.

"So where is this elite unit?"

The officer coughed into his hand. "Lieutenant Adalbert has more details, sir."

Coeli sighed and went to check in with Adalbert. Adalbert himself affirmed that Coeli was leading a unit, but… there continued to be no other adventurers present at the small staging area.

Coeli had a bad feeling about this.

An eternity (not really) later, his linkpearl rang.

"I am going to stab whoever planned this stupid thing," Coeli snarled into it, when it connected.

"I--Are you all right? What of Rhitahtyn?" Alphinaud asked, clearly shaken out of his thoughts.

"I. Was supposed to be in a group," Coeli snapped. "Instead, they sent me out to assassinate the third in command of the army alone! He set himself on fire and chained me to the ground aetherially!"

"…May I presume that you prevailed, since you are reporting? Do you wish us to find a medic to send to you?"

"Yes, he's dead, and I'm feeling a little roasted but the Echo took care of it," Coeli admitted finally. "But I'm still furious. Seriously, who planned that, I feel like they should also feel a little roasted."

The other side of the connection was silent for a little too long, and then Alphinaud said, hurriedly, "I will report this to Raubahn and ensure that the next phase of Operation Archon commences immediately!" before the connection went dead.

"Are you--Alphinaud!"

[finnwheelerxx-blog]

summertime series: animal shelter and surprises!

y/n: your name

y/n/n: your nickname

l/n: last name

this is another long one. i was gonna divide it into two parts, but decided against it because i would probably forget to write it lol

happy reading !

♡♡♡

you: do you wanna do something today?

finn: sure :) what’d you have in mind?

you: the animal shelter?

you: only if you want to tho

finn: i’d love to <3

finn: i’ll pick u up in 20?

you: sounds perfect xx

you walked downstairs to find your mom in the living room. 

“hey, mom. is it okay if finn and i go to the animal shelter today?” you asked, sitting down next to her on the couch. 

“sure, sweetie. is he picking you up?” 

“yeah, he’ll be here in twenty minutes,” you smiled, before returning to your room to get ready for the shelter. you wore a pair of yoga pants, a t-shirt, and a pair of sneakers. you tied your hair in a ponytail, put on some light mascara, and you were ready. you still had time to spare, so you went back downstairs and sat by your mom once more. 

“ready already?” she questioned, surprised that you got ready in such a short amount of time. 

“yeah,” you chuckled. “only finn and some animals will see me.”

“well, you still look nice.”

“thanks, mom.”

“do you know how long you’ll be gone?”

“no, i think we’re both coming back here after, though. i’ll text you.”

“perfect,” your mom nodded. at that exact moment, there was a knock on the door. you knew it was finn, so you volunteered to get it. 

“hey, finn,” you grinned, pulling him into a quick hug.

“hey, y/n/n. hi, ms. l/n.

“hi, finn,” your mom smiled sweetly. “so both of you are coming back here when you’re done at the shelter?”

“yes. ma’am, if that’s okay.”

“of course, sweetie. y/n, text me when you know when you’ll be home, okay?”

“i will. bye, mom!”

“bye, honey. i love you!” 

“i love you, too!”

“goodbye, ms. l/n!” finn called as you were exiting your house. 

from inside the house, you could hear a faint, “bye, finn!” 

you both chuckled and continued the short walk to finn’s car. you walked around to the passenger side, and finn opened the door for you. you giggled and mumbled a shy “thank you.” then, finn walked over to his side of the car and began driving to the animal shelter. along the way, you listened to one of his playlists and sang along to all the songs. soon, you arrived at the animal shelter. you got out of the car and met finn at the back of the car. you smiled enthusiastically as finn intertwined your hands. 

“you’re so cute, you know that?” finn admired. 

“i’ve been told once or twice,” you teased. he nudged you with his side and led you inside. 

there was a lady at a desk who asked, “how can i help you two?” with a smirk.

“we’re here to volunteer,” finn answered.

“okay, just sign in over there, grab a leash, and head on back,” she told you both. 

“thank you so much!” you grinned. 

you signed your names as finn grabbed a leash, and you both went to the area with all the dogs, begging and barking for attention. 

“which one do you wanna walk?” finn questioned loudly. 

“i don’t know,” you replied equally as loud. 

“how about that one?” finn pointed to a small dog that was lying in the back corner of the cage. it looked like it had some scratches and patches of fur missing, and your heart ached at the sight. you and finn slowly approached the cage the dog was in and read more about it. his name was bennie. he was only three years old, and he’s very shy. 

“aw,” you bent down to look closer at little bennie. “do you wanna go for a walk, buddy?” 

finn cracked open the cage and handed you the leash to put around bennie’s neck. he happily obliged to the sudden attention, and hopped around as you headed back to the front to walk him. 

“great choice,” the lady at the desk said. “he doesn’t get walked much.” 

“what happened to him?” you asked. 

“we’re not sure. his owners just left him tied up to the front door one day.”

“that’s awful,” you frowned, looking down at the sweet dog sniffing around. 

“it really is,” the lady sighed. 

finn held the door open for you and bennie. both of your faces were somber as you thought about the unknown violence the sweet dog has endured. bennie turned left, and you followed. finn walked beside you and grasped your unoccupied hand. you looked over at him, and he smiled tightly. 

“will you take him for a second?” you requested. he looked confused, but grabbed bennie’s leash nonetheless. you took your phone out of your pocket, snapped a picture of bennie, and sent it to your mom with an explanation of what happened to him. 

“let’s just try to have fun, okay? he needs some joy around him,” finn broke the silence. 

“you’re right,” you declared, nodding your head. 

“alright, bennie, where do you wanna go?” finn cooed as he loosened his grip on the leash to let bennie pick his path. he chose the one to the right, so that’s where you went. 

“do you want him back?” finn questioned, looking over at you. 

“sure,” you grinned. “let’s speed this up a little bit.” 

you began jogging, letting bennie get some of his pent-up energy out. he ran alongside you, his tongue happily flapping in the slight wind. finn stayed behind just a little to take a picture. he debated for a few seconds whether he should send this to your mom and surprise you. he eventually decided there was nothing he would rather do at that moment. 

finn: *attached photo* hi, mrs. l/n, i’m sure y/n has already told you about little bennie. she really loves him. i don’t think i’ve ever seen her this happy. so, i was thinking about buying him for her with your permission and help. 

finn finally caught up to you and bennie, and intertwined your hands, thinking about your reaction to his plan (assuming it all goes well). when you got to an open area, you and bennie ran around some more. you tested his ability to not run away by lightly stepping on his leash. he stayed with you, and you let him go before grabbing a stick and playing fetch. 

finn saw this as an opportunity to check his phone. he had one new message. 

your mom: i agree. i think surprising her with little bennie is a great idea! when you both get back from the shelter, i can tell her i’m going grocery shopping and go back to the shelter to talk prices and such. then, tomorrow you and i can go back and actually buy bennie.

finn: that sounds perfect! thank you so much!

“finn!” you called. “come here!”

“coming!” 

“look how cute he is!” you shouted excitedly, throwing the stick and watching bennie chase after it. “he’s such a good dog,” you cooed, bending down to pet under his chin. finn smiled at you, admiring your compassion and excitement towards this little dog. 

“he is,” finn agreed. 

“do you wanna throw it?” you suggested, handing him the stick. 

“sure.” 

you continued playing this game of fetch for what felt like minutes, when in reality it was about an hour. 

“we should head back. it’s almost time for dinner,” finn declared. 

“yeah, okay,” you sighed, never wanting this day to end. 

the walk back to the shelter was filled with silence. you were mourning the fact that this adorable, playful pup had to go back to the cage, while finn was thinking about the plan, wondering, and hoping, it would be successful. 

finn held the door open for you and bennie again, and the lady from the desk looked at you and smiled. 

“i can take him back, if you’d like,” she proposed. 

“it’s okay. we can do it,” you smiled. she nodded, understanding that you wanted to say goodbye. it was a look she’d seen often. 

when you found bennie’s cage again, you knelt down to his level and scratched behind his ear. 

“thanks for playing today, bud. i had a great time,” you laughed, trying not to cry. “i’ll be back soon, okay? be a good boy.” you took off his leash and gently nudged him into the cage. finn closed the door and led you back to the front door. 

“thank you both for coming in. hopefully we’ll see you again soon,” the lady at the desk smiled. you returned the smile half-way and looked down. finn just nodded and intertwined your fingers, leading you to the car. you sent a quick text to your mom that you were on your way. the car ride home was filled with a deafening, sorrowful silence. 

finally, you arrived home, and finn opened the car door for you, gently put his arm around your shoulders, and guided you inside. 

“hey, guys! how was it?” your mom greeted when you walked into the kitchen, where she was currently making dinner. 

“good,” finn answered. “we had a lot of fun.”

“yeah,” you agreed. “can we go in the living room until dinner?”

“of course, sweetie.”

you sulked into the living room, but finn stayed behind to talk to your mom. 

“she seems really upset,” your mom frowned. 

“she is. she fell in love with that dog.”

“she’s never been this sad after leaving the shelter. usually, she’s a little sad, but it’s never been this bad.”

“i know. i hate it,” finn pouted. 

“well, just stay with her until i can leave to go back to the shelter. keep an eye on her, okay?”

“i will, i promise.”

“thank you, finn.”

he just smiled and nodded, knowing there’s no other place he’d rather be than by your side. he hurried into the living room to find you sitting on the couch with a blanket draped over your lap. he lifted the blanket and sat next to you. 

“are you okay, y/n/n?” 

“i don’t know. i will be,” you responded looking down and fiddling with the blanket. “it’s just heartbreaking that someone would do that to such a sweet dog, you know? he didn’t do anything to deserve it.”

“i know, bub,” finn mumbled, pulling you into a side-hug. your head rested on his shoulder and his arm laid on your back. he pressed a soft kiss to your head. you stayed like this until your mom shouted that dinner was ready. you both went into the kitchen and ate your dinner at the counter alongside your mom. 

“sweetie, i have to go to the grocery store really quick. don’t open the door. stay downstairs,” your mom ordered. “i’m trusting you both. i’ll be back in twenty minutes.” 

“okay,” you said. 

when you were both done eating, you wandered back to the couch and turned on netflix. 

“what do you wanna watch?” you asked finn as you both got comfortable with your head on his shoulder once again, and his arm was wrapped around your shoulders. 

“you choose.”

“okay, then i guess ‘friends’ it is.”

“awesome,” he chuckled, knowing you would’ve picked that show no matter what he said. 

when the episode was over, your mom entered the house. 

“i’m home!” she called. 

“in the living room!” you hollered back. 

she smiled softly at your position as she entered the living room. 

“finn, do you mind helping me with the groceries? i have a case of water bottles i could use some help with,” your mom questioned. 

“sure,” he smiled, getting up from the couch after giving your head a quick peck. 

your mom pointed to the garage as finn met her in the kitchen. 

“okay, so, the dog will cost about $200 from the shelter, but we should take him to the vet to get shots and a check-up, and we’ll need to get a bed, toys, food, bowls, a leash. i think we can do that with y/n, though.”

“yeah, that makes sense.”

“i already scheduled the appointment for the vet for tomorrow at eleven. do you want to come with?”

“i would love to.”

“okay. i’ll tell y/n i’m meeting a friend for coffee and lunch, and i can pick you up at nine, then head to the shelter and the vet. does that work?”

“yeah, it should. what do you want me to pay for?”

“honey, you don’t have to do that.”

“no, i want to. i can pay for bennie and the vet, if you want.”

“we’ll split the bill for the vet, how does that sound?”

“perfect. thank you so much, ms. l/n. this means the world to me, and i know it’ll mean the world to y/n, too.”

“you mean the world to y/n. thank you for looking out for her and making her happy. i can’t express how much that means to me,” your mom confessed, pulling finn in for a tight hug. 

“it’s my pleasure, really. but we should probably head back in before she gets suspicious,” finn chuckled. 

“good idea.”

↯ THE NEXT MORNING ↯

you were awoken at an ungodly hour by your mom. 

“sweetheart, i’m leaving for coffee. i’ll be back later this afternoon, okay?”

“okay,” you grumbled. 

“i love you, y/n.”

“i love you, too. have fun.”

you went back to sleep, and your mom left the house to go pick up finn. she was beyond excited to get bennie and see your face when she and finn walk in with the dog. when she made it to finn’s house, he was already outside looking as excited as she did. 

“good morning,” finn grinned, getting in the car. 

“good morning. you excited?”

“very. i can’t wait to see her reaction.” 

“me either. i will definitely be recording it. i don’t know how to show her, though.”

“well, we could have her sit down on the couch with a blindfold on, and then we could put bennie in her lap,” finn suggested. let’s just say, finn watched some ‘david dobrik surprising his friends’ compilations last night. 

“incredible!” your mom beamed. 

finn and your mom reached the animal shelter and walked inside, where the same lady from the day before greeted them. 

“nice to see you again,” she smiled. “did you decide on adoption?”

“yes, we’re gonna do it,” your mom answered. 

“perfect!” the lady cheered. “if you’ll come with me, i’ll get the papers ready to go. young man, what is your name?”

“finn.”

“okay, finn, would you mind getting bennie and meeting us back here?”

“sure,” finn smiled. he grabbed a leash and went to bennie’s cage again. 

“hey, little guy. do you remember me?” finn murmured. “we’re gonna take you to your new home.” 

bennie spun in a circle and panted. finn chuckled and walked him to your mom. 

“hi, bennie,” she welcomed. “i already signed the papers and payed,” she told finn. 

“i thought i was...” finn started. 

“i know, you can pay me back if you really feel the need, but i had to pay her just in case there’s a problem since i’m the adult,” your mom told finn as they were walking to the car. 

“oh, okay. well, i have the money,” finn said awkwardly pulling out the money needed to cover bennie and handing it to your mom. 

“alright, sweetie,” your mom giggled. “you’re very generous.”

“thank you,” finn shyly responded. 

↯ SKIP TO VET BECAUSE I DON’T WANNA WRITE ABOUT A CAR RIDE SORRY ↯

your mom signed into the vet as finn took a seat with bennie at his feet. 

“bennie!” a nurse called. 

finn stood up and followed her with your mom trailing closely behind. the nurse took them to a room, where the appointment would take place. 

“okay, so you adopted him from the shelter, correct?” the nurse questioned. 

“yes,” your mom responded. 

“alright, so we always run three tests on dogs from the shelter: rabies, ticks and fleas, and then just a general blood test to check for diseases or cancer, things like that.”

“okay.” 

“so, if you could just put bennie on the bed and pet him to keep him calm,” she directed finn. “i’m just gonna check his fur for any signs of ticks or fleas, but sometimes the dogs start squirming, which makes it very difficult.”

finn did as she told and pet bennie gently. whenever he would start moving around, finn whispered comforting words and pet him even more. 

“okay, he looks good!” the nurse announced, giving bennie’s head a scratch. “now, i’m gonna draw some blood, which will most likely really freak him out, so ms. l/n, if you would come up here and hold him down.” 

the nurse pointed bennie with the needle, causing a whine to escape his mouth. finn looked away sadly, but kept petting him. it was over in no time, and bennie was back to his happy self. the test results were back within thirty minutes, which finn and your mom were extremely thankful for. 

“the tests look good: no rabies, no diseases, no cancer. i’m just gonna give you this ointment to put on his wounds once a day. however, you need to make sure he won’t lick it off, so we’ll give you a cone as well. sometimes the dogs don’t need it, but more often than not, they do,” the nurse instructed. 

“do we put it on the patches of missing fur as well?” your mom asked. 

“you can. i suggest only doing it on the patches that look irritated.”

“okay, thanks so much for all your help.”

“you’re very welcome. you picked out a great dog. with some love and this ointment, he’ll be back to normal in no time,” the nurse smiled, exiting the room. 

↯ OKAY ANOTHER TIME SKIP TO YOUR HOUSE I’M SO SORRY ↯

“alright, so you’re gonna go in and blindfold her, then come back out here to get bennie, correct?” your mom checked once again, wanting this plan to work. 

“yeah, don’t forget to record it,” finn grinned. 

“i would never. now go in there. there’s a sleeping mask on my nightstand that you can use.”

“got it,” finn responded, walking inside. “hey, y/n!” finn called. 

“finn?” you questioned, dumbfounded. 

“yeah, it’s me. your mom picked me up after her lunch,” he smiled. 

“oh, really? i didn’t know you were coming over. not that i mind,” you replied, pulling him in for a hug. he chuckled and hugged back before pulling away. 

“i have a surprise for you, but i need you to go sit on the couch, first,” finn ordered. 

“okay? this is weird,” you laughed, but went to the couch. finn entered your mom’s room and snatched the sleeping mask, then returned to you. 

“put this on.”

“finn, i...”

“i know, but just trust me, okay? it’s not gonna hurt you, i promise. i’ll be back in a second. don’t take that off!” he shouted as he began walking back to he garage. 

“is she ready?” your mom inquired. 

“yeah, i think i’m just gonna pick up bennie and put him in her lap, so she can’t hear him.”

“that’s a great idea, finn. i’m ready whenever you are,” your mom said as she pulled out her phone, opened the camera app, and began recording. finn gave the camera a big smile and a thumbs up. 

he headed inside with bennie, who looked around sniffing, in his arms. 

“okay, y/n, ready?” finn asked. 

“i guess,” you giggled anxiously. 

finn placed bennie in your lap, and you shrieked, not expecting the weight.

“whoa,” you laughed. you took off the blindfold and gasped, placing your hands over your mouth. “bennie?”

“finn, did you do this?” you questioned, completely in awe. 

“yeah,” he chuckled. “you were so in love with him, and you were heartbroken when we had to leave, so i talked to your mom and now he’s yours.” 

“is this a joke? because it’s not very funny,” you stated, tears welling up in your eyes. you couldn’t believe finn would do something like this for you. 

“of course i’m not joking. he’s all yours.”

“why did you do this?” you still couldn’t wrap your head around the situation, and a tear escaped your eye. 

finn knelt down in front of you as he spoke. “y/n, you mean the world to me, and i couldn’t stand to see you so sad. seeing you leave this dog at the shelter was like seeing your face when i have to leave to atlanta. it was so heartbreaking. i knew that you needed bennie as much as i need you. i did this because i want you to be happy. i need you to be happy, and if buying you a dog is what i need to do to make that happen, then that’s what i’ll do. as long as your mom’s okay with it,” he confessed, chuckling at the end. 

his speech made a couple more tears to fall, and he wiped away every single one. 

“i’m the luckiest person in the world,” you sniffled. “thank you so much. i don’t know how i’ll ever repay you.”

“seeing your smile is more than enough, bub.”

“okay, guys, cut it out before you make me cry more,” your mom joked, though she was completely serious. 

“thank you so much, guys. i love you both,” you told your mom and finn. 

“i love you, too,” they replied in unison. 

♡♡♡

quick warning: idk if the stuff about the vet is correct. i was completely making it up, so don’t fact check me lol

omg i always get so sad when i leave the shelter :( 

hope y’all enjoyed this! have a lovely day, you wonderful people !! xx

[expelliarmus]

DW Meme 2.0 | Five OTPs [2/5] Amy Pond and Rory Williams

[se0kie]

heat of the moment- knj (m)

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: pwp, it’s pure smut i’m so sorry

established relationship, werewolf!joon, classic heat trope

warnings: *deep breath* let’s see if i can get it all?? dom!knj, sub!reader, heat sex, possessive sex, marking, biting, nipple play, pussy eating, fingering, squirting, choking, rough handling, dirty talk, degradation, use of bitch/whore/slut, multiple orgasms, impreg kink, breeding kink, creampie, cumplay, mentions of blood, namjoon has a big cock (duh)

tagging @ironicarmy fellow microtip pen enthusiast ^3^

not edited oop so you’re just gonna have to ignore the shitty mistakes

summary: you love your werewolf boyfriend, heightened senses and all. you’ve also begged him to let you help him through his agonising heats that torture him every month but the overprotective man he is, he will absolutely not let you near him when he’s so feral. but now he’s standing outside your door and asking to fuck a baby into you. are you ready for that wild ride?

a/n: i have no explanations for this behaviour. this is like 0 plot and all filth, I am so sorry. Horrific overuse of ellipses and uhhhhh,,,,, yeah it’s a product of my inner whore thirsting for Namjoon that’s about it.

You had been having a quiet evening to yourself, safe in the knowledge that your werewolf boyfriend was out on a hunt with his buds and all your work had been done and dusted. You were free to have a peaceful weekend all to yourself filled with self care and trashy movies.

Your dear boyfriend, Kim Namjoon, you had met him in college when he was a senior and you were just a bubbly new freshman.

You had instantly clicked and went forth to become the closest pair in all of Saint Wilson’s Arts University.

Enamoured by his height and intellect since the very first interaction, you had spent a whole year and a half crushing on him like a fourteen year old schoolgirl.

He had told you about his supernatural genes a week before asking you out on a date. And you had been together since.

Werewolves and vampires weren’t unknown to you, you were aware of their existence, but you had never thought that you would meet one.

You adjusted to Namjoon’s wolf characteristics better than you thought possible.

Sure he was warm like a furnace, and yeah he did have a terrible habit of spending hours scenting you so that anyone within 50 feet of you would know you’re taken.

Despite his somewhat difficult behaviour you loved him with every fibre of your being. He looked at you like you had hung the stars in the sky and he swore he would give you anything your heart desired.

Well... except one thing.

Ever since you had been told about the mating behaviour of werewolves and the monthly period of sexual craze that they were subjected to, you had wanted to help Joon out with his.

You had seen documentaries and read papers on the topic. You had learned everything there was to know about werewolf behaviour yet their strange heats boggled your mind more than anything else.

The sheer amount of pain and need that they felt every single month for a whole week, it saddened you to know that you could be helping your boyfriend out but he wouldn’t let you.

Instead choosing to tie himself up with heavy, blessed chains and have his six best friends keep watch.

You had given up after trying for a year straight, deciding that he would entrust you with helping him with his heats when he was comfortable with the idea.

Namjoon was a big man, standing tall at 6 feet with broad shoulders, heavy biceps and sculpted legs, he was scared of hurting you while giving in to his most primal instincts to claim you.

He had chosen you as his mate, his one love for his one life, and being the alpha’s son it was harder for him to control his needs.

So being near fragile, human you when all he could think of was sinking his fangs into your neck and breeding you was out of the question.

Coming back to your peaceful evening, you had just cuddled up with your fluffy blankets and a mug of hot cocoa when you heard the bell ring, the shrill noise resounding through your home.

You weren’t expecting anyone but knowing how impulsive your friends were you got up to open the door nonetheless.

Imagine your surprise when you see your giant of a boyfriend standing outside the threshold of your home, sweat dripping down his large body as he radiated heat.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Joon? What happened? Weren’t you out on a hunt, are you hurt?!”

Concern washed over you as you scanned his frame to look for any possible wounds.

Namjoon shook his head, movements tight and controlled, “No Y/N, I’m fine. I had to leave the hunt halfway.”

“What? Why?” you questioned.

“My heat arrived early.”

Oh.

“Ohhhh...” you thought to yourself as realisation sank into you.

“Joon, sweetie is it okay for you to be here? Did you need something before the isolation?” You couldn’t fathom why he would be here if his heat was upon him.

Unless...

No, he wouldn’t. You shouldn’t get your hopes up.

Suddenly you realised that he was still standing outside your shared apartment like a stranger, you stepped aside gesturing at him to come in.

As he stepped inside you closed the door. You noticed how his movements were stiff and rigid, an aura of tension clouding him.

“Is it alright for you to be back home, Joon?” you said softly, “Y’know, considering your uh... situation?”

You could hear his breathing in the silent room; slow, deep and controlled.

“Y/N, what if I told you that I wanted to mark you right now?” he said in a sudden rush.

You heard your sharp inhale, the question surprising you. But you knew the answer already, it was easy.

“I’d let you. Why?” You said without hesitation, carefully selecting your words you asked, “Do you want to?”

“I wasn’t expecting my heat to arrive this early, I had no idea why it happened in the middle of a hunt... But then I understood when I was standing outside the door.”

He said, “Y/N you’re ovulating.”

“Oh... wow, Joon are you trying to say what I think you’re saying?”

He looked at you as if he was calculating what to say next so as not to scare you away from him.

“Y/N, my wolf refuses anyone else, I know you know of how I used other bitches from the pack to keep myself sated during my previous hunts,” he said casually, the word bitch had very different connotations for humans and werewolves you had come to know.

You could feel your heart twinge in jealousy.

It was a sensitive topic for you, on one hand you really wanted Namjoon to be as comfortable and safe during his heats even if it meant sleeping with someone else; but it also really, really hurt to picture him in bed with the other gorgeous women of his pack.

You were insecure of your mundane genes, often comparing yourself with the strong and fierce she-wolves who had helped your boyfriend through his heats.

Namjoon spoke softly, “The past few months my wolf has been rejecting anyone who isn’t you. He wants to mate you, mark you as ours. Your ovulation must’ve sped up my heat. I can’t go on anymore without making you mine Y/N... for good.”

You were feeling strangely warm, you had obviously had sex with your boyfriend but you knew heat sex was in an entirely different league of its own.

All you could do now was nod your consent.

Namjoon stepped towards you, hands reaching out to capture your waist as his head lowered to your face.

His cheek grazing against yours, his lips brushed your earlobe as he mumbled into your ear, “Let me fuck a baby into you, Y/N. Let me breed you, please.”

You whined unconsciously at his words. Your belly warm and heat seeping through your panties. You whispered back, “Y-yes.”

With a swift change in demeanour his lips came crashing down to yours, large and calloused hands grabbing roughly at your hips as if afraid to let you go.

He growled into the kiss, his usually soft lips now tasting different because of the sheer dominance that radiated off of him.

His tongue swept against yours, making you moan wildly into his mouth, your own smaller hands grabbing onto his broad shoulders, fingers finding purchase in the thick, soft hair that curled gently at the nape of his neck.

His hand roamed south to the flesh of your ass as he cupped them with his hands and squeezed a cheek, tearing a gasp from your mouth at the surprising gesture.

Begrudgingly he pulled away from the kiss, releasing soft pants courtesy of your little makeout sesh, “Y/N I’ll ask you again, sweetheart. Are you absolutely sure you want me to mark you?”

You didn’t know if you had it in you to verbally say it, so you nodded shyly.

One of his hands came up to your chin as he gently angled your face upwards to gaze directly into his eyes.

“Use your words angel, a nod isn’t consent,” he rasped.

“I want you, Joon,” you whimpered as your eyes fell to the floor once again, unable to face your boyfriend as you openly declared your need for him.

“I want to be yours, only yours.”

You felt, rather than saw the smile creeping onto his expression.

He cupped the backs of your thighs as he hoisted you up to wrap your legs around his waist. His bulge pressing against your core. You whimpered at the soft brushes of his crotch against your clothed clit with each step he took towards your bedroom.

You giggled, the rush of hormones making you feel lightheaded as you whispered into his ear, “You grew really fast, Joonbug. Happy to see me?”

Namjoon chuckled under his breath as he looked at the spot where your cores met, and then when he brought his gaze up to meet yours you could see the shift in personality.

Your little puppy was gone. This man right here in front of you was all wolf.

He smirked at you before he answered softly, “That’s just half-hard, angel.”

Your eyes grew comically wide, surprise etched onto your expression as you once again looked down to the bulge in his trousers.

That’s what it usually looked like when you fooled around before.

You looked back up at him with questioning as he answered your unasked question, “I... change, during my heats. A lot of things about my body are going to be different when I’m like this. But I promise I’ll be very, very gentle.” He said with a soothing smile. His voice calming you down even when loaded with lust.

Slowly his arms fell to your sides as he brought your (his) sweatshirt over your head and threw it aside, followed by your shorts and then your panties.

It felt weird, being naked in front of a fully clothed Namjoon. But it also somehow made you feel safe, as if you could trust him with every piece of yourself.

Namjoon then laid you down on the bed, his hands travelling from your neck down to your heaving breasts.

His mouth working at your jaw as his skilled hands massaged the flesh of your chest, palming your nipples as his fingers tweaked and pulled at the stiff peaks.

He kissed the spot at the base of your throat that had you gushing wetness out onto the sheets. His fingers skimmed across your stomach as he finally, finally touched your core, drawing a surprised gasp from you.

His middle finger swept across your sensitive nub as he spread your juices around, stroking it and sending jolts of pleasure through your nerves.

Two fingers sank into your warm opening as he gasped at the feeling of your tight grip around him. Slowly pushing them in, in an attempt to prepare you for what’s to come.

You could hear the wet, squelching noises emanating from your cunt as Namjoon’s fingers fastened their pace.

He was having trouble tearing his gaze away from the view, his thick fingers thrusting into your pretty, quivering pussy. Creamy juices flowing down your thighs as you gasped his name softly in a medley of moans and whimpers.

You tried to straighten out your legs to cope with the intense pleasure building at the pit of your belly, warmth flowing through your body as you felt yourself get closer to that familiar edge.

Namjoon’s fingers curled as the tips grazed against the spot inside you that had you seeing stars every time.

You could vaguely make out the sound of his voice, as if you were listening through glass, “Cum for me, angel. Feel my fingers inside your filthy, little cunt and cum for me.” That was all it took for the dam inside you to burst as you groaned in pleasure. Your cunt quivering around your boyfriend’s fingers as he helped you ride out your orgasm.

The both of you waited a few moments, listening to each other’s breathing when you sat up straight and leaned foward to whisper in his ear, “Come on, it’s my turn to help you out.”

Namjoon, to your surprise, shook his head in refusal. “If you suck me off I’ll finish in ten seconds and the only place I’m cumming tonight is in your pussy, baby girl.”

You could feel the goosbumps rising on your arms at his words. He reached out and pushed you down once again, “I’ve got to prepare you well if you’re gonna take my cock, sweetheart,” he said as he ran his fingers down your torso, “So lie back, and let me taste you.”

You could feel him grinning against your thighs, his hot breath on your messy cunt making you shiver in anticipation.

His tongue swiped a kitten lick up and down your lips as a single finger pressed against your abused clit. The warm and wet appendage nudging at your opening as you gasped at the sensation.

You reached down to your boyfriend’s head between your thighs and roughly grasped strands of his hair in an attempt to cope with the overstimulation.

Soft, long strokes against your core sending shocks down to your toes as you arched your back against the sheets. Already reeling from your previous orgasm you could feel yourself reaching the end once again, much faster this time.

You felt incredibly hot, sweat forming on your forehead as Namjoon teased your clit with his mouth, gently nipping the bud with his teeth.

His hot tongue poked at your entrance and ever so gently eased in, his nose bumping against your bundle of nerves making you gasp at the sudden intrusion.

He looked up at you with his mouth still on your core, smirking and the next thing you knew you were bursting with pleasure, hot liquid splashing on your thighs as your legs jerked violently through your climax.

You could hear Namjoon’s faint chuckles, “Whoa Y/N, did I just make you squirt?” You blushed and covered your eyes with your fingers to escape his shit-eating grin. But his strong arms pulled your much smaller hands away from your face as he sat up towards you and attacked your neck once again.

His soft, plump lips mouthing at your collarbones as he drew marks across the skin. Blood red splotches that were sure to turn purple the next day. Namjoon murmured softly, “You’re mine. All of you, it’s all mine. Isn’t it, Y/N?”

You hummed in respone as you threw your head back and relished in the feeling of his breath on your neck as he bit and marked you to his desire.

He pulled back after what felt like minutes, the faint light of the moon creating a halo behind his back.

His large frame towering over yours as he spread your legs with a grip on your thighs.

He rushed to pull his t-shirt off his sculpted torso as you fumbled with the buttons of his trousers, helping him to discard the last piece of clothing keeping you from him.

The sight of his naked cock drew an audible gasp from you, it was double the size you were used to and angry red in colour. The weeping slit at the head thoroughly wetting his shaft with precum.

Namjoon touched your cheek gently to calm you, he rubbed his cock up and down your messy cunt. You leaned into his palm as he finally nudged at your opening.

You tried hard not to scream as he pushed the rest of it in, pain and pleasure intermingling as you felt like you were losing your virginity all over again.

He leaned his face down close to yours and whispered, “It’s okay, angel. Relax, take your time and get used to me, okay?”

You mumbled a small, “Mhm, okay.” Your voice straining as you felt like you were being split open. Minutes flew by and gradually you grew used to Namjoon’s size and girth inside you.

You mumbled, “You can move now, Joon.”

You could see the result of holding himself back in his expression and the way his arms shook around you.

You knew being so close to you and still not going feral was extremely difficult for him, let alone impossible for younger wolves.

But you also knew that he would never do anything to hurt you, even if it meant depriving himself of his most primal instincts instead of fucking you senseless.

He nodded in response and gave you an experimental thrust. You couldn’t help but moan at the sensation. His cock was so large you were stuffed full with no escape.

But you wanted more. You were done with being treated like a glass doll, you wanted him to let go and fuck you like he would any other she-wolf from his pack.

“I thought werewolves were tougher than this when they fucked. Or is it just you who’s scared to hurt me?” you piped up, feeling unusually feisty.

Namjoon looked up at you, his eyes piercing into yours, expression hardening upon hearing your remark. “You wanted to fuck a werewolf so bad,” he spoke softly, “Well then, take it like a big girl, Y/N.”

He thrust into you exceptionally hard, your body moving up against the mattress because of the force. His deliciously thick cock dragging against the soft, wet muscles of your cunt as he buried his nose into the crook of your neck.

Your eyes rolled back into your skull while you tried to process the immense pleasure running through you. Namjoon’s hands gripping your thighs, his balls slapping against your ass as he pushed his cock in and out of you.

You could feel every ridge, every nerve of Namjoon’s cock plunging into your pussy.

The squelching, wet noises emanating from your sex making you feel even more perverse, the obscene sounds filling your ears as you turned wetter by the second at the feel of his blunt cockhead buried deep inside you, massaging the spot that made you see stars.

Pleasure shooting through your veins and warming your belly as you felt the mixture of your juices and his precum slide down your thighs and the cheeks of your ass.

Rough, calloused hands gripping at the soft flesh of your hips with such force you were sure to find purple bruises littered the next day.

“J-joon, please make me cum. I wanna cum so bad, I can’t take it anymore! Please!” you garbled through the impact of his powerful thrusts, the sheer speed and force slamming you back into the bed with each movement of his hips.

You could hear him chuckle in your ear, the bastard.

“Tsk-tsk Y/N, be a good girl for me. You’ll cum when I want you to.” He grunted, “For now, you’re just gonna have to take it.”

A whine of frustration left your lips, the sinful noises combining with Namjoon’s almost painfully big cock assaulting your poor pussy.

You could hear your boyfriend whisper above you, “I wish you could look at your pussy right now. Oh god you’re so swollen, you’re dripping all over my cock like the little cumslut you are, waiting for me to give you my seed.”

You clenched around his cock at the thought of being filled with cum.

His cum.

“Fuck! You just got so much tighter, angel. You like that, huh? You want me to fuck my cum into you, breed you like my obedient little bitch? Gonna fill you up with my cum so you can carry my pups, my pretty little whore.”

You whined at his words, just the image of your poor, abused cunt filled with his thick cum had you salivating.

To your surprise, he had you flipped over and onto your stomach in the matter of a second.

Your ass raised instinctively while he gripped your hips with one hand with the other secure on your neck, squeezing just lightly enough to let you breathe but tight enough for you to know who owned you.

His hips snapped into yours rhythmically, his groans falling like music in your ears. Your tits bounced against your chest with each thrust he threw upon you. His balls slapped against your clit with every rough thrust, adding more to your already throbbing core.

You could feel the hot tears run down your cheeks, the overwhelming pleasure becoming too much for you to process.

The luxurious ache returning to your core you moaned his name without a care for who listened.

You could feel his hot breath nearing your neck as he drew his face close to your shoulder.

His teeth sank into the flesh as you screamed in pleasure and pain. Searing hot shocks ran through your veins as Namjoon licked at the thin rivulets of blood running down your skin. The tears flowing once again as you gasped from the thrusts.

The thought of being marked and belonging to your man had you squeezing against the large cock inside you. Namjoon had stood you up so now your back was pressed up against his hard chest while he pistoned into your thoroughly used cunt.

The hand that was once at your hip came down to rub at your neglected clit as you gasped and moaned in pleasure, the incredible pressure inside you building rapidly. His hand at your throat gently squeezing, just the way you liked it.

Namjoon’s fingers were furiously rubbing at your nub using your combined juices as lube. You had barely the energy to mumble, “Joon, I-I’m cumming! Please, baby I wanna cum so bad, please let me cum!”

You knew you sounded pathetic but to your fortune Namjoon was close to his end too, his grip having gone considerably harsher and cock largened even more inside you.

“Let go for me, slut.” he growled into your ear as you crashed once again, this time even harder thanks to the added stimulation, knowing that you were marked and now rightfully intertwined with the love of your life.

Namjoon came with a grotesque growl, hot, thick cum spurting inside you as he laid you down once again.

Hovering over you as he shot rope upon rope of his seed inside your warm, welcoming cunt.

After a minute when he was sure he was all drained out he removed his cock and instead plugged two fingers inside you, saying with an apologetic, “Gotta make sure we don’t spill.”

You giggled at his strange, instinctive behaviour.

“You know that’s not how it works, don’t you?” you said with a tired smile.

He looked at you with overwhelming love and tenderness, that favourite smile of yours painting across his beautiful face.

“Wolf habits die hard, I guess?”

[kuiinncedes]

PROMPT LIST? cheerio!tina & skank!quinn, angst #37, quinntina ofc

yes prompt list!! sorry this took so long, thanks sm for prompting sim <33

some pre-notes: first that wow this got long again 😂 2398 words (before probably some edits in the tumblr post editor) *oops i did it again*

1 2 3 these are my other three (very short) “installments” for this “verse” i guess 🤪 i wouldn’t say it’s required to read them tho i think everything is pretty understandable 🥰

this also got a little anti rachel lol 🥴 and anti schue but like yeah and i think that’s it 😗

Angst 37: “Lie to me. I don’t care what you say, just lie to me. Make me feel okay again.”

--

Glee club has been going well… all things considered.

Including the fact that Quinn’s crush on Tina only grows, that Rachel Berry still doesn’t seem to warm up to her and Kurt’s presence in the choir room, that the teacher really kind of sucks and apparently only Kurt and Quinn see it, that most of the other members are still wary around them - around Quinn.

But not Tina. Tina, who’s one of the most popular girls in school, not actually head of the Cheerios but probably the most well-liked, and there’s a reason. Tina is the first to welcome her and Kurt to the glee club after their audition, the first to make an effort to befriend them. She talks to Kurt about fashion, and Kurt is hesitant to bring down his facade but Quinn can tell how much he loves it, how much he’s missed talking about something that brings him so much joy. Even with his temporary and purposely limited wardrobe situation, he’s talked Quinn’s ear off about the things he wants to do and wear in New York City; she doesn’t understand much of it so she’s glad Tina does.

And she talks to Quinn. Tina actually talks to Quinn like… like she’s a person, just another student at this school, not Quinn Fabray, half of the most cold and closed-off duo that walks the halls, ex-most popular girl in school, Quinn Fabray with an unspeakable history, unspeakable in that Quinn will have consequences for those who speak about it. 

It’s dramatic, she knows. But it’s part of her untouchable image at this piece of shit school with its horrible students. 

Not Tina. Tina’s not horrible.

(Get a grip, Fabray.)

It feels like she and Kurt are on the edge of a precipice with glee club. Tina likes them, Blaine is nice enough to them (Kurt seems to like him, too), Rachel isn’t very welcoming, everyone else mostly ignores them. (Which is fine - preferable, really.)

They sway in the back, they sing, they do their part. And Quinn has missed singing, so it’s not all bad, she supposes.

But Quinn can feel the tension, the others’ hesitation whenever she and Kurt walk in to sit in the back, their unspoken thoughts, loud in their silence, their barely hidden glances.

She feels like she’ll tumble from the edge with one push.

One day, Tina sits beside Quinn and she can’t stop her jump of surprise. Tina just shoots her a small smile and moves her chair a bit further away, but Quinn finds herself wishing she would scoot the other way instead.

Tina keeps sitting by Quinn, and Quinn has no idea why.

She ignores the way her heart speeds up a little every time she makes eye contact with Tina, the way Kurt smirks knowingly at her but then returns to staring at the back of Blaine Anderson’s head, the way she can’t stop letting her eyes wander over to Tina every time Mr. Schuester starts talking about something she has no interest in (which she admits is very often).

Kurt had said glee would give her the chance to talk to Tina. And he was right - she’s made conversation with Tina multiple times (mostly initiated by Tina, though), and she would say they’re friends. Tina has said they’re friends and she definitely didn’t freak out to Kurt about it.

Kurt she called me her friend holy shit -

Inside voice, honey. Your gay is showing.

Shut - we’re literally outside. Let’s talk about you and Blaine.

Nope, fuck you, walking away now.

Kurt - wait! She - but she called me her friend - Kurt -

Besides Kurt, Tina is probably the person she’s closest with. Which still doesn’t say much - she’s not close to anyone besides Kurt…

But she wants to be, she thinks as she watches Tina perform an upbeat solo, a song she doesn’t recognize, but she watches her - how alive she looks, how good she sounds. It’s not like Quinn hasn’t heard her sing in the months since she’s joined, but if she had it her way, Tina would be the only one singing in this entire group. (She would insist on highlighting others, though, so Quinn adds herself and Kurt to that list. Not that they would ever get a solo.)

“All right, guys,” Mr. Schuester says. Kurt nudges Quinn with his elbow to get her to pay attention, and she shoots him a half-hearted glare. 

“So that was everyone who signed up to audition for a solo at regionals,” he continues. “I’ll let you know who we’re featuring by tomorrow. So I’ll see you then!”

“Who do you think is gonna get it?” Kurt asks as they leave, walking out to the parking lot. 

“Um…” 

“Right, I forgot, you’re too busy staring at Tina to know what’s going on in glee.”

Quinn scoffs. “I know what’s going on in glee.”

Kurt gives her a questioning look.

“I do! Sure, I didn’t know about the auditions, but I know Rachel’s probably getting the solo, even though it should go to Tina.”

“Anyone could tell you that.”

Quinn shoves Kurt lightly, a smile spreading across her face as they get into his car. Quinn’s been spending more time at Kurt’s lately - Quinn’s parents don’t give a fuck about her - they did the bare minimum allowing her to stay when she was pregnant and they’ve used up all their good parenting cards, it seems. She’s infinitely grateful for Burt Hummel, because if the kids and some of the teachers at school are going to treat her and Kurt like shit, at least there’s someone in their corner.

-

Completely unsurprisingly, Mr. Schuester announces Rachel as the soloist for regionals the next day, after years of the same thing, from what Quinn has heard.

Surprisingly, Tina isn’t in the room. Although, Quinn thinks, she wouldn’t be either if she knew what the outcome was going to be. And everyone knew what the outcome was going to be.

But Mercedes pushes back against his decision anyway, Santana complains, Blaine and Brittany try to placate, Kurt watches Blaine, Rachel jabbers about her destiny as the New Directions soloist or something, Quinn sits and wonders about the empty chair next to her. (She also wonders what would be the easiest way to get Rachel to shut the fuck up.)

She’s not paying attention, letting everyone’s arguing fade into the background. She barely registers Rachel saying shrilly, “We’re supposed to be a family!”

“Not much of a family when you’re the only one who can have anything good!” Mercedes snaps.

“I bet you wouldn’t react like this if Kurt or Quinn got the solo! Like they would even deserve it! At least I belong here, they don’t even - ”

“Would you shut - ” Mercedes starts at the same time Santana yells back, “Quinn doesn’t need a family, she’s a mother!”

And she knows - Quinn knows - that Santana just does this, she says shit and hurts people and this is just that and it’s whatever but -

Suddenly Quinn is in sophomore year again, hearing the taunts of her classmates behind her back and to her face. Suddenly she’s in sophomore year again, somehow invisible in the halls but also the only person anyone was looking at, pointing at, laughing at. She’s in sophomore year again and teachers do nothing to help her, no one but Kurt bothers to notice anything but the fact that she’s pregnant. And they laugh, and they taunt, and they stare.

She’s a mother. 

There it is. There’s the edge of the cliff that she has been fighting for balance on in this stupid club for months. 

Like they would even deserve it.

They don’t belong here.

And Quinn’s falling.

“I need to go, meet you at your car,” she says roughly to Kurt, who it seems hasn’t been paying attention at all, more focused on committing to memory the details of Blaine Anderson from halfway across the room. Quinn storms out and the arguing continues behind her.

Quinn slams the door to the bathroom as she barges in and all at once, sees that Tina is here (Tina is here?), realizes that she herself is crying, trying not to make noise and she just throws her bag on the floor and sinks down against a wall, hands around her knees and head leaned back. It’s too fucking much.

“Quinn?” Tina asks gently, so gently and Quinn watches as Tina kneels down in front of her. “Are you okay?”

Quinn wipes at her face, laughing harshly. “Yeah. Fine.”

Tina looks at her, not moving but just watching her. Quinn thinks it must be uncomfortable for her to kneel on the bathroom floor in her Cheerios outfit. Quinn thinks that Tina shouldn’t care about her, she should just leave, save her knees from the cold tile.

She doesn’t leave. 

After a moment, Tina says, “Hey, so, you don’t have to tell me anything… but I’m here if you need to.”

Quinn’s not actively crying anymore, grey smudges on her fingers where her makeup was wiped off. Her face probably looks like a nightmare, but she’s too exhausted to care. She leans her head back again and fixes her gaze just above Tina’s head, at the ceiling, the harsh bathroom lights piercing her vision through the tears in her eyes.

“I just - ” I guess I’m talking, she thinks, “Santana said something dumb about me being a mother and that’s what I heard sneered at me every day for months and even now still… and I’m not…”

Quinn trails off, looking at Tina again who nods, encouraging her to continue. She swallows and averts her gaze again.

“…and Rachel said something dumb about Kurt and I not belonging and not deserving it but she’s Rachel and I don’t care about the shit she says - I usually don’t. But her saying that - ” she scoffs. “Newsflash, Rachel, we don’t fucking belong anywhere.”

That was painfully made obvious sophomore year, with Quinn’s exit from the Cheerios, from popularity. It was obvious when no matter what, she couldn’t get it back, any of it. It was obvious when she and Kurt were the only ones to really notice each other and help each other. It was obvious when the only choice they had, the one they took, was becoming this and isolating themselves. It was obvious when the only chance they had was each other.

As if she needs someone else to tell her that, to rub it in.

It’s been building up, she realizes, this feeling, the hatred, the estrangement and isolation. She wonders if Kurt feels the same, how close he is to the edge, or if he’s even on a precipice like she is at all.

Quinn’s falling, she doesn’t know when or how it will end and she just wants -

“Lie to me,” she says to Tina, teeth clenched and voice tired. “I don’t care what you say, just lie to me. Make me feel okay again.”

Falling, falling, falling - 

Quinn thinks bitterly that she should be used to it after her falls from popularity.

Tina takes her hands gently and squeezes them in reassurance. “I know this might just seem like words, and I’m not lying - you do belong. Both of you. You belong in glee club. You belong here.”

Quinn just swallows again, letting the words wash over her, and in the back of her mind, the part that’s not thinking about - everything, she marvels at the fact that Tina is holding her hands, and Tina’s skin is soft, and Tina’s words and actions feel genuine.

Falling… slowing.

Lie to me.

“We don’t belong. Everyone hates us,” Quinn mutters.

“I don’t,” Tina says, smiling a little. “I know we can be pretty difficult, the glee club, but we really don’t think that. Rachel might - if I’m being honest, I think she’s the one who doesn’t belong in glee club, for a multitude of reasons - but it really is supposed to be a safe, welcoming space. I’m really sorry we haven’t been able to do that for you.”

Quinn shrugs. “You have,” she admits softly. 

Tina looks like she doesn’t know what to say to that. Quinn pushes herself up against the wall, a little awkwardly, hands still intertwined with Tina’s, who squeezes again. “I’ll talk to her,” Tina says. “Rachel. I’ve been getting fed up with her shit, anyway. I’ve been needing to talk to her.”

“Okay,” is all Quinn can think to say, quietly uttered, her voice a little choked. “You don’t have to - ”

“No, I do,” Tina says. “And I want to. Mr. Schue lets her get away with way too much.”

Quinn huffs a laugh and Tina grins slightly, then withdraws her hands and pulls them through her ponytail, suddenly looking almost nervous. Quinn drops her hands in her lap and plays with her rings. Now that Quinn’s calmed down, her proximity-to-Tina-Cohen-Chang-induced nerves are back in full force. 

And maybe she isn’t falling anymore.

“Why weren’t you there today?” she asks after a moment.

Tina’s lips clench into a line. “Knew Rachel was getting the solo. I don’t know, I didn’t want to deal with that today, you know? Three years of the same shit, I’m just tired of it.”

Quinn hums in understanding. She can imagine.

“Are you okay? What do you say we… get out of here? Go somewhere?” Tina asks a little awkwardly, wincing slightly as she stands up and extends a hand for Quinn. She takes it and lets Tina pull her up.

“I’m actually… going home with Kurt, ” - but going somewhere with Tina - Kurt will understand - “actually, yeah, sure. I’ll let him know,” Quinn answers, not letting herself doubt the decision, pulling her phone from her pocket and quickly typing out a text and sending it to Kurt, who immediately responds.

omg did u actually talk and get a date with tina cohen chang

Quinn replies, fuck you, i’m leaving bye

are you okay?

yeah, fine i’ll talk to you later

ok have fun on your date ;)

yeah 🖕

Tina bounces a little and shoots her a smile when she puts her phone away. “Awesome. There’s this coffee shop that I think you’ll love - ”

“It’s not the Lima Bean, is it?”

Tina laughs. “Of course not. Barely anyone knows about this place, at least from school, so I really love it there.”

Tina grabs Quinn’s hand again and they head out of the school, Quinn ignoring how she can feel her pounding heartbeat against Tina’s skin. Hopefully Tina doesn’t notice.

*****

some notes for after 🤪

ok so i don’t really know why i used the “she’s a mother” line and idk if i’m just overthinking it but i’m not saying that scene was bad or anything ?? idk lol it was just on my mind i guess so i put it in slkdgfj (basically,, not related to the canon scene lol i just like adding canon lines 😗)

i think the point i was trying to make if any was that quinn doesn’t really have any family (in this au) so yeah it’s kind of a sensitive point

i did say this was very similar to my previous werewolf!quinn and vampire!tina fic but i’m okay with it now tbh,,, you know like it’s an alternate universe and they just help each other in all universes :’) yeah

i would love to continue this but i don’t have the best track record with that lol so we’ll see 😂

[pinguinosentado]

heyo, quick question about your writing process. do you tend to really plan each chapter in depth or do you just... go with the flow with a general idea of where you want to the chapter to go? i find going with the flow works better for me but i always end up deviating from the plot and/or stumbling onto a whole other subplot, which isn't a bad thing but having to make it all connect to the main plot is becoming a pain, so i thought i'd ask you because your writing always seems to flow well :P

Great question. It depends on the story. After working through Nightfall a couple times and actually trying this strategy with Spiralling, I think I have a decent idea going forward of how I want to write big stories and it involves going through multiple drafts as follows:

Draft 1 I just eyeballed it and let plot points work themselves out. This is where I do the "wouldn't it be cool if..." stuff and your story kind of looks like a DnD campaign. Things don't have great continuity, you've got murder hornets in there for one chapter for some reason, but you also have great moments that crop up because you're not too worried about the little things.

Draft 2 is where I make it look like this was the plan all along. Rewrite pretty much everything, make dialogue more snappy, clean up TODO tags, all that stuff.

Drafts after this are for editing and have much more minor changes.

It takes a long time to go through the process but I think it really helps me trim down parts of the story I don't want to pursue and expand the more interesting parts. Sometimes the only way to know if a story is worth telling is by writing it down. That's how you get halfway through and realize there's no endgame so you don't end up bogging down your main story by trying.

At the end of the day I think planning each chapter in depth isn't quite as important as broadly planning story arcs and making sure they intertwine meaningfully. If the reader can see progress and feel like thins are happening, they're more likely to stick around for the next chapter.

Or just do what I did for Better Lucky than Good and just send it. Radroach? Uh, chocolate bar! They're friends now. Raiders? More competent raider kills them! Oops, made her too competent, now people are simping for her. Guess she's a mainstay now. I feel like it's worked out. Maybe continuity isn't all its cracked up to be and people are just looking for a good time. Take the Hitchhiker's Guide approach - be weird and have fun.

Sorry for the rambling answer. Thanks so much for the question and for implying my writing has any semblance of direction.

[fabrowrites]

Oh, can I be your Bibilly Hills?

For Lloyd’s very late birthday! also on ao3 and ffn.net.

----------

Kai stands at the entrance to the cafeteria.  The bustle in the room is loud with kids meeting up with their friends, the snapping open of lunchboxes, and chairs and tables being squeaked across the floor.

Kai exhales.  He hikes his backpack higher onto his back.  Then he squares his shoulders and walks over to the table in the far corner of the room where only one person sits, despite the overcrowding at all the rest of the tables.

Lloyd Garmadon’s eyes lift as Kai drops into the seat across from him, only to return to his plate again just as quickly.  One by one, the rest of their secret ninja crew arrive.  They send glances at each other, and at Lloyd, who has started to eat his food with laser-like focus.  

It’s only been a week since Master Wu gathered them all together for a “very important meeting”.  It’s only been a week since he told them they were ready to take the next step in their team-building.  It’s only been a week since their eternally-masked leader took off his hood, only to reveal the son of Ninjago City’s very own warlord hiding beneath it.

Needless to say, conversation is stilted.  

A hand comes down on the table with a resounding smack.  Chen, captain of the cheer team, leans over their table.  “Hey, look, everyone,” he says mockingly.  “Garmadork has a dork squad now.”  He gives their table an obvious once-over, grin widening.  “Aw, why are you sitting with him?  Are your daddies super-villains too?”

“Hi, Chen,” Lloyd says.  “Nice insult.  Much more original than your last one- what was it?  The Bad Dad Lad?”

Chen’s face twists up in a sneer.  His hand snakes out and smacks Lloyd’s water bottle over, instantly flooding his lunch.  “Oops,” he says, sounding not at all sorry.  “I didn’t see that there!  Hope that wasn’t all you had.”

He saunters off, looking inordinately pleased with himself.  Lloyd, on the other hand, stares for several long seconds at his ruined lunch.  Kai expects him to look furious, or at the very least, upset, but there’s only this sad sort of look on his face.  Like he’d been expecting it to happen.  It’s so awful to look at that something in Kai snaps.  

“Here, have some of mine,” he says, shoving his bento forward.  “I always take too much rice anyways.”

Nya gives him a near-imperceptible nod from across the table; she’s thinking the same thing.  God, Kai loves his sister so much.  “This is true,” she says.  “The day Kai doesn’t bring home leftovers is the day he’s been replaced by his evil clone.”

Kai opens his mouth, intending to say just what he thought of that, when a quiet noise brings him back to the situation at hand.  Lloyd looks at them both, mouth parting slightly.  “Are you sure?” he asks, but he can’t disguise the way he’s already eying the bento up.

“Take it,” Kai insists. “It’s not doing me any good sitting here.”

Kai can see Lloyd’s hesitation wavering.  A moment later, the other boy accepts it with a quiet, “thank you”.  

The other ninja are watching.  Kai catches their eyes and mouths ‘later’ above Lloyd’s head.  After lunch wraps up, and Lloyd excuses himself to use the restroom, they all gather near the window.

“What happened at lunch-” Kai says without preamble- “it can’t happen again.”  It’s not like he was expecting them to protest, but something warms in his chest at how intensely they immediately nod.  They must look like a pack of bobbleheads to anyone passing by.

“He was just so sad,” Nya says.  “It makes me want to punch something.  Preferably Chen’s face.”

Jay backs a step away from her, laughing that nervous laugh of his.  Cole hums.  His ever-present headphones are hanging around his neck, which is how Kai knows just how seriously he’s taking it.  Headphone removal: truly the highest form of respect in the modern age.  “We should do something for him,” he says.

“Normal human teenager things?” asks Zane.

“Exactly!” says Kai.  “He’s an only child!  I bet he’s never had a blanket fort before!”

“We can make it at his house so he can keep it up longer,” Cole says.  “I’ve dropped off homework for him before.  I still have his address in my phone.”

“I’ll take him out after school to the comic book shop so you guys have more time,” Jay offers.  He twists his hands in his ever-present orange scarf.  

“And we’ll get the snacks,” Nya finishes.  She sticks her hand out.  The rest of them do too, and then there’s a period of silence where they look at each other awkwardly.  Wow, they really are lost without Lloyd.

Cole sighs.  “Ninja go,” he says.

“Ninja go!” Kai says.  The game is afoot.  

------------

The walk to the comic books shop is literally the definition of awkward silence.  

Jay and Lloyd walk three feet apart on the sidewalk.  Their eyes meet fleetingly across the way before skittering away.  People who pass them stare, and Jay ducks his head and meeps at each hateful glare sent his way.

“You don’t have to do this,” Lloyd mumbles.

Jay jumps.  “Huh?”  

Lloyd shoves his hands into his hoodie pocket.  “I said,” he says a bit louder, “you don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?” Jay says nervously.  He wrings his hands in his scarf.  “I’m not doing anything?”

Lloyd looks pointedly at his hands.  He huffs, dipping his head so his bangs cover his eyes,  “Make yourself be nice to me, or whatever it is that you and the rest of them are trying to do.  I have eyes, Jay,” he says, when Jay opens his mouth to protest.  He glances up at him through his curtain of hair, and something in his face softens.  “It’s okay.  I’m used to it.”

Jay doesn’t know what to say to that.  But something comes over him, and before he can talk himself out of it he’s bridging the gap to walk right beside Lloyd.  Lloyd looks up sharply.  

“We want to be nice to you,” he says softly.  “You’re part of our team, aren’t you?”

Lloyd snorts.  “Some might go as far to call me the leader,” he says, but there’s this quiet, sort of pleased look on his face.  It’s enough for Jay to stick by his side, even as they move towards the busier part of the city and the glares and angry whispers increase.  

It takes them about fifteen minutes to get to the comic book shop.  Jay swings the door open, inhaling that paper-ink-and-smelly-teenager scent he’s become intimately familiar with.  Lloyd follows more hesitantly, blinking at the racks upon racks of books, merch, and everything in between.  His eyes widen when they land on the display case right in front of them.  

“No way!” he says, springing forward.  “I didn’t know this came out!”

“What?” asks Jay, jumping sideways to see.  “Is that the new edition of Starfarer?  Wait, you like Starfarer too?”

Lloyd is already flipping through the chapter, eyes scanning the pages.  “It was my favorite as a kid!” he says excitedly.  ‘I didn’t know they were still making it.  The library only has through chapter sixteen.”

“I think there’s forty-two now,” Jay offers.  Lloyd gives him a look that’s halfway between horrified and delighted.  Jay can’t help but grin back.  He goes to say something else, but a sharp exhale nearby interrupts their moment.  

Two men are standing across the room, muttering and glaring alternatively at them.  No, at Lloyd.  One scowls at them and leaves, heading towards the front desk.

“We should go,” Lloyd says.  With great reluctance, he sets the comic back down and pats it into place.  “I don’t want you getting in trouble for me.”

It’s like that one tumblr post- and Jay will deny to the end that he has a tumblr- that’s like: ‘if somebody is more uncomfortable than me I am suddenly able to Do The Thing’.  “No, we just got here,” he says.  “We can’t leave yet.”

Lloyd looks obviously torn.  Jay sees the manager heading their way and makes the decision for him. Seizing his hand, he pulls Lloyd deeper into the store.  They speed-walk through the isles, ending up near the back.  

“They shouldn’t do that to you,” he says.  

Lloyd shrugs, eyes cast off to one side.  “It’s not like it’s anything new.”  

“Still,” Jay says, feeling his ears heat up.  The adrenaline of the moment has worn off, and now he’s feeling the embarrassment from his spontaneity.  “It’s not cool.”

Lloyd stares at him for several long seconds.  Jay squirms.  Lloyd looks like he wants to say something, but then his eyes slide past Jay and land on something behind him.

Lloyd’s entire face lights up.  “I thought they discontinued this years ago!”  He starts pawing through the container, making little mumbling comments and noises underneath his breath.  

Jay takes out his phone and surreptitiously sends a text to the group.  

bluejay: okay we are keeping him!!!

kaiguy: was that ever even an option?

-------------

The woman who opens the door for Cole and Zane looks… tired, for lack of a better way to put it.  Her hair is done up in a messy bun and there are dark circles under her eyes as she regards the pair of them warily.  

“Mrs. Garmadon?” asks Zane.

“Ms. Ito,” says the woman.  Her expression flattens the longer they stay silent.  “Look, if you’re looking to hassle me or Lloyd, it’s been a long day and-”

We’re some of Lloyd’s friends from school,” Cole blurts out.  He freezes the moment the words leave his mouth- interrupting someone?   Idiot, Mom taught you better than this - but the words themselves don’t feel false in his mouth.  They feel right, an unshakable truth like the laws of gravitation and motion, steady as the earth beneath his feet. He spares a look at Zane and finds the other nodding his agreement.

Lloyd’s mom, however, looks like she’s been slapped in the face.  ‘Friends?” she echoes, almost like she doesn’t believe them.  Which, as Cole reflects, shouldn’t be that surprising.  He’s seen the bullying at school firsthand.  A wave of regret knocks into him for all the times he’s stayed silent and watched- not participating, just not stepping in.  Never again, he swears to himself.  

While Cole’s been having this epiphany, Zane’s been barreling on ahead without him.  “Lloyd was harassed this morning in school,” he says primly.  “We want to build a structure of blankets for him in your apartment.”

Zane, Cole thinks, internally slapping his palm against his forehead.  

But Lloyd’s mom looks so grateful that Cole feels suddenly sick.  This woman has two complete strangers standing on her doorstep, practically demanding to be let in so they can destroy her house with pillows and blankets and loud teenagers.  She shouldn’t look like they’ve just saved her dog from a house fire.

“It’s really nothing,” he grits out.  “We just wanted to do something for him.”

He’s staring at the load of blankets in his arms, so he doesn’t see Lloyd’s mom move.  Suddenly, there are hands taking the pile from him.  Her face appears in front of his.  “It’s not nothing,” she says softly.  She doesn’t elaborate, but neither of them need her to.  “Come on in.  I’ll show you where everything is.”

------------

“Vegetable or Sriracha?’

“Does he like spicy things?”

Kai looks down at the two bags of chips in his hands.  “Both,” he decides.  “Both is good.”

Both their phones go off at the same time: Kai’s the default BorgPhone ringtone he’s never figured out how to change, Nya’s the Wilhelm Scream.  Nya digs hers out first.  “It’s Jay.”

Kai juggles the chips with the rest of the snacks in his arms.

jaybird: were almost done here

jaybird: well be at his house in like 20

jaybird: r u guys done yet?

do it for the vinyl: 👌

frozane: 😁 🥰 😚 😋 🤗 😇 🙃 😆 🤣 😘 🤪 🤩

Kai pockets his phone.  “Guess that’s our cue to go.”

They pay quickly and rush over to Lloyd’s house, using the address Cole had texted them all earlier.  

Kai hands off his bags to Zane, switching his shoes.  “Let’s see what you’ve done!”  He catches sight of the fort from the corner of his eye and his jaw drops.  “Woah.”

“Right?” Cole smirks.  

Kai’s too focused on the mass of colors and fabric swallowing up the living room, otherwise he would pick a fight.  He crawls through the entrance, a sheet hanging loose between two cushions.  

The fort is nearly tall enough to stand up in.  Cole and Zane have slung sheets from the lamp to the couch to a coat rack, using tape, clips and pillows to secure the blankets down.  A music stand supports the entire thing in the center.  Kai didn’t know that Lloyd took music, though maybe he should have expected it because, hello, Asian?  It seems like not knowing is a depressingly common thread running through all that they’ve been learning.

Kai squares his shoulders.  Nope.  Now’s not the time for beating himself up.  He’s just gonna do better, be better, from here on out.  

“Bring the snacks in already!” he hollers, sticking his head out the hole.  “Lloyd’s gonna be here any minute!”

Cole raises his eyebrow judgmentally, even as he passes him the bags of chips.  Nya has no such restraint and throws dried squid at his face.  

“Lloyd just texted to say he’s on his way,” Lloyd’s mom tells them from the kitchen entrance.  Kai thinks her expression is a mix of fear and awe, which is always a good reaction to one of Kai’s ideas.  

Kai can hear them now, feet thudding softly on the wood of the hallway through the thin walls.  They’re laughing at something- presumably a meme on Jay’s phone.  The dork has thousands of them.  Someone bangs against the door and then it swings open.  

“Hey, Mom,” Lloyd says, and Kai doesn’t think he’s ever heard him this happy.  The blond is switching his shoes, completely unaware of the spectacle behind him.  “Sorry that I’m late, we lost track of-”

He turns around and freezes.

“Surprise!” Kai shouts.  Behind Lloyd, Jay starts cheering.  Nya salutes him from her position sprawled on the couch and Cole and Zane wave at him from beside the fort.  

Lloyd’s mouth drops open.  “What?” he splutters.  “Wait, what’s going on?  What is all this?”

“Can’t we do something nice for our bro just ‘cause we feel like it?”  Kai crawls out and goes to him, slinging his arm across his shoulders.  

“Guys,” Lloyd says.  

To Kai’s horror, his eyes are wet around the corners.  Shoot, did they mess up?  “Don’t cry!” he yelps, voice cracking embarrassingly at the end.  “We’ll pick it all up, don’t worry!”

“No, no,” Lloyd says hurriedly.  “You did this for me?” he asks, awe in his voice. He glances around the room.  “All of you?”

“Of course,” Zane says.  “You are our friend.”

“We realized we’ve been a little lacking in that department,” Nya chimes in.  “So here’s us, making up for it!  We’re nowhere near done yet either,” she warns.  “Constant vigilance!”

Lloyd discreetly wipes his eyes.  “Thanks,” he says.  “I love a good threatening in my own living room.”

And for a moment, they all stay put in their places, grinning widely from Lloyd to each other.  Lloyd’s mom smiles softly, unseen, from where she stands in the kitchen.  

Kai grins.  The moment breaks.  “Well, don’t just stand there.  C’mon!  You’ve got to see what Cole and Zane did inside.”

[anonil88]

We Are Who We Are Ep 1 thoughts.

Heads up I've started writing these halfway into an episode so I'm immersed pretty into it and can make a well rounded reaction.

Interesting set up and premise. But I wonder how well this will be executed.

Very open free spirit household.

Those kids are pieces of shit for inviting him and then bullying him. He is a little weird but a sweetheart.

Also HE LIKES FASHION of course he does.

He's a bit of an alcoholic it seems or just likes alcohol which can teeter the line. Oh no he had to leave his lil boyfriend 😭.

Aw his other mom picked him up.

Ooo throw up shot nice smh.

This mustn't be the first time he's been drunk or gotten in trouble.

Sigh theres always a parent who saves the day no matter straight or gay.

Ahh military parents getting caught in their ego and ignoring their partners and kids.

Oooo "Americans can only be happy in America"...."This is America." Gotta love that US based are tiny bits of America but lineal spaces.

Wait is Fraser autistic? Or does he have any mental disorders? Maybe I'm only saying that because my family would have drop kicked me if I'd slapped my mom unless (when I was younger with less coping skills) was having an outburst of sorts.

Whattt dead? Whatttt? Oh he's still drunk.

Thank goodness he still had some clothes packrf like I would have had a full panic attack if my luggage was lost oversees with my designer clothes. (I'm assuming designer because his granddad has schmoney but he also gives me cates about his looks.)

Thats a nice jacket though, I think Commes Des Garcons is the brand or at least this is an inspired piece.

Oh okay Fraser I see you have some lil crushes forming. That soldier foine tho he's probably like 18. So eee idk bout that cause he's underage. (Edit: Fraser is 17 so if the soldier is 18 its not illegal but i'd rather Fraser not get community ass or dick. No more cmbyn Luca.)

The music selection is pretty great like Klaus Nomi ??

CUDI !!! Wait Cudi is their, Caitlin's dad :0

The military regulations are pretty clean. Her voice and commands could be a bit cleaner though. But maybe that's on purpose because shes gotta be nervous af now commanding a base.

Fuck you Colonel.

This base is pretty nice btw.

Oop okay subtle flirtatious behavior and noone can kick you out of the US military for being queer now...kind of. Oh he's just a giant flirt also again can we not do the minor and grown ass adult thing.

Loving Maggie and Fraser's relationship. But I feel like Sarah and Fraser's relationship is going to be whirlwind.

Oh thank the lord his clothes have come omg all designer/custom piece .

Just let them be them jeez everyone has to find themselves regardless of if you like or agree with it or not. Ahh Caitlin/Harper is living a double life hmm exploring their identity.

Lmfao Fraser said you're like me so lets talk, but I won't out you.

So overall thoughts the editing is a bit choppy like all over the place. Which is kind of disorienting and I don't know if a lot of people are going to enjoy that. Editing can really break shows even good ones. But characters wise I'll say Cait/Harper is a mystery and it took me a second but I got that they were staring at Fraser because Fraser seems very obviously nyc and probably more understanding. But they have no idea how to approach Fraser so they were just staring and tbh queer folk yes thats what we look like its sometimes obvious that we all stare at eachother with a certain wonder, confusion, and excitement even past the baby gay stage.

I feel like Fraser is a person who goes through the world in a daze like floating from one space to another. It makes him scatter brained and different, his interests vary but this is about him learning. I like him though just don't know much about him yet. Of course if I had to relate him to any character from another popular adult show that centers teens he's a more chaotic windmill version of Jules from Euphoria. Speaking of which I think this show might have a hard time carving out its own identity because of their shared platform. This premiere was like world building and very very vague so we only have touches on each character.

I will keep watching because I would like to see where this story is going to go. Also to see the acting chops of these new young actors. I am hoping that the next episode gives us the viewers more to hold onto rather than dental floss attached to ceiling post by nails. But, I just hope we get more clarity rather than just vague things we need to piece together in the future. Which btw works super well for movies but not always TV. So adapting that style to TV is gonna be interesting.

[Also funny how most actors first big role their characters name sounds like their name lol.]

Preview: so everyone just doing everyone but, this seems like it is going to be very sad and dark which is fine with me.

Sorry this is so long.

[bayrut]

thoughts on me 😌 jk Okay, thoughts on every solo album from each former member of one direction (but just the ones you wanna do, don’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable 👉🏽👈🏽)

thoughts on ceci: truly iconic i love her. best gifs, edits. funniest person. sweatest heart ever. deserves better. underrated.

i put my thoughts on each solo album under a cut because it got very long (took me 30 mins to write) and sorry i did not proof read i wanna go shower

okay let’s gooo

mind of mine-zayn: i’m gonna be honest, back when it came out i didn’t love it because it wasn’t my music style at all (still isn’t) but i knew it was good. like music can be good even if it’s not my style you know? but i had a few tracks i really loved a lot (for example, it’s you, she, intermission:flower, truth) that i loved a lot. but i have been relistening to the album for the last year and i think it’s really growing on me. but i still dislike pillowtalk, haven’t heard it since it came out, and probably never will again sorry i do not like it

hs1-h: when it came out i listened to it like 1 time, some songs i couldn’t finish, and i honestly don’t remember what they sound like (meet me in the hallway, carolina, only angel, kiwi, ever since new york, woman), the rest (sign of the times, two ghosts, sweet creature, from the dining table) i was like okay, maybe they’ll grow on me, so i listened to them for a while, maybe a month or two, still, they did not grow on me. some of the lyrics are quite sexist imo and make me uncomfortable. then i didn’t listen to them at all, apart for sott since it was played on radios etc. i heard hs1 one last time (not completely, only partly) around july 2018 because i watched a livestream of his last show? but i got bored halfway so didn’t watch it all. it was his only live show i’ve seen videos off. i’ve never heard those two unreleased songs he used to sing live ever (medecine, anna)

flicker-niall: i would like to send a kiss to mr niall james horan i love this album so much!! okay not all songs, but the majority make me feel so warm and i love them!! shout out to this town, seeing blind, paper houses, since we’re alone, flicker, and on my own. i don’t really like on the loose and slow hands, but not because they’re bad, i just can’t relate to them oops. also the orchestra version? amazing, probably the best decision niall has ever done his entire life!!! in conclusion, i love it, what a great opening for his career, iconic, i knew niall would deliver, but, it deserved better.

icarus falls-zayn: thank you king for all this good food i love it. no but really, zayn was like here’s 30 songs enjoy! like wow awesome. ok i don’t love the collabs on it, tbh i don’t listen to them. i like the vibe of the album, the story, the visual videos, etc a lot. it’s a very different feel from mind of mind, very refreshing, i love it a lot. although it’s thirty!!! songs, it leaves me at the edge of my seat asking for more, i can’t wait for his third album. my faves are definitely: let me, natural, common, stand still, flight of the stars, there you are, i don’t mind, satisfaction, entertainer, good years. it has a feel of a 3am drive with a friend, but you’re both not talking and you’re both going nowhere. that sad summer nostalgia. love it, makes me wanna cry.

lp1-liam: i honestly liked liam’s ep, and his singles, a lot better than his album. but he didnt write too many songs on them, it’s a bit weird because i can’t really judge liam’s music from it, since i don’t think it’s completely him. remember and heart meet break are probably my two faves from it.

fine line-h: thank God i have not heard any of those songs, and i hope i never will. i’ve read lyrics of it. very sexist i hate it thanks and can he stop singing about fruit? i like eating fruit he’s ruining it for me

heartbreak weather-niall: okay tbh the teasers were so cute and i was very excited for this album, the whole story concept etc, the colours etc. still to this day idk if i prefer flicker or HW because they’re both really good!! i think in terms of music, you can see a clear evolution from flicker to HW, he improved a lot. but still i love flicker because the songs make me wanna cry. some songs i can’t relate to at all: small talk, arms of a stranger, new angel, etc because niall is horny (which is valid but i’m asexual). but surprisingly i’m addicted to small talk from his live performance... makes me wanna scream i love it. my faves are heartbreak weather, dear patience, everywhere, still. i think still is the best song niall has ever written ever he can’t possibly outshine it it’s too good. 

walls-louis: ok i did them all in chronological order but left walls for the end because i just!!!! love it so much i will cry. there are only 2 artists for which i can not skip any songs at all and louis is one of them i’m not exaggerating. any other artists i like (even like, mika) have made some song-mistakes. louis no. never. never has and never will i know it in my heart. walls means so much to me but before i get into that can i just say i love the 4 pre walls songs???? they deserved better rest in peace 2017!lt1. ok so now walls. it is so personal, the lyrics are so so clever, the music is beautiful. my faves are kill my mind, don’t let it break your heart, two of us, we made it, too young, walls, habit, always you, fearless, perfect now, defenceless, only the brave, (and yes i am adding the japan bonus tracks because i am BITTER), just hold on, miss you. yes i did just list the whole album no i do not care you are not allowed to complain about that. this summer at work i was so bored i’d just sit in the sun and sing all of louis’ discography in my head on loop. and i’d listen to walls 1/2 on my way to work and 1/2 on my way back home. the album is so beautiful ceci sorry i am not making sense i am not eloquent at all but it means so much to me i can’t believe his album was delayed so long. i think because it was delayed, maybe the songs aren’t as coherent as in other albums. so let’s think about that for a second. if it’s a bit patchy and this good, what about lt2? it’s gonna be amazing so good he’s gonna kill it he’s just gonna get better and better and better i can’t wait to see it. i’m so thankful that we are allowed to experience louis as an artist, and louis growing as an artist over the years, because he will, and it’s gonna be so beautiful and i’m gonna cry a lot. my description did not do walls justice but know that i love it a lot okay

ask me about my thoughts on stuff 👀

[yuthoe]

aaa okay so looked at the rules and could you do their idol crush admitting that they’re their type but with yuto, wooseok and kino? 🥺

HELLO, I FINALLY DID IT, SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT.It’s almost 4AM here and I wanted to get this out in case I become unproductive again when I wake up. I was halfway through Kino’s part when I realized the reader should be gender-neutral, oops. It’s too late for me to edit it again right now, so it’s gonna stay like that. I’ll take care next time, tho.

WARNINGS: none. WORD COUNT: 842, 971, 632.

—

Yuto

“Yuto-ya,” Hui called from his spot on his tiny couch in Yuto’s studio. It’s one of his rare days-off, but he isn’t in the mood to go into the city, and staying in the dorm is too boring since everyone else is busy with their other stuff. So he just decided to tag along with Yuto to his studio and listen to him make some songs. He might even sneak in a nap or two since he hasn’t been sleeping well later—but all thoughts of sleep fly out the window as soon as he sees on his phone a newly uploaded video starring you, known in Pentagon as Yuto’s crush. “Yuto-ya, come here!” he says, tossing the stuffed teddy bear at the boy sitting by the computers.

The toy hits Yuto square in the head and he jumps, turning the seat around in confusion. “What is it, hyung?”

Hui turns the phone so the screen is visible to Yuto. “Isn’t this Y/N?���

A quick glance and, yes, it’s you. Yuto likes to think he can find you in a crowd, no matter how many hairstyle changes you gave or how much you try to blend in with your clothes, but that just comes off kind of creepy. He has watched a lot of your interviews; and you have a lot of them, being a big figure in a famous idol group. He’s just so captivated by your range, your stage presence… It just gets him breathless whenever he sees you perform.

Your group is in the middle of a comeback right now, and Yuto has been religiously keeping up with any promotional material for your group that’s been coming up, but he’s just been super focused on his music today that the only thing that shocked him out of the haze was the teddy bear thrown at his head. Yuto stares at the tiny phone screen for a second longer before getting off the office chair and squishing beside Hui on the couch that isn’t really made for someone of his size.

The video continues playing as his leader turns up the volume. Your group is sat on swivel bar chairs in a white studio set. Gosh, you look radiant, as always. The pleasantries are over and the topic has gone to the announcement your company made about being able to date openly. Yuto isn’t lying that there was a tiny spark of hope that lit up inside him when he first heard of the news. But of course, that was just wishful thinking, since he doesn’t think you actually know him anyway. Sure, you may have heard of Pentagon the group, but there isn’t as big a chance of you taking an interest in him.

Being seated on the farthest chair from the hosts, your answer is saved for last. The other members of your group dodged the question by saying they weren’t really looking to date anyone or dropping names like J.Seph from KARD or Vernon from Seventeen being their ideal type of guy. You take a second or two more to think about your answer and say, “I’d like to get to know Yuto from Pentagon more.”

“Oooohhh,” the hosts exclaim. “He’s one of the rappers isn’t he?” one of them asks.

“Yes,” you say politely, smiling. Yuto isn’t sure if you’re actually red in the face or if that’s just the blush on your cheeks. “I really like the flow of his raps, and his voice is really nice.”

“Ahh, so you’re saying you like tall guys, yes?” the other host teases.

You laugh, slightly embarrassed. “I guess? I don’t really have a type, but Yuto was the first person to pop into my head who I am really interested in and would like to get to know.”

The hosts nod in approval, and your group members seated around you slap you playfully for admitting something like that.

Hui releases a high-pitched siren sound and playfully slaps Yuto playfully on the arm with his free hand. “Do you hear that, Yuto? Seems they like you, too. I wonder if we can go to one of their recordings for this comeback, hmm… Or maybe if our comebacks coincide you can talk to them then, huh?...” Hui continues to rattle off possibilities of Yuto getting into contact with you.

Meanwhile Yuto is still staring at the screen, frozen. The video continues to play, but he isn’t registering anything. Did you really just say, out loud, with a mic on, that you want to get to know him more? Like, he isn’t hallucinating that? Those words really came out of your mouth?

His chest is tight. It burns, but it’s also light. Yuto can’t put into words the feeling. Your sentiments are intangible, and there weren’t even any promises of actually going through with meeting up or exchanging numbers…

But it made him giddy. Indescribably happy.

He lets slip the tiniest of smiles as he continues watching the video and Hui mutters to himself about possible get-togethers with your groups.

Kino

It’s been a habit of Kino lately to listen to podcasts when he gets back to the dorm, as a way to unwind after a busy day. Not because he listens to them (although he does find time to listen and pay attention some other time), but the sound of amicable voices in the sometimes empty dorm is a comforting presence.

One of the podcasts he’s been listening to lately is called Ladies’ Room. His sister told him to listen to one of the episodes, and he found the discussions fun and educational, so he decided to just follow it and he’s updated with the latest one. So when a notification pops up on his phone about a new episode with a special guest, he immediately blasted it on his Bluetooth speaker.

“Hey, guys! This is Soo Ri and you’re listening to Ladies’ Room,” the host’s voice, like a droplet of water falling into a crystal clear puddle, slithers out from the speaker. “Today, we’re talking about love and relationships with a very special guest… idol-slash-actor-slash model, Y/N!”

“Hello, everybody!” you say, in a sweet cadence like a breeze rustling windchimes.

Kino almost drops the container of microwavable tteokkbokki he’s holding and looks at his phone, scandalized, as if it personally offended him. Obviously, it wouldn’t be a stretch for you to guest in podcasts, and even less of a stretch for you to guest-host this particular podcast, but Kino is still surprised. He can’t deny that it feels nice to know that he found you so unexpectedly.

Kino can’t remember when he started taking an interest on you. There was just one time when everytime he turned on the TV he would see your face—in a commercial, a variety show, a drama, that he finally decided to check you out. And from the first music video he clicked, he was hooked on you. Your way with words, your voice, your personality all just made him really want to know you more.

He doesn’t call it a crush, although to Yuto and Wooseok, the only two other people who know about his fanaticism, it comes off that way in droves. He shakes his head and finally unfreezes, putting the tteokbokki in the microwave to heat up. His ears automatically pick up the conversation.

“I know you must be really annoyed and fed up by questions like these, since I watch a lot of your interviews and the hosts ask about it a lot,” Soo Ri begins. “But what’s your stance on ideal types—like your ideal guy, or girl—and do you have one yourself?”

“Aahh, yeah, I do get questions like that sometimes, but they’re in different contexts, so I don’t really mind them.” Kino thinks that’s a polite answer and mentally claps. He hears you take a deep breath before saying, “I don’t think having an ideal type is realistic, though. I mean, that’s what ‘ideal’ means: it’s your idea of perfection, the best. I guess it could be like a blueprint for what you want in a partner, but I don’t think it’s possible for you to be able to tick off all those boxes.”

“Oh, yeah, I get what you’re saying. That’s a really good point.”

“As for my ideal type…” You hum, seeming deep in thought, but not enough to cause dead air. “It’s not really an ‘ideal’ type,” Kino can almost hear the air quotation marks when you said the word and it makes him smile, “but Kino from Pentagon has a lot of the qualities I like in someone.”

By now, Kino had taken his food from the microwave and taken a bite. He freezes with a mouth stuffed with tteokbokki. The spicy soup stinging his lips assures him that he is definitely awake and definitely not dreaming. Did she just—?

“Yeah,” he hears, desperately trying to tune back into the conversation. “He has a very bubbly and fun personality. He’s humble and loves his members and his fans. He’s also very good at what he does—I’ve listened to some of his stuff on SoundCloud, and they’re really good,” you say, and Kino thinks he should probably start chewing before he chokes on the rice cakes. “I mean, his dancing is excellent, his voice is so nice, and he’s also super cute.”

At this, you and Soo Ri both laugh conspiratorially, as if sharing a secret only between you two, as if this podcast isn’t going to be uploaded somewhere anyone who has access to the Internet can listen to, somewhere Kino can access at a moment’s notice.

Kino’s sure his face is as red as the tteokbokki soup right now. Literally no one can see because he’s the only one in the kitchen, but his face is on fire. He continues chewing and stuffing the rice cake strips into his mouth as he spirals into a crisis. His idol crush actually likes him back? He doesn’t think you actually like him, but you did say that there’s some aspects of him you like. That’s kind of similar, right? Right?

The whine comes out garbled from his full mouth. On one hand, he feels way lighter, bouncier, more energetic at knowing that the idol he likes knows about his existence and that she actually likes things about him and openly talked about it on a podcast, oh my goodness is this really real, like no one is messing with me right now?

So Kino sits there, lost in thought as he continues spearing food with his chopsticks, thinking. About how to reach you, maybe get your number, maybe propose a tiny collaboration? Maybe? About how he’s going to act in front of you in the off-chance that you do meet, as you and Soo Ri continue chatting in the background.

Wooseok

He can’t help stealing glances at you—you look really good in this comeback, and it takes everything for Wooseok to not be too conspicuous and focus on the interview that coincidentally has Pentagon and your group as guests. He’d like to think it’s a dream, but really, it feels more like a nightmare because he’s seated right next to you and his members literally won’t stop looking back and giving him mischievous smiles, or turning their chairs towards your group and making small talk, trying to drag him into the conversation and he feels like a fool because he seems incapable of replying with more than two-syllable words.

And it somehow gets worse during the segments. Not that the hosts are bad—they’re really good hosts. It’s just that there’s a segment where they read selected fan mail, so they would all have to answer it because they don’t really want to disappoint the fans by deflecting. The first few were harmless: what food they like eating during summer, if you were an animal what would you be? But then it went from zero to 100 real quick as the third question is read by your group’s leader, “Which idol is your ideal type?”

Everyone can’t help but make exclamations, oohs and ahs as they think of an appropriate answer. The hosts are gracious and give everyone ten seconds or so to come up with their answers before coaxing out some people’s. Eventually the line snaked to you and you timidly replied, “Wooseok-sunbae,” while avoiding his eyes.

If Wooseok could see himself in a mirror, he would see his eyes bug out and threatening to pop from their sockets, mouth desperately pursing to prevent the huge smile forming on his face. He doesn’t know how to react—what should he do, Cube didn’t train them for this. He needs help and Shinwon keeps slapping his thigh and arm like that isn’t the most obvious thing to do when they’re being filmed.

He can tell you’re embarrassed. You’re facing the hosts, your back to Wooseok, though he’s assuming your face is super red right now, and it’s not because of the blush. He kind of just wants this to be over so you can have a reprieve, but the hosts (being hosts), ask you to elaborate.

“Um, he’s a really great rapper, and he seems really caring,” you say softly. “I watched a program with him once taking care of his cats, and I thought it was really cute.” Wooseok recalls that show and his chest loosens slightly at the mention of it, touched that you remember that tiny segment he did. He really loves his cat, and he’s not gonna admit it, but he likes that your takeaway from the program is that he looks cute playing with tiny animals.

“Ooh, yes, we love guys who are nice to animals,” one of the hosts says, and turns directly to Wooseok. “Wooseok-sshi, since she mentioned you, we’ll leave you for last, okay? So we can properly build up the hype for the viewers back at home.” The boy nods; at least this gives him time to think of nice things to say to you amidst the flurry of thoughts running through his head at the moment.

He imagines talking to you after filming is over and exchanging numbers. He imagines hanging out with you if you have any free time. He imagines maybe doing a small collaboration with you, wishes it were possible. The images he conjures up make him smile, even if he is still kind of embarrassed—he was never one of the cucumber-cool members of the group—but he decides that since you threw yourself off the boat, he might as well throw himself off and join you.