#and my years in fandom have jaded me

[bixels]

What did/do you like about Pharah?

Uh, gameplay-wise, I really love characters in shooters who rely on three-dimensional movement techs. Chaining together hover and jump to stay in the air for as long as possible and keep momentum is so satisfying, and picking enemies off from the sky made me feel like a bird of prey. I was a good Pharah main.

Story-wise, there unfortunately isn't much to canonically go off because Pharah is so underutilized and neglected. Her personality's pretty boilerplate "heroic hero" (she's literally inspired by Captain America).

But it's the crumbs/bits and pieces that I really latched onto. Pharah's a confirmed lesbian; her short story with Baptiste implies she harbors a crush on Mercy (fucking thank you.). She's biracial Egyptian/First Nations. She has major mommy issues, having grown up both admiring and resenting Ana. She's the bridge between Old Overwatch, inspired by the idealized heroes who surrounded her childhood, and New Overwatch. She's one of the only inter-generational characters in the cast; someone whose experiences span the gap, which is why I seriously believe Pharah would make a great main character.

There isn't much to go off of, though; she's a very uncomplicated character (she's a soldier for a private military corporation, lol.). But that just means she's a blank slate character, so I've seen fanfic writers run wild and create some really interesting takes on her. My favorite interpretation of her's a dense, herbo gym-bro type (a lot of her liens are about work outs, exercising, and playing sports) who's easily excitable under her seemingly self-serious, armored visage. We see how she tends to gloat and hype herself up when she's on a streak too, so Pharah definitely has a competitive and boastful side under her more professional and militant performance.

Now Mercy? Mercy is a real complex character.

[winteriron-trash]

rdj the (whitewashed) electric boogaloo

This is a reminder to everyone who's excited about RDJ's casting as Doctor Doom that this casting is whitewashing. Victor Von Doom is a Romani character and has been a Romani character since his introduction in the 1960s. (Fantastic Four Annual #2 [1964]) Not only that, but his Roma identity and the persecution he and his family faced due to it is integral to his character, it is what forms his identity. (Books of Doom by Ed Brubaker) Even if on the off chance this casting is meant to not be Victor but instead be some variant of Tony or whomever else becoming Doctor Doom, it is damaging to the character to rob him of that important cultural background. Doctor Doom does not exist without that history. Fans have been pushing hard to cast Doom as a Romani actor for years, especially since the MCU has whitewashed other Romani characters. (Wanda, Pietro, etc) This casting is not a celebration moment, it's fucking heartbreaking that the MCU repeatedly ignores the important and nuanced cultural backstories of characters.

I know I can't change anybody's mind on whether or not you want to be excited about RDJ's return to the MCU. But I do think at the very least you should be mad that the MCU is baiting us all and destroying nuanced and interesting characters for the sake of self-referential easter eggs and nostalgia bait. Because that's what it is. Feel how you'd like to feel about RDJ's return, but personally, this is soul-sucking. I had such a deep love for the MCU as a teenager, it was obviously something incredibly formative to me, especially Tony Stark. This isn't recreating what I fell in love with the MCU for. This is turning a well-planned and artistic storyline of adaptations into cheap cash grabs and fan service. Because, I think we're past the point of being able to call the MCU an adaptation of anything. They can use existing characters' names and powers, but to say they're being properly adapted is laughable.

This is not an adaptation of Doctor Doom. This is RDJ the Electric Boogaloo because Marvel's fear of losing the interest of dedicated MCU fans overrides their willingness to tell stories that are genuine to the characters. I don't know what there is to be excited about that. The MCU has lost its authenticity and aside from a few projects, feels heartless. Every movie is a copy of a copy. This announcement isn't something celebratory, it feels like a death knell of a cinematic universe that's so desperate to cling to relevancy it's resorting to nostalgia for a character/actor who hasn't even been dead for a decade. We're not getting anything new, we're just rinsing and repeating the same song and dance.

I get it. I love Tony Stark, his death destroyed me and I to this day, rue the ending he got in Endgame. It misunderstood his arc and it robbed him of a satisfying conclusion. But the solution to that isn't dragging the corpse out of the grave five years later to whitewash an existing character with rich and interesting nuance, just to forcibly tie his existence in the MCU to Tony. Whether he is a variant or not. Why would you want someone else's fave's legacy to be destroyed simply so your fave's legacy can go on? Hell, if we were really all so hellbent on the return of RDJ and/or Tony to the MCU, we have the multiverse for a reason. There were other ways to do it that didn't whitewash and ruin someone else. This just. Isn't something to be happy about.

[krenenbaker]

ever since Jade's Platinum Jacket vignette came out, I've been thinking about how he approaches the things he likes.

because... we had no idea that mountains / mushrooms / plants were a recent interest - something that he didn't become interested in until well into his time on land. we had no idea he had another fixation before that (manhole covers), or what else he used to like before that, or before that interest, or the previous one, or—

because he becomes wholly invested in his interests, and then just... moves on. entirely.

and despite how much focus there is on his love of mushrooms, hiking, nature, etc., both in canon and in fanon, who knows how long that will last? in a few months or years, he may have become completely invested in something totally different. he'd have fond memories of enjoying those things, but would have his focus squarely on a different subject.

he wouldn't be the mountain-loving boy we know him as, because he'd have found something new. and new people who meet him may have no idea about this current obsession of his, which we know him for so well

[dove-da-birb]

*scrolling through tumblr* [I'm not drawing the zebra print that's on my shirt each time]

.

*sees halloween rook*

*simp/crisis mode engaged*

Bonus internal reaction;

I have no fucking gems *internal québécois français screaming*

[ialwaysknewyouwerepunk]

.

[shararan]

I miss being an 11 year old fandom nerd in terms of energy levels cause I'd write wholeass longfics (OC/Sasuke and OC/Bill Kaulitz were my go to ships) by hand and filling out entire notebooks in less than a couple hours, make small zines of folder paper with handdrawn comics with plots to give my classmates.

And I'm not saying that the quality was good per se, but like, does that matter when the energy and enthusiasm was just that powerful??? Mesnwhile now I'll draw like one sketch and immediately have to lie down and recuperate from the strain—

[nanzyn]

man I love small fandoms so much more than big ones

like 12 people might read the little 800 word one shot that I post in the small fandom but ⅓ of them will comment the most lovingly handcrafted words that will make my whole week

while 300 people will read a 20k one shot I post in a bigger fandom and 5 of them will leave a comment and only some of those mention anything to do with the fandom let alone the work itself. They're barely anything more than an "I love this" and it leaves me feeling like I'm getting scraped by bots low-key.

like I love getting comments don't get me wrong, and I know not everyone can be or wants to write a whole dissertation in the comments but this era has left me so jaded and with it being such an active and big fandom I just know that there's at least one person out there putting that shit into a chatbot machine learning bullshit thing

I don't make my works accessable to only logged in users just so people who can't for whatever reason still have access to my works. and bot scraping is a risk I'm willing to take for them but like it still doesn't mean I like it

im going back to my small fandom

[weirdmageddon]

the shift in lore literacy in homestuck’s fandom

i was thinking about how the people who got into homestuck after it ended—whose interactions with the comic are in a static, archived state, not an ongoing thing—missed out on information that was more common knowledge in the fandom at that time. i don’t know if this is true since i’m not on tiktok, but i wouldn’t be surprised if it was. the fandom certainly isn’t the same as it was before.

ive found that many people reading homestuck now simply do not understand things in homestuck that were common knowledge back in the day, with calls for “homestuck literacy classes to become mandatory” in response to baffling takes because so many people just now seem to have glazed over the comic without absorbing important plot points, and i think i know why this may be. i ended up writing a post reflecting on my time with the comic, my perspective and how ive seen this change. i still think and write about homestuck because it still fascinates me. earlier i quote retweeted that call in my thread talking about the temporal relativity of dave and rose’s god tier ascension in the green sun, saying “my homestuck literacy is 100% so guess im doing my part as a teacher by pointing out whatever i think is really cool about it”. this post im writing now started out as a reply to this tweet i got in response.

i joined the fandom in 2013. i was 11. i had been aware of it since at least late 2011, early 2012 when my friend ryan in fifth grade told me to read it but i couldn’t get past the first few pages. i remember writing a journal on deviantart around this time (late 2011-early 2012) that was mocking people who typed like gamzee, which ironically was very karkat of me. and i remember someone on flipnote hatena i was following was making flipnotes with the alpha kids.

i dont know what caused me to flip the switch into reading it but 2013. i got into it somewhere between april (i think closer to april—i remember it being quite a span of time between the last update before HOMOSUCK dropped.) this was the most recent page the comic, meaning there was no > [S] ACT 6 ACT 6 at the bottom.

i got into it during a pause in updates, which looking into it, was the year 4 megapause. i wasn’t sure of the month until seeing the news post detailing the reason for the hiatus and the status report of the comic’s development at that time. pretty cool i could narrow it down by referencing the dates of those updates and the news post to correspond with the pause!

according to readmspa, the year 4 megapause was a 59 day hiatus from Apr 14, 2013 ==> (EOA6A5) running to 12 Jun 2013, [S] ACT 6 ACT 6. then for a few months there were the first updates that i was apart of the fandom for.

and what an exciting time during the story get into the webcomic! when the updates resumed in june, part 4 of homestuck had begun. here was a glimpse of the updates in that span of time before the next hiatus began in october.

that hiatus was none other than the gigapause, the longest hiatus in the comic, which started october 2013 and lasted for a YEAR, and i already posted about what happened on the date of return.

but here were the main events happening in the story at the time i first actually got interested in it. i wasn’t aware of the full context of them then like i am now, but i was looking at the most recent updates anyway with interest:

the alpha kids just emerged as god tiers from their slabs in derse and prospit, blown up by the condesce and caliborn / lil cal-possessed b2 jack noir.

the journey to the new session started 24 hours after jack called an early reckoning in descend—for context that was about when dave entered around midnight central time and before jade even entered. it’s pretty easy to forget that side 1 of homestuck basically happens within the span of a single day—and at this point in the story, the 3 year journey (which was also 3 real life years) had just ended. john and jade emerged from the other side of the yellow yard through the fenestrated plane on LOMAX. john’s real body was asleep upon arrival in the new session, while his dreaming projection out in the dream bubbles came across vriska’s ghost ship to learn lord english lore with vriska and aranea, and go on the treasure hunt where they found the ultimate weapon at the X mark out in in the furthest ring. in the dream john stuck his hand in the juju, started warping all over canon which removed his real body from the ship on LOMAX. he zapped around for a while but eventually zapped back to LOMAX, now awake, completely out of the loop of what everyone else is up to, and bored as fuck. what was everyone else getting up to while john was asleep?

jade was now once again within the domain of the green sun. im pretty sure her space god doggy essence comes with the power to sense what was anywhere within the domain of the session since her face looks like she arrived at that spot with intent (and she literally has jack noir’s exact powers from bec’s prototyping. also this panel). she immediately dispatched b2 jack to the edge of the incinisphere, defending the newly god-tiered jane and jake. i think even if they weren’t in any danger, she would have warped to them instantly anyway because she COULD now, and i can imagine she wouldve been sooooo eager to meet everyone. even davesprite comments about her rapid departure.

the pre-scratch refugees arrived during the only time serious shit ever went down in the nobles’ months-long inert void session. the condesce used her freak psychic bronze-cerulean powers to commune with jade’s bestial side and mind controlled her, which is super dangerous as someone with the powers of a first guardian. she then used jade’s powers to corrupt jane with the tiaratop. no funtime meetup allowed!

the trolls’ meteor with rose, dave, and the remaining trolls was pulling up into the new session with no way to slow it down. grimbark jade warped there once it was in the incinisphere and took active control. she warped everyone off the trolls’ meteor and sent them to LOMAX.

as john was losing his mind on LOMAX waiting for everyone, the meteor crew warped in. after 3 years he finally reunited with rose and dave, and at least saw the trolls in person. close curtains, end of A6A5. this was the newest [S] flash page at the time, one of my first impressions of this comic, and still one of my favorite flashes. knowing the context of the flash in the story only enhances the retrospective joy i have at getting into the comic at the time i did because it’s such an anticipated moment in the story for everyone, while for someone with no context of the story it was still enjoyable.

so that’s what was going on plotwise when i joined the fandom.

from this time, through those few months of updates and through the gigapause, i was familarizing myself with the characters in the story and overseeing the state of fanbase, getting myself acquainted with the story and wrapping my head around everything.

at that time i found that a new-ish group called colab HQ who were producing a let’s read homestuck series on youtube. hearing the voices and the pacing of it like that really, really eased me into it (maybe it was my adhd that gave me trouble actually starting it?). i caught up to a certain point using lets read homestuck and from that point was able to continue with the comic on my own, and by the time the gigapause came to a close i was fully caught up. i remember the rebranding of colab hq into voxus about a year and a half after i discovered them.

but.. back to the main point of my post. even these posts from hussie’s tumblr exist in archived states. how many new fans know about hussie’s old tumblr? i don’t know, unless theyre a new fan that must scour the internet for more deep more dives on homestuck and its fandom as a whole. but since hussie deleted his tumblr (it exists archived now on homestuck.net which, alongside from the unofficial homestuck collection, has nearly singlehandedly kept the most important relics of the fandom and lore archived), that page is not an active part of the fandom now, because it’s gone. it’s a pile of bones. it’s not living and breathing. it’s in an archived state. the whole thing is already there. homestuck and its fandom history is something you now binge instead of slowly consume and meld with as it comes out. it’s now this rapid information intake that you might forget about if you read it now instead of engaged alongside it. you’re not surrounded by people actively talking and theorizing about developments anymore. the ability to have those sorts of conversations during the ongoing development of the story reinforced concepts, ideas, and lore over and over as we tried to make sense of it.

being in a fandom when the author is still delivering the story is like nothing else. it allows you grow alongside the characters and engage meaningfully with the media and people in the fandom space around you. it feels like you’re participating IN the media itself, especially if you’re interfacing with the creator. it’s in always having something to theorize or talk about and speculate. and people become very aware of these sorts of forgotten story facts because they were applying the logic of the newest official post from hussie into making their sburb ocs or something and share resources and discussion posts about “what just happened in this update?? recap????” it was this cultural osmosis thing. i think this is why homestuck literacy is now at an all time low, at least from what i can see on twitter.

reading homestuck then vs now is like the difference between serialized shows with spaces between episodes to discuss stuff and time to reflect and learn and become attached to the story, narrative, worldbuilding and its characters, vs the netflix model where it’s all dropped all at once and people forget about it after binging.

at this point in time im getting the sense that “homestuck elders” now are no longer just people who were there since 2009-2010, but now also people who were there while it was still updating, probably stretching into 2014-2015. there are many sources of lore that were common knowledge in the fandom at the time that, since becoming susceptible to the deletion of content and link rot, and with the thanosing of mspaforums, are no longer accessible at the source. and a lot of people moved on after it ended, especially following the epilogues, the kate drama, and the whatpumpkin-sarah z drama, leaving a void of information behind if not for archivists and people such as me who continue to keep old facts relevant in discussions. my friend has called me a fandom scholar before and seeing this post i think i get what they mean.

EDIT: there is a series of video essays ive watched multiple times (because theyre that good) and they are exactly what modern fans need to see more of. they really help contextualize the comic and the themes present in it help you appreciate the basic fabric of homestuck a hell of a lot more. i highly recommend them and encourage any fan of homestuck to watch them, or someone considering getting into homestuck to watch the first one.

i think this is arguably as close to the “mandatory literacy class for homestuck” that person was talking about as you can get, especially the first video.

additionally, there is also the website https://rafe.name/homestuck which is essentially a sparknotes for homestuck and can help you follow developments in the comic itself.

[momochanners]

After a good night's sleep, I think I can better solidify my thoughts in regards to the Dragon Age trailer.

First, let's start with the positives:

- Companion diversity: This has always been part of the series' DNA that has been clearly depicted with every iteration, so those who cry foul over "Asian & Black elves", prosthethics, etc etc...I really don't get that, because values and sensibilities evolve over time. Even the series itself has course corrected when needed, eg. Player character creation influencing the family ethnicity of the Couslands in DA:O vs the Hawkes in DA2.

- Unlocked romances: Letting players choose whoever they want to romance regardless of their sexuality and race has always been a positive for me. Allowing everyone to enjoy the experience equally is great (and I'm sure the nuances of player race & gender will be addressed through dialogue and banter). Moreover, CRPGs are long and time-consuming, so to be locked out of character romances mid-way through is never going to be a good time (from personal experience and observing fandom in the past).

Now the negatives:

- Maybe it's me being on the older side of the Bioware fandom (15 years in Dragon Age, 20 years if you count older games like KotOR and Jade Empire), but I cringed very hard watching the trailer. If you followed the development of this game in the past decade, the cancelled live service element that was to be DA4 in one of its iterations was so all over the way the companions were introduced that it brought out a visceral reaction in me. The tonal whiplash from how foreboding Dreadwolf was presented in the past to the patronising happy quippy MEET OUR LITTLE GUYS YOU'RE SURE TO LOVE also did not help as a first concrete look of what to expect after all this time (also poor anachronistic choice of soundtrack when you already have Trevor Morris' compositions right there). I was so dismayed when they went with a looter-shooter-esque lighthearted vibe when they could've leaned hard on the foreboding established mood and momentum they've already got going with Dreadwolf. 

- The branding switch this late in the game that comes with it, especially one as drastic as this will always come with questions and ambivalence. I feel that mitigating uncertainty from announced changes (party number, combat mechanics, setting and environment, etc) should've have been prioritised to reassure existing and lapsed fans before appealing to new ones in such a jarring way.

-  I'm simply baffled at the marketing suit who signed off on whatever this is to be their "best foot forward" at reintroducing the final form of this game? If only there were confident with the world they've already built instead of relying on trendy gimmicks, the amount of damage control I'm seeing prior to the gameplay reveal tonight was so avoidable. Controlling the narrative from the get go is so very important especially now as opinions can easily snowball overnight into behemoth-like proportions especially from bad faith actors. You would think that lessons were learned from DA:O's "THIS IS THE NEW SHIT" and DA2's "Press a button, something AWESOME happens" debacles.

(The thing is, despite it being my least favourite DA out of the three, imho Inquisition has the best marketing campaign in the franchise despite the developmental troubles going on in the background. So it has been pulled off successfully before!)

- I think the Bioware layoffs, especially the recent extensive gutting of senior staff in September 2023, significantly depleted my goodwill as a fan. To see Varric being paraded as a mascot in the trailer, game promotion and supplementary media while having his creator unceremoniously let go after years of building the franchise we love left me so very cold. And it's a me problem, but seeing many other fans barely acknowledging that save for few hollow words before getting back into the fun frustrated me so much. I get being excited to finally get something solid after years of false starts, but with what was lost along the way...I personally don't feel right to approach this installment without cynicism.

Idk, I'm just a bundle of conflicted feelings over this series I guess? When it's so good, it's really good and stays with you as memorable gaming experiences that stays with you for life, but when it stumbles and fumbles the bag...it hurts to see.

[netherfeildren]

Honey, Stomach, Mine ; 1. Genus: Tragedy

Series Masterlist ; Part 2.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Existence is a needful thing. Choice is fickle, nature inescapable. Run to the end of the world, Joel, all those things will still find you. 

She'll still come for you. 

-OR-

the A/B/O outbreak AU 

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics; Dystopian Society; Outbreak not Cordyceps AU; Light Angst; Slow Burn; Shocking Considering the Implications of Me and This Trope but Alas; Biologically Assigned Soulmates; Power Dynamics; Topping From the Bottom; Government Controlled Reproduction; Segregation of the Designations; Institutionalized Sexism; Vaguely Handmaidien Undertones; Incredibly Soft Despite the Tags; Be Not Afraid, Dear Reader!; Yearning; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Competence Kink; Alpha Joel; Omega MC; Very Soft Joel; Older and Jaded Alpha; Young and Needy Omega; Age Gap; Size Difference; Size Kink

A/N: I've found there is an absolutely shocking lack of A/B/O in this fandom, and this is my contribution to begin rectifying that. I swear that despite the way the tags read, this is entirely and sickeningly sweet soft, comfort, caretaking fic.

Share thoughts, please. It's sort of a different one.

Word Count: 6.3K

Read on AO3

Tip Jar

Genus : Tragedy

To a one Mr. Joel Miller,

500 Sheahan Road

Clallam Bay, WA 98326

United States 

We are writing to inform you that as of January 8th, 2015 there remain two weeks until your designated omega’s twenty second birthday, and a year since she has come of age. We have made several attempts to contact you with no response. As mandated by the federal government, you must collect her by January 22nd, 2015 or she will be distributed to another individual of the designation alpha who would be willing to accommodate her. 

The omega’s evaluations are all up to date, and she has displayed pristine results in both health and behavioral tests. It is estimated that her first heat will occur soon, and we strongly encourage you to collect before the fever starts and our facility is forced to place her with another willing alpha that may see the process through. As she is part of the Federal Alpha/Omega Pairing Program, and is biologically paired to an alpha already, that being you, if not collected she would be placed in the bidding pool and distributed to the highest offer. 

Again, we strongly encourage you to contact our facility with a response on your decision as soon as possible so that we may prepare the omega. We would like to remind you that these creatures are delicate, and unexpected changes to their habitats and surroundings cause high levels of distress. It is of the utmost importance that we proceed in accordance with the omega’s nature. 

Enclosed is a brief note from your omega that she has requested to attach:

Dear sir,

I hope that you are well. I have been told that you have not decided if you will come for me, but I ask that you please do. I have been waiting, but they have told me I cannot wait anymore, and I do not know what will happen to me if you don’t come. I promise that I’ll be good if you do. 

And at the bottom, in a pristine and swirly pen, and kindly, her signature, there for him to see. The name of the woman, or girl, who seems to have taken all of Joel’s choices from him. He follows the letters with the nail of his thumb, scratching at the ink as if he could make it disappear, make the reality of this poor thing out there in the world waiting for him, disappear. 

At the outbreak of the designations, twelve years ago, there had been mass hysteria, mass chaos, a terrible uncertainty of how the world could continue on, segregated into biological designations as it had suddenly become. Thought to be a product of the dwindling population rates, some whispered a government experiment gone awry, a freak genetic mutation had begun to appear within the biological markers of certain people. 

Designations: Alpha, Beta, Omega. 

It was not that society had unfolded, lost sight of itself, it was more so that from one day to the next, a new and unknown sort of hierarchy had been established, those that were, those that were not. Those that could live their lives as they’d always done, unruled by their biological urges, and those now marked as something new and different and set by a different sort of mandates. 

Joel had been one of these people. 

The designations had become controlled, weaponized, systemized, almost immediately. Almost. Before the government had mobilized and taken stock and hold of the situation, there had been a momentary lapse of order. Chaos wearing the names and faces of the people he’d once known, people that should have been safe or protected, protective. The true nature of the dynamics were quickly revealed. Obvious: an unmated alpha in need of an omega was a volatile thing, quick to aggression, hungry for violence. Less so: an omega, once thought self sufficient, independent, autonomous, was found to be at times fragile, vulnerable, full of necessity. Both connected by that string of desperation that could only be soothed in a pairing of the two. The desperate drama of being no longer only yourself.

It should have been an obvious thing, the mutation, a byproduct of the dwindling population levels, reproduction rates, was in service of something that would correct this misdirection of nature. Alphas and omegas were, are, idealized pairings for one another in terms of reproduction, in terms of biological pairings. It should have been obvious that this would be wielded as a means of control. It should have been obvious that this was an untenable situation that would cast people into roles that left no choice for autonomy, for freedom. 

It should have been obvious to Joel, who almost immediately, and even though he had been well into adulthood, a father to a young daughter, presented as an alpha, growing pains once again this late into his life. It should have been obvious that this was a situation that should have necessitated greater care, vigilance, protection. After all, this was the role of an alpha. He should have listened to this new nature of his that was suddenly, demandingly, presenting itself, acted quicker, stronger, with more wisdom. But he’d failed, he’d continued to fail for years to come after that terrible night when the world had turned back to its base nature in a hedonistic attempt for the preservation of humanity. 

Alphas were immediately feared, ostracized, and above all else, obvious. A designation was not a thing a person could hide, especially not an alpha, the truth of their nature. Many were gunned down in the streets at the start, imprisoned, experimented on and sold, debased and tortured. They’d been caught, him and Sarah, separated from Tommy trying to escape the madness. She had, in her innocence and without designation, still only herself, still only his little girl, been caught in the crossfire of a world's desire to tame or trap something it could not understand. 

Joel had, in many and the worst of ways, been caught in the crossfire too. 

With time, years and the sort of suffering that can only be forced upon anything that is different or out of the norm, a system had been created. Government mandated programs, laws, registries that kept track of the designations. A hierarchy in which those that were essentially and biologically considered stronger than what a normal human should be, were ostracized, exiled, denigrated, muzzled, and those that would be considered weakest, left without any voice at all, without freedom either. 

The Federal Alpha/Omega Pairing Program had been established for the continued preservation and furthering of reproductive rates. A registry was created in which all those with the designation either alpha or omega had to present themselves on, biological markers determined, all choices stripped. The program served as a match making machine, when two biological markers presented themselves as compatible, as mates of one another, an omega was assigned to an alpha for keeping. To do with as they’d see fit. 

He had gotten word of her only last year. Twelve years of solitude, of nothing, of running from a girl with green eyes he’d not been able to protect and the reality of himself he detested, the what and why of who he was. He’d left Austin, wandered and hidden and groveled in the dirt like a worm until he’d finally found a quiet place to settle. A place alone, undisturbed. And for so long, he’d not been happy, surely, but he had been. Joel had been.

He looks down at the letter in his hand, dragging his thumbnail over the swoop and slope of her signature once again. This was a person who, as mandated by law or biology or fucking whatever, had been deemed as his. His other half, mate, ball and chain. The terrible reminder of what he really was and could not escape, in the form and shape of his perfect opposite. 

Last year, when he’d gotten word of her existence, that she’d reached the age of twenty one and was now ready and available for his retrieving, he’d balled up the letter and thrown it with such weightless force into the fireplace in his living room that the air filled wad of paper had fallen limp and nothingful just shy of the flames, rolling in the ashes and dust, coating the reality of this imposed, undesired fate in dark soot. He’d been so angry he’d gone out and howled at the moon like the beast the world would have themselves believe he truly was. 

He did not want to be an alpha. He did not want an omega. He did not want to live off the coast of Clallam Bay alone in this house he’d built with his bare hands because he had no other use of them now, no other function or purpose or meaning. He did not want it to be now, he wanted it to be twelve years ago. He wanted to still be a father. 

He did not want to be an alpha. 

He did not want an omega.

He crumples the letter in his fist, looking out at the bay over the edge of the cliffs from where the cabin is perched. From his spot on the deck he can see as far out as the sea allows, sight stopping suddenly as if the edge of the world had dropped off a ledge. Sometimes he longed, so, so badly, to go find that edge, to drop off it as well. He had only tried once. Never again. The grizzle of scar tissue at his temple, a testament to yet another one of his failures. 

The first summons had come two weeks before her twenty-first birthday, and he’d laughed, after the anger, he’d laughed. A girl-woman of only twenty one years, deemed of age, for the role the government or God had deemed her ready for, served up on a platter to him for his own ravaging. For the correction of what nature told was an anomaly that only their coming together could solve. It was sick, disgusting. He wanted no part of it. And so, despite the knowledge that this poor thing was out there, in some government facility, places they took omegas, many orphans, but also, oftentimes separating them from their families for so called safe keeping, just another word for kidnapping. Rearing and breeding and no choices, no choices for any of them ever. 

He’d ignored it, turned a blind eye and a revolted heart away from it all, and shirked the supposed responsibilities he owed this omega who he knew nothing about, who knew nothing about him. But nature is, after all, a terrible and inescapable thing. And not even so much the nature of his designation, although that did, unfailingly, play a part in his demise, surely, but the nature of his character, of Joel’s heart, that was the true heavy player. He was not the sort of man who could turn away from someone who’d rely on him, who’d need him. A responsibility. That was, he convinced himself, all he should or could see her as. And for a year there’d been a sort of tugging of a string from behind his navel, an umbilical cord connecting him to his ignored fate. He hated it all. He wanted nothing to do with any of it. He wanted to rot in his aloneness and misery and bitterness, fester in the fear that lived around him from the world. It’s why he’d come here, it’s why he’d exiled himself. Balanced on the tightrope border between the Salish Sea and the Makah Reservation on this high and pristine cliffside cut from the crust of the earth; he was left entirely alone, at peace with only his own chaotic demons to torment him. He wanted it this way, he wanted this; please, please, he’d already given away so much, lost so much of himself. Should he also be forced into this too? To sacrifice the terrible peace of his solitude to save this poor creature that was being forced on him. He wanted to say no, that he didn’t give a fuck, that what would happen to her could, it was no business of his. But those words… another willing alpha, bidding pool, highest offer… they made him see, not even red, black, black and devastating anger or rage or something horrible and base, and what could only be a product of mother nature railing against him for ignoring what he truly was. Something that whispered terrible words of mine, mine, fucking mine. A hiss he did not recognize, did not want to admit he recognized. 

He was old, weathered and beaten and past his prime. Unmated. At the end of his line and unmated and purposeless, and his bones were tired, but itching and clamoring within the confines of his skin that this was wrong, that he was wrong, and that he needed to right this immediately. 

That she’s waiting, and dear sir, I do not know what will become of me if you do not come. I promise that I’ll be good if you do. 

And so Joel goes to her because he knows she is waiting, because fate or purpose or nature is not a thing to be ignored forever. 

-

“It’s her birthday today,” the caretaker says, voice ascetic and cold and direct. Not a voice, Joel thinks, for soft things; cadence that has his teeth on edge, hackles raised. “You’ve arrived just in time. She’s been asking for you, and we’d just set her name in the pool, ready to release for auction tomorrow.” That black rage muddies the corners of his vision, and he focuses on the cold shock of the blank white hallway they’re making their way down. Hospital-like, barren and hard, this place, facility, prison, they keep them in, the omegas in the program. He feels slightly sick, uninhibitedly angry as if his teeth would fall out of his skull, as if he could throw himself to the ground as a child throws a fit, spew his anger for the world to see how much he does not want this, how vehemently he’s opposed to it all. 

“She may seem young and small, but she’s twenty two now. She’s ready, and she’ll take it as you wish. It’s what she was made for.” 

Joel seriously considers, just for a moment, killing the cretinous little man beside him. Take it, he says as if he has any right to speak of you taking anything that Joel would give you, as if it’s any of his business, anything he could ever understand if the beta stench oozing off of him is any indication. He hums nothing more than a grunt of acknowledgement. If he parts his teeth he’ll take out a chunk of flesh. He should behave, there are easily frightened things nearby. 

White doors with a small circular window at the center line the hall on either side, endlessly down the length of the seemingly endless corridor. The caretaker, white scrubs, pristine like the rest of everything here, and Joel feels suddenly huge and bestial and brutish, marring and dirtying this place that is supposed to be of peace and quiet for the fragile things locked inside. 

A terrible place that makes him desolately depressed. You’ve been here so long, and he had not come, and it’s all just one more tally of failure on his rap sheet. 

When they finally stop before a singular door, the number fourteen emblazoned in large black, bold print just beneath the small viewing window, Joel suddenly feels– he can’t say for certain, he doesn’t know, or doesn't want to acknowledge the truth of the voices and sounds ringing in his ears, but he knows, recognizes it for the sound of the moment Sarah died all those years ago. His past and present suddenly clashing to meet here in this antiseptic white void, before the door to this fate that’s clamored in quiet waiting for exactly a year today. The sound of her voice, calling his name, saying it hurts, Tommy, his shouts ringing loud and then ebbing soft and as lifeless as she was while the reality of what they were living came to pass before Joel too, could realize. He’d left too, his brother, ran from the truth of Joel at the first easy opportunity. And she’s just there, her voice and her eyes and the feel of her is just there in his mind, on the tip of the tongue of his memory, and then the man opens the door and then there you are. 

He feels worse now, hulking, deformed, malformed like he was born wrong. “I’ll give you a moment,” the man says low, that cold voice monotone and almost too quiet to bear now. Joel feels he needs something loud and shocking. He fears he won’t fit through the door. “It’s better if you meet for the first time without distractions. She knows you’re coming.”

He thinks he asks if you’re sleeping, he can’t be sure, but he feels the vibrations of his throat work, his jaw move as if it’d come unhinged, his tongue swollen in his mouth, gums fat and painful, full of bile and terrible memories, and he is a badly made thing in need of some goodness in this moment. And then a shift of the small lump beneath the blankets, the reality of the moment snaps into focus, he steps inside the white box cage you’re kept in. The door shuts behind him, and then it is only him, the thing he would not be, and you, the thing he would not want. 

He doesn’t decide it until he finally peers into your eyes, that he can’t, will not, keep you. 

Wide, luminous and wet, but not afraid, wholly curious, peering up at him from above the edge of a thick wool blanket. Something drab and gray and stiff looking that immediately sets him on edge, brings that anger back, just the simple sight of the blanket. The two of you stare at each other in silence, the weight of that thing that tells of what you are, sitting heavy between the two of you as he looks down at you from his great height, presence that should be intimidating and cowing, looming over your prone and small form on the bed. But despite his stance, something swelling within him causing him to puff up like an angry dog and want to bear his teeth at you, despite the curtain of tears in your eyes, there’s nothing of the stench of fear. 

He shuts his eyes to the sight of you, huffing long and bullish through his nose, mistake, the scent of you, God, help me, and he listens to the rustle and shift of the blankets, opens his eyes to see a little nose peeking out from beneath the gray, drab thing to sniff primly at the air he’s now filling with his presence. 

Soft and warm and woman, the smell of a cunt that belongs to him. That’s what it is at its basest. More complexly: vanilla, bergamot, juniper berries, sweat and fever and salt. Taking a plunge off the cliffside, bypassing the sharp teeth of rocks that would kill you, waiting for the dark ice shock of sea and finding nothing but molten life. This is what you smell like. 

Worst of all, there is something in you that smells of him. His, yes, but not what he means, not his, him. Something that smells of recognition, like the two of you are the same. 

Something chained inside of him rattles at the bars of its cage, desperate to be let out and quenched. 

He steps back, frightened at your movement, at the reality of what the two of you are, so obvious here in this cage, at your perking up, your recognition of who and what he is, what he’s come for. You don’t speak, but you tell him. You wriggle beneath the covers, shimmying to turn and face him more fully, still clutching the blanket up high over your mouth, still covering half of your face, and he wants to bark at you to let him see, that he needs to see, but he grinds his teeth together. Molars going to dust down his throat, muscle wrapped around his mandible strung so tight he fears the fibers of it might burst and pop. 

You settle on your side facing him now, and then something to beguile him, to bring him to his knees muzzled and obedient and calm, the sweetest, sultry little crooning cry. Something provoking, alluring, something to beckon him to you in surrender and acceptance and welcome, come from your chest up your throat to his ears. He jerks back at the sound, your big eyes still expectant and wet but demanding now. I am here waiting for you. I have been here waiting for you. Come now. He steps back to your bedside, a too small, too stiff metal railed cot he’s going to wrap around that fucking guard, caretaker, idiot, whatever he is when he comes back, falls to his knees, and your little fingers peek out and up and over the edge of the blanket now. And you surprise him doubly, tenfold, more than he can comprehend – but he already decided he will not keep you, he already made up his mind – when you say: “You came. You remembered me.”

He could never have forgotten.

A low hum, a sound to make your eyelids flutter and your legs shift beneath the heavily draped blankets. “Today’s your birthday, sweetheart, is it? Would you like to come home with me as your gift?” 

He could never have forgotten.

-

The house that the large man who you’d waited your whole life and then a year for, brings you to – and you can’t be entirely sure, for you’ve so little experience or knowledge – but from what you can think you’re feeling now, from what you can decide, is lovely. 

He had taken you in a car, a truck, you like the sound of the word, —ck, —ck, —ck, and driven a long while, through the big city which you’d seen little of, between forest and beside sea, and then finally up a long and winding road and more forest, more trees and green than you’d ever seen in your entire life, until you’d come to a cliffside, the backyard a drop off of air and rock and endless dark water, and a small house perched just there at the edge. Wooden slats, weather beaten and salt lashed, a copper sloped roof, and two pert chimneys, despite the not large area of the house, cabin. It looks, very much, as if it had grown straight from the cliff rock, sprouted by the forest, strong bones that spoke resolutely of remaining where they were no matter how hard the wind howled. 

“How did it get here?” You ask the man, alpha, who’s name is Joel who has finally come for you after a life and a year of waiting. 

“I made it,” and his voice is rough and demanding of attention, demanding of you, even if you don’t know, although, you do understand, what it is he’s demanding. 

And you think, yes, of course. It looks a little, a lot, like him. Obvious, that it came from him. 

It would be easy to think that you’re nothing but young and stupid and untried. Just a little omega kept in a cage. But you feel, after this life, not life, of being you and the thing you are, that you’re none of those things despite it all. You had lived, you had been out in the world at one time, even if briefly, even if only as a child, green and inexperienced and innocent, and although you still remain all those things, you had been out there at one point. You had never had a mother or a father, dead when you were an infant, killed in the outbreak, but you had lived with your aunt, your mother’s, many years older,  sister, until you’d been ten years old. So you see, and he should see too, this man now before you, this alpha, that you were untried and inexperienced and young compared to him, but you’d had a decade of real life, even if it was the life of a child, even if afterwards it was a not life, but the before, that counted very, very much to you and so deserved respect and acknowledgement. And he should see that, although you do not know, you do understand.

After your aunt had died, and they’d taken you, first to the orphanage, and then to the place for omegas, after you’d started to mature and develop, perhaps that real life had ended. Or been put on hold, waiting for him, this alpha who seems, for all intents and purposes and from what you can gather from his sullen silence and dark looks, nothing like pleased at your presence here now. But then there was the: today’s your birthday, sweetheart, is it? And yes, yes it is your birthday. 

It’s your birthday, and you’re free. And yes, you’d lived the not life in the white box for so long, and yes, you are, in fractions, so afraid and knowing so little of the world, but you do know that you want to live and to see the sky. 

You want to see the sky every single day. 

His big clunking truck rolls to a slow stop before the house, a wide deck wrapping around the entire boxed thing of it, and he starts to move, unclipping his belt, grabbing the bag he’d brought with him stuffed with his clothes he’d promptly tucked and folded you into when he’d shuffled you into the cabin of his truck, and you’d been all thank you, sir, to which he’d given a shake of his head, only Joel. Only Joel. No other words, no other directions, only his hands pulling your strings like a puppet. You had accepted it for the chance to feel his touch, to familiarize yourself with the closeness of him. 

You want to know things. You want to know him. 

He’d barely said a word the entire drive here, but you could be patient, and they’d prepared you for this, after all. They’d prepared you long and well and told you all they thought you’d need to know. So you find yourself, and not at all shockingly, as you’d waited so long for this, for him, for freedom and the sky, and look, now there’s even sea too, not even a little bit afraid, only anticipatory in bated breath, stuttering heart, excitement. 

You had never seen the sea before, and you want to know things. You want to know him. 

He jumps heavy and thudding form the truck, and you start to shift, something suddenly frantic and clawing rolling in your chest when you realize he’s leaving the confines of the small space the two of you had found yourselves encased in together, the warm heat from the vents blowing his smell, his smell, all around you. You’d never encountered anything like it before. Salted vetiver and warm cardamom, something sweet and musked and heavy like what your fingers taste like after you’ve pet long and needy at that soft wet place between your legs when the hurt was so tight you felt nothing would sate it. It’s a scent that you think would devastate to have taken away now that you’ve tasted it. And it’s everywhere as the two of you’d sat in his staunchly imposed silence on the truck ride to this place he was bringing you to, his home at what seems like the end of the world. It’s in your nose and down your throat, heavy and cloying and sweet on your tongue, wrapping around your waist and covering your skin and your hands so that you’d even pressed your palms entirely over your face and rubbed yourself like a cat, coating yourself in him. 

The door slams, bringing you out of his scent induced reverie and back to the present, and you scramble to undo your buckle too, even though when he’d clipped it for you he’d very sternly said to not take it off, desperate to follow him wherever he’d go. But you realize quickly he’s coming around the front of the truck to your door, and then he’s there pulling it open and letting in a biting gust of wind come off the sea and up the cliffside to slash you across the face with its icy rancor. You shiver, teeth clattering and chattering in your mouth, trying to gather the blankets he’d cocooned you in, his too big, so soft clothes, more tightly around yourself, and find your feet. 

He gives a rough but soothing noise, and easy as anything, plucks you up and out of the seat and into his arms, kicking the door closed behind him as he goes. Into his arms. You hold yourself stiff and wide eyed, chewing on the tips of your frozen cold fingers, and staring at him this closely, it’s shocking. Large, had been the first thing. Tall and broad and thick the way they’d said alphas are. This you had expected. The rest, you had not. The eyes, you think, more than anything. His eyes, a strange mix of hazel and brown, but dark. Eyes, that even in your greenness, you can recognize as sad and angry. And the creases at the corners, between his brows, the gray threaded through the lush, dark curls and at the corners of the hair along his jaw. He looks like he would be someone’s father. The patch of bare skin, heart shaped, amongst the whiskers. He’s beautiful, and unthinkingly, or perhaps entirely intentional, you stick out one of your saliva soaked fingers and poke him gently there, only a small prod, to feel what the heart feels like. His gait stops instantly, that permanent frown he’d worn since you’d first laid eyes on him, deepening. “Don’t do that,” he gruffs, continuing his steps up the porch now, the dark, heavy boots you’d noted as he’d taken you from the facility falling thunk, thunk on the wooden boards beneath. He’d not given you shoes of your own. And at his tone, the grumpy look, you have the inexplicable urge to laugh. To laugh at him. Surly, you want to tease, but swallow it, itchy fingertips back into the warmth of your mouth to stop yourself from touching again.

Another gust blows against the two of you as he somehow transfers you, cradled into only one arm, to pull the jingle of keys from his pocket, and you’re jarred with painful shivers, huddling closer into the unbelievably broad expanse of his chest, the unbelievably steaming warm slab. At the touch of your cheek against his collarbone you realize all he’s wearing is a simple, green flannel, no coat, nothing warm. “Aren’t you cold?” It seems suddenly, supremely important you ask, head shooting back up. He peers down his nose at you, finally getting the door open, and his eyes are a very peculiar sort of dark, you cock your head at him, a very strange sort of creature this man is, who’s come to collect you, who you’d waited all your life and a year for. 

“I’m fine,” he says. 

You don’t believe him.

He sets you down on a large, dark leather sofa, chocolate, the hide smooth and worn and lived in. The rest of the house, not only a house, also a home, for it’s obvious in the way of his things, the way they’re arranged and fixed and the way they too live here, not only exist here. I’ll be like that too, you think. It’s all comfortable, it’s all warm, like a den and a place to relax and be protected, juxtaposed by the sight beyond the large windows, nothing but dark, violent sea as you’ve never before seen. 

He really had found a perch at the edge of the world, brought you here to perch as well. 

There’s a large fireplace, inlaid with large slabs of dark stone and thick beams of wood, and yes, this too is also obvious in a peculiar and particular way. The house very much looks like it was made by the hands of a single man in some way that you cannot specifically say, but can obviously see the truth of. He made this house, and then he came for you and now he’s brought you here, and you feel, suddenly, so pleased and warm and right. Everything feels so, so right. You sigh dreamily, suffused at once with a tight, deep heat at the pit of your belly, the scent of him everywhere, bubbles floating up from the bottom of you and seeming to pop out your ears. You lean back into the deep couch, wiggling this way and that, rubbing your bottom into the soft cushions to snuggle up, bringing the neck of his sweater he’d put you in up to your nose to breathe deep and long. 

He’s moving around, arranging things this way and that, a thick log in the slumbering coals, a pillow here, another blanket atop you, not looking at you, setting a wide berth once he’s settled the throw, not talking to you. It’s fine, let him do as he pleases and needs, you’ll sit here and watch. You can tell he doesn’t like to talk, that words cost him something, and you know so little, but you understand this. Words do cost something, truths, the truth of your before life and your not life. The truth of those realities cost. So, yes, you understand, and he doesn’t have to talk if he doesn’t want to yet. And looking at him, you realize that everything inside of you feels soft and bruised and little. And yet, despite all that, ready, in want and need of him. Ready to be big. 

Joel.

You must say the word out loud, his name, for he stops and finally turns to face you. There is something vibrational within him. Different. You’ve never seen a creature as such. You’d never seen an alpha before, not since you’d presented, you’ve never been around one. The caretakers were all always betas, people who would not be affected by the omega’s presence and fluctuations. 

He swallows once, twice, twitches and jerks and heaves a big sigh. He’s so full of energy as you, suddenly, in opposition, feel so sleepy and drowsy and ready to close your eyes and only feel warm and relaxed. You like his house, you might love it, even. 

Your eyelids droop low, slow blinks, and you watch his face fold into a frown. You want to laugh, he does that so much. They’d said that alphas could have big tempers, that they could be brash and aggressive and loud, but that the omega would naturally temper that. You think it may be true because as you watch him through the weave of your lashes, his frown deepening the longer he stares at you slowly drowsing on his couch which you hope he’ll never make you move from, the jitters and the shakes and the trembling that he’d seemed, just a moment ago, to be so full of, begin to quietly abate. 

He takes a step toward you, another and another until his shins meet the edge of the sofa, and you snuggle deeper into the cushions, making yourself into as little a ball as possible, so full of sleepiness. 

“How do you feel?”

“I like your house so much,” you slur, head drooping, lashes drooping. 

He clicks his tongue, makes that rumbly noise you think is an alpha thing because it has your eyes suddenly clicking open, sleep haze clearing momentarily so that you can look up at him again, and he’s looking at you so peculiarly. You scrunch your nose up at him, there’s no need to look at you so, you’re only an omega, only a little tired, nothing to stare at so strangely. 

“I’m–” he clears his throat, makes that rumble, growl, huff sound again, “I’m glad you like it. I wanted you to be comfortable while you’re here.”

And oh, he’s so nice, you tell him, and, “I am. I’m so comfortable.” You melt further into the couch, and he crouches down to peer at you more directly, pulling a soft pillow from the opposite end and tucking it under your head, the large, rough cup of his paw cradling your skull, big fingers weaving through your hair. He arranges you so gently, like he’d take care of you. Like you’re here, finally, finally, you’re here to be taken care of. 

It’s what they’d said would happen, and you’d waited so long. You’d waited too long to be let out of the white box, for him to come, to see the sky. And now there was so much; of him, of the house, of the sky, of your whole life and the sea.

You nuzzle your head into his big hand, the heat of it searing your scalp, your ear tucked into his palm. “Brave girl,” he hums. He has such a deep voice, a good voice for an alpha, you think, a very good voice. You feel it vibrating in your toes and in your eyelashes and in your belly. “You’ve been through a great deal, haven’t you?” You want to say yes, you want to remind him that you’d waited for him for so very long, and that when you woke up, if you remembered, you’d be very cross with him for taking so long to come for you. 

“You rest now,” he says. “It’s all alright now.” Yes, a very good voice.

2. More Intelligent Than a Face

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog

[queers-gambit]

But You Without Me Ain't Nice

prompt: ( requested ) deciding to surprise your boyfriend for Christmas after studying abroad, only to discover him in the arms of another. when you return to Oxford, so does his desire.

pairing: Felix Catton x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Saltburn

word count: 5.7k+

note: it's not EXPLICIT cheating 'cause i wanted them to get back together.

warnings: small bouts of jaded feminism, cursing, hurt and comfort, AU timeline 'cause of implied altered canon, small angst, drama, emotions are hard, long distance relationships are hard, boys are dumb, "cheating" but not explicit - you'll see, more so betrayal, so that makes this relationship angst?

Cassandra's squeal of excitement was shrill enough to pierce an eardrum when you shuffled into her dormitory, shaking the snow from your hair and coat before she hugged you tightly. "I'm so excited you're here!" She beamed, "It's been so fucking lonely without you! God, you just had to leave, huh?"

You chuckled, "Oh, shove it. Edinburgh has one of the best programs in Europe, Cass, you know this!"

"I know, I know, you're better than us little folk at Oxford," she mocked with a groan, letting go of you as your eyes rolled in humor. "But still - it's so boring without you, I miss my roomie. There's literally nobody around for me to cause havoc with," she pouted dramatically.

"Well, I'm here for the holidays," you assured, "so you get me for the next couple weeks, you lucky ducky."

"Oh, please, you and I both know Felix isn't gonna let you outta his sight when he sees you. You planning on goin' home at all?"

"No, no, my sister has a flat just down the way," you explained. "She's in London until after the New Year - gave me her key when she picked me up from the airport," you showed her the metal device with a grin.

"Gonna take Felix back to the flat?"

"If he wants," you nodded.

"Oh, yeah, whatever, a flat completely to yourselves for the entire winter holiday? He's gonna lose his mind," your friend tutted. "When are you seeing him?"

"Uh, he said he was going to some party tonight?"

"Well, that's normal," she muttered almost bitterly. "C'mon, get changed, we'll meet him there."

"What do you mean, 'normal'?"

"What? Oh," her head shook as if realizing what she had just said. "No, it's - it's nothing, just," she winced slightly, "Felix is at every party."

"Really?" You asked softly. "We talk all the time on the phone, when does he even have time?"

"No offense, but it's not like he's a model student. He's constantly partying, I hear about it all the time from girls in class - "

"What do they say?"

"He's just popular - you know, he's Felix. And he's a regular at the pubs, too."

You had a weird feeling in your gut and chest, just nodding at Cassandra. "Well, at least he's enjoying himself," you offered meekly.

"Mhm, got that right," she snickered. "He's a legend 'round the university, even people in other colleges and programs know about him. Guess that's one way t'make an impression."

"Yeah, that's Felix for yah," you sighed. "Can I borrow an outfit?"

"What's wrong with that?" She paused, looking you up and down, then wincing, "Yeah, okay, I have options for you."

"Oh, don't sound so judgmental!" You laughed, "I just didn't pack party clothes, I didn't think we'd be going to any."

"You're so lucky to have me," she grinned at you, shoving through a rack of options in her wardrobe. "You wanna look classy slutty, spicy slutty, or just plain slutty-slutty?"

You hummed and chose the 'classy' option, being an open back black mini dress that clung to your figure and hiked up your thighs with every step. It felt exciting to be with Cassandra again, meeting your first year of secondary school and becoming the closest of friends; enduring family turmoil and social drama arm-in-arm. You listened to preppy pop music as you got ready; taking turns in the bathroom to finish your hair and make-up before slipping the dress on and latching the borrowed heels around your ankles.

When you gave her a look at your final outfit, she approved - claiming Felix would probably have a heart attack when he saw you.

"Wait!" You laughed, snatching a festive Santa Claus hat from the care package her parents sent; nestling it on your head. "Eh? Eh? Right? It's good!"

"Girl - "

"C'mon, it's festive!"

"You're lucky you're just so damn cute - it works," she grinned, tossing you your coat before shrugging into hers. "Hold on - you know the rules!" She halted you from opening the dorm door, holding up the bottle of tequila. "Shots before we leave!"

"Jesus, I've missed you," you laughed, taking the solo cup she held out; watching her pour enough for at least 2-3 shots.

"It'll keep us warm in the snow," she explained. "They not partying down at Edinburgh?"

"Not like here," you snickered, downing the drinks with a screwed up expression. "And they're all really preppy - like I thought Oxford had snobs, but Christ Almighty. My roommate down there literally had a panic attack when I bought a bottle of wine."

"Why?"

"She's American, said they're not allowed until they're 21."

"Wow... That's gotta suck for them," she downed her own shots. "Okay! You ready? Wait, are you wearing panties?"

"Yeah - "

"You can't in that dress."

"I'm not taking my panties off, Cass, let's just go!" You laughed, snatching her hand and leading her out of the dorm. "So, c'mon, tell me about the guy you're seeing," you requested, looping your arms together, trudging onto the snowy sidewalk.

"Oh, you mean Jason? Yeah, no, that's over. I just realized that being here is literally the only time in my life I'll have all these easy opportunities and there was no use in wasting my time dating just one person. And it eliminates the threat of cheating. Like... I don't hold my liquor all that well anymore and there's so many good looking people here! Why be in a relationship and run that risk, you know?"

You blinked at her, unsure what to say.

"Oh," she froze, "no, no, I didn't mean - no, look, dating in college is really cool when you know you're with the right person. And since you and Felix have been together for two years already, I think it's pretty safe to say he's the right one - right?"

"I think so... But I can't lie, I've been feeling kinda guilty, thinking Felix would prefer the opportunity to sow his wild oats instead of committing to us. You know? Like you said - "

"No, don't do that, you're gonna give yourself an aneurysm being stressed and upset," she hugged your arm tightly, continuing down the sidewalk. "Felix doesn't want t'be single, he would've bucked up the nerve to break up already. And you guys talk so often, he would've said something, right?"

You mused, "Not necessarily, Felix is used to having all he wants."

She shrugged off your words, "You're overthinking 'cause you're nervous to surprise him. But you're the best Christmas present, seriously. Made my day all the better."

You just smiled and skipped over the patch of ice in your way, nearly slipping, but Cassandra kept a tight hold on you - laughing loudly, your amused shrieks echoing around the brownstone buildings. When you arrived at the flat hosting the party, you climbed 2 flights of stairs without incident and let yourselves in; being greeted by strobe lights, thick clouds of smoke, and an abundance of drunken Oxford students.

It was packed - a welcomed sight after your past semester abroad, attending dinner parties with tart wines and classical music. You only had one more semester left before coming back to Oxford full time, and things just weren't the same being away; you missed the excitement, the parties, the friends you made. Granted, you had friends at Edinburgh, you often thought you could make friends anywhere, but you knew a lot of faces here. It was a comfort. And despite knowing you were here only a couple weeks until the next semester began again, it was still nice being back.

You were greeted by several people, being hugged happily and your cheeks kissed sloppily. They asked all about your program in Scotland, insisting you do rounds of shots with them, updating you on the juiciest gossip you missed.

They told you everything... Except what you should've known.

"Have you guys seen Felix?" You asked, glancing around the packed party. You noticed the uncomfortable looks exchanged, questioning, "What? What is it?"

"Uh, you know what?" Oliver Quick sighed, a new addition to the friend group that you didn't know - actually meeting for the first time tonight. "Yeah, yeah, saw him over there - on the sofa," he pointed somewhere behind you.

"Thanks, mate," you patted his shoulder, turning to push through the partygoers.

When you were gone, Farleigh turned to Oliver, "What the fuck was that? You know Felix is drunk off his tits and India's rubbing real close."

"So? Shouldn't she know someone's making moves on her man?" Oliver asked. "Not exactly fair - "

"It's not entirely fair to set Felix up like that," Farleigh sneered. "He misses her, so he drinks, flirts with girls. But he's not acting on it, you just want to get him in trouble, you fuckin' twat!"

Oliver shrugged, looking over in time to spy you approaching the couch. "He'll only get in trouble if he's acting on his impulses, being unfaithful," Ollie sneered.

When you made it through the crowd, you found Felix sitting on the couch, but what made you stop in your tracks was the little lady sat on his lap - a girl you recognized vaguely. Felix downed the shot being handed to him, grinning that stupid grin you adore, broad hands splayed on the girl's thigh as she curled into her chest with skinny arms wrapped around his neck. Her sticky lips whispered something in his ear, giving a small nibble that made your boyfriend laugh - always the ticklish type.

The alcohol you had already downed burned an angry hole in your gut, heart heavy with betrayal, feeling outrage at their audacity the longer you watched. You looked beside you and snatched the drink from a drunk guy, taking two dramatic strides up to them and without thought, launched the entire cup at the couple.

"You bitch!" India gasped, rocketing to her feet. Felix was about to yell himself, but when he looked up and registered your angry eyes glaring at him, he gaped in shock. "Seriously, what the fuck is your issue, slut?" India sneered, stamping her foot.

"Oh, fuck off, sweetheart," you snapped, "not like it's my boyfriend you're sitting on! Really wouldn't throw stones if I was you!"

Felix stood and pushed India to the side, "Baby - "

"Oh, spare me your fucking excuses, Felix! For Christ's sake! This is what you've been doing while I'm gone!? Huh!?"

"No - "

"Bullshit! Cass told me you're constantly partying, so is this what you do? Huh? Hang up the phone with me, come to these shitty parties, get shit faced, and take girls home before calling me in the morning? You even wait until they're gone before dialing my number?"

"Darling, I swear - nothing was happening, nothing was going to happen! I don't - "

"Well, not with us soaking wet!" India raged. "You're just a jealous hag, I mean, you're dating someone like Felix but I've never even seen you! Maybe if you were a better girlfriend, he wouldn't be looking elsewhere!"

"Jesus Christ, India! Fuck off - NOW!" Felix bellowed, shocking the girl. "You don't know a Goddamn thing you're saying, and you know you're too desperate - "

"Oh! So, you're moving in on 'desperate' girls 'cause they're easy, right?" You snapped. "She might be desperate, but you are fucking pathetic, Felix! I know you get everything you want, I know you don't know real consequences, but I don't have to add to that!"

"Let's just talk outside," he tried, looking more and more like a kicked puppy.

"I'm not going anywhere with you again. This isn't working, Felix, there's no way I can trust you - not when I've just seen - this!"

"Baby, it isn't - look, this isn't what it looks like! Okay? I know it looks bad, but I don't touch them - "

"There's more!? Of course, there's more - 'cause why have just one, right?"

He winced, "I just - listen, I only flirt, baby, I swear, but I-I know that's not much better. You bein' gone, I-I have this pent up energy - "

"Oh, the poor rich boy! Unsupervised without his girlfriend, so you think it's okay to flirt with other girls? Have them sit on your lap? Touch them? Flirt all night?"

"I know it sounds bad - "

"No, you know what?" You chuckled ruefully. "You two have fun, I'm out. I'm so fucking done with you, Felix, this relationship - it obviously isn't viable. So, have your skank, but make sure you get to a clinic. You obviously couldn't choose someone decent to cheat on me with, make sure she doesn't give you any STDs."

"What did you say, bitch!?" India tried to surge up to you, but Cassandra stepped in and shoved both her shoulders; sending her sprawling to the dirty, sticky floor.

"Watch yourself," she barked, dropping another drink on her and making India squeal. She glared at Felix and approached you, hushing, "You okay?"

"No."

"Let's get outta here," she nodded, wrapping you in her arms and leading the way out - not like she had to, students parted way like the Red Sea to let you two pass.

"Wait!" Felix rushed, grabbing his jacket and following you both out. Despite the heels, mini dresses, and alcohol, you and Cass were sober enough to scurry down the stairs and outside by the time he caught up. "Baby! Wait! Please, c'mon, let me explain!"

"You've done enough! I've seen enough!" You yelled back, Cass not stopping you two from making your escape. "Just fuck off back to your whores, Felix!"

"No, no," he rushed in front of you two, forcing you to stop. "Let me talk to you, please, you think it's worse than it is, I mean - "

"Awh, you think just touching other bitches isn't that bad?" Cass sneered. "Silly slut," she scoffed, rolling her pretty eyes.

"Cass, do you mind? This is between us," He sighed.

"Oh-ho, I very much mind," she rolled her eyes. "Grovel if you want, but I'm not leaving you two alone."

"I don't want to talk, Felix! For fuck's sake, I saw all I needed to. I'm literally killing myself slowly in Scotland, trying to secure my own future 'cause not all of us can be born into money - "

"Baby, that's not fair - "

" - And you're here, living your best life, being fucking deceitful, aren't you? Your girlfriend on the side and a full buffet of sluts to choose from - and nobody would know 'cause I wasn't in the fucking country! You know what?" You chuckled, "Thank you, actually. Thank you for proving what I feared the most and cutting us free. Better to know now than later when I'm far more invested. Enjoy your pick of the fucking litter, Felix, 'cause I'm removing myself from this equation, you're now free to do whatever you want - don't have to be such a gentleman anymore and just flirt with them."

"You're right, okay? You're right, I wasn't thinking, I was trying to - I don't even know! Have 'the college experience', I think, and I got carried away. I'm so sorry - "

"You're only sorry 'cause you got caught," Cass snapped.

"Ohk for fuck's sake - Cass, I love you and all, but do you mind if this stays between my girl and I?"

"Oh, so you inviting all that female attention was 'keeping it between you'?" She cocked her head, rolling her eyes. "C'mon, babe, let's go. You don't need to hear his pathetic whinging anymore."

"Think you're right," you sniffled from the cold. "Bye, Felix."

"Please - let's just talk about this!"

"No more talking!" You barked. "You don't need to defend yourself, I saw her with you - I don't need your excuses! This is over, Felix, just - for God's sake, fuck off, already!"

He froze, never hearing such aggressive words from you before. In the years you were friends and the two you've dated, you hadn't so much as raised your voice at him - even when upset. To hear such profanity at this level shocked him. He's heard you yell, but usually at other people; he's heard you curse, but typically from excitement. He felt overwhelmed watching Cassandra walk you away under her arm, the tears surfacing and his confusion blinding; wondering how the hell he had managed to fuck everything up THIS bad.

When you got back to her dorm, you were a wreck and Cassandra wasn't sure how to start comforting you. She watched you slide to the floor in tears and squatted to take your shoes off, set the bottle of tequila beside you, and then got comfortable on the ground, too. She stretched her arm around your shoulders, sighing sadly, and just held you when you sobbed uselessly into her neck.

No amount of crying would change the past. No amount of frustration or self-pity would help. No amount of regret would turn back time and prevent you from leaving your very attractive boyfriend to the mercy of Oxford sluts.

After an hour of just crying, Cassandra perked up and asked, "You wanna stay the night here or go to your sister's?"

"Felix knows where your dorm is," you sniffled, mascara down your cheeks and chin. "Maybe we should go?"

"You want me to come, too?"

"I don't want to be alone..."

"Lemme pack real fast," she agreed, leaving you on the floor to drink until you felt numb while she raced around to prepare a duffel bag. When she was finished, she hoisted you from the ground and took her car keys, shouldering your own duffel, and leading you out of the dorms. On your way to student parking, neither of you were surprised to find Felix sprinting in your direction.

"Baby! Wait, wait, wait! Please!" He begged, barely slowing down and literally skidding to a halt, nearly slipping on ice. "Just - please, let me talk to you. I-I can't let you leave thinking I fucked those girls - "

"Oh, just go fuck yourself, Felix!" You laughed.

"Is she drunk?" He asked Cass in mild shock.

"Do you know a better way to deal with a break up?" She rolled her eyes.

"We're not broken up - "

"I heard otherwise," she sneered. "You're not used to losing, Felix, but the rest of us, on Earth, know when a relationship is over."

"I made a mistake!" He pleaded loudly.

"Just one?" You snapped.

"No, you know what? I've made a few, but I swear, nothing fucking happened! Not with any of them!"

"Oh," you mocked, snickering to Cassandra.

"Just give me a chance - "

"I did," you interrupted sadly. "I gave you all the chances, Felix, and you still chose to betray me. So, you know what? I just need time to digest your bullshit betrayal, and in order to do that, I literally can't be around you."

"How will you know how sorry I am?"

"I know, I can see it - just like I saw that bitch on your lap," you scoffed. "Can we go now?"

"C'mon, babe," Cass agreed.

"Go? Go where?" He rushed, looking panicked.

"Away from you!" You laughed, holding onto your friends arm tightly as you wobbled in her borrowed shoes.

"At least let me help you - "

"Don't need help from a slut!" You shouted to the sky, not stopping.

Felix Catton was left standing in the snow, his heart walking away from him in heels too high.

And when you got to your sister's flat, Cassandra raided the fridge and brought you ice cream and pretzels - for something both sweet and salty. For the rest of the night, you cried while stuffing your face, but whatever it was worth, at the very least, you had your best friend there to wipe your tears.

Well, after a gut wrenching Christmas break, you went back to Scotland to finish an anticlimactic semester at one of the world's most prestigious universities. Without Felix to call, you dedicated more time to studying, which paid off, because by the end, you received the highest marks in your college and earned multiple letters of recommendations from well-respected professors.

But now that the year abroad was over, you were set to return to Oxford for the next three weeks to report back to your program chairs and give them an update. Suddenly, it was like the entire semester of avoiding your feelings about Felix caught up to you the moment you boarded the plane. You had stuffed your emotions deep down, ignored his morning and evening phone calls (yes, he still called everyday), and tried your hand at dating other people - but it wasn't the same. You hated that you missed him so much, but you figured you had more self-respect than to belittle yourself for a man.

A beautiful, kind, generous man... Who made a mistake... Who demonstrated remorse... Who understands what he did was wrong and hurtful... And your Daddy did raise you to 'forgive and forget'. But still, you had a difficult time forgiving Felix in full, and therefore, couldn't forget what he did.

The betrayal was still so fresh and you couldn't stomach the idea of even speaking to him. So, you decided to avoid him by any means.

When you returned to England, it was drearier than normal. Your sister wasn't able to pick you up this time, figuring you would just hail a cab when someone laid on their horn in a long, continuous, obnoxious beep. When you looked over, Cassandra was waving at you rapidly through her window.

With an easy grin, you rushed over to her car and tossed the few bags you had into the backseat before getting in the passenger seat. "What're you doing here?" You gasped, leaning in to hug your friend.

She returned your affection enthusiastically, then was pushing you off, "Bitch, I'm double parked in the red - we gotta go!" You laughed when she rushed off, heading back to Oxford as she explained, "But you said on the phone your sister wasn't getting you, so I took the liberty of reading between the lines."

"No, I didn't mean it like that - "

"I know you didn't," she grinned, "but I just wanted to get you to campus all the faster, I've missed you!"

"We have three weeks together before the start of summer," you reminded. "Ready for exams?"

"Hardly," she scoffed. "Enough of that! Tell me all about Scotland!"

You spent the rest of the car ride without a single thought spent on Felix - all too appreciative for friends. Until you got back to the dorms, that is. You'd been there all of an hour before there was a knock at the door and when Cassandra opened it, she glanced up and down the hall in confusion, not seeing anyone - but a bouquet of flowers caught her attention.

"Well, this is cute," she mused, picking up the flowers from the floor and closing the door. "Someone left flowers? Ew, bet they're from Jason - he's been begging me to get back together."

You didn't bother reminding her they were the same Felix always sent you. You just nodded and said they must've indeed been for her since nobody knew when you were coming back. Yet something in your stomach churned, knowing this was no coincidence, you knew they were from Felix, and the idea made you oddly... Warm.

You didn't want to be touched by the small gesture, but it was sweet. Reminded you of the good times between you and Fi. You felt your guts twist, realizing how much you missed him. None the less, you never said a word.

The following day was as normal as it could've been. People were looking both happy to see you and exhausted from prep work before final exams. You understood, having completed yours; all that was left was to write up a report to your dean and other department heads and present it. You spent your days in the library while everyone was in class, and while there, you were surprised to see Felix hunched over a set of books.

You didn't approach him, just chose a separate table and got comfortable. You were in the zone for a solid hour before a shadow loomed over you, making you jump when a hand met your shoulder. "Sorry, sorry," Felix rushed, hands held in defense. "Just thought I'd give you this - you seemed really focused."

You blinked when he set a blueberry muffin down. The gesture made you smile, "You remembered?"

For every study session, you had a blueberry muffin to munch on.

"'Course I do," he nodded rapidly. "Remember everything about you, love. And these were always your favorite, right?"

"Yeah," you breathed. "Uh, thanks, Fi, this was nice of you."

"Seemed really focused, wanted to make sure you ate," he half-smiled. "I didn't mean to interrupt, uh, j-just wanted t'say good luck on your presentation."

Your heart clenched when he walked away back to his table, not once looking up at you as he worked. He really only meant to give you the muffin, which surprised you - Felix was terribly persistent, and for some reason, you actually felt sad that he wasn't vying for your attention or forgiveness.

This felt like a reality check, reminding you that you were truly broken up. So, you just sniffled and focused again, nibbling on the muffin as you revised your report. You hated the tension, the distance, the disturbing idea that while gone, he had been with countless other girls. You especially hated that you began regretting leaving for a year, feeling as if you created this situation by leaving room for Felix to seek attention elsewhere.

You knew it wasn't the truth - this wasn't your fault. You weren't the one who decided to implode your relationship, to be unfaithful in the least bit; and seeking higher educational opportunity wasn't grounds for anyone to cheat. It felt entirely unfair; you were in the same position as Felix, alone in another country, missing your friends and family, and yet, YOU never sought attention - emotional or physical - in any way from anyone else.

You at least had a sense of loyalty. But at the same time, you tried to validate that this was "the best years of your lives" and Felix was a young, hot, rich boy. Why wouldn't he bask in the attention of others? He always had and it felt wrong to crucify him for being a lad with hormones.

You began to wonder, did you overreact? Of course you didn't!

But you missed him immensely.

For the three weeks left in the semester, Felix would leave flowers at your dorm room, brought you little treats, never impeded on your space, and just made himself known without being overwhelming. You thought it was endearing without giving him too much credit after his betrayal. For three weeks, he was sweet, kind, soft spoken, and from what you understood, turned reclusive - refusing any party invitation, even backing out of pub meetings.

He wasn't hanging with friends, drinking, distracted with girls. According to local gossip, if you could put stock into the words, this new behavior started right after Christmas; after your very public break-up.

You were mildly intrigued by his change of attitude, but didn't confront it. You felt distance was necessary for healing, yet there was no denying your love that still festered - and maybe, the idea that Felix was truly remorseful and loved you, too.

It all came to a cultivation on the day of your presentation. To say you were nervous was an understatement - pacing the entire night before, going over what you were going to say, making final revisions; driving Cassandra up the wall, but she was still supportive.

That morning, she left early for her own ventures, but made sure to help you pick out an outfit. It was something smart, it complimented your figure in a professional manner and made you feel powerful and like a "real" adult.

You packed your bag and walked to your college's lecture hall, getting there about 20 minutes early to set up your materials and run through your notes one last time. When your dean and other professors entered to settle in their seats at the front, you heard the upper backdoor open. When you looked up, you were shocked - like, actually shocked - to see Felix sitting up there with Cassandra, Farleigh, your parents and sister.

You tried not to dwell on their presence, but suddenly, knowing Felix was there to support you, you didn't feel so nervous anymore. Something about his viewing of your final project made you a little more confident, quelling your nausea as you cleared your throat and started your oral presentation that had a guided visual and 20-page report.

When you finished, you were grinning. Your deans applauded you, and from the back, so did your friends and family; in fact, Felix was on his feet, clapping with vigor. You handed over the flash-drive that housed your visuals and then your bound essay report, shaking the professors hands, and letting them leave.

When you turned, your family had descended the auditorium stairs and your friends were trailing after.

"Oh, you brilliant girl!" Your father gushed, wrapping you in a huge hug. "My perfect, most special girl! That was amazing!"

"Thanks, Daddy," you giggled. "What're you guys doing here?"

"Oh, Felix called," your mother informed, petting hair off your shoulder in a calming motion. "Glad he did, we're so proud of you."

"I didn't even know peers could sit in," you admitted.

"Apparently, they're not, but you know, Felix has a way with rules," your father sighed, shaking his head in amusement. "Thank God you got your mother's intelligence, fear you'd be shit outta luck if you had mine, eh?"

This triggered a round of other compliments from your loved ones; sister and Cassandra both beaming at you in pride, everyone offering their compliments on specific sections of your presentation to prove they really, truly had been listening. You felt bashful, waving them off out of embarrassment, and then you agreed to attend dinner for a celebration - your mother informing you that the summer would be spent in a French villa and details were to be discussed at the meal. But first, you noticed Felix still sitting high up in the lecture hall and promised you meet everyone at the dorm later.

When the hall cleared, you sighed and slowly made your way up to where Felix lingered; his form fidgeting nervously the closer you got. You dropped to the seat beside him with a deep sigh, ready to confront everything, when he offered a decently large bouquet of familiar flowers. "Congrats, love," he whispered. "Was really well-done, even if I didn't know half of what you were sayin'."

You accepted the flowers, petting the petals gingerly, then asking in a low whisper, "Felix?"

"Yeah, love?"

"Why'd you do it?"

"I know how important this was for you, I asked them all to come so we could support you, knowin' you were nervous - "

"No," you interrupted, turning in your seat to face him. "Why'd you have to go and ruin us? Why wasn't I enough?"

He swallowed thickly, "It wasn't you that wasn't enough."

"Huh?"

"Think I felt insecure," he admitted. "You were at Edinburgh, bettering yourself and I think I got scared that you'd love it there so much, you know, that... You'd leave. Leave Oxford, leave England, leave... Me. So, I just... I don't have any excuse, honestly, love. I know I fucked up, but I think my fear was being projected in the worst way..."

You nodded, "Do you regret it?"

"Every fuckin' day."

"Any plans for tonight?"

"What?" He blinked in shock.

"You wanna come to dinner with us? I mean, you went through the trouble of gettin' everyone here - and I know you must've bribed someone to let them watch."

His cheeks reddened, chuckling nervously, "It wasn't... I didn't... All right, yeah, I had to pay off the custodian - he unlocked the door for us."

"Mhm," you smirked. "So? Dinner?"

"Are you sure?"

You nodded, "You made a mistake... A huge one, but a mistake none the less. We've had time apart, and I've learned, I don't want to be without you. My life is far more interesting with you in it and I feel less alone. So, if you want, I'd like for you to come to dinner with us, maybe work on our friendship again. See where things go?"

"As long as you're okay with it."

"I'm the one inviting you, yes, I'm okay with it," you chuckled at his nerves, standing, and offering your hand. "C'mon, Mum says we're spending the summer in France - maybe we can convince her to invite you, too."

"Doubt Cassandra would let that happen," Felix mused, shouldering his bag and taking your hand - instantly lacing your fingers together.

"Oh, on the contrary, she might like it; it'd give her something to do."

"What's that? Makin' me her personal punching bag?"

"Exactly," you grinned, squeezing his hand.

"Hey," he paused you before you could exit the auditorium, looking sadder than when his dog died; bottom lip gently trembling. "I just... I need you t'know, I'm really fuckin' sorry, love. I was an absolute idiot, I fucked this up - broke your trust. I regret nothing more, I was such a fuckin' arsehole, and I don't want to be without you, either. I realized I'm not myself without you, that me without you doesn't feel right - "

"Hey," you halted his rambling, "I can't tell you it's okay, Fi, because it's not, but your atonement is appreciated. We've been friends for so long, I don't think I want to walk away entirely - so, let's just go slow and figure our shit out." He nodded in agreement, letting you lead the way, smirking when you cheekily told him, "Mh, bit of advice though? You could try to get in good graces by payin' for dinner tonight."

"Done and done," he eased, releasing your hand to hang his arm around your shoulders, and just like old times, you raised your hand to lace with his, other wrapping around his waist. The smile didn't fall from Felix's face all night, and by the end of the night, had arranged to stay with your family that summer - Oliver Quick and what could've been a summer at Saltburn far from his mind.

requesting rules and masterlist

Saltburn masterlist

[mermazing-art]

The real name of the Furious Five 

After the Kung Fu Panda 4 movie I started thinking about what Zhen's first conversations with the Furious Five would be like. I imagined her nervous about making a good impression but fitting quite well with her group dynamic given her mischievous attitude and enjoying their adventures with her, establishing a relationship of trust. Which led me to a thought "Would she, wanting to know them more, ask them what their real names are?"

This theory has been circulating in the fandom for years since it is said that their names actually refer to their fighting styles or their species (as well as Master Ox, Crocodile or Rhino) since those who retain their own name within this discipline are those who have a superior role such as Oogway, Shifu or Po and those who do not have a title such as Zhen or Tai Lung.

Well, I decided to look for a suitable name for each one, one that fit their physique or personality, that was easy to remember and that would distinguish one another, let's go!

Mantis: Xun Yu ( fast jade )

With Mantis I was clear that I didn't want to look for anything that had to do with his size but I did want to highlight his most powerful abilities such as his speed.  That's where his first name, Xun, comes from.  His middle name, Yu (Jade), is because of his green color although this can also mean ''insect'' depending on the kanji with which it is written.  My idea is that Mantis calls himself ''the green lightning'' referring to his real name.

Crane: Zimo ( refined ink )

At first I wanted his name to be related to the sky or the air due to his avian species or his techniques, but it made me think that one of the things that catches my attention about this character is his interest in Chinese calligraphy.  Therefore, I decided to name him Zimo (ink or writing) to reflect his beloved hobby in his name.

Monkey: Wong Sang ( yellow mulberry )

For Monkey, I researched his voice actor, the one and only Jackie Chan, born Chan Kong-Sang. I wanted to take it as a reference by changing the name Kong since it is the name of the Monkey's brother to Wong (yellow), relating it to the color of his fur. I wanted to make a reference to his comic side but I couldn't find a suitable name for the guidelines I had assigned to it.

Viper: Jia Ling ( beautiful tinkle )

As with Monkey, I researched on her voice actress, Lucy Liu, whose full name is Lucy Alexis Liu Yu Ling. I wanted to reflect her charming and sweet personality, so I took the name Ling (tinkerbell) as a reference of the hiss' snake she produces, as well as her happy attitude.  But her first name would be Jia to emphasize the beauty of this character.

Tigress: Xia ( sunrise )

For her, I thought I would delve deeper into her story and her development as a character in order to give her the appropriate name.  This is her story:

When Tigress lived in the orphanage, she received the name Xian ("who lives in seclusion") from the other children perpetuating their contempt and fear of her. When Shifu finally decided to adopt her, after He heard that name many times, almost always accompanied by the word "monster", he asked her what new name she would like. She simply accepted Tigress because she didn't believe she could deserve a name. Shifu pondered and decided to call him Xia. Tigress at first didn't like this idea because it sounded similar to the previous one, but Shifu explained his choice to her. Both names, although similar, did not have the same meaning because now she would no longer be in the darkness, secluded and alone, but rather she had the opportunity for a new life, a path marked by the light that emanated from her, a new sunrise.

So yes, Zhen would ask the furious five their names, giving the situation that Po would find out right then and there about this. Everyone except Tigress would answer this question since for her it is still a very personal matter related to her past and Shifu and she still doesn't feel comfortable sharing it with everyone. Could Tigress talk to a certain panda about this?

[7-3-softie]

Coke in the Midas Touch

UPDATED: 10/1/24

This is my first ever attempt at writing for the JJK fandom, specifically for my favorite 7:3 ratio sorcerer, Nanami. So, I hope I did the character justice. (This is also my first attempt at writing smut after having many years of reading it, so please be nice).

Summary description: Nanami Kento, after having left the Jujutsu society in exchange for a normal job as a salaryman, encounters the new hire at work who slowly becomes the object of his affections the more that she becomes the office scapegoat; Villain!Nanami.

Disclaimer: Please keep in mind that I am not Japanese, nor am I an expert in Japanese work culture. So, if there are some things wrong, or inaccurately portrayed, I do apologize.

Content warning: use of Y/N, reader insert is afab and referred to as such, sexual themes, sex between characters, violence between characters, adults being overgrown children and should behave better at their grown ages but they don't, toxic work culture, pawa-hara culture.

WC: 12.7 K (it's a novel, I'm sorry)

Minors Do Not Interact

When Nanami Kento first laid eyes on her, he thought that she was unassuming. 

On her very first day of work, he remembers that she was stood at the front of the office with the associate manager of the sales department, making the standard introduction of any new hire.

“Hello! It’s a pleasure to meet you all! My name is Y/N! I will try to do my best! Please take care of me!” Which was then followed by a full 45 degree bow at the waist. 

He noted that her eyes were bright and filled with some semblance of hope. Nanami also cynically wondered how quick it would be for the corporate overlords, demanding deadlines, and lack of work-life balance to crush her spirit. 

He had only been at this company for the past two, almost three, years, but he was already jaded to begin with. 

She was assigned to be under his supervision for the training period, which Nanami found to be somewhat irritating. It wasn’t anything against her, he just knew that he wasn’t exactly the nicest person in the office, nor did he have the patience to deal with new hires. Somehow, they always ended up under his direct supervision for training purposes. Maybe it was his superior’s way of tormenting him given the fact that he refused to engage in the locker room talk that the male employees would have about the female staff or that he didn’t partake in the after work get-togethers at the local bars where they would all drink themselves silly. Or maybe it was his superior's way of letting him know that he was doing a “great job” by giving him more tasks, because they knew that they could count on Nanami to do proper work. 

Nanami would like to think that it was the latter. However, he knew better than that. 

“Your desk is located over here, by Nanami-san. He’ll be the one that will assist you with your orientation period.” She’s led over by the associate manager to the empty desk that sits beside Nanami. “If you have any questions, refer to him. He’s been at the company for the past several years and has done a fine job of it.”

Nanami gets up from his desk to greet them as they approach. “You speak too highly of me, Akiyama-buchou,” Nanami rebukes, attempting to remain humble. His eyes fall from associate manager Akiyama to the new hire. “Nanami Kento. Pleased to meet you.” He bows. 

She bows, holding a box of items. “Pleased to meet you!” her voice chipper.

“Now, before I leave, do you have any questions for me?” Akiyama asks her.

She shakes her head. “No, sir.”

“Alright, well, I’ll leave you to it, then.” He promptly turns away, heading to his desk that was sectioned off in his own private office, leaving both Nanami and the new hire.

Alone. Somewhat.

Together.

She turns to face Nanami, placing the box of personal belongings on her desk, a small smile still on her face. “So…what should we get started on first?” 

And thus, began a somewhat tentatively professional relationship between Nanami and the new hire. Every time she saw him first thing in the morning when the both of them were coming into the office, she would be quick to greet him with a cheerful: “Good morning, senpai!” that would be followed with vigorous waving. She always attempted to make conversation with him whenever she could, included him in small talk with other coworkers around the office, got him coffee whenever it was her turn to do the coffee runs even when he didn’t request anything or want anything in particular (and she wouldn’t allow him to pay her back for going out of her way). When the days would end, if she were to cross paths with Nanami while on they’re way out, she would give him that same vigorous wave while saying: “Have a good night, senpai! Get home safely!” 

Nanami wasn’t entirely too sure if she wanted something out of him or if she was just this nice all the time. Given, however, his previous experience with seeing the worst out of humanity and in the dealings of curses and cursed energy by proxy as a jujutsu sorcerer, could one really blame him? 

Then again. Would it be too terrible for him to consider that maybe, just maybe… that out of all the shitty people in this world… that there was at least one good person that existed to make up for it? 

Maybe he was getting ahead of himself.

~

“Good morning, senpai!” Nanami was greeted by her in the break room while he was getting a cup of coffee from the communal coffee machine. 

Nanami glances over his shoulder to look at her. “Good morning.” He keeps his responses short. 

There’s a small silence that follows between the two of them, the only sounds being the steady drip of the coffee machine and the whirring of the employee communal refrigerator. For Nanami, the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was actually welcome. 

“Nanami-senpai.”

He turns to face her, holding the cup of coffee in his hand, staring at her quizzically. 

“There was talk…about wanting to go out after work for drinks, and I was wondering if-”

“No, thank you. I’m not interested.” Nanami’s response is immediate, as if he doesn’t have to think twice about it. He’s beyond accustomed to rejecting the offers to spend time with his co-workers outside of work. 

The next words die in her throat as soon as she hears Nanami’s dismissal. A sinking feeling of dejection fills her chest as Nanami rejects her offer, but she’s quick to push the feelings aside, trying to not let them deter her mood.  

“May I ask you something?” Nanami can sense the hesitancy in the question, almost as if she were afraid to ask it. 

“Sure.” 

“Forgive me if this is too forward, but why is it that you never care to partake in festivities outside of the professional setting? I mean, I’ve seen you reject offers from other colleagues around the office, higher-ups like Akiyama-buchou, and even offers from Fumiko-senpai! And she’s one of the prettiest women in the office!”

Nanami squints his eyes in confusion. “Wait, how did you hear about that?”

“She talked about it one morning while she was at the copier with Aiko-senpai. I was within earshot of their conversation. She seemed pretty upset by it.” 

I would have thought that she would have taken the hint by now, given the fact that this is the fourth time that she’s asked me out, and it’s my fourth time rejecting her, Nanami thought sullenly to himself. Nonetheless, he answers her question. “Listen to me, Y/N-chan, I’m not here to mix my personal life with my professional life. I’m simply here to clock in, do what’s expected of me for my role in this company, and clock out so I can earn enough money to make at least a decent living in this hellscape of a society. Nothing more, nothing less.”

She shrinks back just a tiny bit as he speaks, fearing that she may have crossed an unspoken boundary that he had set for himself.  She continues with her questioning. “And… What about what the superiors think? Doesn’t their opinion of you matter in the long run of your employment here? I mean… don’t you want to move up in the ranks?” 

“To be frank, I could care less about what they think. They already take up enough of my time here, they don’t need to take up anymore outside of my working hours. I hate overtime.” He turns to leave the break room, realizing how much time he’s wasted there in the breakroom, talking to her. He needs to get back to his desk.

“Nanami-senpai,” she says, almost bewildered. There was a hint of admiration behind it though. To her, he had a backbone that she could only dream of. 

He pauses at the door, his hand on the knob. He glances up at her over his shoulder, a somewhat cynical glint to his eyes. “To put it lightly, Y/N-chan, there are worse things out there than upset higher-ups simply because you told them ‘no’.” His mind flashes back to seeing the bodies of his dead friends on cold metal examination tables in the morgue room of Jujutsu Tech. The wails of curses and dying humans echo in his ears as he reminisces on his times as an up and coming Jujutsu sorcerer, but he doesn’t dare falter. 

She nods, her gaze landing on her hands that were intertwined together, digesting what he had to say. “I understand, senpai.”

There’s a pregnant pause before he faces the door again, his hand turning the knob on the door. 

“No… no, I don’t think you do, Y/N-chan.”

He opens the door to see Fumiko outside. He gives her a small polite smile and a nod before making his way around her to get back to his desk.  

Fumiko watches as he leaves, a look of longing on her face. She turns to look at Y/N and a surly look crosses her face. She enters the breakroom, heading to the coffee machine with an empty mug in her hands. 

The tension in the air was thick enough that either one of them could cut it with a knife. 

Fumiko didn’t say a word to her, but Y/N knew that in her heart of hearts that she’s done something terribly wrong to grossly piss one of her seniors off. 

~

At first, it started off small. 

Her orders were conveniently forgotten when the coffee runs or lunch runs were being made. Other office workers started to hand off their assignments to her, making her workload three times what it originally was supposed to be, making late nights a near constant for her. Anytime something went wrong in the office, to miniscule things like if if the copier ran out of ink and it wasn’t replaced as quickly as possible, to major things like if certain papers or documents weren’t delivered to another department in a timely manner, then she would be a scapegoat for the blame. 

She didn’t say a word about it to anyone, however. It’s not like she was in a position to be complaining about it. She knew that if she were to say anything, then she would be called “ungrateful”, “lazy”, and that “she should be lucky that any job decided to hire her on”.

Nanami noticed fairly quickly what was going on and found himself to be disgusted by the behavior of his co-workers. This wasn’t the first time that a stunt like this was pulled on the new hires. There was an old mentality that still existed of newcomers needing to “prove themselves” or “earn their place amongst their peers”. He honestly thought that this kind of stuff would have ended the moment that he graduated from secondary school and entered into the workforce, thinking that full fledged adults would learn how to properly behave and conduct themselves in a mature manner.

Needless to say, he was dead wrong about that. Some of them get even worse with old age. 

Though he's learned to separate his professional feelings from his personal feelings, it would be untruthful to say that the current behavior towards Y/N-chan didn’t bother him in the slightest. 

He minded. He minded a great deal, actually.

She was good. She was kind to others. She certainly didn’t deserve this kind of treatment. Frankly, no one ever deserved that kind of treatment no matter who they were. 

Nanami strolled into work bright and early one morning to find her hunched forward on her desk, completely passed out. He noted that there were papers that were scattered across the surface and that there was a pen still lodged in her hand. She must have spent the night here. 

He set his stuff down on his desk before turning to her and placing a hand on her shoulder to gently rock her awake. 

“Y/N-chan, you need to wake up,” he says softly. 

He goes to stand behind her chair and places his other hand on her forehead to help sit her up, hoping that the motion and change in position will help stir her awake. 

“Y/N-chan, Akiyama-buchou will be in shortly, you need to wake up so you don’t end up in trouble.”

There’s a solid minute that passes before Nanami hears a groggy: “Mmm… senpai?” 

He let out a chuckle before stepping back to sit at his desk. “Did you spend the night here last night?”  

“Mmhmm,” she yawned as she stretched out her arms well above her head and leaned up against her chair. “I had to finish up the final reports for the department quarterly review. They’re due at the end of this week.”

Nanami paused, then his eyes narrowed. “I thought that was Kakuta-san’s responsibility to take care of that,” he said, his voice a tad stern.

“Yeah, well… he asked me to do it.”

“He shouldn’t have.”

Y/N was silent for a moment before she started to organize the papers on her desk into a more orderly fashion. The next words come out small and downtrodden. “It’s not like I can say no to my superiors, Nanami-senpai.”

“Kakuta-san is not your superior, he’s your co-worker. He shouldn’t be passing off his assigned work tasks onto you. Matter of fact, none of these people in this office should be passing off their assigned tasks onto you.” He had a much more choice word to use for his colleagues but he bit his tongue. 

At this point, Nanami felt like he was scolding his own child rather than his junior.

You try telling them that, Y/N thought snidely to herself. She let his comments roll off her back. “Look, I’m almost finished with the report, senpai. It’s really not that big of a deal.” 

His gaze is hard. “You’re sure?” 

Y/N matches his demeanor, getting a little annoyed with his constant chastising. Her eyebrows slightly furrow as she sits up a tad taller, looking Nanami square in the eye. “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me. I can handle it,” Y/N snaps. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work. I’ve already wasted enough time here.”

He watches as she busies herself with the paperwork on her desk, a sour taste remaining in his mouth, making him purse his lips together into a tight line. Nanami briskly turns away, not wanting to add further dissension to their discourse. 

~

Things went from bad to worse.

On the days that she was supposed to have off, she would be called into the office to work grueling hours, usually from seven in the morning until midnight, leaving her with little to no free time. Interactions with her co-workers and her superiors become more and more hostile. The shift of blame became a near constant everytime that she was in office, the accusations becoming increased in severity, some of which would have Akiyama-buchou scream at her in front of the entire office staff which, at times, would reduce her to tears. 

The mental and emotional stress was starting to take a physical toll on Y/N. The bags underneath her eyes were becoming darker, she had no appetite to eat anything, thus making some of her clothes start to fit a little looser. Her hair was starting to slowly come out in clumps and sleepless nights were starting to become the norm.

The anxiety and fear was starting to eat her alive, and Y/N was exhausted.

Nanami was silently noticing the events unfolding before him, and found the actions of his colleagues to be reprehensible. He’s grown to care for Y/N-chan. More than he would like to admit, but somehow she’s managed to worm her way into his heart. 

He tried finding little ways to combat the workplace harassment that Y/N-chan was facing. Tiny things, nothing too grand or extravagant that would draw attention. 

When Y/N-chan found herself swamped with work (realistically speaking, the work of others that they, continuously, passed onto her) and unable to leave her desk, not even to take a lunch break, Nanami would stop by the vending machines, leaving extra snacks on her desk when she wasn’t paying attention to the world around her. The mornings that he would find her passed out cold on her desk from pulling an all-nighter at the office, he would visit the little coffee shop across the street and “accidentally” order two cups of coffee instead of one. Just like the vending machine snacks, he would leave the cup at the corner of Y/N-chan’s desk for her to wake up to. When she would ask him about it, noticing that they were both from the same place, he would always say the same thing to her: “They accidentally gave me two. Rather than waste the extra on me, I figured that you would need it a bit more than I do.” which was then quickly followed by a “no, you don’t need to pay me back”. The times that Y/N would find herself alone in the office during the lunch breaks that the staff would take, Nanami would stay behind at his desk beside hers and silently eat his lunch. The days that he noticed she hadn’t brought any food with her, he would offer part of his lunch. It was second nature at this point, but she would always refuse, saying that she wasn’t hungry.

Whenever Y/N felt her emotions get the better of her, she would hide in the supply closet and take a moment to try and recollect herself. As a grounding point, she would try to think that her family and friends (what little she had of them) love and care about her, and other times, she would think of the small acts of kindness that Nanami would show towards her. 

She would be forever grateful for him. Even if she wouldn’t verbally say it out loud to him. 

At some point, though, the tension reached a head, and Nanami couldn’t idly stand by anymore. 

 One afternoon, Nanami was leaving a meeting room with the other department leaders when he heard a loud cry ring out in the office, ripping him out of his reverie. He whips his head up to see Y/N barge out of the staff break room and rush past him, tears welling up in her eyes, and a large brown stain covered the front of her white blouse that she was wearing. Alarmed, he watches as she runs to the women's restroom, the door slamming behind her. 

What caught his attention next was the sound of laughter that came from the break room. A sinking feeling of dread sat in his chest, before the subtle burn of anger began to ignite in his heart. 

His eyes narrow as he saunters towards the breakroom, finding both Fumiko and Aiko standing there, giddy as school girls. They became deers in the headlights as soon as they saw Nanami. 

He noticed that Fumiko was holding an empty mug with coffee dribbling down the side of it.

“I saw Y/N-chan run out of here. She seemed upset,” he muses. “What happened?” 

The two women stare at him like gaping fish, neither one of them saying a word. 

A beat of silence passes before he speaks again, his eyes locked onto them. “Something clearly happened.” 

The sound of the coffee machine brewing in the corner of the room catches his attention. Nanami glances at Fumiko and Aiko from the corner of his eyes, his gaze disapproving, before walking over to the coffee machine. The smell of a freshly brewed pot assaults his senses as he approaches. He raises a hand and gently presses two fingers to the side of the pot. 

It’s hot. Scalding hot, actually. 

“Judging by the behavior of you two, I’m going to assume that you intentionally spilled hot coffee on Y/N-chan’s front,” Nanami muses, as if he were speaking to himself. He turns to face them, leaning up against the counter. “Am I wrong?”

Silence. 

Nanami knows that neither Aiko or Fumiko don’t have to say anything to explain themselves. 

He lets out a loud sigh and raises a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “That’s what I thought.” 

After finally getting the answers that he needed, Nanami pushes off the counter, wasting no time to grab the first-aid kit as he exits the breakroom, heading towards the women's restroom.

Y/N is sitting on the toilet, her blouse pulled open as she applies wet tissues of toilet paper to the large burn on her chest in order to find some relief from the pain. 

She’s stopped crying, but now the feelings of embarrassment and shame are starting to set in.  

Leaning forward to hold her head in her hands with her elbows resting on her knees, all of the emotions that Y/N has been holding in for the past several months begins to boil over and comes to the forefront of her mind. The mistreatment from her colleagues and her superiors, the sleepless nights, the constant overtime (overtime that she was not adequately paid for, by the way), the endless workloads, etc. was laid out in front of her. 

Y/N never considered herself to be a downtrodden person, but having since been in this job, it was as if every single day she woke up with dread filling her chest. She tried to be a good sport about it, by trying to give herself some grace and the people that she worked with the benefit of doubt, and tried to rationalize their behaviors towards her. However, it was difficult to ignore the persistent hostility and how quick she was to be sold down the river whenever things went horribly wrong.

A lump rose in the back of her throat and tears began to well up in her eyes again. Her mind was beginning to create a snowball effect of everything that has happened ever since she started at this job. Her face crumbled, and the tears spilled over. 

A knock at the door brings her out of her mental turmoil. “Y/N-chan?” 

Nanami. 

“I have some burn ointment for you. I know it’s not much… but I hope that it will help with the pain.” 

Y/N grabs some extra toilet paper to wipe away at her face, and throws away the wet toilet paper that was stuck to her chest, before buttoning her blouse back up. She stands up and looks into the mirror, making sure that she was… somewhat presentable to her senpai. 

She cracks open the door and pokes her head out to see Nanami standing there with several packets of burn ointment presented in an open palm. 

“Thank you,” Y/N murmurs, reaching out to take the packets from him. 

“I’ll talk to Akiyama-buchou to see if you can get the rest of the day off,” Nanami says, letting his hand fall back to his side. “You clearly need it.” 

She looks up at him in worry. “N-no! That’s not-!” 

“Y/N-chan. You’re injured. You’re overworked. You need rest. I assure you that the office will not burn to the ground because you’re not in. I promise.” There was a tone of finality to his words. It was clear that there was no room for argument with him as Nanami had clearly made up his mind. 

A passive look forms on Y/N’s features before she nods once and disappears back into the restroom. 

What follows next are tense interactions and conversations had with others around the office as Nanami forcibly returned work assignments to those that had pawned off their work to Y/N. Those that protested were quickly met with an icy glare that shut them up immediately. 

The conversation with Akiyama left Nanami in a rather foul mood than he already was.

He straight up laughed in Nanami’s face when he said that Y/N would be taking the rest of the day off. 

“You can’t be serious! Since when do you actually give a shit about that little brat?” he guffaws. He looks like he’s about to start crying from laughing as if he’s been told the funniest joke in his life. 

Nanami doesn’t falter. His gaze is as hard as stone as he stoically answers, “The same way in which you fail to do your due diligence as a member of upper level management to ensure that the work environment that you create isn’t a hostile one. You’ve got the vindictiveness of a fourteen year old child. You’re pathetic, really.” 

Akiyama’s smug look quickly fades as Nanami speaks his piece, his face turning into a shade of dark red from being flustered and embarassed. 

Nanami has held in his emotions for the entirety of his professional career, but now he could give a damn. The floodgates have opened and now he’s speaking his mind. 

“Now, listen here-”

“Frankly, I don’t care what you have to say. You’re the most incompetent man that I’ve ever encountered and I’ve seen a fair amount of them. The immaturity, the lack of consideration on both a professional and personal level, the harassment that you feed your employees if they don’t meet your standards by even the most minute level. It’s despicable.”

“Nanami Kento-!”

“You’ve lost my respect… though, I never really had that much respect to give you in the first place.” 

The weight lifts off of his shoulders as he finishes speaking, though, the responsibility of getting you home safe and sound is still on his mind. 

“I’ll be escorting her home. Don’t expect to see me the rest of the day.”

“Nanami-!”

He briskly turns away before Akiyama can say anything to him, leaving the office and letting the door slam behind him. He stops by Y/N’s desk, gathering all of her belongings and putting them in her bag that hung on the back of her chair. 

“Y/N-chan? Are you ready?” Nanami asks, standing outside of the women's restroom.

“Um… I don’t think I’m really…presentable to leave the restroom…”

She poked her head out again, Nanami catching some glimpses of her white blouse with the large coffee stain on it. She looks a bit more put together, the puffiness in her face has somewhat dwindled.

Nanami pauses, before setting down both his and her items and shrugging out of his suit jacket. He gently nudges the door open a bit wider with his foot so they’re both face to face with each other as he tenderly places his suit jacket over Y/N’s shoulders, giving her a bit more coverage and allowing her to pull the sides of the jacket over the gigantic brown stain. 

A blush began to creep over her cheeks as she dropped her gaze from his, suddenly feeling bashful. 

“Thank you.” 

The two of them left, feeling all the eyes of the office workers on them as they departed. Akiyama came barging out of his office, screaming at the top of his lungs at their backsides.

Y/N startles, going to look over her shoulder at him, but Nanami stops her by putting an arm around her shoulders, forcing her to look forward. 

For the remainder of their trip back to Y/N’s apartment, he doesn’t remove his arm from around her shoulders. Nanami doesn’t know why he didn’t want to remove it from around her. Not a word is spoken between them… but for the both of them, it wasn’t uncomfortable. 

They were given strange looks by onlookers on the streets of Tokyo, but the pair were somewhat comfortable in their own little world. 

“You didn’t… have to do this, you know?” Y/N shyly says, risking a glance at him from the corner of her eyes. They’re now on the train, moving from the district of Shinjuku to Koto, where Y/N’s apartment was located. 

“I know I didn’t,” Nanami responds, looking down to meet her gaze. “I wanted to.” 

After some time, they eventually reach their desired train station in Koto. From there on, it’s a twenty minute walk to the apartment. 

“Will you come inside? I feel like I should make you a cup of tea or something…” Y/N says, shrugging off Nanami’s suit jacket to give back to him as they stand in front of the entrance to Y/N’s apartment.  

“That’s not necessary, Y/N-chan-”

“Please? It’s the least I can do. Especially after everything that you’ve done for me.” 

He ponders on it, before giving her a single nod with a small smile starting to grace his features. “If you insist, I suppose it wouldn’t do any harm. A cup of tea made by you sounds lovely.” 

She gives him a wide smile as she fishes into her purse to find her keys to let them into the apartment.

It was tiny, but that was to be expected. Slightly messy with various items strewn around the den and the kitchen areas, but nothing too egregious that Nanami couldn’t overlook. 

“I’ll put the kettle on if you’d like to have a seat. I’ll just be a moment,” Y/N says as she shuffles out of her high heels in the entryway. Trying to be sly, she immediately picks up the discarded clothes so that Nanami wouldn’t notice as she retreats into her bedroom so she can change out of the stained blouse and into a clean shirt. In a quick glance in a mirror that she has in her bedroom, she sees a rather large, angry red patch mark her chest where the coffee branded her. 

A flash of humiliation strikes through her core, but Y/N does her best to not dwell on it. Even if her chest is still throbbing from her injury, regardless of the ointment that Nanami was so kind to give to her. 

Nanami silently makes his way to the den and sits at the kotatsu table in the center of the room, letting the futon cover his lap, waiting patiently for Y/N to exit her room. 

She comes out of the bedroom, changed into a fresh set of casual clothes, and wastes no time getting started on the tea that she promised Nanami.

“I hope you don’t mind my appearance,” Y/N calls out, glancing over her shoulder to look at him. “I don’t think I could stand to be in that stained blouse another minute.” 

“Please don’t think I’m offended, Y/N-chan, I’m a guest in your home. I’d rather you be comfortable.”

Y/N gives him a toothy smile as she fills up the electric kettle with water. 

“I have sencha tea. Is that okay with you?” 

A singular nod. “Yes, that sounds lovely.”

To Y/N, it felt strange to have her senpai in her home, sitting at her little kotatsu table that he seemed rather too large for. She stole a look at him while he wasn’t paying attention and fought back a giggle, thinking of him as a bull in a china shop in her microscopic apartment. 

From the corner of his eye, Nanami noticed a pile of vinyl records leaned up against a record player. 

“Do you listen to vinyl, Y/N-chan?”

“I do, actually. I enjoy collecting records whenever I can.”

“Any particular genre?” 

“Hmm…my father was always big on music from the 50’s and the 60’s. I remember listening to a lot of cassette tapes and vinyls from those eras. He said that there was a certain romantic aspect that just couldn’t be replicated in today’s music.” Y/N comes into the den with two steaming mugs of tea, setting them both down onto the kotatsu. “However, he could be just a bit biased because that’s the music that he grew up on.” 

Nanami chuckles. “Just a bit. Thank you for the tea and hospitality, by the way, Y/N-chan. You didn’t have to do this.” He gently grips the handle of the mug and brings it to his lips, taking in a small sip. 

Y/N softly sighs, letting her shoulders slump the tiniest degree. “I felt like I needed to.” 

“Y/N-chan-”

“Senpai, I just…” She starts to wring her hands in front of her, suddenly nervous. “I just wanted to show my appreciation for all that you did for me when I was struggling. The snacks and coffees that you would leave at my desk, offering to share part of your lunch with me… All sorts of things that you went out of your way to do for me, when you really had nothing to gain from it. I don’t know why you did it to begin with, but… I’ll be forever thankful to you that you did.” 

Seeing her be so open and candid with everything that had happened within the past several months, made Nanami reminisce on his old secondary school classmate, Yu Haibara. Perhaps that’s why he had such a fondness for Y/N. She shared a lot of characteristics that Haibara had.

Happiness. Genuine kindness. A fondness for life and living. 

Maybe that’s why Nanami was doing his damndest to try and help her.

Protect her. 

In a way that he wasn’t able to do for Haibara. 

Y/N notices Nanami’s silent reverie. “What are you thinking about?” 

“Hm? Oh… nothing in particular.”

Unconvinced, she prods a tiny bit more. “Are you sure? You look like you’re deep in thought about something.”

Nanami quickly changes the subject. “How’s your burn doing? It’s not hurting you too much, is it?”

At the mention of her injury, a flare of a dull ache makes its way to the front of her mind. She brings a hand up to her chest to rub at it. 

“It’s manageable.” 

He gives her a knowing look before getting up from the kotatsu and goes into the kitchen, grabbing a handful of paper towels and running them under cold water.

“Here, this should help.” He offers her the wet paper towels, but she simply stares at his hand. 

Y/N glances at his hand and back up to his face, before she reaches out to grip his wrist and uses his arm as leverage to pull herself up into a standing position. She doesn’t let go of his wrist.

“I hope… that you’ll allow me to thank you. Properly,” Y/N says, peering up at Nanami, a certain… emotion displayed that he wasn’t able to place his finger on. She takes a step closer to him, decreasing the distance between them. 

All Nanami could focus on in that moment was the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears and the sudden warmth that flushed into his cheeks, all of which led to one question in his mind: Where was she going with this?

“Seeing as how we’re being personal and open with one another, would it be silly of me to admit I sort of… developed a little bit of a crush on you?” Her eyes drift down from his for a moment, maybe due to embarrassment, before raising her eyes to meet his, a slight blush starting to color her cheeks. “I didn’t want to say anything at first, especially considering how you always preached about how you always separated your personal life with your professional life… but now feels like a good time to come clean.” She reaches up and gently places a hand on his cheek, feeling the warmth that his skin offered as her thumb tenderly stroked his cheekbone. 

Nanami’s heart feels like it's in his throat, unintentionally tensing up at the feeling of her hand on the side of his face. “Y/N-chan.” 

Why was he so nervous all of a sudden? This wasn’t the first time that a woman tried to be physically close to him, and all those other times he was able to gently reject their advances with ease. 

Why was Y/N suddenly the exception to this rule? 

“Are you… uncomfortable with this?” she asks, unable to gauge his current state of mind due to his stunned silence. The last thing that Y/N wanted to do was encroach on his boundaries. 

Nanami remains silent, his eyes still locked onto her face. 

Y/N takes that as a sign to halt her advances. She begins to pull away.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things awkward-” she begins to apologize, but finds herself cut short by the feeling of another mouth covering hers. 

Nanami, finally snapping out of his trance, allows himself to feel something for the first time in a long time. Gripping both sides of her face, he bends down and pulls her into a rather heated kiss, their teeth accidentally clacking against each other from the force of impact. 

Y/N, startled at first, melts into the kiss, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck to try and pull him closer to her, his hands sliding from her cheeks to thread his fingers through her hair, allowing him just a bit more grip on her. Y/N’s chest aches at her burn site at the friction of Nanami’s body against hers, but she could care less about it in the current moment. 

With her lungs screaming for oxygen, she pulls away, gasping. “Nanami-senpai!”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” he gasps out, trying to catch his breath. 

“Don’t be.”

They remain still for a moment, just taking in their presence. 

Nanami leans down to press his forehead against Y/N’s, closing his eyes. “It’s no secret that I’ve come to care for you, Y/N-chan. Perhaps, a bit more than I initially let on.” 

A breathy chuckle escapes from her. “Is that so?” 

He gives a small nod, a gentle smile forming on his face. “Yes.”

One of his hands, still entangled in her hair, falls from her head to softly grip the side of her neck, his thumb gently rubbing alongside her jawline. 

“I should have asked you this properly, before I got physical with you,” Nanami whispers. “Is this something that you would want to pursue, Y/N-chan? A relationship… with me?” 

A slight pause as Y/N digests his proposal, before she smiles and nods. “If you’ll have me.”

“I’ll always have you, so long as you put up with me and my broody behavior.” 

“You’re not broody.” She reaches up to softly push back several strands of hair that had fallen in his eyes. “Matter of fact, I find you to be very kind and considerate. I have all of the ‘extra coffees’ and vending machine snacks to thank you for.”

Y/N grabs at the hand that’s on the side of her neck and guides it down so that Nanami is now cupping one of her breasts through her shirt. She glances up at him, sucking in her bottom lip between her teeth, waiting to see what his next move will be. 

Filled with new found lust, and a rush of heat down to his groin, Nanami closes the gap between the two of them, pressing his lips to hers once more, allowing his tongue to slip past his lips and into her mouth, massaging hers with his own. There’s urgency to their motions now, their exhaled breaths coming out much harsher and heavier than before. 

Nanami’s hands slip underneath her shirt to fully cup her breasts, allowing him to roll her nipples between his fingers and thumbs. 

Y/N lets out a little squeak at the sensation, but takes it all in stride. She grabs at his clothes, attempting to undo his tie and the buttons to his shirt, but struggles at the Windsor knot on his tie, unsure how to loosen it. Nanami, lost in the moment, comes to at the sensation of her prying hands and quickly undoes his two piece suit at a much faster rate than Y/N ever could, stripping down to be completely bare and vulnerable in front of her. 

Y/N truly began to appreciate what a fine specimen Nanami was. He’s toned. He’s muscular. He’s built like a Greek god, if she was being totally honest with herself. 

She looks down at Nanami’s cock, sucking in a sharp breath when she notices how girthy it was. It wasn’t fully erect, but Y/N remembers some of her old friends from university going on about how some men are “growers”. Their words, not hers. 

“Can…can I?” she stutters out, her eyes locked onto his growing erection. 

“God, yes, please.”

She sinks to her knees in front of him, coming face to face with his cock. The sight alone makes Nanami’s respiration become labored. 

With gentle hands, she reaches out and grasps him at the base and points him upright. Her eyes glance up at him, trying to gauge his reaction, before pressing a kiss to the head. One hand goes to stroke the length as the other falls to massage his testicles. With a deep breath, and a whole lot of fraudulent courage, she sinks her head onto him, trying to take him in as much as she could without activating her gag reflex. 

“Y/N-chan…” Nanami gasps out, the warm, wet sensation of her mouth sending shockwaves through his core. His hands twitch by his sides, wanting to bury his fingers into the crown of her head, but he restrains himself, not wanting to rush her into things. 

Slowly, Y/N finds her rhythm. She begins to bob her head up and down his length with added vigor, her hand stroking the parts that her mouth cannot reach. Saliva begins to dribble from her mouth and down her chin, the more that she bobs her head. The sound of squelching fills the room as Y/N continues her assault on Nanami. 

Nanami’s head had fallen back and his eyes were closed in ecstasy. “Fuck, Y/N-chan,” he gasps out, foregoing his original plan of self control and reaching one of his hands to grasp at the back of Y/N’s head, desperate to try and hold onto something. He begins to move his hips, just enough to thrust forward to meet her mouth. Through heavy-lidded eyes, he tilts head forward to look down at Y/N to see her eyes locked onto his face as she persisted with her movements. She pulls off his length, but with the tip still in her mouth, she wraps her tongue around the tip and simply sucks. 

Nanami’s vision goes white for just a moment, and he swears that he had died and gone to heaven in that second. 

Y/N pops off his member, strings of saliva attaching from her mouth to Nanami, gasping for breath. He stands fully erect now, his cock now slapping against his abdomen the moment that Y/N lets go of him, and the tip begins to ooze with pre-ejaculate. She offers him a cheeky smile, meeting his wanton gaze with playfulness. “Is this to your liking, Nanami Kento?”

She leans forward and suckles one of his testicles into her mouth, her eyes never leaving his face. Something inside Nanami snaps, and he can no longer hold himself back anymore. 

“You little minx,” he rasps out, reaching down to push her shoulders back, putting some distance between the two of them. He pulls her up into a standing position, before reaching down to grasp at her hips. He pulls her into a feverish kiss, his lips entangling with hers. He lifts her up into the air, allowing her to wrap her legs around his waist, giving him the freedom to blindly make his way from her living room to her bedroom. He gently sets her down on the edge of the bed, pulling away from the kiss. 

“Can I take your clothes off, Y/N-chan?” His hands grab at the hem of her shirt, waiting for her approval to do so. 

She nods, lifting her arms up over her head, making it easier for Nanami to pull her shirt off, leaving her bare-chested in front of him. The cool air hits her skin, making goosebumps start to rise throughout her trunk. 

Nanami takes in everything that she has to offer. Every curve, contour, stretch mark, including the large burn on her chest. A flash of anger flares up in his chest at the sight of it, but he does his best to extinguish it. He doesn’t want to sour the mood with a foul mood. 

Feeling his eyes on her, Y/N can’t help but become self conscious in his observant gaze as she instinctively raises her arms to cover her chest to make herself as small as possible. Nanami, however, notices her attempts to cover herself up and catches both of her wrists in his large hands, stopping her from doing so.

“Stop. You don’t need to hide yourself in front of me,” he says, nearly chastising her as he forces her arms back down to their sides. “I want to see all of you, as you have seen all of me.” He sinks to his knees in front of her and leans forward to press gentle kisses to her chest, making sure to linger his lips on her injury. “Will you allow me to make you feel good, Y/N-chan?” he asks, peering up at her with tender eyes. 

Y/N gives him a soft smile, threading her fingers through his hair. “I’d like that.” 

He returns the smile, before he presses his lips to hers once again, only this time it’s not as rushed and frenzied as before. It’s slow and reposeful, as if they don’t want to rush the moment to its end. 

Nanami, still on his knees, reaches up with both hands to cup her jaw, his thumbs smoothing at her cheek bones as he continues to kiss her. He begins to gently guide her back further onto the mattress, allowing her to lay down and for him more room to explore her body. He lets his hands trail from the sides of her face down to the hems of both the bottoms that she was wearing and her underwear. He pulls away just a fraction of an inch from her lips, looking into her eyes as he gets more of a hold on the clothing, silently asking her permission to remove the rest of her clothes.

Y/N instinctually lifts her hips up, giving Nanami the freedom to remove the rest of the barriers, leaving her totally bare in front of him. 

He sits between her legs, his eyes narrowing down on her center, before glancing back up to meet her gaze. “May I taste you?”

She nods, watching with heavy anticipation as he changes position so that he’s now flat on his stomach, now faced with the most intimate part of Y/N. It wasn’t an understatement to say that she was incredibly nervous. It had been some time since she last had sex with another man. 

Noting her silence and her tense position, Nanami asks her, “Are you alright?” 

His question pulls her out of her silent dilemma, realizing that he was locked in on her face.

She nods, not trusting her voice right now.

His eyes are quizzical, but he doesn’t push it any further. “You’ll tell me if you’re uncomfortable, yeah?” 

She nods again.

“I think I’m gonna need a little more confirmation than that, Y/N-chan. I need you to actually say something.” 

A flush of heat makes its way towards her core at his command, arousing her a bit more than she would like to admit. “I… yes. I promise I’ll say something,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. 

He gives her a smirk. “Good girl.”

He hooks his arms around her thighs, pulling her closer to him, his face now just mere nanometers away from her center. Maintaining eye contact with her, he flattens his tongue on her clit, massaging it with smooth, languid strokes. 

Y/N lets out a gasp at the sensation of his tongue on her, her head falling backwards on the pillow, letting the pleasure build from her core and flow throughout her body. 

Nanami starts out slow, letting her adjust to the stimulation before he begins to flick her clit at a rapid pace, trying to build on her satisfaction. His eyes never leave her face as he continues with his movements. Reaching further around, he uses his hands to spread her lips wide open and sucks her clit between his lips.

“My god, Nana-mi-senpai,” she moans, her toes curling at the feeling of him sucking her in. Unable to make sense of what to do with herself, her hands fly to her chest grabbing at her breasts. She begins to pant now, the pleasure beginning to build upon itself as Nanami’s tongue continues to ravish her. The waves are crashing over each other now, and the familiar coil within Y/N’s abdomen starts to tighten, alerting her of her impending orgasm. 

Switching tactics, Nanami diverts his attention to her opening. Replacing his tongue with this thumb on her clit, he gently prods his tongue through, thrusting it in and out.

“Nanami!” Y/N cries out, jerking at the sensation. She squirms and twists at his ministrations, unable to maintain her composure anymore, before he uses his other hand to flatten it on her abdomen, in an effort to hold her still. She glances down at him to see his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his fingers splayed out on her abdomen, a warning look in his eyes, as if to say don’t move. He brings his mouth back up to her clit and presses a single kiss to the sensitive nub before, for lack of a better word, devouring her. He engulfs her entire clit into his mouth before suckling on it and his tongue furiously stroking her, trying to fully push her over the edge and bring her to orgasm. 

The coil within Y/N tightens further and further the more Nanami’s mouth works her, the pressure within herself mounting to an almost uncomfortable point. Her hands fly down to grab at Nanami’s hair, desperately trying to anchor herself to something, but she’s quickly getting swept up into shockwaves of ecstasy. 

With one final suck, the coil snaps and Y/N is rendered completely helpless as her orgasm comes crashing over her in waves. She lets out a loud cry as her abdomen clamps down on itself, her body shaking with each pulse of her core, her hands becoming a vice grip in his hair. 

Nanami’s moans at the feeling of her hands in his hair, releasing her core free from the confines of his lips, panting out several breaths before going in with his tongue again to lap at her release. Y/N jerks at the sensation, slowly becoming overwhelmed with the constant stimulation.

As Y/N comes down from her high, she looks down to Nanami giving him a weak, breathy chuckle, gently untangling her fingers from his hair. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

He leans away from her, flashing her a relaxed grin. He kisses his way up her abdomen, gently pressing his lips to her skin as he makes his way to her face. Once he reaches his intended destination, he captures her lips into an all-consuming kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist in an effort to pull her as close to him as humanly possible. In response, her legs go to encircle his hips, pressing her lubricated center to his leaking cock. 

Nanami lets out a hiss at the contact, a flash of pleasure striking through him, making him almost recoil from Y/N’s body. 

She looks at him, concerned. “Are you alright?” 

“Yes, I just… I’m a little more sensitive than I initially thought,” he reassures, leaning up to press a kiss to her forehead. 

“Well… I’m yours for the taking.” She spreads her legs open, sending the message to him wide and clear. 

A sinking realization dawns on Nanami as he looks down at his bare self, now just coming to terms that he’s missing a very key component to this whole encounter. “Y/N-chan, I… I’m sorry, but I don’t have any protection on me,” he whispers. “I don’t want to end this moment with you… but I don’t want to risk you getting pregnant for my own selfish desires, either.” 

Y/N props herself up on her elbows, leaning over to the nightstand beside the bed and opens the drawer, pulling out several packages of condoms, making Nanami do a double-take. “An old friend of mine from university gave them to me as a gag gift for my birthday before I started to work at the office. I really haven’t had the opportunity to use them… well, up until now at least,” she explains, a bit of a sheepish grin gracing her face as she hands them to Nanami.

“Some friends you have,” he says, ripping a package open, grabbing the plastic wrapping before placing it on his tip and rolling it down his length. He doesn’t question it, he’s just thankful that he doesn’t have to stop. He positions himself between Y/N’s legs, sitting back on his haunches, as he grabs hold of his length and guides his tip to her slit. “Are you ready for me, Y/N-chan?” 

She inhales a deep breath. “Yes. I’m ready, Nanami-senpai.”

He lets out a chuckle. “Kento.” 

“Hmm?” She looks at him, confused.

“I think we’re way beyond the point of just acknowledging each other by our surnames, Y/N-chan. All things considered.” 

“I suppose you’re right… Kento.” 

With one hand, grabs hold of her hip, while with the other, he slowly guides his tip into her entrance. When he has the assurance that it won’t slip out, he pauses his motions. “You’ll tell me if it gets to be too much, yeah?” 

She nods. “Yes.” 

“Good.” 

He softly guides his hips forward, pushing his cock past her opening and letting him be enveloped by her warm, wet walls. He almost has to stop himself from getting ahead of himself and snapping his hips in. A thin layer of perspiration begins to form on his forehead as he concentrates all of his will power into not burying her into the mattress and pounding into her in that moment. Nanami looks to her, trying to gauge where she was at in terms of comfort after fully sheathing himself in her. 

Y/N was in a bit of pain, to say the least. With the stretch of Nanami as he penetrated into her, came the uncomfortable burning sensation of almost being split open. She lets out a hiss and closes her eyes, immediately tensing herself up. Nanami was not small, by any means necessary. Matter of fact, he was much more well endowed than any of Y/N’s previous partners or one night stands, leaving her uncomfortably full with areas that Nanami was touching that had initially been left undisturbed. She could feel the tip of his member twitch inside of her, causing her to unintentionally clamp down on him. 

Nanami stutters out a groan, nearly throwing his head back in pure, unadulterated pleasure, but he forces himself to hold steadfast. He knows that she needs to adjust to him, and he would not move until she gave him the say so. 

The seconds that pass feel like years to Nanami as he remains stagnant. His selfish desire is eating away at his restraint, but he deliberately ignores it, instead focusing all of his attention on her. Gritting his teeth, he gently squeezes her hips, trying to draw her back into the current moment. “Are you alright, Y/N-chan?” 

With her eyes still closed, she nods her head. She reaches down and grabs at one of his hands on her hips, relocating it to her center, with his thumb just barely brushing up against her clit. He slowly begins to swipe at it, hopeful that the stimulation of it would overcome the pain. She repositions herself now, letting her legs interlock around his hips with her ankles linking together, giving him the nonverbal permission that he so desperately required.

Slowly, with careful precision, he begins to roll his hips forward, each time burying himself to the hilt of her. Her warm, velvet walls encasing his cock made his vision nearly go white every time that she clamped around him, whether if it was intentional or not.

Y/N goes slack jawed, the motions painful at first, but the more he pistoned his hips against her, the constant pulsing of his cock within her, the warmth that he offered her, and the haphazard stroking of her clit with his fingers, the more she began to enjoy herself. Her arousal slicked her walls, further lubricating her, loosening her up as Nanami continued with his assault on her. Some of it began to seep out and dampen his pelvis where it met hers, with strings of her connecting them to each other in more ways than one. 

He could have cried right there, if he wanted to.

Nanami’s hips pick up the pace, now slapping against her, filling the room with body parts colliding with one another and uneven breathing and soft moans, and the aroma of sex beginning to flood the enclosed space. Wisps of his hair fall into his eyes, somewhat blocking his view on her as she falls apart underneath him, slowly becoming a pile of jelly and limbs. 

“Y/N-chan, Y/N-channn…” he cries out, his hips now slamming against her, his hands gripping her in a vice grip as he chases the high that he so desperately craved. The motions cause the bed frame to shake and rattle with the headboard starting to bash against the wall. His eyes are locked on her, watching her as she is completely lost to the pleasure that he’s feeding her. Her eyes are closed with her eyebrows furrowed as if she were concentrating on something, her body jerking with each thrust that he plows into her, her breasts even more so, and her hands are white-knuckling the bedsheets. 

It’s a sight truly to behold in his eyes. 

The tension in his abdomen is building to an uncomfortable tightness, the coil close to snapping as his orgasm nears. His hips start to buck into now, the pace almost inhuman. 

“Y/N-chan…I’m close. I’m so close, I can’t…ha…I can’t hold back anymore…Y/N-chan!” 

“On me…I want it on me…” she moans out, looking at him through heavy-lidded eyes in a lustful gaze. The corner of her mouth turned upward into a small smirk. 

His brain nearly short-circuits at the thought of his seed painting her abdomen and chest and face. 

It takes everything within Nanami to stop what he’s doing and pull his cock out of her. He rips the condom off, replacing it with his hand as he starts to vigorously stroke his hand up and down his length, a piss poor replacement for her warmth. He leans over her, putting his free hand by her head, locking eyes with her as he continued to masturbate, the sound of her wetness filling the room as he rapidly stroked up and down his length. She, in a heated second, wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him down to press her lips to his, eager to feel his mouth on her again. He doesn’t stop his movements, as he slips his tongue into her mouth, eager to explore her mouth once again. 

The coil in his abdomen snaps, causing warmth to flood through him in waves throughout his entire core, with his seed finally spurting out of his red, angry tip. He has to stop, pulling away for just a moment as a gasping moan slips out of his mouth.

Y/N startles at the feeling of his heated droplets as they spray onto her abdomen and chest, some of them going as far onto her neck, but quickly relishes in the feeling of it. The majority of it pooling onto her abdomen as it flows from his tip. Nanami stutters out a groan as he slows his hand down, sitting back on his haunches, looking at the canvas that he painted on Y/N’s body, his slowly deflating cock twitching at the sight of it. 

Feeling mischievous, Y/N props herself up on her elbows as scoops up a glob of his seed off of her body. In her post-coital gaze, she maintains eye contact with him as she sticks her tongue out of her mouth, bringing the dollop of seed up to her mouth and places it onto her tongue. Nanami’s eyes nearly dilate to the size of quarters as she pulls her tongue back into her mouth, as this may be one of the most erotic things he’s ever encountered in all of his years. 

Y/N lets out a squeak as Nanami grabs hold of her hips and roughly pulls her down the mattress, fully placing her core against his length.

“If I remember correctly, I don’t think you came around me as we fucked, did you Y/N-chan?” 

Stunned at the sudden motion, all Y/N can really say is: “I, it’s fine Kento, I-”

“Bullshit.” 

“You made me come with your mouth, it’s fine-”

He shoots her a glare. “Let me do this for you. I want to make sure you feel good.”

He reaches up past her to grab a pillow at the head of the bed. “Lift your hips up for me,” he instructs. She follows his command wordlessly and he stuffs the pillow underneath her, placing her pelvis at a bit of an upward angle.

He leans forward over her, placing his hands on either side of her, and places his cock straight onto her clit, and begins to thrust upward, using the external stimulation of his member to rub on her, trying to get her to orgasm once more for him. 

Y/N lets out a soft moan at the feeling of him on her, the filthy sound of her slickness filling the room as Nanami thrusts up on her. She grabs onto her breasts and squeezes them against her chest, desperately trying to ground herself in the moment, but with Nanami’s relentless assault, she finds herself drifting further and further away into the pleasure of it all. 

“I want you to come for me, Y/N-chan,” he growls out, his eyes animalistic and unflinching. “I want you to come undone on my cock. I want you. In every sense. In every way.”

Y/N, once again rendered to a helpless pile of mush, finds herself unable to respond. The feeling of Nanami’s cock on her clit begins to tighten her abdomen once again, causing white hot sensations to build within her. Her toes curl, she grasps onto Nanami’s forearms with her nails digging into his skin. He lets out a hiss, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t dare. 

“Come for me, darling. I want you to come for me. Can you do that for me? Be my good girl and come for me?” 

His words send her into overdrive with flushes of heat making their way directly to her core, more slickness slowly oozing out of her and dampening Nanami’s cock the more he moved against her. He can feel himself hardening again, but he couldn’t care less. 

The more the heat and tension built within Y/N, the more that she squirmed and thrashed into the mattress. All of it mounting up to the point that Nanami was desperately trying to get her towards. He maintained his pace, but he leaned down onto her, smearing his seed on his chest, his lips right at her ear now. “You’re almost there, aren’t you?”

“Kento, I… Oh my fucking… Christ!” Y/N cries out, wrapping both her arms and legs around Nanami’s trunk. “Please! Please, god! I can’t take it anymore!” 

He teasingly licks the outer shell of her ear. “No one’s stopping you, Y/N-chan. Come for me.” 

As if her body were waiting for verbal permission from him, even though he had given it to her several times before, her abdomen collapses on itself, making her vision go white and her ears ring. She loudly cries out, her body jerking with each pulse of her orgasm. He can feel it on his length, and he swears he could have orgasmed once again just as he was. 

He pulls away from her ear and looks at her blissed out face, her eyes closed as she tries to regain control of her breathing. He reaches up and gently cups the side of her face, tenderly brushing the sweat-dampened strands of hairs from her face behind her ears. “Are you okay?” he quietly asks. 

She nods, her eyes still closed. 

“Look at me, Y/N-chan.” 

She tiredly opens her eyes, looking at him blearily. 

He offers a warm smile, before pressing a kiss to the center of her forehead before kissing his way down to her mouth, carefully tender pecks to where he could place his lips. He leans his forehead down, resting it upon hers. “I want you to stay home from work tomorrow.”

She looks at him in confusion, her eyebrows furrowing. “What? Why?”

“There are some things that I need to take care of in the office. I would rather you not be there to witness them. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you, Y/N-chan.” His eyes are unfaltering, his tone absolute. There was no room for argument with him.

She hesitates, trying to digest what he’s telling her, a sinking feeling of unease starting to fill her abdomen. She trusts him, though. 

And against her better judgment, she nods, a frown forming on her face. 

“Will I see you later then, after work?” she asks, almost timidly. 

He leans down and presses another kiss to her lips. “I’ll do my best to see you, that is, if Akiyama doesn’t have my head on a silver platter,” he jokes, trying to lighten the mood. 

There were people that still needed to be dealt with. 

~

He left her apartment early in the morning, while Y/N was dead asleep to the world. A sense of longing fills him as he looks upon her sleeping form, not wanting to leave her only for her to wake up alone, however, there was urgent business that needed attending to. 

On the elevator ride to the floor where the office was located, his briefcase weighed a bit heavier than it normally did. As soon as he stepped into the common area where all of the other employees were, the majority of them did double-takes at him, all their gazes locked on him as he slowly stalked his way to Akiyama’s office. He didn’t bother to knock on the door or wait for any notion that it was okay for him to enter into the enclosed space, he simply barged in, catching Akiyama off guard as he sat at his desk, tapping away at his computer.

“Nanami-san!” He jumps, startled at the sudden intrusion, before a rather sour look crosses over his face as the memories of the day prior begin to flash through his mind. He regains control of himself, and puts on a rather tight expression on his face. “Have a seat. We need to have a discussion about your petulant behavior yesterday.” 

“I don’t think I will. I’ll remain standing for the rest of this conversation,” Nanami cooly responds. He knows that it’s not going to last long.

“Fine. Stand for all I care.” 

Akiyama then goes on a tirade about how Nanami’s behavior yesterday was inexcusable, how it’s totally unprofessional for him to speak to his superior in the manner that he did, and how he has grounds to fire Nanami and Y/N for abandoning their work duties with unexcused work absences, and so on, so forth. 

The more Akiyama ranted, the more Nanami’s hearing started to drown out due to a loud whistling sound in his ears. Red, hot anger was flooding in his chest, making both his heart rate and respiration rate increase in rhythm. 

Though Akiyama can’t see it, the blue glow of cursed energy started to fully envelope Nanami’s body the more that his anger grew. He wasn’t on overtime, but his emotions were getting the better of him, not allowing him to think clearly and making him tap into his excess cursed energy that he stored within himself. 

Akiyama, clearly not paying attention, continues on, now going on about something that Nanami can’t hear due to the whistling in his ears. His eyes analytically looked at Akiyama’s face, the invisible ratio line starting to form on his center, beginning from the base of his jaw to the tip of his receding widow’s peak. The increment markings began to form, and the seventh ratio line formed at his glabella, the point in between his eyebrows and just above his nasal bone. 

Nanami sets his briefcase down on one of the chairs. 

Akiyama can’t make it to another point as Nanami’s fist connects to the glabella and smashes his face and skull inward. 

The impact of the blow is fatal. 

Incident Log # 207

Multiple casualties were reported on the seventh floor of the Fujimoto Office Complex in the ward of Shinjuku, in the prefecture of Tokyo. Thirty two bodies were accounted for out of thirty four employees. Seventeen men, and fifteen women. The nature of injuries closely correlate to that of a sorcerer instead of a cursed entity. Residuals of cursed energy left behind strongly indicate that of former Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College student and graduate Nanami Kento. Nanami Kento is an employee at the Fujimoto office and has been missing since the attack occurred. The only other survivor is Y/L Y/N, as she had not been reported to be at the location when the incident transpired. 

Special Grade Sorcerer Gojo Satoru is assigned to the case.

The natures and causes of death are reported as followed: 

Akiyama Hinata, aged fifty seven, nature of injuries: concave trauma to the frontal lobe of cranium. Cause of death: blunt force trauma to the head.

Fumiko Asami, aged thirty one, nature of injuries: body sliced in half at the anterior inferior iliac spine of pelvis, causing bilateral femoral arteries to be cut open and massive blood loss to occur. Cause of death: blood loss and hypovolemic shock.

Aiko Marina, aged thirty, nature of injuries…

Y/N can’t even stomach her way through the rest of the report and she throws it onto the table in front of her. She’s sitting in an interrogation room with a silver haired man that sports a blindfold over his eyes. He’s introduced himself as Gojo Satoru, the main investigator on this case and she’s been presented with pictures of the crime scene and surveillance footage of the office as the attack went down. She watched as Nanami, for lack of a better word, butchered the entire office as he wielded a giant blunt knife that was wrapped in a white cloth with black spots all over it that was secretly concealed within his briefcase that he brought in that morning. 

She wants to vomit. 

“Is there anything else that you might be able to tell me involving this incident?” Gojo pries, as he leans back into the chair, placing his feet on the edge of the table. “It was reported that Nanami Kento did have a bit of a soft spot for you leading up to the attack. Is there any chance that he might have mentioned something to you about it?”

Y/N shakes her head, her eyes locked onto two pictures of Nanami that lay on the table. One of him when he was a student, with his long, sandy blonde hair that swooped over both of his eyes to one side, and the other looking as if it had been taken yesterday, with his hair in a professional side part, dressed in his regular two piece attire. “He didn’t mention anything like this. To be frank, I didn’t even know that he contained such power within himself.” Which, to be fair, wasn’t a total lie. Y/N didn’ know that he was a jujutsu sorcerer to begin with. “He was very big on keeping his personal life separate from his professional life.” 

She doesn’t dare tell them of the intimate moments that she shared with him the night before. She doesn’t tell them of the note that Nanami left her in her apartment that morning that sits in the back pocket of her pants. To her, in that moment, it feels as if it weighs over a thousand pounds.

It’s the last thing that she has of Nanami. She won’t give it up. Not now, not ever. 

Gojo sighs, before taking his feet off the edge of the table, letting his chair lean forward back into its normal position. He digs into one of his pockets and offers her a contact card. “If you remember anything at all, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me. I’d be more than happy to meet you in a different place than this dreary old place.” 

He tries to make her laugh, but it’s futile. 

“Am I free to leave?” 

He nods. “You were never imprisoned here to begin with.” 

She gets up, does a 45 degree bow at the waist, and quickly takes her leave, eager to be off the campus of the Jujutsu Technical College campus. There’s a sense of unease that fills her the more time that she spends there. 

On the train ride back to her apartment, she pulls the note out of her pocket and reads it through, like it’s the first time. His handwriting is scribbled onto the paper, his characters completely lacking the neat and orderly fashion that she’s so accustomed to seeing from him. 

Dearest Y/N,

By the time that you’re reading this, I have no doubt in my mind that the news stations will be reporting on what I’ve done to our co-workers. Or should I say “former”. 

I’m sorry that it took me so long to stand up to the rest of them, especially for the sake of what they were doing to you on a daily basis. You didn’t deserve to be treated like you were nothing. You didn’t deserve to be humiliated and bullied by them. I will always be forever regretful that I allowed it to continue on for such a long period of time. I wanted to make things better for you, Y/N. 

I’m sorry that this is the way things have to end between the two of us, even though our relationship had only just barely begun. You are the first woman that I’ve encountered in my life that made me want to better myself. Be kinder. More tender with my actions and how I interacted with the world and the people in it.  

It’s a shame that I’m reduced to such callous actions on my part. 

I’m a coward for running away. I know I am. I know that they’ll be looking for me. They most likely will try to interrogate you, coerce information out of you. I won’t begrudge you if you did. You would be doing the right thing, of course. With the actions I’m about to commit, it surely would be the only way. 

I love you. 

I should be saying this directly to you, and softly caressing your face while I do so, but this is the next best option. I love you. Granted, we only spent so much time together, but as I’ve said previously before, I’ve grown to care for you. Much more than I initially let on. 

I can only hope to see you in the near future, but I don’t know if that will ever come to fruition or not. 

Please take care of yourself, Y/N-chan.

-Nanami Kento

Thank you for reading 💕

[bottlehawk]

dirk and jade hanging out in their spare time because they actually have a lot of crossover in their hobbies and special interests out of everyone in their friend group and it devolves into them showing each other their fursonas that they drew when they were 13. and they chat for a while explaining the design choices and lore behind each one. and after a hour into the conversation jade goes "you know, it is so nice to have an actual other furry in our friend group that i can talk to. it's hard finding other people in real life in the furry fandom. we should do a rp sometime!". and dirk goes "Oh. Well. I'm not actually a furry." and jade goes "haha. what?". and dirk goes "I mean, yes, I do participate within the aesthetic - ironically. But I wouldn't really classify myself as an actual furry. It's more of me observing the culture from afar for my own amusement - playing into the joke but not crossing the actual boundary, if you get what I mean. It's a fascinating area of my studies, though, and I do find the dynamics presented through this exercise very interesting." and jade just looks at him for a while, with a thoughtful expression on her face. and then she finally says. in the kindest, most gentle voice. "oh, dirk. you have such a profound amount of shame within you. it must have been so difficult for you all these years, hasn't it. i can't imagine how hard it must have been to live that way." and dirk has to go and excuse himself for a moment and as soon as he's out of jade's line of sight he immediately collapses onto his knees and starts rocking back and forth in the fetal position hyperventilating as his very being shakes and shivers at its stricken, naked core

[cloudcountry]

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(thank you all so much for 3k!! ever since getting back into the twst fandom after a six month break, ive been reflecting on my time here a lot. i feel like the twst fandom is one of the few fandoms that i'll actually be able to look back on fondly and feel comfortable doing so. i've been connected to all of these character for about 3 years now and now 2 years with you guys. i know some of you may think i'm scary but i encourage you to take part in this event ^^ it wouldn't the same without you <3 and while im at it, thanks for 3,100 followers too!!)

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[mxtxfanatic]

Jc stans whining about being bullied out of the fandom when they should have been bullied out of the Wei Wuxian’s wiki:

Or Jiang Cheng’s wiki:

Or the official release of the novel like:

when it said that Jiang Fengmian showed favoritism towards Wei Wuxian over Jiang Cheng in the character descriptions

when it reworked the section where the novel says Jiang Cheng "has no love in him"

when they were omitting lines of text that reflected unfavorably on Jiang Cheng (just one example of this happening in one of the volumes).

Slick diction will get you every time if you don't stop to think about why the writer has chosen a specific word choice. Whoever's been doing the bullying has obviously not been doing a good job. Explanations with evidence under the cut:

Jiang Cheng doesn't "insist" on carrying Wei Wuxian; Wei Wuxian is carried onto him and he carries him out because he thinks Wei Wuxian's reaction to the pain will make him look bad:

After the beating finished, Lan WangJi silently stood up and walked outside after saluting toward the the disciples in the ancestral hall, showing no evidence that he had been injured. Wei WuXian was the exact opposite. After he was carried onto Jiang Cheng’s back, he groaned for the whole way. ... (break where wwx is explaining why he was punished to the others) "...Jiang Cheng, walk slower. You’re almost shaking me off.” Jiang Cheng wanted to not only shake him off, but, even more so, to make a few man-shaped dents on the ground by slamming his head down, “Is simply carrying you not up to your standards?!” Wei WuXian, “I never asked you to carry me, in the beginning.” Jiang Cheng was enraged, “If I don’t carry you, you’d probably stay in their ancestral hall and roll on the ground all day long. I don’t have that thick of a face to lose! Lan WangJi even had fifty more strikes than you, and he even walked by himself. Yet, you have the nerve to pretend that you’re crippled. I don’t want to carry you any more. Get off, now!” Wei WuXian, “No, I’m wounded.”

—Chapt. 18: Refinement, exr

Wei Wuxian doesn't "insist" on being Jiang Cheng's subordinate. He is giving Jiang Cheng a pep talk about how he will never replace him after Madam Yu accuses him of being Jiang Fengmian's bastard child in front of Jiang Cheng:

Jiang Cheng was stuck between his father and his mother. After a moment of hesitation, he moved to his mother’s side. Holding his shoulders, Madam Yu pushed him forward for Jiang FengMian to see, “Sect Leader Jiang, it seems that some things I have to say. Look carefully—this, is your own son, the future head of Lotus Pier. Even if you frown upon him just because I was the one who bore him, his surname is still Jiang! ... I don’t believe for one second that you haven’t heard of how the outside people gossips, that Sect Leader Jiang has still not moved on from a certain Sanren though so many years have passed, regarding the son of his old friend as a son of his own; they’re speculating if Wei Ying is your...” ... [Wei Wuxian] hopped off the fence, “And, who said that being a sect leader means that you have to go along with the style of the sect? There have been so many sect leaders in the YunmengJiang Sect, I don’t believe at all that everyone was the same. Even the GusuLan Sect had an outlier like Lan Yi, but who would deny her position and her abilities? When talking about the famous cultivators of the Lan Sect, who could skip over her? Who could skip over her Chord Assassination technique?” Jiang Cheng was silent, as though he had finally become calmer. Wei WuXian put his hand on his shoulder again, “In the future, you’ll be the sect leader, and I’ll be your subordinate, like your father and my father. So what if the GusuLan Sect has its Two Jades? The Yunmeng Jiang Sect will have its Two Prides! So, shut up. Who said that you don’t deserve to be the sect leader? Nobody can say this, even you can’t either. If you do you’re looking for a beating.”

—Chapt. 56: Poisons, exr

Wei Wuxian doesn't "insist" on giving his golden core to Jiang Cheng. He is coerced into it by the debt invoked by the Jiang leaders before their deaths to protect Jiang Cheng with his life, and at that moment, Jiang Cheng was determined to die if he had to live without a golden core:

Wei WuXian, “Do you really want to die?” Jiang Cheng, “I can’t seek revenge even when I’m alive. Why shouldn’t I die? Maybe I’ll be able to turn into a ferocious ghost.” Wei WuXian, “You’ve been undergoing soul-calming ceremonies ever since you were young. You won’t be able to turn into a ferocious ghost even after you die.” Jiang Cheng, “If I can’t seek revenge no matter if I’m dead or alive, then what’s the difference between the two?” After he said this, he wouldn’t speak again no matter what. Wei WuXian sat by the bed. He looked at him for a while. Slapping his knees, he stood up and began to busy himself. When evening came, he had finally finished making a meal. He placed everything onto the table, “Get up. It’s time for dinner.” Of course, Jiang Cheng ignored him. Wei WuXian sat in front of the table. He picked up his own chopsticks, “If you don’t replenish your strength, how can we go take back your golden core?”

—Chapt. 60: Poisons, exr

Jiang Cheng doesn't return Chenqing "once the truth of his golden core is revealed." He returns it mid-battle because Wei Wuxian's whistling wasn't strong enough to effectively contain Nie Mingjue's corpse. After the battle, he simply doesn't demand it back.

Lan XiChen turned the direction in which his blade pointed, while Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi sped up their melodies as well. But the effects of the whistle had already been overcome. It would be much harder than before for it to take effect again. At this point, somebody on the side suddenly called, “Wei WuXian!” Wei WuXian answered immediately, “What?” Only after he answered did he realize that the one who called him was Jiang Cheng. Wei WuXian felt somewhat surprised. Jiang Cheng didn’t respond directly. Instead, he took something out from his sleeve and tossed. Wei WuXian caught it by instinct and looked, only to find a black, gleaming flute along with a crimson tassel. It was the ghoul flute, Chen Qing! ... Remembering that Jiang Cheng was the one who brought it, he turned over there and commented casually, “Thanks.” He waved Chenqing, “I’ll... be keeping this?” Jiang Cheng glanced at him, “It was yours in the first place.”

—Chapt. 108, exr

Jiang Cheng didn't "feel gratitude" towards the Wen siblings for saving and protecting him. He owed them gratitude due to his life debt and for a debt for aiding him in reclaiming his parents' bodies and home. He repays neither:

Jiang Cheng’s brows were knitted. He rubbed the vein that throbbed at his temple and soundlessly took in a deep breath, “... I apologize to all of the Sect Leaders. Everyone, I’m afraid you don’t know that the Wen cultivator whom Wei WuXian wanted to save was called Wen Ning. We owe him and his sister Wen Qing gratitude for what happened during the Sunshot Campaign.”

...

With Sandu, he pointed at Wen Ning who lay on the ground, “The only way of making up for things is for us to end things before they get the chance to!” Wei WuXian, “End what?” Jiang Cheng, “You burn this corpse right now and return to them all these leftovers of the Wen Sect. That’s the only way to make the subject die!” As he spoke, he raised his sword again, preparing to attack. However, Wei WuXian clenched his wrist, “Are you joking?! If we return Wen Qing and the others to them, they’d meet nothing but a dead end!” Jiang Cheng, “I doubt you’ll even return all of them. Why do you care what kind of end they meet? A dead end it is, then—what does it have to do with you?!”

—Chapt. 73: Recklessness, exr

Jiang Cheng forgives Jin Zixuan because he wants an alliance with the Jin Clan, and his sister's marriage is his bargaining chip.

All the times Jiang Cheng has physically assaulted Jin Ling, along with how the boy views his uncle