#and then i got told that (bc the party was being held at a fellow officer’s parents’ house)

[babybluebex]

.

[loth-wolffe]

Make a Wish

Pairings: none. a lil bit of captain rex x reader if you squint.

Summary: the torrent company prepares something for your birthday<3

Word count: 1,4k not proofread

A/n: So!!! i know I've been dead for the past week, but today's my sweetiepie ana @leia-saveourskins birthday!!!! and she asked me to write a little something for her so I came back from hell bc i can't really say no to mi bb ana. congrats bubs!! i hope you have the most amazing day today and always. hope you like this heheh<3 tqm mucho. mwah mwah mwah

Rex had called you to the hangar, something about Anakin needing some help with something, his words rushed as if he didn't have time and you felt confused, it wasn't like there weren't any more mechanics working at the time, and the General had given you half day off, "as a birthday present," he had told you, after a little hug and a congratulations.

You rushed your steps, hair still slightly wet from the shower you took before and the thought of getting more engine oil on you made you roll your eyes.

This better be good.

Once you got to the hangar door, you found it was closed, frowning, you commed Rex.

"The door is closed."

You hear him coughing, a few murmurs are heard and you never felt more confused in your life, what was going on.

"Yeah, sorry." He mumbled, "Ahsoka locked it by, uh, accident." Rex sounded nervous, and for some reason it made your heart beat faster. Did something happen? If it required for the General, Commander and Captain to be in the room, it must be important, but then again, there's no power in this galaxy that could ever torn them apart.

"Its open now."

It's not long before the door opens before you, and as soon as you step into the room, a chant of "surprise!" is heard, keeping you in place as your brain processes the image before you, tears filling your eyes as soon as it settles in your heart.

Everyone is there, your fellow mechanics, Anakin, Ahsoka, the troopers you had become friends with, even the General of the 212th was there, with big smiles on their faces, a big sign with messy letters in aurebesh that read Happy Birthday colored with the 501st blue hung between two ships, it was almost falling off, but the thought warmed your soul. The "ay" looked incredibly smaller as they run out of space compared to the wide H at the beginning, they all had different styles, and you wondered if they agreed to write one letter per person.

"I–" you started, but words didn't come out, you were left speechless, many emotions running through your mind and your heart that you couldn't pick one to express what you felt.

"Thank you," you whisper, blinking quickly in hopes for the tears to disappear, but they don't, much less when Ahsoka comes for you and holds your hand, leading you towards everyone.

"Ah! it's nothing, the boys insisted we should celebrate." She told you, the mischievous smile she wore told you she was to blame.

"The boys? Snips you couldn't shut up about the surprise party for a week." Anakin said, walking towards you before enveloping in a warm hug, one that lasted longer than the one he gave you a few hours prior. "Happy birthday," he murmured softly in your ear, and you smiled widely.

Anakin hasn't been nothing but nice since you joined the Resolute, times spent at the hangar fixing whatever ship he completely destroyed in his perfect landings, and you were completely past knowing him solely as The General and more as Anakin.

"Thanks, boss."

He chuckled, ruffling your hair before Ahsoka pushed him away.

"Hey, we all want our hugs gramps," she said as she gave you the tightest of hugs, laughing quietly when you hear Anakin huff in annoyance. "Hope we have you many many more years with us."

It took you a while, to be congratulated by everyone, Obi Wan being the first right after Ahsoka, Rex lingering a bit more than most, his cheeks a sweet shade of pink as he stumbles over his words.

"I uh," he scratches the nape of his neck, aware of the line of clones behind him waiting to hug you, "I, I know this isn't much but," his eyes look down to his feet before meeting your eyes, golden eyes filled with nothing but affection, his fingers fumble awkwardly with his belt as he tries to take something from one of the many bags. "I got you this."

He gives you a little bouquet of flowers of your favorite color, already placed in a cup with water to keep them from dying.

"Rex you–" for the second time in the past hour, tears fill your eyes, a lump in your throat makes it hard for the words to be pushed past your lips, "you didn't have to."

"I wanted to." He frowns slightly, looking at the little box in your hands, "like i said, it's not much, but–"

"It's perfect, thank you."

You kiss his cheek, feeling like melting from all the love you're receiving, but mostly because how even now, in the middle of war, between so much death and suffering, they still find a moment to celebrate life, to still be kind, to be thoughtful and caring.

The tips of his ears turn red, and you giggle softly before thanking him again, he nods as he moves for the next person to give you his best wishes, a few give you little kisses on your cheeks, and others give you stiff hugs that made you chuckle.

Jesse is the last one to hug you, along with Hardcase and Fives.

"Happy birthday to not only the best mechanic in the GAR, but to our best friend as well." Jesse says before giving you a bone crushing hug, a loud, breathless laugh leaving your lips as he leaves a very wet kiss on your cheek.

Hardcase doesn't wait for Jesse to leave before he's hugging you too.

"Happy birthday!"

And it's not long before you have all the boys crushing you in the biggest bear hug you've ever had, feeling a bit claustrophobic for a moment but that doesn't stop you from enjoying the moment, your heart swelling with love.

When they all pull away to let you breath, Fives places a hand over your shoulders, walking you towards the Generals and the Commander waited for you.

"We got another surprise for you!"

"Oh really?" You ask, looking at Echo when he places himself on your other side, throwing his arm over your shoulders as well and walking in sync with you and Fives.

"Fives really insisted on it."

You hum, confused once more, but as soon as you meet with the others, you find what they were talking about.

There's a big cake being held by two astromechs, the white frosting perfectly placed under the blue letters that held your name right on the middle, sprinkles of at least eight different colors, one of the corners had way too much yellow and there was a tiny smiley face on another.

"There's no birthday if there's no cake." Fives stated, and everyone agreed.

"We made it, so we're not completely sure if it's good," Tup sheepishly admitted, and you almost melted at the thought.

They were too sweet, incredibly so that your heart couldn't take it.

"Thank you guys, I'm sure it's amazing."

"Oh! you cannot cut it without blowing the candle," Obi Wan spoke, patting his clothes trying to find the candle Anakin made sure he didn't forget.

He placed it on the when he found it, giving you a dashing smile and a wink once he did. R2 was quick to lit it up.

The boys made sure to be loud when singing the happy birthday song, Hardcase and Jesse making their voices as low and loud as they could, making Dogma roll his eyes and Fives laugh for most of the song.

Tears left your eyes a few times, overwhelmed with the affection they all had for you, your cheeks hurting with how wide you were smiling.

"What did you wish for?" Fives asked you at some point, to which you shook your head as you took another bite of cake that –to everyone's surprise,– it was actually good.

"Can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Some say that if you say your wish, it won't happen." He scoffs.

"Sounds like bullshit." You laugh loudly, which makes Fives' face break into a smile.

You don't tell him, though, that you didn't wish for anything. Not really, for everything you wanted was right there, with you, the feeling of home, of warmth. Knowing you belonged somewhere, in a family you found all by yourself, surrounded with joy, and love.

They made sure it was your best birthday ever.

[bjy-on-ao3]

(1/2) Heyy, thanks for your reply, and sorry it took me a while to put my request together but here it is: Reader is a shy naiad/nymph who often attends Dionysus' parties, one day he throws a party for Ares, perhaps post-victory celebration. Ares is still in war mode (when is he not lol) and his mood is affecting the other party-goers, so much so that it starts disrupting the party (fights breaking out and what not). Dio wants people to start having fun again so he coaxes reader into helping ares uhhhh 'destress', maybe makes her drink a little ambrosia/wine to loosen up(two birds one stone y'know, he gets reader out of their shell as well). Of course *Dio* joins in the 'festivities' too bc can't be letting ares have all the fun dkkd.

(As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)

I’ve wanted to attempt this request for a while now, but I needed some study into certain parts of it I wasn’t familiar with. I hope y’all enjoy the fic nonetheless and my bits of inexperience in certain portions don’t show overmuch!

(Note: There is no Ares/Dionysus in this fic & this is featuring the characters from the Hades game, if that weren't clear already.)

Summary

During a post-war celebration, the God of War gets a bit out of control, making tempers run hot. With Ares’ bloodlust infecting the party and threatening to ruin it by becoming a brawl, Dionysus enlists Reader’s aid to help his brother wind down. Though he isn’t one to be left out of the fun either.

Tags/Warnings

Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal S*x, Biting, Blood, Creampie, Double Penetration, Drunk S*x, Hand Jobs, Nymph Reader, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Rough S*x, Shameless Smut, Slight Breathplay, Stomach Bulge, Threesome, Vaginal S*x, Voyeurism

Party Foul (Ares/F! Reader/Dionysus)

The sound of raised voices and angry snarls sent you fleeing from the area most folks had gathered to celebrate. Though it was a fete held by a local town in honor of some glorious conquest of war, the atmosphere had been light and jovial to start. However, it hadn’t been long until several of the Olympian gods deigned to grace the celebration with their presence, many with small groups of followers of their own. Mostly, the gods only added to the cheerful mood, the victorious soldiers feeling even more invigorated and honored by their presence. Yet the presence of one god stoked a fire in the blood of many present, whether soldier or laborer or homemaker. Already high on the chaos and strife from previous battles laid to rest, Ares, god of war, brought with him a mood that was electric and infectious. His revel in the bloodshed had boosted his mood, working him into something close to a frenzy. A frenzy that seeped out among the crowd, even after he had left the immediate area. It made them quibble and quarrel amongst one another, escalating until those unaffected began to cautiously distance themselves, lest they be caught up in an impromptu fistfight or worse. Arriving in tow with one of the attending gods, as was common among your fellow nymphs, you had been reluctant, but still secretly excited to enjoy the celebration. You were more than willing to enjoy the captivating atmosphere of good humor and greater cheer, even if you weren’t quite so unphased as your brethren. But as the mood of the hour had grown sour and bitter, voices raised, several men had started physical fights. You had quickly balked and ran. Your flight had taken you to one of the small surrounding buildings, breathing a deep sigh of relief once the angry voices and shouts faded to something far more faint. Stopping, listening for a time, you willed your stammering heart to slow, at least until the sound of sandals drew your attention. You cast a wary glance over your shoulder, ready to run again before recognizing the broad figure behind you. Turning to face the god whom you had accompanied to the party, you opened your mouth to speak, only for him to cut you off. “Ah, perfect timing!” Dionysus’ smooth voice boomed. “C’mere, babe, I could use a little help.” “I-What is it, my Lord?” you asked, thrown off by how laid back he sounded, despite the faint ruckus not far off. You hadn’t spoken to him too much personally, his attention often taken by those more willing to vie for it. “You’re having a good time, yeah? I mean, before all�� that,” he trailed off with a lazy gesture of his hand, showing his distaste for the brutish behaviour that had stirred up. “Oh, yes! Before that, absolutely,” you answered, nodding. “Fantastic! What do you say to livening things up a little then?” You couldn’t hold back the furrow of your brow. “Ah, it seems like the city folk have taken it upon themselves to do just that already… Not that I mean to say no, my Lord!” you added quickly. Dionysus grimaced at the reminder of the ongoing brawl growing nearby. “That’s.. Not quite the mood I’m looking for. That’s why I need a little help to cool things down,” he continued, the sour look quickly swept away. “Follow me babe; I promise it’ll be a good time.” “Alright,” you agreed with another acknowledging nod, thinking you would rather be further away from the fighting anyhow. “Great, this way then,” Dionysus gestured once more, this time the gesture more welcoming, an insistence for you to follow him. You followed quietly, giving a few idle glances around the building as he led you through it, down a long hall and to a secluded room. It seemed to be some kind of lavishly decorated bedroom or lounge, littered with chaises and sturdy chairs. Several sconces peppered the wall, giving it a warm, golden glow and leaving nary a corner of the room cast into darkness. On several tables sat platters of breads and cheese, eggs, fruit, and even one of various meats, flanked with several chalices and vessels of what you assumed wine and other spirits. Dionysus stopped at the

door, giving you a gentle push into the room while he waited before the doorway. “Wait here for a minute, babe, I’ll be right back,” he assured you with a grin. Uncertain exactly what it was Dionysus required of you - given who you were dealing with, you had ideas, of course, but one could never be completely sure - you did as you were told. You settled yourself on the edge of one chaise, eyeing one of the more impressive looking vessels on the tables. You decided against having a taste from it, deeming it better to just wait until Dionysus returned. After a few minutes that dragged on, the sound of footsteps drew near once more - this time more than just one set, the additional footsteps heavier than the first. Dionysus reappeared in the doorway, stepping into the room, followed by another man who could only be another god, judging by the broad breadth of his shoulders and chest and the fearsome, bloody red eyes that fell on you. You recognized him instantly - the god of chaos and war was hard to forget, after all - and most you knew gave him a wide berth. It wasn’t so much that he was unpredictable that concerned most people, rather that his fondness for war and violence was exceptionally predictable. You suppressed the urge to rise from your seat and make some hasty excuse to retreat, not fond of the wild-eyed excitement painted on the new god’s face that seemed barely held under control, or the nearly tangible aura around him that made your skin prickle. Despite being dressed in less warlike attire than the armor he often wore and was well known for, Ares was still large and imposing. The addition of several blades remaining strapped or tied here and there did little to dull that impression. You looked to Dionysus, seeking distraction from Ares’ entrance, wondering what business he had that involved you and also required Ares. “What was it you needed my help for again, Lord Dionysus?” you piped up as you watched him coax Ares into reposing on another chaise some distance away. Walking back to you, Dionysus eyed you for a second, and then his eyes flickered back to his brother, who seemed a bit more mild, though still impatient and worked up. “You saw the scuffle outside, yeah, babe?” he asked easily, seeming hardly put off by Ares’ frightening aura. You nodded silently, feeling as if he wasn’t quite done speaking. “Old Ares over there got a bit overexcited, and it’s really killing the mood,” Dionysus complained, tone dipping slightly in annoyance at the idea of a ruined mood, heaving a small sigh. “He could stand to… wind down, if you catch my meaning.” You weren’t dull, and catch his meaning you did quickly, looking to Ares. “Oh,” you said quietly, feeling more apprehension rise. Ares was appealing enough, you couldn’t deny that, but he was also nearly as frightful. “What do you say, babe? Think you can convince him to relax?” As carefree as Dionysus sounded, he still seemed aware of your worry, too. “If you’re feelin’ nervous, I’ve got a little something that might just help you out.” He reached for one of the more ornate vessels on the table before pouring some of the liquid into a goblet. The liquid was a rich, royal purple, some kind of wine that seemed to smoke faintly, though the scent that wafted from it was heady and sweet. “I promised it’d be a good time, right? Just drink this and trust me, babe.” Fickle though most gods were, from your experience Dionysus was trustworthy enough for his words to be reassuring. The wine in the cup would no doubt deal away with any lingering uncertainties as well. You considered the cup for a moment more, giving a second half-nod and reaching to take it from Dionysus’ hold. You drained it quickly, far quicker than you might have under normal circumstances. Now was not the time to sip and recline. You needed whatever aid that wine might offer. For several passing, heavy moments, your nerves remained. But a warm, gentle buzz crept up, drowning your concerns out until they were naught but an indistinct drone in the back of your head. A warmth starting in your

cheeks spread down your neck and chest, leaving you suddenly less stiff, less concerned by Ares’ menace. The prospect of helping him ‘relax’, as Dionysus had so casually suggested, became less frightening by the second. As if he could tell how quickly his special wine had taken effect - you guessed it was more likely he knew how potent it was - Dionysus grinned. He extended a hand to help you to your feet, and you took it without a second thought. In the past, you had heard alcohol referred to as ‘liquid courage’, though you imagined that was regarding mortal drink. You didn’t think any mortal wine could have so put you at ease quite so speedily as what you had just drank. Yet, despite the potency of the alcohol, you were easily able to remain steady on your feet, even without Dionysus’ help. “Well, go on, babe,” Dionysus urged you nonchalantly. “Don’t want this party to go downhill anymore, do we?” With a gentle shake of your head, you released Dionysus’ hand, and swept past him, towards Ares from where he watched with vague interest. The warmth and confidence granted to you spread further, growing strong, whisking away the last tatters of your nerves and leaving a need to please behind. You noted that even though Ares showed some interest, he seemed restless, as if he would much rather be out among the ruckus he had unintentionally - you assumed - incited. “I’ve been told you're in need of some relaxation, my Lord,” you said in a tone you hoped was alluring. Ares scrutinized you for a silent moment from his seat, sipping something from a goblet of his own. Though the scent that drifted from his was far more potent and acrid. “Is that so?” Ares’ speech was much more calm and composed than you had expected, a striking contrast to the roiling expression in his eyes. His sharp gaze flicked to Dionysus where you had left him. He had settled onto another of the many chaises, indulging in his own drink already and looking as if he wasn’t paying you any further mind. “Very well,” Cutting red eyes turned back to you, and a shiver of anxiety you had thought drowned in wine shot through you. But you pushed the feeling away, calling on the courage bestowed on you by that same drink. “But first, off with those,” Ares demanded, gesturing with a nod of his head to your clothing. Quick to obey, your fingers flashed to your belt, undoing it and tossing it aside. Your fingers shook a little, yet you didn’t feel as if fear or worry were the cause now. Next came your tunic, pulled over your head as gracefully as you could manage, left to join your belt. At last, only your breast band remained, and you doubted it was exempt from Ares’ command. So if came off, too, leaving you stark nude in front of him. Were it not for the potency of the draught Dionysus had given you, you were sure your stripping would have been a clumsy mess, but even with your trembling touch, it had felt easy. “Now, come here, then,” the tone of Ares’ voice hardly changed, remaining thunderous and even, as if you had little effect on him. You moved until you were within reach, and Ares closed the rest of the distance between you, grabbing you by the wrist and thigh and pulling you onto his lap. Even in your pleasant haze, the sudden, unsettled motion struck you, and you sat still for a few seconds, trying not to blink owlishly at him. A ghost of a grin curled Ares’ lips, and he waited expectantly. Large, hard hands lingered on your skin. They shifted, and you flinched reflexively, and Ares’ smile showed a slight flash of teeth, as if he was enjoying the tension, however brief. “Don’t keep the man waiting, babe,” drifted Dionysus’ voice from his chaise. Apparently, he was paying more attention it had initially appeared. Shaking yourself out of your surprised stupor, you licked your lips and tried to relax again. You bent forward, planting your hands firmly on the front of Ares’ tunic and crushing your lip to his. The taste of whatever sharp, potent liquid he had been drinking met you head on, mingling with something pleasantly earthy and overwhelming the

lingering sweetness from the wine Dionysus had plied you with. There was a soft clunk as he set down his drink somewhere nearby, and his reaction was swift, pushing roughly back into the kiss and nipping harshly at your lower lip. One hand tangled in your hair, his grip stinging, preventing you from retreating. The other wasn’t to be left idle, sweeping over your form, grabbing rough handfuls of your ass or thighs or chest as it wandered. A cruel, full bite to your lip made you hiss and gasp, opening the seal of your lips well wide enough for Ares to thrust his tongue between them. When it twined itself with yours, it was as fierce as his kiss, waging a battle rather than taking part in what was for many a sensual dance. The hand roaming your body shifted to the small of your back, pushing your hips down into his, ensuring you felt the fruits of your effort to entice him, already straining beneath his clothes, hard and hot even through them. Ares pulled away, allowing you to catch your breath and taste blood as it trickled from your savaged bottom lip. Your tongue slipped out once more, re-wetting your lips and gathering the stray beads of blood. Something like amusement had overtaken Ares’ wild-eyed gaze. “What an obedient little nymph you have brought, brother,” he said smoothly, clearly addressing Dionysus, though his attention remained fixed on you, taking a more thorough measure of your form spread across his lap. Something you couldn’t quite place flashed through the cutting red for an instant before he spoke again, and you couldn’t contain another shiver. “How much can such a fragile creature handle, I wonder,” he mused, the hand that had captured your head sliding down and lightly skimming over your neck briefly. Another shudder wracked you, less noticeable this time, and your breath caught in your chest. “Come now, nymph, let us see.” Quickly, Ares was on you again, leaning forward in his seat, pressing you more insistently into his lap before the same hand dug into your hair again, pulling and directing until you were bent back at his mercy. As before, Ares didn’t try to be soft or considerate, nipping at your lips again and wrestling your tongue into writhing submission. The warm, encouraging strength of the brew Dionysus had supplied made the lines between arousal and fear bubbling beneath the surface warp and twist, and you weren’t sure which was surging from the less than gentle treatment. Small moans and gasps previously smothered by Ares’ mouth and tongue broke free when he moved away again, licking his lips. He didn’t waste time, though, moving down your throat just as aggressively as he had kissed you. Sharp bites and soon-to-be bruises left a burning path across your jaw and throat. A deep, satisfied hum rolled through Ares when he was met with hisses and groans in response. Though his actions were careless and painful, there was pleasure in them, too, stoking a growing heat in you as if each touch of his lips and teeth and tongue infused you with the excited heat of bloodlust that filled the war god. You rolled your body toward his harsh attentions, bare core grinding against the eager hardness tucked beneath his clothes. A dark laugh tickled your skin, and you cracked your eyes open to spy an amused expression gracing Ares’ face. They snapped shut again to absorb the myriad mix of pain and pleasure as he assaulted your skin all over again. Somehow, his mouth on your skin felt so hot, even though you were sure your entire body was already aflame. So caught up in Ares’ attentions, you paid no mind to what had become of Dionysus. He lay eyeing the entire spectacle while he reclined languidly on his own chaise. Had you realized, it would have come as no surprise that the hedonistic god was fond of watching. And for a time, Dionysus was content to do just that - watch - his eyes glued to your reactions from his brother’s touch. But it wasn’t long before looking alone wasn’t enough, and his hand drifted to his lap, palming an erection of his own and stroking it through the fabric. Ares withdrew

again, allowing another short reprieve from his onslaught of mouth and hand. You followed him, moving your hands from his chest to his lap. A tiny part of you urged you to trace the outline of his erection beneath his clothes, to take your time. Yet another, far louder, more sensible part suggested that Ares wouldn’t likely take too kindly to a light and teasing touch. You abandoned the notion, ignoring the dull sting of the marks Ares had bit and sucked into your skin. You pushed his lappets away instead, and his cock stood free and stiff before you, almost as imposing as its owner. Rather than taking the time to admire him, you wrapped a hand around his thick cock, rewarded with a deep, primal sound. Ares’ head tilted back for a moment, basking in your hand slipping up and down his length. You squeezed a little harder as you stroked him, and Ares groaned; a husky, growling noise that went straight to your cunt. You didn’t hear the footsteps approaching closer and closer behind you, nor did you catch the motion sweeping toward you. You only realized Dionysus’ suddenly much closer present when Ares tipped his head forward and cast his eyes past you. A brief glimpse of annoyance flitted across his face, quickly erased as you continued to fondle his cock. “Inviting yourself to join in, brother?” Ares asked, and part of you was almost disappointed to hear how collected and smooth his tone sounded, as if you weren’t touching him at all, nor as if he had set upon you like a wild beast before that. Your pace slowed, but didn’t stop as you twisted as far as you could to look back over your shoulder. You found Dionysus standing in front of Ares’ chaise, his own excitement easily noticeable beneath his flowing tunic. “Can’t very well resist a show like this,” Dionysus excused shamelessly with a shrug. Something told you this was hardly the first time he had intruded on someone else’s carnal moments. Or perhaps his eternally relaxed attitude only gave off that sense. “You’ll just have to learn to share.” Your glance flicked from one to the other, expecting Ares to look more irritated at Dionysus’ casual decree, but he seemed to brush it off with a short, dismissive hum. His focus returned to you, deciding you more worthy of his time. He swiped your hand away from his cock, shifting you in his lap with both hands. You barely registered the sound of rustling of cloth behind you, completely distracted as Ares positioned you properly over him. He didn’t bother taking his time easing himself inside, jerking your hips down and bucking his upward. You stiffened immediately, biting your abused lip at the sudden stretching, aching sting as he filled you completely. You clawed at the fabric of the chaise, taking a deep, quivering breath. Fortunately, the wine and, somehow, Ares’ rough handling had left you limber and wet enough that the stretch of Ares’ cock wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. Yet still, you couldn’t restrain a pained whimper and a shorter, gasping breath when he shifted, lifting you up and forcing you back down. “Aah, Lord Ares, it- I-I can’t--” Your words were cut short by a whine, and your eyes shot down, avoiding Ares’ cruel crimson ones, again attempting to relax, focusing on the pleasure beneath the pain. You swallowed hard, and your cunt constricted, despite the burning ache, at the sight of the bulge in your lower belly. You hadn’t missed Ares’ considerable endowment when you had been touching him beforehand, but the sight of him so noticeably buried in you was a little frightening, and somehow even more arousing. “What troubles you so, nymph?” you tore your gaze away from the lewd sight it was fixed on to meet Ares’ eyes when he spoke. The cut of his voice was derisive, almost cruel, and a leer adorned his lips. “Surely you can handle this,” he added. He lifted and lowered you again, harder, and his smirk grew just a little when you winced and a gasping ‘ah’ burst from your lips. Somehow it was no shock a god entangled in violence and war would enjoy some pain, even in play. Dionysus’ familiar voice

floated to you before you could answer, smooth as honey, and almost soothing. “Easy, babe, you’re doing great.” His words were an intimate whisper, and if Ares could hear, he didn’t care to acknowledge them, only spearing you on his cock all over again, settling into a slow, rough pace. “Gotta relax, let it all go,” Dionysus urged you, and the tickle of his breath sent a pleasant chill down your spine, making your cunt squeeze down on Ares’ length again. Dionysus’ hands splayed across the bare skin of your back, feeling almost cold on your overheated skin. He smoothed around your torso until a breast filled each large palm, his thumbs rubbing lightly over your nipples. The sensation was a welcome contrast to the sting of Ares’ brutal fucking. Though the pain didn’t seem as bad as it had been - whether you were becoming used to it, or the pleasure Dionysus added muted it, you weren’t sure. Ares’ hands, meanwhile, remained steadfast on your hips, content to hold them in a grip tight enough to surely bruise. Each new time you sank down on his dick, your breath escaped in a gasp or breathless groan. The sounds you made morphed into something steadily more erotic, breathier and wanton. Ares’ voice drifted out, too, though in rumbling grunt when he buried himself completely inside you. Coming down on his length again, another hardness met you, from your backside this time, your ass sliding against it as Ares continued to fuck you. A fleeting glance back told you was Dionysus, proudly nude having decided completely discarding his long tunic was the best course of action. Your lapse in attention earned you more punishment from Ares, though, and he took the chance to lean forward and bite down on your neck sharply. Your hands flexed again, digging into whatever it was they had settled on now - you weren’t concerned with what, be it cloth or flesh or anything else. Your head snapped around, meeting entertained, self-satisfied red. Dionysus’ erection drew back and one hand lifted away. After several more thrusts, something hard, but smaller and more pliant prodded at your ass. Coated in something tacky and slick, what you assumed was one of Dionysus’ fingers searched briefly before finding your asshole and rubbing against it in small, gentle circles. An extra hard thrust from Ares made you tense and whimper, though your body clenched around him again. Still near your throat, Ares’ mouth closed over your skin again, biting and sucking greedily. Dionysus’ finger abandoned the lazy circles, pressing lightly against your puckered hole, steadily forward, careful despite Ares’ jarring pace. When the digit finally slipped through the ring of muscle, you hissed, a new discomfort striking you for an instant, in combination with Ares’ harshness. But whatever coated Dionysus’ finger had made the penetration only uncomfortable for a brief moment, and when he eased his finger in and out, the discomfort shifted to the back of your mind, replaced by the increased sense of fullness. Alongside it, a bubbling tension was awakening in your core, spurred on by the treatment of both gods, boiling low and tightening further ever-so-slowly. A second thick finger joined the first, and you became more used to the newest intrusion, taking in the swell of sensations enveloping you. Dionysus’ pace shifted to match Ares’ in speed, but it remained careful and otherwise languid. The hand he had left on your tits though became notably rougher, though, from excitement, rather than pleasure in pain. Ares’ grip on your hips wavered, no longer needing to so forcefully direct you. The ministrations from both had worked you into a wild heat that encouraged you to rock and grind against him and back onto Dionysus’ fingers. You couldn’t decide which your body craved more. All you knew was you needed both. Any remaining tension had been completely sapped away, along with all coherency you had possessed. An unbidden whine broke free when Dionysus withdrew his fingers, turning halfway into a gasp and then a moan when Ares paired a hard thrust with an even harder

bite on the junction of your neck and shoulder. You had little time to protest or miss any of the sensations before the hotter, harder touch of Dionysus’ cock returned, coated in the same thick, slick substance as his fingers. He aligned himself with your ass, as smooth and relaxed as before. “Better take a deep breath, babe,” Dionysus purred in your ear, both of his hands shifting to cut your rear. He pushed forward as you impaled yourself on Ares once more, his entrance mindful and slow; the opposite of his brother’s entirely. You drew a sharp breath, not from Dionysus’ warning, but simply from the way each inch added more and more to what you had already believed to be a fullness that threatened to split you wide. By the time Dionysus, too, was sheathed inside of you, the fullness bordered on overwhelming, and your breathing faltered again, your mind so completely scrambled. Your head fell back and your lips opened in an ‘oh’ of pleasure, dull pain, and a plethora of other intense, mixed feelings. You tried to rock into them both, to meet each thrust, though when their paces aligned, you could do little but writhe and moan, as if all sense had been wrung from you. Dionysus mouthed at your ear playfully, tongue curling across the shell. “Mm, you’re doing great, babe,” he praised in a husky whisper you almost didn’t catch, so caught up in everything. But catch them you did, and they sent another shudder coursing through you, your body squeezing both gods desperately and drawing more erotic sounds from them both. Another growling, low moan from Ares. A breathy, hedonistic groan from Dionysus. They only added to the mounting maelstrom of arousal and heat. Your heart quickened when one of Ares’ hands abandoned your hips and splayed around your throat loosely. His lips brushed your ear, and as he spoke, he squeezed, just enough to make your heart beat even faster and your breath come a bit more shallow. “Enjoying yourself, are you, nymph?” he growled cheekily. “I might have expected as much from one of my dear brother’s little harlots.” Had you been more sober, clear minded, Ares’ words, sounding nearly a slight, might have made you flush hot with humiliation. Instead, they worked only to heighten your desire, flowing into everything else. You had no mind left for embarrassment. All that remained were the mind-numbing sensations surrounding you and filling you. Ares’ voice dropped away, his pace picking up, his hips bucking harder into yours. Even Dionysus behind you thrust a little faster, harder, his own peaking arousal just as plain as Ares’. You weren’t immune to the welling up of pleasure, either, your belly churning and tight with a winding heat that was nigh unbearable. It grew and grew each time you were filled, and you wanted to scream instead of moan, cry instead of gasp. The thick intrusions, the wandering and groping and squeezing hands, and the greedy, hot tongues and teeth. It all came together in the perfect storm of mindless, primal passion. You came before either of them, giving into whatever wanton shout or cry wanted to escape, your muscles clenching frantically. When first the tense coil of heat burst, you were set awash with that heat, searing and intense, as if lightning struck. Your orgasm rose and fell, only to be dragged out by Ares’ and Dionysus’ unceasing pace, thrusting into your heat unrelentingly. The end of one orgasm blended into the beginning of another, and hot, overwhelmed tears brimmed in your eyes before breaking away. On either side of your face, each god lingered. Dionysus whispered more sultry words of praise and encouragement, placing sloppy kisses on your temple and cheek. Ares nipped your jaw and licked at the salty trail of your tears, as it was an exquisite taste that delighted him. Ares’ hips rolled into you harder than ever before, pace becoming wild and erratic. With a final sharp thrust, Ares’ release filled your cunt, hot and thick, accompanied by a savage bite to your neck that left the warm, sticky feeling of blood in its wake. When he pulled back, a bit of

blood smeared on his lips and teeth, he looked even more warlike and intimidating than to start. But something in his expression seemed sated, calm almost - or at least as calm as a god of such chaos could be. Dionysus, despite joining in later, took little longer to reach his own climax, and with a grinding thrust, he, too, coated your insides with his cum. A drawn-out, erotic moan followed in the wake of his orgasm, and he lay his head on your shoulder, his hair sticking to your overheated, sweat-slicked skin. After a moment of silence, Ares reclined back more comfortably, though didn’t bother to lift you off his length. Dionysus pulled away, withdrawing leisurely with a sound of contentment. Feeling exhausted and sore, you chanced collapsing against Ares’ chest, and to your surprise, the war god allowed it. You ignored the warm, wet feeling seeping down your thighs, too tired to truly care. “There. Don’t we all feel better now?” asked Dionysus cheerily, hardly sounded tired or winded at all. He paused to listen in silence, searching for the previous ruckus. “Certainly sounds a bit quieter out there now.” “Perhaps,” Ares drawled, and he didn’t sound very taxed either. It seemed you were the only one so tired. “I may yet have more use for your nymph before the night is done,” Ares decided, and you jumped reflexively when his fingers curled in your hair and massaged absently, in a gesture that could almost be confused for affectionate. Dionysus hummed acknowledgement. “Well, I’ll be back in a bit then. Try not to have too much more fun while I’m gone.” You heard rather than saw Dionysus redress and depart, too tired to bother looking. Your mind wandered to what other uses Ares might have for you, as he had stated. Did Dionysus have similar intentions in mind for the evening, too? Whatever the case, this wouldn’t be a night you would soon forget.

[faulty-writes]

Hi there, so I might have binge read all your bnha works in one go... 👉👈 and I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind writing some angst to fluff for me? I don’t know if you write multiple characters for one scenario (if you don’t, then just Todoroki? (and if you do, maybe Tamaki, Izuku and Bakugo, take your pick!)). I’m asking for something where the reader (gf) doesn’t like to talk bc her voice is unusually low and gets made fun of? Please don’t feel pressured to write it! Love, from a shy fan💜

[Requests: Open]

[Normally I limit things to three characters per request but since you asked so nicely and you’re such a dedicated fan of my works. I’m happy to grant your request. I hope you enjoy and thank you for liking my writing! I appreciate it <3 I decided the best way to do this was bullet style.] 

Shoto Todoroki 

Shoto had always had an honest personality, which is why when he found you with your head down and a few tears streaming down your face, he had to ask why. But you only shook your head and refused to speak which irritated Shoto somewhat. He cared about you and he wanted you to trust him. But he had an idea of what was bothering you. 

“Is this about your voice?” he questioned as he took a seat next to you and pulled you close, Shoto knew that you didn’t particularly like your voice and he found himself often on the spotlight defending you because others liked to think it was funny to bring you down over something so silly. After all, your voice was a part of who you were and he loved you. 

You sighed and nodded in response to his question, “Hm, I see.” he said before leaning over to kiss your forehead. “This may sound strange to you, but I enjoy your voice. It’s unique and it’s what made me notice you in the first place. I know you have a hard time accepting it and if I’m being honest, I’m getting sick of seeing others make you cry over something that belongs to you.” 

You swallowed and looked at Shoto, confusion in your eyes. “I ...” you closed your mouth before shaking your head. Shoto reached down to grab your hand, gently stroking his thumb across the top of it. “No please, use your voice. Tell me, I want to hear that beautiful sound only you can make.” you frowned before looking away. “I h-hate my voice.” you squeaked, it was too deep and unfeminine.

Part of you wondered how Todoroki could stand it but he only smiled. “I love your voice, regardless of what you think. Your voice is beautiful, your voice is important and I will always choose your voice, your words over even the sweetest of lullabies,” he said as he gently began to rock you and you felt tears prickle in the corner of your eyes. “Thank you, Shoto.” 

Tamaki Amajiki 

“B-Bunny wait!” Tamaki called after you, hearing the laughter continue and it made him angry. His fingers tightened into fists and he turned to face the fellow UA students who had decided to make fun of you. “S-Shut your mouths. A-All of you! S-Shut up r-right now!” he demanded, despite not being that brave when it came to social things. His anger fueled him at the moment. 

“Hah! The anxiety boy and deep voice girl, what a pair! What’s a matter Amajiki couldn’t do better than a girl that sounds like she could voice Darth Vader?” Tamaki growled, tempted to use his quirk even though it would be wasted on such punks. 

“I s-said shut up!” Tamaki snapped, “You c-call yourselves, heroes, b-but make fun of p-people for the t-things they can’t c-change? I-I’m proud to be w-with someone w-who isn’t a-afraid to be t-themselves!” he growled before taking a step forward, his tentacles at the ready. “So I s-suggest you stop m-making fun of the p-person I love or I-I’ll t-teach you a l-lesson!” despite the fact that he was trembling, he seemed intimidating enough for the group to back away. 

“T-That’s what I t-thought ...” he muttered before running to find you pressed against a wall near the courtyard. He frowned as he approached you and held you close. “P-Please don’t cry B-Bunny, d-don’t listen to them! Y-Your voice, it’s w-what makes you w-who you are and I k-know ...I k-know you have t-trouble talking j-just like me. B-But please d-don’t stop talking t-to me. I-I’ll miss your v-voice, d-deep or not. I-It’s you.” He said as he nuzzled against your hair. 

You sniffled, burying your face into Tamaki’s chest. “Y-You mean it ...” you responded, cringing at the sound of your voice as always. But Tamaki smiled and leaned down to kiss the top of your head. “Y-Yeah I d-do ...y-you’re my Bunny and y-you always will be. W-We can help e-each other f-find the courage to u-use our voices f-for the greater g-good. I p-promise, I-I’ll make sure you l-learn your v-voice is a-amazing and w-wanted and n-needed even.” he said before squeezing you. “I l-love you, Bunny.” 

Izuku Midoriya 

Izuku should have known something was wrong when you texted him that you wanted to be alone. Even though you were only a floor away in the dorm building. He hadn’t wrapped his head around what was wrong until Kirishima informed him that he saw some of the upperclassmen making fun of you. Most of their jokes revolved around your unusual voice. 

He felt like an idiot, it was so simple he should have known better. He groaned before rushing to your dorm room, knocking loudly but he got no response from you. So instead, he began to text you. [Kirishima told me what happened, you’re the most important person to me. Why didn’t you tell me?] he sent it and waited for your reply. [BECAUSE YOU KNOW I HATE MY VOICE.] 

He frowned, sure your voice was unusual but who wasn’t unusual in a world full of quirks? [Your voice is fine! Don’t listen to what other people say, they only make fun of you because they know you’re better than them. I know you’re quiet and reserved but whenever I hear your voice it makes me really happy. I love hearing what you have to say, your opinions, your favorite things. Everything.] 

You sighed as you read his text and shook your head. [My voice is too weird, I wish it was different! Why couldn’t I have had a lighter voice?] you waited a minute before Izuku responded. [Please come out of your room and talk to me. I know that might be asking a lot. But all of us in Class 1-A would never make fun of you and now that we know what other people have been doing, we won’t hesitate to put a stop to it.]

He frowned as he waited for your door to open, almost losing hope after a few minutes but then he heard a click and your head popped out. You looked at him with a frown and he approached you. “I promise, your voice is important here and I would never lie to you,” he said with a smile as he pulled you into a hug. “No matter what, I don’t care who it is. When someone makes fun of you, especially for your voice they are making fun of me too. I won’t stand for it.” he said as he reached up to stroke your hair. “You’re perfect as you are, no matter what anyone says.” 

Bakugo Katsuki 

“Will you just FUCKING speak already!? I know you have this thing about your voice, but come on. Are you really gonna listen to what those shitty EXTRAS have to say?!” he snapped and you looked down, unsure of how to respond. 

“It doesn’t matter what they say, it only matters what you fucking think of yourself, and frankly I’m getting sick of you always putting yourself down,” he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re better than them! Even without your voice, even when you choose to use your voice. It doesn’t matter and if they disagree they can answer to me.” he said as he lifted his hand, allowing his tiny explosions to come to life. 

 “I’m fucking sick of them making you have a pity party for yourself, so what?! Your voice is ...pretty weird but it’s part of the reason why I LIKE you okay?! You’re pretty awesome and ...well I’m not for mushy stuff but I’ll blow their fucking heads off if I hear them make fun of you again.” he said as he clenched his jaw in anger. He sighed and reached over, pulling you up. Something that made you gasp before you quickly pressed your lips together. 

One arm was wrapped around your waist and the other reached up to cup your cheek. “You mean a lot to me okay!? I don’t like seeing you cry and all that other bullshit those BASTARDS put you through,” he said before leaning down to peck your lips. “Don’t ever let them say your voice isn’t important, that it’s too deep or whatever the fuck they have to say.” he paused before continuing. 

“Babe ...I love your voice and well, it makes me happy when I hear you talk. It’s not a pleasure I get often so ...when you’re around me, could you at least lower your defenses down enough to talk to me?” he questioned and you glanced to the side, “I ...o-okay.” he smiled at you, “Thanks ....and thanks for trusting me. I couldn’t go without hearing your voice at least once a day. It’s one of the things that actually makes me smile.” 

[irrelevantwriter]

Feliz Navidad

Pairing: (Mayans MC) Angel Reyes x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, oral sex (female receiving), inappropriate use of a candy cane, a little hand job action, unprotected vaginal sex, mentions of bodily fluid, Angel being adorable hot as fuck, Angel’s ringed fingers (bc that shit is what keeps me up at night)

Word Count: 3.8K

Summary: There’s a Christmas party at the Mayan’s clubhouse and Angel has a sudden bout of inspiration that includes a candy cane, EZ’s trailer, and his very persuasive nature your extreme horniness.

AN: This is my contribution to @ne-gans follower celebration. Congrats on the shit ton of followers! And if you aren’t following her, please do! She’s an amazing writer of all things smut. My chosen prompt was “Who knew candy canes could be so erotic?” for Angel Reyes from Mayans MC and it was way too much fun to write. Hopes this puts you guys in the Christmas spirit, and if not, at least in the Angel Reyes spirit because that man deserves. Please read, enjoy, and share with your friends! 

The amazing aesthetic was done by my fellow Angel thirst bitch and homegirl Ashley @negansdirtygirl22.

*Masterlist in bio.

*******************

Feliz Navidad

Feliz Navidad

Próspero año y Felicidad

You hummed along to the music flowing through the speakers as you sipped from the eggnog clutched in your hand. The Mayan clubhouse was alive with holiday cheer and activity, a sight rarely witnessed within the walls. It had been a joint effort between you, the other wives, girlfriends, and of course Letty and Chucky, to bring some much needed spirit to the club. The last few months had been hard on everyone and you and the other women wanted to give the men something special to put their heavy hearts and minds at ease.  

That’s where the Christmas party came into play. There had been plenty of parties around the holidays in the past, but nothing actually dedicated to one of your favorite times of year. This celebration was all about the horrible Christmas music, the way too boozy eggnog, the tamales that one of Creeper’s tias made, and the much needed sense of familia that had been lacking as of late. And it seemed to be paying off.

The space was decorated, all thanks to Letty and Chucky, who chose some of the most heinous looking plastic garland you’d ever seen. But it was the thought that counted. And everyone was having a good time. People were eating, drinking, laughing, and even playing Loteria in a corner. That’s where your eyes settled as they landed on your boyfriend trying to cheat in the game of bingo. His younger brother sat to his right, though he’d been banned from playing because of his unique memorization abilities.

You’d made a move to join him when Chucky appeared in front of you, mouth pulled into a wide grin. The man was obviously having a great time, if the red lipstick caked on his cheek was anything to go by.

“Señorita…” He greeted as he held up a candy cane, one of the larger ones that he’d purchased for the tree set up in the corner. “Para ti.” He held the treat out to you and you laughed, taking it from him.

“I accept that.”

If possible, his smile got even wider as he bounced off. You shook your head and smiled, truly taken by the oddity that was Chucky. Never a dull moment with the man.

You returned on your quest to finally join Angel. You two had rode together in your car, but had hardly spent time with each other once you’d hit the door. You’d been making sure everything was in place, helping El Presidente’s old lady as much as you could. Now you could finally relax and take in all the hard work; the outcome making you feel warm and impossibly cheerful.

“There she is.” Angel announced to the table, gesturing to your approaching figure.

You maneuvered so that you could sit on his lap, your legs pulled to one side and tightly together to keep your red dress in place. His arms welcomed you in, immediately attaching to you like a magnet. His calloused hands landed on your hip and bare thighs, unconsciously caressing the skin there. The motion made a rapid zap of heat shoot up your thighs.

“Baby, tell the guys that I don’t cheat at Lotería.” His voice sounded slightly petulant, like he’d been accused of the crime and teased mercilessly for it.

You sat your cup down and let your fingers dance in his hair, his dark eyes gazing up at you with boyish charm and excitement. It felt good to see him so carefree. It made all the pain worth it. All the late nights and brushes with death; the time you spent worrying that he’d never make it home to you. That all got erased in these moments.

“He doesn’t cheat at Lotería.” You dutifully repeated for him to the table of men. He nodded in satisfaction, feeling as if he’d won. “But he does at Uno.”

A loud series of “Ohhhhhs” and deep chuckles filled the space as they reacted to your statement. Angel looked at you in faux betrayal, his eyes crinkling at the sides from barely subdued laughter.

“Really, querida? Just like that. Telling my whole business.” His ringed fingers landed heavy on your lap, edging the hem of your dress up slightly.

You giggled and burrowed yourself into his neck. “Sorry, baby.” You left a chaste kiss on his neck, knowing your comment would be forgiven with the gesture.

“Hmmm,” He hummed, eyes squinted up at you in scrutiny. “You can make it up to me.” He raised his brows in question, lip pulled into a devilishly handsome smirk.

You let out a girlish giggle, unable to help yourself when he flirted with you. You vaguely noticed that the rest of the table had gone back to their conversations and the game, no longer paying attention to the wrapped up couple.

“Oh, I will…” You teased with a bite to your bottom lip. His eyes followed the movement, hands gripping your bare flesh just a little bit tighter in response. He ran his tongue over his own bearded lips and your breath caught slightly, feeling the alcohol and your sudden arousal start to take effect.

“How about right now?” He whispered into your ear, nibbling at the appendage. You closed your eyes for an instant, momentarily lost in the sensation before you remembered where you were. Angel had that kind of influence over you, and you hoped it never waned.

“And where would we go?” You responded breathlessly, only slightly embarrassed by your strong reaction to his minimal ministrations.

He smirked up at you, somewhat surprised by your willingness to go along with his mischief. Angel loved pushing your sexual limitations. He loved testing your boundaries and exploring all facets of pleasure. You felt comfortable enough with him that you found yourself ready to follow him to the ends of the Earth. Not to mention, the man owned your heart, fully and without condition. You were his in a way you’d never belonged to any man before. And you could confidently say the same thing about him. Angel was devoted to you. And he liked to show you just how much on multiple occasions.

“I got an idea.” He looked around you and to the room, inspecting your surroundings. He leaned up again and whispered into your ear, the grittiness in his voice making you shiver. “Let’s go outside.”

You nodded and wordlessly got up with Angel’s help, letting him lead you to the door and outside. No one called out for you. No one even seemed to notice your absence. Excitement pulsed through your blood as he gripped your hand and pulled you with him across the dirt lot. You didn’t ask questions. You didn’t stop him. You let him take control.

He opened the door of EZ’s trailer with a key inside of his leather. He helped you up the rickety steps, your black heeled boots not making the feat easy. He shut the door once you’d made it inside, the space cramped and narrow. EZ hadn’t been staying in the trailer lately so the place was a little dusty. You felt a small sweep of guilt at invading the space for your own personal debauchery. But seeing Angel eye-fucking you like he was right now made those feelings dissipate right out of the trailer.

“Have I told you how fucking hot you look tonight?” He asked from his spot near the small dining table. His intense study of you and his words made you instantly wet, your panties barely catching the residual.

“Yeah, you mentioned something about wanting to bend me over the counter before we left the house earlier. Does that count?” You replied with your own wicked smile.

He chuckled and stepped forward, hand smoothing down his whiskers. You’d started to see hints of grey within the strands and you’d let Angel know how attractive you found that as soon you’d spotted them. He was more than appreciative of your “compliments”.

“What’s this?” He pulled at your left hand, just now seeing the candy cane still clutched in your palm. You barely remembered you’d had it, too concerned with letting Angel get you alone.

“Chucky gave it to me.”

He took the red and white candy and pulled at the wrapper, removing it far easier than you would’ve been able to. He eyed the item closely and seemed to get an idea because his eyes bled into yours, the sizzling tension now undeniably boiling over.

He held out the long end towards you, near you mouth. You didn’t need to be told what to do. You wrapped your lips around the candy, sucking at the flavor. You stared up at Angel through your made-up lashes as you gently tongued the stick, the innuendo more than obvious. His breathing hitched when you took more of the candy down your throat, your mouth nearly meeting his fingers clutching the other end.

“Fuck…” He cursed once you finally released it from your clutches. He let the end dance over your lips, plucking your bottom one down and watching it fall back into place.

He pulled you to him with his other hand and captured your mouth. His tongue immediately sought entrance and you obliged. He tangled himself up with you, tasting the peppermint that now seeped from your mouth. Your hands gripped his kutte, desperate to feel his body pressed against yours.

You both pulled away, chests heaving. You could feel the heat around your mouth, the scratches of his beard burning your flesh. There were remnants of your lipstick smeared on his bearded lips, the sight fueling a possessive streak in you. He brought the candy cane up to his own mouth and sucked, intertwining the two of you.

“Come on, baby…” He grasped your hand and directed you to one of the cushioned benches. “Sit back.”

You had a weakness for Angel’s commanding nature in the bedroom. The way he would demand things of you while never expecting a response made you feverish. He knew he couldn’t get away with that treatment outside of the bedroom, but he more than catered to that desire when necessary. And he did it verywell.

You followed his lead as he gently sat you back against the cushion, kneeling in front of you. Your heartbeat accelerated, centering right between your thighs. His hands widened your legs and pushed your dress up, propping your heeled boots on his shoulders. He stared up at you with such intensity that you had to squirm against the seat to alleviate the ache. He caught the action and snickered.

“Relax, dulce. I got you.”

You nodded and bit your lip when his hands shifted your dress over your hips to expose the festive red lace panties you were wearing. You were exposed to him and you relished the unbridled lust that oozed from his pores and out onto you.

“Goddamn, you look good.” He swept a finger over your clothed slit, causing you to jerk. The material was damp, your body more than ready for his touch. “Feel good too.” He mumbled, finger still tracing your swollen lips.

You let out a whimper, his teasing having a more powerful effect than usual. You rocked your hips against his touch, encouraging him to explore you further. Angel was an impatient man, and while he was a master at teasing, he ran out of patience just as fast. He pulled the lace down your thighs and off, flinging the fabric somewhere behind him. You tugged at his thick locks and arched your back when his mouth finally connected with your opening. His hands split your thighs further apart, making room for his eager mouth. You threw your head back and moaned, feeling Angel lick up your walls. There was a slight cooling sensation and you realized it was the peppermint that lingered on his lips. The result felt amazing against your heated skin.

“Jesus, Angel…” You moaned when his lips attached to your clit. His face was buried in you, your slick coating him, and yet you felt as if he wasn’t close enough.

He pulled away with a smirk and suddenly brought the candy cane into your line of vision. You struggled to center back into reality and not on the neediness of your hunger.

“You trust me, baby?”

“Of course.” You answered without hesitation.

He nodded and moved back down to your spread thighs. “Lemme know if you want me to stop.”

You were about to chastise him for making you wait when you felt the pressure of something hard at your entrance. It was small, but firm and it slid into you easily. A low moan fell from your lips as it shallowly entered you and then traveled back out and up to your clit. Angel blew on your skin and the realization hit you. He was fucking you with the candy cane. The minty tingle left in its wake made you scratch at his scalp, unsure if you wanted more or not. The combination of dueling hot and cold sensations had goosebumps breaking out onto your flesh.

“You good?” He asked with a gentle lick to your weeping pussy.

You nodded, unable to find your voice as he continued to assault your clit with the candy.

“Want me to stop?”

“No.”

His mouth launched into a frenzied feeding as he opened you up to him. His tongue dived in and out of you, making your thighs clench around his head. That rush of lava-like heat started to consume your entire body as he worked you over, never stopping. His goal was clear as he sped up and you cried out when his mouth became too much. You stiffened and shook with each shock as you sailed through feelings of love, adoration, and immense pleasure.

“Shit, mi amor…” Angel rasped with amazement as he stared down at your now lax body. He didn’t let you rest as he pulled you into an upright position, locking your lips against his. You tasted yourself mixed with the sweetness of the candy and you found yourself wanting more.

His hands gripped your thighs and lifted you up, switching your positions. He now occupied your spot on the bench while you sat astride his lap, your needy pussy seeking out is hardened cock through his jeans. You pushed down on him, taking pleasure in the way he growled into your mouth. He began lifting your dress over your head and you aided him in removing it. His mouth immediately sought out your pebbled nipples through the red lace of your bra. You pulled him to you, your hands back to tugging at his hair.

He unclasped your bra and pulled it down and off your shoulders. You mirrored his actions by pulling off his kutte and unbuttoning his flannel. His tanned skin beckoned you, the black ink only fueling your want. You ran your nails down his chest, not hard enough to hurt but enough to let him know just how much you needed him in that moment.

“Take what you want, baby.” He taunted, directing your hands to his belt buckle.

You didn’t waste any time, pulling the buckle and button from its confines. He shifted his hips, helping you release his aching cock. At the sight of him you could feel your walls literally pulse, the phantom sensation of him buried inside you making you clamp down on nothing. You licked your hand, coating your palm with saliva. Cum was already leaking from his tip and you used it to pump his rigid cock.

“Fuck,” He cursed with his head thrown back. You took the opportunity to leave bruising kisses on his neck, suckling at the skin and making your way up to his ear lobe. You gently pulled at the appendage with your teeth, feeling his hips buck up into yours.

“Ride me.”

You followed his breathless request and slowly slipped him inside you. Your walls greedily accepted him, seating him inside of you perfectly. You both moaned in unison once you’d taken him in fully, his pulse synchronizing with yours. You sat in his lap, unmoving and soaking up the feel of him. He craned his mouth up, seeking yours. You met him in a slower, more tender kiss than the ones previous. He palmed your ass, rolling your hips against his. You took the hint and began moving, letting him slide in and out of you at a leisurely pace.

“Fuck, keep going.” He panted, fingertips gripping your hips and ass tightly. His mouth moved across your chest and collarbone, his hips attempting to meet yours.

The whine of the seat bench beneath you began to fill the space as you moved faster, chasing the fireworks that were sure to come. The trailer began to rock as you repeatedly fucked yourself on Angel’s cock. The girth of him burned, but the orgasmic bliss that came with it soon overpowered.

“Angel, right there…shit.” You rubbed at your clit as he fucked up into you, white lights starting to dance behind your lids, though that could’ve been the twinkling lights decorating the clubhouse that reflected in through the curtains.

“You gonna cum?” He nipped at your chin, his pace not letting up.

“Mmhm…” You moaned, biting into your lip to keep your enthusiastic screams at bay.

In the next moment, Angel had your hips halted in place above is cock as he rammed repeatedly against your cervix. You gripped his forearms, keeping your balance as he ravaged you. Your whole body reacted to the shift and when his hand manipulated your clit, you came undone.

You acted on impulse as you held Angel to you, gripped tightly in your quaking embrace. You no longer cared about being quiet as you moaned and whimpered, careening through space. He talked you through your orgasm, mumbling expletives and how beautiful you looked with his cock inside you. All of it added to the fire. All of it made both your heart and pussy flutter.

“Mi amor,” He called, his voice still sounding distant in your ringing ears.

You buried your face into his neck as he chased his own end. He grunted, his rings digging into your skin as he finally came. Thick warmth filled you, the feeling of being complete finally achieved. You watched his features twist in ecstasy and in a flash they were relaxed, his body following suit.

The distant laughter and music could be heard over the lot, the party still very much going strong. You both caressed and held each other, not in any hurry to detach. Angel touched you with a softness that made you smile lazily, the leftover oxytocin making you feel more connected to him. He mirrored your expression, caressing your neck and cheeks.

“Te quiero.”

“I love you too.” You confessed, shifting a strand of hair that had fallen against his forehead.

“Fuck...” He sighed tiredly. “Someone’s gonna come looking for us soon.”

“We can pick this back up at home.” You replied with a sleepy smile and wink. You shifted off his lap, hissing at the loss of him. His cum started to slip past your lips instantly and you rushed to find your panties.

Angel found them on the counter and helped you step into them, your legs still feeling unsteady. He smirked up at you once they cleared your hips, a lone finger sliding against your crotch.

“Quit, Angel.” You whimpered, pushing his hand away. He laughed, enjoying how sensitive you always got after sex. He was already dressed and pulling his kutte back on while you slipped your bra onto your shoulders and turned away from him. His fingers clasped the garment in place, hands smoothing down your back. He placed a soft kiss to your shoulder and reached for your dress. You took it from him and pulled it over your head, walking to the small vanity mirror above the sink to check your reflection.

After making sure your hair and makeup were still presentable, you turned to face Angel. He had the candy cane back in his hands, eyeing the sweet with a wistfulness.

“Where’d that come from?” You asked, having suspected the candy to have gotten lost during your activities.

“The table.” He motioned to the flimsy piece of furniture, the thing looking like it was on its last leg, literally.

You both moved towards the door, Angel opening it for you and taking your hand to help you down the steps. You took in gulps of the crisp night air, glad to be out of the stifling heat of the trailer. The thing surely smelled of sex and you made a mental note to air it out before you left.

“Don’t you think you should throw it away?” You gestured to the candy cane as you both walked back up to the clubhouse.

“Nah,” Angel shook his head and popped the thing right back into his mouth, a self-satisfying smile lighting up his face. “Think we should keep it. You can use it on me later.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you.

You laughed as heat warmed your face. Thinking on where that candy cane had been moments before and how much you enjoyed it made you look away from his mischievous expression, the desire already making a fierce comeback.

“Who knew candy canes could be so erotic?” You questioned playfully.

The moment was interrupted by the clubhouse door opening as you both climbed the steps, EZ walking out with an unreadable look on his face. He took a moment to look between the two of you. Angel was sucking on the candy cane, suppressing a smirk, while you tried hard not to meet the younger sibling’s eyes. His gaze shifted to the trailer and he sighed, head shaking.

“Are you guys serious?”

“What?” Angel attempted in an act of innocence. It wasn’t believable.

“You find ‘em, boy scout?” Coco called from behind EZ, cigarette propped between his fingers. He joined you on the porch, eyes taking in the situation. He appeared to find the whole thing comical, leading you to believe that you did not look as put together and unassuming as you’d initially thought when exiting the trailer.

“You owe me.” EZ deadpanned to Coco. You watched in astonishment as Coco cursed and then reached into his pocket for what looked like a twenty dollar bill, begrudgingly handing it off to him.

“What the fuck?” Angel questioned, eyes jumping between the two men.

“I bet boy scout you guys left to handle business. He said you were handling it out here. He won.” Coco explained rather nonchalantly.

Angel scoffed out a laugh, male ego now inflated, while you rolled your eyes. “Are we really that predictable?” You asked.

“Yeah.” Both men replied in unison. They laughed and turned to go back inside to the party.

You went to follow when a hand stopped you. Angel tugged and motioned up, your eyes catching the mistletoe hanging from the wooden beam. You smiled and let him pull you in for a more PG-rated kiss than the series of impassioned ones moments before.

“Merry fucking Christmas, querida.” He whispered against your lips, dark eyes conveying emotion he didn’t have to voice.

“Merry fucking Christmas, baby.”

[penguintreblemaker]

For my fellow tumblrstake peeps, since we all could probably use a laugh right now, I present to you a compilation of Peak Singles Ward Moments™️ my friend V and I like to call :

The List

- The first time I attended a YSA ward and the Sunday school lesson was on marriage

- The infamous Valentine’s Day institute lesson of (as my friend V put it) “let’s talk about gay”

- V: “I told you (bishopric member’s wife) would make it over here in 30 seconds to ask who the guy sitting next to me is.” (It was her boyfriend at the time)

Me: *looks at my phone* “It was 28.”

- When discussing moms breastfeeding with a guy friend (A) human women aren’t goats A!”

- “If I could get sealed to you as a friend, I would” - A, to V

- Me: (While V couldn’t see bc medical stuff) remember, Jesus would want you to take care of yourself”

V: “Jesus would want me to *poses 💃* dance”

- The human Christmas tree decorating contest at the ward party ending in a tie and one of the sister missionaries declaring “you’re all God’s children!”

- V mentioning that a guy in the ward was nice to her and the Bishop telling her she can start taking temple prep after she gets her patriarchal blessing (she’s a convert)

- “Who needs a sorority when you have Relief Society?” (Full disclosure, that one was me before joining SAI)

- (Beginning of an 8 hour drive to the Philly temple) Bishop: “so ladies, what do you think of the study that shows men are too scared to ask out women?”

- “Did anyone cute baptize you at the temple?”

V: “Bishop, they were 17.”

- Someone: “one of my friends has a crush on so and so’s brother.” Bishop, imitating an owl: “do you wanna tell me this person’s name?”

- The time V was getting interviewed for her patriarchal blessing and learned the church has cows and a pasta factory from bishop

- Me, after hearing over dinner at Ike’s that V’s new boss knows Bishop: wow, the Mormon world sure is small! *looks over at another table as people get up from it* speaking of which, *waves to fellow music ed student in the ward*

- The Sunday before Valentine’s Day when Sunday school was held in the chapel and suddenly we all went back to middle school because the guys all sat on the opposite side of the room from the women

-Thoughts on the story of Zachaeus:

1. About the people judging him: bold of you to assume you’re not sinners yourselves

2. “You’ve got a little eye in your beam there.”

- The Cinco de Mayo munch and mingle where the taco meat was seasoned with salt and pepper.

- Bishop talking about how he met his wife when he was a Priest and she was a Beehive, and how he’d tell the young men “look at those beehives, one of them might be the one.”

- One of the stake leaders telling the story of someone going to the store to get a pair of Levi’s and being confused about how many fits, cuts, and styles there were and likening it to the gospel

- All of the jokes about it being mentioned that the purpose of the YSA stake is “to give young single adults the opportunity to meet with one another and enjoy the blessings of camaraderie that come with gathering together” and how we all know what that means (this was said when a bishopric member was announcing that they’re planning to make a new YSA ward in the area)

[cainfm]

『BILL SKARSGARD ❙ NONBINARY』 ⟿ looks like CAIN ROMANOV is here for THEIR SENIOR year as a LITERATURE student. THEY are 25 years old & known to be RIGHTEOUS, TRUE, EVASIVE & GUARDED. They’re living in MORIS, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ JAMES. 21. EST. SHE/THEY.

hdsjnf hello all ... it is james again ... here with another ... replacing noelle with cain bt it’s fine im fine. i’ve hit muse limit u wn’t hear frm me again ... so hit tht like button .. this isnt the best intro ive done bt mostly bc im just kinda like ... taking an old one n rewriting it as i go

TW CULTS, HEROIN USE / ADDICTION, DRUG ADDICTION / USE, ABUSE, PSYCHOLOGICAL / EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, PTSD, ANXIETY, TRAUMA.

aesthetics.

dangling limbs from tree branches, yellowed book pages, opened bottles of vintage wine, oversized sweaters and deep under eyes, bleached denim, worn leather gloves, cat hair against black cloth, fields of wheat, broken windows, descending staircases, tight-lipped smiles during public appearances, golden skies, light spilling from windows, stumbling over one’s own words, wire-framed beds, linens, wool scarves, making the wrong decisions; running, from others and yourself.

basic info.

full name: cain alexei romanov

nickname(s): n/a

b.o.d. - feb 19th, pisces :) happy birthday!

label(s): the connard (previously), the escapist, the facade, the fallen, the lothario (previously), the pariah, the phoenix, the puppeteer (previously), the sybarite, etc.

height: 6′4″ ... bruv.

hometown: stratford, connecticut

sexuality: bisexual uwu?

pinterest

stats

inspired by: i feel like i did ... have an inspiration for him but i don’t ... remember ... so ur not getting this one ... i might edit this later if smth pops into my head but. alas.

biography.

born to connecticut senator vaughn romanov and well known philanthropist adelaide romanov, they were born into a life of privilege in a very prominent new england family. they’re the eldest of five in a very nuclear, picture perfect, preppy chic family.

was brought up to be a class a, outstanding, perfect citizen. golden child to the all american family (willfully ignoring the fact that his father came from russian immigrants). cain listened, obeyed, never strayed outside the lines.

it was always intended for cain to take on after their father, to follow in his footsteps and become a politician too. there were several expectations for them, including joining model un, debate, deca, splitting time between soccer, track, basketball, lacrosse, becoming class president, and all while maintaining a valedictorian - worthy gpa.

even volunteered on the weekends at homeless shelters and food banks, proving to everybody in their community just how much of a gem they were, darling, perfect member of society.

always eager as a child, eager for approval, eager to impress and wow and dazzle authorities and adults alike - cain never really had a problem with any of it? always attended church on sundays and sometimes even wednesdays. participated in family dinners and christmas photoshoots and new years eve parties, easter egg hunts and family reunions.

born and raised in stratford, super close to lovell to the point where it’d always been expected that the romanov children would simply just go to radcliffe, as did their parents. their home in stratford is a big, fancy, seven bedroom eight bath house with two fireplaces and an expansive dining room. no pool, but a sturdy treehouse made by scratch.

however. their model citizen persona was just that, a persona - a charade. in the community and to his family, cain was a hardworking citizen who upheld standards, a leader. to classmates and peers, from elementary to college - cain was the devil themself.

arrogant, harrowing, an outright bully who tore down others when they felt like it, often unprovoked. they were the senator’s son, and a rich one at that - rules never applying because they simply never existed for them, the upmost privilege because of who their family happened to be and their place in society. tattlers of their behavior faced far more consequence than cain ever did, or would.

the sort of person who’d genuinely look down at someone if they had less than them - a narcissistic dickhead who cared about two or three people, tops, outside of their family. was never physically violent, nor did they raise their voice, but that’s what made them all the worse. made them all the scarier. spewed classist bullshit with ease and was addicted to the power high it gave them.

their only redeeming quality was their protectiveness over their family - never the best person, but family is family, and they thought it ought’d to be protected.

went into political science and business to please their father, mainly, every step they made - every path cain went down, every choice from the electives they took in high school to the brand of shoes they wore, was to build them into the ideal presidential candidate.

probably joined a frat though cain never participated in parties too often, known for keeping their composure even when others resorted to violence, or got too drunk, or caused any public commotion, because they didn’t like to leave a bad image for the press. did their drugs in private but left nothing to the imagination, publicly.

but alas. during college, two very important series of events occurred.

seeking thrills, searching for fun in all the wrong places - cain became a middle-man between dealers and producers. never dealt it, and never produced it, but simply transported it between one another; the less everybody knew about each other the better. it was always a very hushed operation. one that they could’ve profited much off of, though money was never the motive for them.

and then he met earl and may meyers, fellow volunteers at a thanksgiving food drive; an older couple immediately drawn to cain, reasonable considering just who their father was, and cain to them. they can’t tell you what about the couple was so appealing - the air around them was something else entirely; some called it unhinged, others would call it comforting. but they were kind folks, down to earth - very religious, and very warmhearted. liked his name, a lot - like in the bible, they’d say, and laugh, and pat his arm. they would say, on occasion, that they reminded them of their late son.

it’d happened towards the end of their junior year, a few years after they’d gotten involved in the drug business - and the meyers were volunteering more and more, always at the same places as cain. the same times, too, as if they were learning his schedule. in retrospect - it was odd, but cain’d never suspected a thing. they kept talking, and it became a genuine friendship - a secured vote in the next election.

it only took a few months into this that they’d begun to talk about religion more. the sin of wealth, and god choosing only a select few when he cleanses the earth. only the worthiest souls. they’d eventually get into the rhythm of telling cain they were special - that they could see they’d be selected, see it in their aura, in their dreams, god sending them messages, etc. most would find it to be absolutely ... bonkers.

but it was oddly appealing to cain - like, maybe i am being constrained by capitalism. maybe i am disappointing god - aren’t i a devoted follower? it felt nearly ridiculous, but it seeped into their mind. psychological manipulation, lasting over months and cain unsuspecting. as if they could ever be the one manipulated. but the meyers could ask cain to jump, and they’d simply say - how high?

soon enough, earl and may told them that they were moving. that there’d been so many more like them and that it was time to join them, time to prepare - to get ready for the rapture. cain held off at first, finishing up their first term of their senior year and their life planned right before their eyes. everything they’d ever worked for. their loyal companions and close-knit family, their side-business that’d only gotten stronger - a long-term girlfriend and the engagement ring that burnt in their pocket, made their heart beat twice as fast at the very thought. still the same as before, cruel without a cause, but still surrounded by those who loved them - who could find something in them to love.

but a month into their senior year, cain had a sudden change of heart. they were ready, now, if not now then never later. all because of a third event. a surprise. a shock. a betrayal.

they had discovered that they were not their father’s child - not at all, not even by an inch. they were someone else’s, completely. their mother had broken down and cracked, after a particularly straining christmas party. the discussion was long, and the heartbreak only grew. the anger only grew. the hurt - it grew. more and more, with each pitiful sob their mother gave them. it was a mistake - a one night stand in a fit of petty anger in the very early stages of their marriage. and only cain knew - like they had to carry this weight, now, that they never asked to have.

it was the kind of information that broke a person. cain idolized their parents, done everything they’d ever asked - ever expected, and beyond, let them mold them like putty into whatever form they wanted. only to find out that in the end, it didn’t matter. it never mattered, if cain wasn’t the blood child of vaughn. if their mother - a woman who hadn’t a bad bone in her body, was nothing but a cheat and a liar.

cain unraveled.

they spent the first week getting into an altercation with near anybody who looked at them wrong. physical, usually - though arguments arose frequently as well. with no explanation, only thrown fists - often drunk, or high, or sober too - it never mattered. they spent a night in county jail, it’d gotten so bad. it seemed to have no end.

right until new years, just after midnight, when cain had disappeared without a word. it was treated like a missing persons case, though there was no evidence of foul play or kidnapping, and not much could be done about it.

BEGINNING OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS

the only people who knew of cain’s whereabouts were the meyers - because they had left together. a last minute decision that, if they had only waited a simple minute longer, would’ve never happened. a mistake they desperately wished they could take back. a mistake that led to another event - maybe the most important one of them all.

they’d gone only hours away from stratford, and lovell, the border between new york and connecticut and not as far as cain had initially thought, but deep, deep into the woods. that was where the cult’d been. they wore white linens and cotton, but never mixed. technology banned, prayers and daily chores. it was natural, at first. for the first three months, that was.

it could’ve been grand. it was peaceful, and mind-clearing, and they treated cain as if their birth was a sign from the angels. cain come to undo his past. a potential leader. but the longer they stayed, the more apparent it became that they weren’t all that the cult had wanted, so desperately, to believe. once they began to slip up, once members became displeased - that’s when the punishments began to occur.

sometimes once a week, but sometimes - and, later, much more so, multiple. the memories are suppressed, for the most part - but there are some things they simply can’t - the hands, they can’t forget. pulling, and tugging, and gripping - begging, asking him to repent, please, repent. their head held underwater, counting seconds until their vision’d eventually darken and go out, only to be pulled out gasping and sobbing. these memories stay - these memories repeat themselves, like a record stuck on repeat, days blurring into one another.

when they tried to fight back - they were subdued. heroin was the first step. little by little, everyday - enough to leave them in a high they wouldn’t remember; enough to burn a hole in their memory. and with these dimming memories, cain’d begin to sneak paper and pencil into their living arrangement, their room, writing everyday. wrote as much as they could remember from home - about their family, their life before it all - the people they loved. they couldn’t remember what they’d written, some days.

and when those notes were found, bound by thread taken from their own clothing to form a shabby book - that’d been the final straw. dragged, kicking and screaming - mind-numbingly high, into place. the twisted reenactment, retelling of cain’s demise. how exactly he’d gotten his scar. it would’ve been near perfect, if they had only stayed still and let them brand the mark into his forehead. but instead - they settled, eventually, for the chest. then - the left cain to die in the middle of the woods. in the middle of nowhere. no trails or campsites to follow, nothing at all. nothing but trees. nothing but his notes and the clothes on their back. they hadn’t even known what day it was - almost forgotten the year, too.

cain should’ve died there, but cain got up. and they ran. and ran. and ran. until they hit something, eventually. a road. it’d been pure luck that they’d found a car near immediately afterwards, whose driver wasn’t doubling as a murderer, who took them to the hospital - and who gave cain that chance to live. they were found on new years, a full cycle - a full year in the cult that’d changed their life.

END OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS. PROCEED WITH CAUTION. STILL MENTIONS OF TRAUMA / MENTAL HEALTH / RECOVERY / ADDICTION BEYOND THIS POINT.

after being reunited with their family in the hospital - everything went by very fast. they couldn’t recognize their youngest sibling, but they also couldn’t remember why they’d left in the first place. couldn’t remember the name of their girlfriend, but the color of her hair and the way she smelled. they couldn’t give answers to their actions.

and after being put into therapy and recovery for their addiction - that’s when they find out that their father’s a presidential candidate, that they had been - that they used cain’s disappearance as a story for the press, one to garner votes. their return is national news, and their public opinion skyrockets. it’s supposed to be glorious, and a miracle, a blessing - but cain feels restrained. confined to the role they’d always been expected to play - expected to get up and continue with their life, as if nothing had happened. 

but nothing didn’t happen - everything happened, and cain’s different now, vastly so - no longer who they thought they were. they change their major to literature, abandon politics. they get some cats, start working at the library, and they put on some leather gloves - their method of staying away, of keeping a comfortable distance. they are different, now, and simply only wish to focus on their recovery.

personality.

they’re no longer who they once were. a year of trauma does things to a person - and with memory loss that weighs heavy on their mind, they are near completely different. they remember parts of their old personality, their old lifestyle - enough to know they want to be better. they’re convinced that it’s karma, what happened to them. for being who they were - acting the way they did. just ... a bunch of self-blame.

even with the massive ego, cain’s always been a quiet person. but now - now cain’s even quieter. kinder, if not a little sarcastic, like a relic from the past. they’re distant - but it’s one of fear, restrictive and tense - not one made out of their own comfort. 

smokes medical marijuana but rarely drinks ... as if that’d make a difference. in an effort to beat their heroin addiction, they’ve turned to prescriptions instead.

like i mentioned ... cain has four cats. it’s basically their entire personality. two of them were from before their disappearance, but two are new to their little (school-approved) family. there is: frank (big chungus when yelled. white and gray), brock (orange. fluffy. stoic. devours food), shoelace (black furred, missing an eye and half an ear), and crunchwrap supreme (crunch for short. calico with bent ears). yes, they have photos of their cats in their wallet.

cain’s memory is fucked - like, really fucked. they forget a lot of things. short term, long term. it’s a constant struggle. they managed to keep their notes from the cult, so those help - but not always. they forget dates and names and faces and events. sometimes they wake up and don’t know where they are. they don’t sleep often, anyways. with the trauma came night terrors, and in an attempt to avoid them they don’t ... sleep often. only a few hours a night if they can withstand it, because it’s frankly terrible.

they suffer from severe touch aversion. skin contact with anybody, of any sort, is enough to send cain into a full-blown panic attack. they were leather gloves more often than not in an attempt to combat this disadvantage, without hindering their dexterity too much. even with clothes, they’re not the biggest fan of physical contact. it won’t send him into a panic attack, but they visibly flinch away. they’re very clear from the get-go, if someone is too close to them, that they don’t like physical contact.

dealing with ptsd and attends therapy every week. their therapist recommended that they keep writing their notes, after reviewing them himself, so cain does. they keep an entire journal where they write, and sketch a little, because it helps them cope and de-stress. it means a lot to them, actually.

also dealing with ptsd and attends therapy every week - therapist recommended he kept writing after looking at his notes - so he does, keeps an entire journal where they write and like … sketch a little, because it helps them cope. means more to them than it would seem. but, unfortunately, part of their coping involves getting far too involved in their own mini-investigation of the cult they’d been part of. when the cult was tracked back to where cain’d been brought, they were already gone - and cain wants to know where. wants to know how to find them. wants justice, vengeance. wants nobody else to get hurt from them.

pretty blunt ... won’t go out of their way to announce that hey, they were part of a cult, and that’s why they’re gone and that’s why that’s the way they are now - but they also won’t lie about it, if the topic comes up in conversation. they don’t like delusions, don’t like secrets, nor do they like unnecessary attention.

being at radcliffe makes cain anxious because - well, they’re surrounded by people they’ve been doing wrong by for years now and they can’t even remember which ones. who, what, when, why - distant memories, if they’re even there at all. is constantly trying to figure out how to redeem themselves. they’d leave, if it hadn’t been their parents’ assistance that they stay there. so that someone always has an eye on them. 

but like ...they screwed over a lot of people when they left. from plugs / customers to their ex-girlfriend, who they are, undeniably, still in love with (you can’t forget that feeling) - to their friends. like. everybody, pretty much KBJNSDFKSNLD

is often pretty high ... i’d say it’s just the medical weed but. alas :/ take a guess :/

hates cars & swimming & crowds. hates feeling trapped and will avoid it whenever possible. doesn’t want to be seen as unsociable, but it’s difficult. 

they ... have a tendency to run away when they’re overwhelmed. likes to climb trees because they’re tall enough to. there’s a tree outside of their window that they climb out to frequently, even though it’s like a ~safety hazard~ or whatever. just really likes to hide out. 

used to be in perkins when they last attended radcliffe, but they gave their spot to someone else and that was like - 100% fine w/ cain tbh. lives alone in moris now.

feels the need to redeem themself ... to like, everybody. like, they want to avoid conflict and be a better person, but it’s hard, and they don’t necessarily like confrontation either - and not everybody believes that cain’s changed. it wouldn’t be surprising if people were suspicious of cain, for whatever reason, because they don’t ... really have the best track record anymore.

developed a stutter as one of the results from their trauma. their voice is damaged from screaming and they’re self-conscious about it, but they’re working on it because there’s more important things to worry about. in general, cain looks ... gaunt, too thin, and generally sickly.

repeating senior year ... fr obvious reasons ... and probably won’t graduate anytime soon because they’ve changed their major so late.

can still hold a conversation & they’re not really afraid of socialization. it just takes a toll on them. they’re pretty lowkey, as a person. soft, sorta. quiet but they won’t be an asshole (on purpose). they like people! just. very low energy.

so like ... tldr ... not an asshole anymore ... dealing with a lot of trauma ... trying to be a good person ... yes ...

wanted connections.

locals... people they’ve grown up with their entire life. people they’ve wronged, people who idolized him, envied him, despised him, etc. 

enemies... would love for a bunch of these just. a hoard of people who fucking hate cain. because it fits the bill. they could’ve bullied them, or wronged them, whatever. anything works. let’s make it happen.

exes... that they’ve dumped... old hookups, ex-friends, people they got into an argument with or fought before they disappeared last year...

ex girlfriend... that connection wld b rly neat!! i have it up as a wc rn but we can take that down ... will be holding intense american idol - esque auditions. remember that cain ws a fckn classist pig and probably only dated people who were also rich with influential families. (unless u present a very good case to me ... then maybe ... perhaps ...)

family friends... family rivals... people he knows mostly thru their family.

redeemable... people they’re trying to redeem themself to... trying to prove their worth, and that they’re a better person now, etc. etc.

old clients... :) angry clients. that they left in the dust.

perkins... people he knew from perkins ... old pals or maybe enemies idk he was pretty insufferable ... people he used to go to fancy parties with sometimes ...

angery... people so so so so fucking pissed at cain, for whatever reason.

reconciliation... reconnecting... used to be friends and we can be friends again :) and i will be better this time! i’m a slut for slowburns, especially slowburn friendships ... enemies to friends ... now THAT is sexy.

victims... of bullying ... :/ of their bullying specifically.

sof...t... wholesome content ... nothing but soft, understanding friendships ... or developing friendships ... make them feel welcomed again... forgive them...

an..g.st... friends to enemies. enemies to bigger enemies. miscommunication. betrayal. whatever u want.

no hookups!!! ... please only previous encounters. nothing in the present. because it just wldn’t make sense.

unless... eyes emoji. H DSJLFJKS just kidding! i’d accept MAYBE some kind of sexual tension but like ... the sort that hurts, because it just Cannot Happen (i will not let it happen). or maybe a fun, casual sexting thing but like. nothing physical. pleasthe.

fuck politics!... mayhaps, they hate mr. romanov and his politics or smth. he’s probably corrupt in some way, so! go at it!

aggression... i feel like a lot of the conversations between cain n other ppl start out rly ... angry bc theyre Mad. at them.

ok it’s bed time please plot with me. 

[niccage]

bc things look best when asked from an ask ILL PROMPT MYSELF!! "i’m sick on halloween but told you to go have fun at the party anyway but instead you surprised me with a blanket fort, tons of candy and all my favourite scary movies" newt/geiszler GO

what a solid request thank you @newtgeiszlur 

— 

To Hermann Gottlieb, falling ill on Halloween morning was hardly a “worst case scenario,” nor would it usually have been of particular concern to him at all in years prior. In times of both earthly isolationist peace and great extraterrestrial war, Halloween had never been of much interest to him, and you would never catch him donning a silly costume at a work party while sipping plastic cups of a spiked beverage whose flavor could only be described as bottom shelf vodka and Red 40 while 50 other full grown adults did the Thriller dance on a cafeteria floor. No, missing such an opportunity would normally not be a loss for Hermann Gottlieb. 

To Newt Geiszler, however, the only thing worse than himself falling ill on Halloween morning was his quasi-secret sometimes-boyfriend slash lab partner slash couples costume co-conspirator getting caught up with a nasty case of the flu in the early hours of October 31st, and yes, these were both worst case scenarios, and the latter was currently underway as they spoke, as he had been notified by a message on his laptop from a concerned Mako Mori that had stopped by his counterpart’s room in the preceding morning hours. 

Newt had just walked in the door to Hermann’s Shatterdome apartment to see his partner in bed, swallowed by a massive white comforter and surrounded by menthol lozenge wrappers and real, bonafide handkerchiefs (because of course he would be too prim for Kleenex, Newt briefly considered) that had certainly seen better days. What appeared to be vintage Barabara Walters clips played at full blast on the small, crooked television screen that hung from his wall, though Hermann didn’t seem to pay it much mind, although he wasn’t looking at Newt, either, for that matter. His locked gaze seemed to only concentrate on the grey ceiling above him.

“I don’t even think I realized you had a TV in here,” Newt said, looking for the remote to turn down the volume. Not that the noise bothered him, but he knew that if healthy Hermann didn’t like any loud or obnoxious noises save Wagner’s symphonies, then sick Hermann probably wasn’t enjoying this, either.

“Neither did I,” grumbled Hermann as he slowly shifted his head to look at Newt. “Mako turned it on this morning when she stopped by to drop off the briefings from the pilot meetings last evening. I believe she thought it would help, but it seems as though the programming gets louder the closer we find ourselves to the noon hour and I haven’t been able to place the remote.”

Newt wasn’t having much luck placing it either, so he resorted to shutting the screen off manually before he turned his attention solely to Hermann. Though Hermann had perhaps never been the vision of youth, his face looked grayer than Newt had ever seen it with the exception of his nose, which held all of Hermann’s vibrance and redness within itself. He had clearly not had the energy to shower that morning and his hair still showed all his sleep in the way each strand went this way and that. Bedhead was a rare sight on Hermann, as Newt always slept later than him, so he tried to take as much of it in as he could while still maintaining the plot, which was that Hermann was sick and it was, very importantly, Halloween morning.

“How are you feeling?” asked Newt uncomfortably, knowing the answer already but not wanting to face the reality.

Hermann stared blankly at him while he removed a white handkerchief with blue trim from his bedside table and brought it daintily to his nose. “Wonderful,” he said dryly.

“So, should I assume you’ll be out of the lab all day, then?” Newt continued, awkwardly scratching at his pant leg while looking across the overall barren room at Hermann in his down feather cocoon. 

“I would imagine that would be a yes, Newton,” Hermann sighed, clearly failing to understand the point of this conversation. “And all other activities that would have fallen within the jurisdiction of today.” 

That was all Newt needed to hear for his face to fall, unwillingly and unintentionally, and he knew Hermann could see it, as his own expression untightened and turned to one of almost guilt. “I’m sorry,” Hermann continued. “I know you were looking forward to this evening,” referring to the Halloween party that Tendo had been planning since early July that featured a confirmed guest list of nearly every employee at the Shatterdome and was considered to be the biggest and booziest event of the year, save they unexpectedly close the breach or something similar before January. Not only had Newt been talking about it during their lab hours nonstop since who knows when, but he had even convinced Hermann to enter the costume contest with him as an obviously platonic Mulder and Scully. Newt had had his ginger wig sitting on his bedroom sink for months and had probably treated it more carefully and lovingly than he did his own (fucking awesome, if he did say so himself) hair. 

Newt couldn’t bother trying to hide his disappointment on his face once it had already come out, so he just shrugged and gave a hint of a forced smile. “It’s okay, I promise. I can find something else to go as that doesn’t require a second person,” said Newt, and he really was trying to not sound as dramatic as possible but fuck, he really had been excited about this. He’d known that with the track he’d put together for the DJ to play when it was their turn to be up on stage paired with the sheer screen accuracy of the costumes that he had put together for him and Hermann, they really could have won that shit tonight, and now he was going to have to put together something last minute that just won’t be as good. Without Hermann. 

Hermann weakly beckoned for Newt to sit beside him on his twin-sized mattress, to which Newt obliged. The closer Newt was, the sicker he could see that Hermann really was (not that he’d ever doubted him, but a scientist can hope, right?) and brought the back of his hand to his forehead. “Do I feel very hot to you?” said Hermann, mustering a smile with eyes that clearly showed how guilty he felt for ruining Newt’s evening. 

“You know you’re always hot to me, babe,” said Newt, who was never one to resist an opportunity. Hermann began to chuckle but instead began hacking on something lodged in his throat. “Do I need to get you down to medical, though?” he continued, “Or like, get you a doctor up here or something?” 

Hermann quickly shook his head to this while his coughing receded. “No, no, no,” he said, “I know I may not look very good but I do know this is no more than simply the flu, which I have dealt with many times in the course of my life and do not need to bother a medic about. Nor,” he continued between soft coughs, “need you concern yourself with me. I know you still have work to do in the lab today and that you’re going to skip all of it to focus on making a new costume for yourself tonight so that you can win that thing you’re so concerned about.” 

Newt’s heart warmed at the way that Hermann pretended to not know exactly it was that he had entered them into this evening and he brought his hand gently to Hermann’s warm cheek as his fellow scientist shivered and curled more into his comforter. “Okay, okay,” he said, before he leaned down to kiss Hermann’s forehead as delicately as he could muster and got up to leave the room and let Hermann rest. “I’ll stop by later, yeah? Before I go tonight?”

Hermann nodded, pulling the blanket up tighter to his neck. “Please do, my darling. I’d like to see what awful thing you muster up for this evening.” 

This got Newt to grin as he went to step out the door back into the apartment hallway. “Oh, you know it, babe.”

—

Hermann spent the following hours in and out of deep sleep, with his moments of reality largely consisting of blowing his nose, guzzling down the hot green tea that continually and magically appeared by his bedside every time he woke up (Newt was certainly one to hold onto, moments like this reminded him,) and staring at the grey ceiling of his apartment while fighting back feelings of both terrible congestion and infinite guilt for ruining Newt’s evening. Never would he have thought in his life that he would resent having a genuine medical excuse for not attending a Halloween celebration with his work colleagues, but Newt seemed to bring this side out of him more than he liked to admit. Hermann spent many of his waking moments over the course of the day considering how he could make it up to him, though he continued to draw blanks on how. This evening had really been something that Newt had clearly been looking forward to for weeks, and Hermann had just gone and blown it for him with no chances of rectifying it for him. He generally tried not to focus on his own instances of being a shit boyfriend, though he knew they were plentiful, but as he laid there between illness-induced naps, it sure was hard to not feel like the biggest asshole in their two-person K-Science division. 

Even as much as he had somewhat been dreading having to parade onstage amongst other costumed eccentrics like Newt, the fact that he was doing it with his partner had made him resent missing this all the more. For the first time in his life, Hermann had looked forward to bobbing for apples and eating repulsive candy corns and listening to the “Monster Mash” play no less than seven times on the loudspeaker in an overcrowded Shatterdome cafeteria, all because he knew that the man he, for some unforeseen reason, loved with all his heart, would be beside him, and even if they hadn’t decided to reveal it yet to the rest of their coworkers, just Newt’s sheer presence made everything not only manageable, but something that Hermann looked forward to immensely and intimately.

The fact that Newt was now going to the event alone caused a slight tear to form in Hermann’s heart, as he imagined the handsome scientist in a dazzling costume that won the entire evening, surrounded by suitors of all and any genders that were as amazed and impressed by the mere existence of Newton as he was, and while he trusted Newt enough to know that nothing would ever happen between any of these admirers and him, it didn’t mean that his petty and insecure sides were very comforted by the thought. 

Somewhere in the beginning of the evening, Hermann had begun finding it easier to delve back into consciousness as well as feeling more like an actual human being than a mere receptacle for influenza, though his ability to stand or breathe comfortably for more than a few seconds at a time continued to be limited. By 1900 hours, he heard a knock on the door, though didn’t bother asking who it was or telling it that it was free to enter, as he knew that if it was the only person he wanted to see that it would freely walk in regardless of any response he gave.

He was correct, and in walked Newt, not dressed in his typical lab clothes nor any clearly identifiable Halloween costume, but instead wearing simply an old Godzilla World Tour cotton t-shirt and a pair of green plaid pajama pants, which struck Hermann as odd. 

“Does your party not start soon?” Hermann asked, unable to stand the obnoxious nasal quality to his own voice. 

“Hello to you too, dear,” said Newt in a rapid voice, grinning from ear to ear as he stood in Hermann’s doorway, “and why yes, yes it does. Which is why I’m here, talking to you!” 

Hermann raised an eyebrow as far as he could muster. “Then, if I may ask, why are you not in any sort of costume?” 

Newt rolled his eyes as if it were obvious, “Again, that’s why I’m here! Duh! It’s in my room and you’re just going to have to come see it.” He began heading over to Hermann’s bed, clearly with the intention of helping him out of it and dragging him out of his room. 

“What?” Hermann exclaimed, not following but at the same time entirely unsure of what he was missing. “In case you haven’t noticed, Newton, I’m not exactly feeling my best and would rather stay where I am. And if you cannot remove it from your room, how, pray tell, do you intend to showcase it at the party?”

Newt seemed entirely nonplussed by either of Hermann’s objections and continued helping him rise from the bed. “When I show you, it’ll all make sense. Can’t you ever just like, chill and let me handle things?” 

Hermann, already exhausted after a day of battling various symptoms, caved easier than he likely would have in other instances and allowed his boyfriend to help him to the door. Fortunately, Newt’s room was just to the left of his own so they needn’t walk far to get to their desired destination. Hermann blew his nose into the lavender handkerchief that he had brought with him as Newt fiddled with the door until it swung open and he guided Hermann in without turning on the overhead light, and closed the front door behind them.

“You know, you may have consumed enough kaiju particles in your day to garner the ability to see in the dark but not all of us share the same genetic mutations,” Hermann griped as he stood in complete darkness while Newt scurried off to do God knows what. 

Newt laughed while he fiddled with something near his bed, a good ten steps from the front door. “Come on, we both know that’s a myth and that kaiju can orient themselves so well in the deep oceans because they have fucking awesome hearing and anyways just give me a second, okay?” 

Hermann, again too tired to argue, relented for the moment while he let Newt complete whatever it was that he was doing, until suddenly Newt seemed to find the outlet for which he must have apparently been looking, and the room lit up with small white fairy lights which cast a soft glow on a canopy of various blankets and quilts that had been hung from the back of table chairs over what Hermann presumed was still Newton’s twin-sized bed. 

Unable to think of anything to say, Hermann stood open-mouthed and looked at Newt, whose glasses reflected the tiny bulbs that had been strung across the ceiling of the tiny apartment and whose smile showed how excited he was to merely be in this moment with Hermann. 

“I couldn’t think of any costume nearly as good as the one we’d planned for tonight,” said Newt, who began to circle back around the room once more to get behind Hermann with the intention of wrapping his arms around his middle and pulling him close. “And honestly,” he continued, voice muffled as he leaned his head into Hermann’s back, “it really didn’t seem like it would be any fun without you there. So I figured we could have a night in and I could finally make the pillow fort that I’ve been dying to put up for you.”

Hermann began turning around in Newt’s arms and wrapped his own arms around the shorter man. “Newton, I’m not really sure what to say-” 

“I’m not done yet!” Newt went on, abruptly ending their embrace and instead pulling Hermann over to the small bed that they had long figured out how to most effectively share that was now enhanced by a covering of various prints and fabrics. Newt guided Hermann into the soft cave, and once they comfortably settled in, Hermann realized that Newt had created a perfect hole in the fort to see the television screen as well as stocked the bedside table with all of the Halloween treats that Hermann had recognized seeing in the Shatterdome convenience shop. Newt quickly reached over to grab a box of allegedly “spooky” Mike and Ike’s as well as the remote. “I already went and predownloaded ‘The Fly’ (1986) partially because I know you get hard from not only ridiculous pseudobiology and because, like, fucking Halloween and all, but also because I know how bad you want to get in early Jeff Goldblum’s pants and I thought it might ease your way into recovery.” 

Hermann scoffed but did not deny, and leaned further into Newt’s shoulder and tugged him tight. “I love you,” he sighed into Newton’s chest while his lover peppered his scalp with gentle kisses and pressed play on the remote. “Thank you, for all of this.”

Hermann could feel Newt’s lips pull into a smile by the way they moved across the top of his head. “I love you too, babe. And thank you, for being my-” 

He tried to stop him, he really did. “Newton, please.”

“Boo.”

[bambamsgotjams]

Badboy!Chan

okay so i’ve had this idea in my google docs for a long time now

and for some reason i just never got around to completing it???

so i hope you all enjoy it because it’s been in here for months and its time for me to start posting more content on my blog

chan is basically known as the scariest man on the university campus

well maybe not the scariest

but defiantly the most intimidating guy you’ll ever meet

what really gives off his intimidating vibe is mainly all of the dark clothing and chains he’s seen wearing around campus

like he basically lives in ripped jeans, leather jackets, and dark tshirts

he has some pretty curly gray hair that looks really nice with his tan skin

omf imagine this

bad boy bang chan with an eyebrow piercing

omg i would live for that

if it wasn’t for the fact that almost every student was terrified of him

all the ladies would probably be pinning over him and probs some of the men too tbh bc chan is a looker

but anyways chan is lowkey kind of offended that everyone is too scared to talk to him because he really isn’t that bad of a guy

his whole life he just kind of grew up with this thought that everyone loved bad boys

thats basically what his high school days taught him

but it turns out that he didn’t really need to change from his normal cute self to this bad boy but it was a little too late for that because everyone already had this attitude that chan was not someone anyone should mess with

he has a couple good friends that don’t mind him for his personality like his roommate woojin who knows the real chan after living with him in a dorm for almost 3 years

and new freshman changbin who looks up to chan and tries to act like a bad boy too but according to everyone else he fails and is basically just like a small kitten

and then savage smarty pants minho who could really careless about wtf chan wears and does

as long as he isn’t doing something stupid or something that he’ll regret because minho really does care about him a lot but he’d never admit that publicly

woojin, minho, and changbin are really the only friends that chan has and even though he wishes people would stop looking down upon him for his outside appearance he really does love and cherish the friends that he has

so basically half way though every year the student body holds this big ass part to celebrate finishing their finals

and even though there really should be adult supervision the professors and administration could care less

so you can basically put the pieces together and figure what kind of shit goes down

ding ding ding

thats right

lots of horny teenagers and alcohol

chan and woojin would normally go together for a couple minutes before everything turns into chaos

but this year the decided that for some goddamned reason that they would stay for a little longer

mainly to make fun of the way some of the drunk students would dance or act stupid and stuff

minho decided to stay in and work on homework minho you nerd

and changbin had been invited off campus for the weekend by his best friend felix to go check out this new arcade that was just put in a mall strip in their hometown

and this is where you come in fellow reader

you were just a new transfer student who had just finished their first sophomore semester on a brand new campus

you had tagged along with your roommate and her friends to the campus party

and wow were you overwhelmed

you guys had arrived at the party just as the chaos had started

and basically almost everyone there was either already tipsy or just flat out wasted

you had tried your best to stay close to your roommate so you wouldn’t get lost

but the crowd of people was just so pushy and everyone was literally all over the place so you did end up getting separated

for the sake of trying to stay away from the madness you headed off to the side of a small bar table and sat down on one of the benches

there wasn’t a whole lot of people around there expect for a couple playing a shot game, the bartender sighing because he rather would be doing something else, and these two boys who didn’t look too much older than you

one with dyed blonde hair who wore a pair of black skinny jeans and a grey hoodie

the other in all black with a silver chain, grey hair, and a very hot eyebrow piercing

you ended up making eye contact with the later and his gaze on your own made your blood pulse

he look kinda intimidating with his outer appearance but his eyes looked soft and inviting

you looked away and broke eye contact with him and you were basically blushing as red as a ripe strawberry

after a few more minutes of you just sitting at the bar watching everyone having fun

this weird smelling boy walked right up in front of you and flashed you a gummy looking smile

his body smelled terribly of alcohol and you wanted nothing more than to get out of there knowing that something bad was gonna happen

but of course the boy just had to speak up and pull you away, asking you to dance with him

you wanted so badly to object his offer but his grip on your arm was strong and you weren’t exactly the strongest girl yourself

he pulled you into the crowd of students dancing and he too began to dance around you

well more like he was dancing on top of you

you just kind of stood there as stiff as a pole and you were frozen in shock not knowing how to respond

it wasn’t until you felt him starting to grope your body when you tried slipping away

but he was too quick and held tightly onto your waist

you could feel him starting to slightly grind his body against yours and you were like

“yep this is how im gonna die”

you kindly asked the man to stop but he didn’t answer you so you got a little bit louder until you were basically yelling at him to stop

and then you felt him being ripped off your body

you were confused for a second and then turned around to see what exactly was happening

there was the boy who had been harassing you lying on the ground as the very attractive gray haired boy from the bar had his fist raised

the boy on the ground was huddled into fetal position with a red mark on his cheek

everyone around you turned to see what all the yelling was about and stopped to watch as your savior continued to beat up the boy

he only stopped once he saw your terrified eyes looking at him

he cursed to himself and looked to the boy on the ground back over to you before walking up to you and asking if you were okay

you stared at him in shock because wow this boy was even prettier up close

but also he did just beat the shit out of a boy on the ground

asshole deserved it

you nodded your head quickly and thanked him

you noticed as the grey haired boy suddenly started to become nervous and flustered as he rubbed the back of his neck

“c-can i walk you back to your dorm,,,,,you know,,,,in cause something else happens”

he suddenly would look less and less of a bad boy and more as a soft little lamb

you gave him a cute innocent smile and agreed to allow him to walk you back

he hesitantly reached for your hand and walked you back into the direction of the bar where the blonde boy stood smirking at the two of you

gray haired boy leaned over and whispered something in the blonde’s ear before leading you away, the blonde boy whistling behind him

you watched as the gray haired boy flushed pink

once you were a good feet away from the party the gray haired boy let go of your hand and apologized

you shook your head and told him there was no need to be sorry

the whole walk home he basically talked to you about how much he hates parties but was only there to watch the people for entertainment

you learned that his name was chan and that he was kind of known as this intimidating bad boy on the campus

but you were like ??? i don’t see it??? especially after how cute and flustered he was acting around you

and you too felt the need to tell him a little bit about you like what your name was and how you were a new transfer student and that you lost your roommate in the crowd and stuff

chan acted a little sympathetic towards you and then with a smile offered to show you around campus sometime

and of course you agreed because honestly who wouldn’t agree to spending the day with a really attractive man

and with that you arrived at your dorm

but you didn’t part ways without getting his number first,,,

everything after that seemed to escalate pretty quickly

you didn’t really understand why people chose to be afraid of chan without getting to know him first because he was truly a really sweet guy

you also become pretty close friends with woojin and changbin

it took minho a little bit to warm up to you but according to chan he’s just a pretty cautious guy who would do anything for his friends

besides chan you probably got along with changbin the best with both of you having a mutual admiration for chan

apparently you were pretty oblivious to the way chan treated you

according to woojin’s words chan was absolutely whipped for you

and you didn’t really believe it at first because why would chan like this average college student who couldn’t even afford to buy ramen

but it turns out that woojin was right

chan started doing little things in hopes of making you fall for him and understand his feelings

like he would go out of his bad boy character to the flower shop down the road and buy you cute little daisies

which you really admired and appreciated

after a couple months of pining after you and woojin practically forcing him to declare his undying love for you he finally confessed

he took you to the local coffee shop and told you everything he felt

and lucky for him you returned his feelings

bad boy chan as a boyfriend would be so cute omg

he would be pretty protective over you and always offer to walk you to your classes even though it would make him late to his own

which he didn’t mind because the teachers already expected that out of him

he would always lend you his hoodies and leather jackets if you got cold

and omg they would be large on you and his heart would melt at the way they just seemed to swallow you whole

you were the best thing that had ever happened to chan and he loved that you weren’t quick to judge him for his appearance

and you accepted him for who he was and made him feel like he didn’t have to look dark and menacing for people to like him

when he first introduced you to his family they immediate opened up to you

they loved how much you cherished and appreciated their son for who he was and the way he was

you found out from his little sister that you were the first girlfriend that her channie oppa had ever had

and he was a blushing mess as he tried to keep her quiet

you simpily giggled and kissed his cheek telling him that you felt honored to be big bad channie’s first girlfriend ;)

being with chan had really changed you just as you did with him

he no longer felt the need to hide his real self away from people and he actually made an attempt to talking to people first

which of course did freak them out because everyone still had this strange fear over him

but seeing chan with an average girlfriend did get people to warm up to him better

especially after they saw how sweet and caring he was towards you

and honestly bad boy chan would just be literally the best boyfriend ever i dare you guys to fight me on this

[hairringtonsteve]

two ships passing in the night, part ii.

(billy hargrove x reader)

summary: late night coffee dates never seem to turn out the way that you think they do.

word count: 4,610

a/n: i’m so tired but this needed to come out bc i’m so excited for this.

part i. part iii.

taglist: @jems8241

Well, fuck.

Those two words had been rattling around your head for the last three days as you replayed the events of that night over and over in your head. It wasn’t even that big of a deal. You’d merely caught up with a former fellow student from Hawkins. That was all. You definitely weren’t replaying his soft, easy grins, or the way his lips had felt, rough against your cheek. You weren’t throwing around the idea of grabbing coffee with him again. You weren’t thinking about him and Max, the two of them with just the other on Christmas.

You sure as hell weren’t thinking of inviting him to your house for Christmas. That wasn’t even in the realm of possibility.

“You think we should go for red sprinkles or green sprinkles?”

Steve held up the two bottles to you, as though he genuinely thought that you would have an opinion one way or the other.

“What?”

“Red or green, Y/N? We’re burning daylight here.”

“Just get both. You know Dustin would complain if you only got one color and not the other.”

“That’s true,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as he put the two items into his basket. He pressed his lips together, sidestepping from the sprinkles to the chocolate chips. “Should we get mini or regular size?”

Your gaze flickered from him to someone behind him. Your whole body tensed when you caught sight of that small grin of his. It was still jarring to see him like that, without the mullet or angry look on his face. He looked between you and Steve, the grin sliding into a small smirk, reminiscent of the ones from back in high school. Your heart sped up a little as he watched you. God, this was insane. There was no rational explanation as to why your heart decided to switch to doubletime. Literally none.

In an instant, two bags of chocolate chips appeared in front of your eyes. You jerked back, frowning as you blinked at them.

“Regular or mini?”

Somewhere down the aisle, you heard chuckling. Steve’s entire back straightened at the sound, like it was a demogorgon waiting to attack. The chocolate lowered as Steve let his hands drop to his side, taking his time in turning around to face the source of that dreaded noise.

“Hargrove. What the hell are you doing here?” His words were hard and flat. He shifted to the side a little, just enough to put himself in front of you. Billy tilted his head at the two of you before stepping forward, hands in his pockets as he shrugged.

“I’m visiting for the holidays. Or is King Steve not allowing me into his kingdom?” He lacked most of the heat from his high school days, but you picked up on just enough. His gaze flickered from Steve to you, softening just a little. But when he turned his attention back to Steve, it hardened right back up.

“If I say that you’re not allowed, will you leave?”

“Only if you ask me nicely.” He offered the brown-haired young man a lascivious smirk, raising his eyebrows up and down to punctuate his point.

“Just fuck off, Hargrove. Jesus.” Steve took a step towards Billy, eyes blazing. You reached out for him, fingers wrapping around his bicep as you tugged him back. Billy watched the two of you carefully, his face easing into an unreadable mask.

“Just go pay, Steve. I’ve got to go grab some milk, and then I’ll meet you up there,” you said, leaving no room for argument. He looked from Billy to you, and then back to Billy, before letting out a sigh and rolling his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something - probably something along the lines of asswipe or motherfucker to Billy - but you shook your head, pointing to the end of the aisle. He let out a breath through his mouth, sighed, and miraculously headed down the aisle.

“Wow. You’ve really got your pet well trained, Y/N.”

You gave Billy an unimpressed look, cocking your brow as he walked towards you, stopping when he was within arm’s reach.

“You can cut the shit, Billy. We both know you’re not that pissed off at him.” He watched you for a beat before shaking his head, allowing a slow, easy grin to slide across his lips.

Your gaze lingered a second too long.

“Sorry. It’s just easy to get him riled up. And you’ve got to admit, he was mean to me first. I was going to be a nice little angel until he went and had to be a dick.”

“Yeah, well you didn’t have to be a dick back. Then you were just egging him on.” Billy just gave a shrug of his shoulders, taking another step towards you.

“Maybe I’m just a dick. You ever think of that?”

“You weren’t a dick the other night.” He took another step towards you, this time making him just as close as he’d been when he’d told you good night a few days before. Without meaning to, your heart started to stutter out its doubletime speed, reminding you that your heart had definitely been pounding since you’d first spotted him in the aisle.

“Maybe you make me less of a dick, then.” He ducked his head as you kept your eyes on him, your focus slipping for just a second to his lips. In an instant, you felt the ghost of his kiss against your cheek resounding through your mind.

“Maybe you just need to stop being a dick,” you murmured, letting the corners of your mouth tick upwards.

“Maybe we need to get coffee again.”

“You’re what?”

“Steve, just calm - “

“You want me to calm down? Are you kidding me right now? Billy Hargrove is a psychopath. Or are you forgetting how he made our lives a living hell senior year? Or how he tried to beat up a kid? Or how he -”

“What are the odds that you’d believe me if I said that he changed?” Steve let out a scoff as he ripped out the sprinkles from the plastic bags and slammed them onto the counter.

“I’d ask you what you hit your head off of. You can’t be serious, Y/N. Someone like him? He doesn’t change. He’s a fucking prick that just so happens to be -”

“Who’s a fucking prick?”

Steve fell silent as you lowered your gaze to the floor. Of course the entire fucking party would come into your kitchen at the exact moment that Steve was losing his shit.

“Your asshole of a stepbrother,” Steve spat. Max looked between you and Steve, furrowing her brows as the rest of the party started to speak at once. “Didn’t we already know that?”

“He isn’t even around anymore, who cares?”

“Guys, I thought I saw him the other day when I -”

“He’s an asshole, but he’s getting better.”

Max’s words left everyone in silence. She stared at everyone, looking from one person to the next before her focus settled onto Steve.

“He’s an asshole, but he’s trying, at least. He came to Hawkins because he wants to fix things with me. Or try, or something. He’s different now. I think. But I won’t know until I talk to him, and the last thing I need is for you shitheads to run him out of town before that happens.” By the end of her little speech, Max was practically snarling the words out. Lucas reached up and laid his hand on her shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze as she leaned into his touch.

“Okay. I trust you.” His words were exactly what she needed, apparently, because you visibly saw as she deflated. She turned to you, her fingers tapping against her leg, looking as though she were debating on saying something.

“Billy said that he talked to you the other night?” All eyes in the kitchen turned to you.

“Uh, yeah. We did. He told me a lot.”

“Did he tell you that he was in jail?” You gave a nod of your head. “Good.” You weren’t exactly sure why that was good, but for whatever reason, it appeared as though you’d earned Max’s seal of approval when it came to the situation.

“So, uh, Steve, you got the regular chocolate chips, right?” Dustin asked. It was obviously to every single person in the room that he was trying to change the subject, but despite that, it worked.

“No? I got the mini,” he said, picking up the bag of chocolate and waggling it around in the air. Dustin let out a cry of frustration, a scowl settling onto his features.

“What? How could you get mini? There’s not going to be enough chocolate in the cookies! They’ll be ruined!”

“Now listen here you little shit, you never once told me that I was specifically supposed to get regular chocolate chips. You just told me to get them! You never specified! What was I supposed to do?” Steve continued on with his rant as Dustin made his way towards you. He mirrored your position, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter top. His hip knocked against yours, causing you to look over and catch the small, satisfied grin that was on his face.

A warmth settled in your chest, remind you that despite the fact that they might not agree with the situation, they had your back. Or at least, Dustin did.

The aroma of freshly baked cookies floated through your house despite the fact that they’d been baked hours ago. The party had filtered out throughout the night, Steve being the last one to leave as he’d tried to argue with you once more, but you refused to have it. Instead, you’d pleaded to being exhausted and needing to head to bed as soon as possible. There had been a flicker of guilt in your gut as his eyes softened and he instantly went into overprotective-mom mode, asking if you needed anything to make you feel better.

Of course you’d declined, but not before telling him that he was the most caring friend you could ask for. He’d gotten a little sheepish at that, ducking his head and grinning before wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.

“Just feel better, okay?” He’d mumbled against your head, giving you one last, tight squeeze before heading out the door.

Steve was a good friend, you knew that. He was just concerned about you, and your apparent sudden lack of sanity. But people changed, right? You liked to believe that. You knew that some people were just terrible people, that no amount of naive wishing could change that. But Billy seemed different. Or rather, he seemed like the same Billy, just not as much of a fucking prick as he used to be. The young man that you’d run into the store that day didn’t strike you as the type to want to beat up a thirteen year old.

You were slipping on a pair of pajama shorts and a t shirt when you heard the knocking at the door. Steve must have forgotten to grab his badge. Ever since Hopper had officially welcomed him onto the force, Steve had been showing his badge to literally anyone who would pay attention. But that had developed into a nasty habit of forgetting it places - the biggest one being your house.

“Keep your pants on, Harrington. I’m coming, sheesh,” you yelled, thankful for the fact that your parents had declared it date night and had gotten a room in the next town over. The knocking intensified, which made you roll your eyes. “I swear to God, Steve, if you keep knocking, I’m going to take your arm and shove it so far up your ass that you’ll be-” You whipped open the door, pausing in mid sentence when you saw who it was.

“Well, shit. What’ll he be doing with his arm shoved so far up his ass?”

“Puncturing a lung,” you respond, staring at Billy with wide eyes. “What’re you doing here?” When he’d mentioned getting coffee again, you hadn’t really thought that he’d meant so soon. Or that he’d be showing up to your house to make due on said coffee.

“I thought, maybe, that we could, uh, well…” He trailed off, shoving his hands into his leather jacket pockets. It took you a moment to recognize it, but the worn leather took you back to a time when you’d first met Billy, in the midst of that crazy week with Will and the Mind Flayer.

“I can make a pot of coffee, if you’d like?” You’re not sure where the offer came from, but it hung in the air for longer than you would’ve liked. Eventually, Billy gave a nod of his head, pressing his lips together as you motioned for him to head inside. You padded towards the kitchen, your heart giving an awkward jolt at the sound of him closing the front door behind him.

In the back of your mind, you wondered if Steve would have an aneurysm, knowing that you and Billy Hargrove were alone in your house.

“So, what were all those chocolate chips for?”

“Steve and Dustin are on a baking spree. And since my house is around halfway for everybody, they all just kind of decided to meet here,” you said with a shrug. Flicking the light on in the kitchen, you took in just how messy everything was. Pans littered the counters with baked cookies on top, most pans having at least two layers of cookies, sometimes three. The boys had tried to clean up, but it had gotten a little distracting with Mike singing Christmas carols at the top of his lungs, and Lucas launching himself across the kitchen to shut him up.

You reached out and grabbed a cookie, shoving it into your mouth and holding it with your teeth as you snagged the can of coffee grounds. You worked in methodical silence, pouring spoonful after spoonful of them into the already there coffee filter. If there was anything that your dad had taught you, it was to always empty the coffee filter and replace it with a new one the second you were done. Made life just a little bit nicer, he said, when you could just skip that step any time you wanted to make yourself a cup.

“Youwancookti?” You asked through your mouthful of (slightly less) chocolatey goodness.

“Do I what?” Billy asked, his voice sounding closer than you’d expected. Your whirled around to see him leaning against the counter, close to where you’d been earlier. It was disconcerting. You chewed up your cookie, swallowing as you watched him.

“Do you want a cookie?” You took care to enunciate your words this time, even holding up a cookie to make sure that he got what you were saying.

“You know the last time someone asked me if I wanted a cookie was Mrs. Wheeler, who was trying to hit on me?” Your eyes widened as he picked up a cookie and took a bite out of it.

In a brief moment of insanity, as you watched him bite into the cookie, you could kind of understand why she would’ve tried it.

“Bullshit,” you said, instead focusing on that utter lie as opposed to his mouth and those lips.

“It’s not bullshit. It was that, uh, that night I was looking for Max. When the shit hit the fan.” You watched him carefully. Max had never said if she’d ever told him what had actually been going on that night. With the embarrassed way that he was looking at you, you figured that he had no clue just how much danger he could’ve been in that night.

“When did that happen, before or after you passed out in the Byers’ living room?”

“Before, thank you very much. I was looking for Max and thought she might know something. So I was charming,” he paused, tilting his head as he shot you - what you presumed to be - the charming grin that he’d shot Mrs. Wheeler. It was like he’d turned up everything one thousand percent, and as much as you hated to admit, it made every single cell in your body just stop. “And she was into it. Like, really into it. Practically had to chase her off at some basketball games.” He muttered that last bit under his breath, causing you to laugh out loud, which made his eyes widen.

“What?” You asked, suddenly a little self conscious. There were times when your laugh could only be described as booming.

“Nothing, nothing,” he mumbled, shaking his head. A little bit of red colored his cheeks, but you pushed that aside. It was warm in your house.

For a couple of seconds, the only sound was that of the coffee pot, gurgling away quietly in the corner next to the stove.

“So… Max mentioned you today. Kind of came to your defense,” you said, treading carefully. You snagged another cookie and took a bite.

“Yeah?” He toyed with the cookie in his hands, tapping the bottom of it before lifting it up and taking a small bite. “We grabbed dinner last night at the diner.”

“You did? That’s great. How’d it go?”

“Alright, I guess.” He gave a shrug of his shoulders before they slumped down, and you assumed that was the end of that. You turned around, reaching into the cupboard when he started speaking again. “Turns out that she, uh, she didn’t know that my dad was beating the shit out of me until after she threatened to nail me in the crotch.” You’d frozen in your movements when he’d started speaking again, but a snicker still escaped your lips at his choice of wording. It was quiet, and you wondered if he’d thought you’d laughed about something else. Your fingers wrapped around two mugs as you dragged them towards the edge of the shelf, setting them onto the countertop. When you turned back to him, his eyes were downcast as he worried at his lower lip.

“What is it?”

“I thought that she’d known, y’know? That she’d just been such a fucking bitch when we moved here. But she had no clue. I knew that he acted different around her, but… Not that different. I never put it together. I should’a put it together,” he murmured. You left your post by the coffee pot and walked to him, stopping only when you placed your hand on his arm.

“Neither of you knew, Billy.”

“I know that! But, well, I just - I treated her like shit because I thought she hated me despite the abuse, called me a dick despite it or that I deserved it or something. And she just thought that I was a dick for the sake of being a dick. Which I was, but… I fucked up so bad with her.” You could practically see the thoughts rolling around Billy’s head, causing a storm of memories that couldn’t have been good.

Your thumb brushed up and down his arm. You didn’t have any magic words that would make this better, or even make him feel better. To deny any of that would belittle what Max and Billy had gone through, not to mention being an outright lie. He’d made her life a living hell. His life had been a living hell.

“Can I have some coffee?” He asked, his voice small as he looked down at you. You tilted your head up to get a good look at him. There was something in his eyes, some kind of sadness that just tugged at your heart.

“Yeah, Hargrove, you can.” You headed back to the coffee pot, pouring you each a mug before you began to dig around in the closest drawer for some spoons. “There’s some milk in the fridge, and sugar in that ceramic pot to your left.” You turned around, holding out the mug to him as he pulled the milk from the fridge.

It took a minute or so of fixing your coffee to just the way you liked it, but after that, you headed to your couch. You sat on one end, sitting cross legged with a blanket draped across your lap, mug in hand as you watched Billy take his time in sitting down. He wandered the room, examining every family photo and trinket that adorned the shelves.

“You’ve got a lotta pictures of you up here,” he hummed, glancing over his shoulder at you.

“Yeah, it’s so my parents don’t forget what I look like while I’m at college.” You settled back against the seat, the warm drink in your hands making you feel drowsy despite the caffeine.

Damn college for making you immune to coffee.

Billy made sure to wait until you were looking back at him to roll his eyes. He took a sip from his mug, lingering by your childhood photos for a few seconds longer before making his way to you. He sat on the couch, closer than most people would have sat. Without really thinking about it, you shifted your position, straightening out your legs and tugging your feet under Billy’s thigh. He quirked a brow at you, most likely noting the way your cheeks instantly burned red.

“It’s a habit,” you mumbled. And it was. You had cold feet. Every single member of the party had gotten used to you shoving your feet under their legs to steal their warmth. Steve would shriek and squirm, hating the way that it felt. The rest dealt with it with varying degrees of annoyance.

Billy, however, just smirked and shook his head.

“So what’s up with you and Harrington?”

“Nothing?”

“C’mon. You mean to tell me that you’re not doing it?”

“No?”

“I told you about my dad and Max. Least you could do is not lie to me.”

“I’m not lying, Billy. Steve and I are like siblings. There’s nothing there.” He let out an mhmm, which annoyed you to no end. “Trust me, Billy, people know when I like someone.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. There are signals and everything.” You grinned at him from over the lip of your mug as you took a sip.

“You mean like how you were staring at my mouth when I was eating that cookie? Or how you were staring at my mouth in the grocery store? Would those be signals, Y/N?” You spluttered out coffee, making it dribble down your chin in a rather unattractive manner. But Billy didn’t mind. In fact, he leaned forward, using his thumb to wipe away the line of liquid that had spilled from your mouth down your chin. “Are they?”

All you could do was slowly nod your head.

Billy Hargrove might’ve changed. He might not be the angry prick that he’d once been. But Billy Hargrove was also the same in a lot of ways, too.

And deep down, you would’ve been lying to yourself if you’d have ever said that you hadn’t wondered what it’d be like to kiss Billy Hargrove.

You’d thought that he’d rush it, that he’d just jump right in, lips on yours, hands on your hips, and fucking go for it. But no. First he set his coffee mug on the ground, then taking yours out of your hands, being careful not to spill any. Then he got himself situated, his calloused hand grabbing at your ankle to tug you down a little. Your pulse was rising steadily, already feeling hot all over.

He was tilted a little on the couch, so you scooted forward to get closer to him. Your action brought a small smirk to his face. The smirk almost made you chicken out. It reminded you of high school, when things had been a lot shittier all around. But thoughts of the other night filtered in as well, when you’d spent hours at that diner talking about everything.

So without further ado, you leaned in and kissed him.

He hadn’t been expecting that, you could tell. His whole body froze, lips not moving an inch for a couple of seconds. Then his brain caught up with what was going on, and it was hands all over.

First, his hands were cupping your cheeks, making sure that you stayed nice and close to him. Your lips were moving against his as your hands tangled up in his shirt, clenching tight. HIs hand moved to your waist as you swiped your tongue across his lower lip. He granted access easily, deepening the kiss in a way that made your head spin. His hand went from your waist to your ass, pulling you into him.

Honestly, it got a little blurry after that. It was just a haze of kissing and touching and pressing and wanting and all you were able to think about was that you hoped he was responsible enough to pull away because you sure as hell weren’t and you’d need to breathe sometime.

Eventually, he did pull away, pressing another soft, quick kiss against your lips before resting his forehead against yours.

“Was that a signal?” He smirked, his hand giving your waist a squeeze.

“That was a fucking beacon, you dumbass.” You teased, tilting your head up so you could kiss him again. This time it was softer, slower; a drink of cool water on a hot day. He still had a hand against your cheek, although now it slid down to rest against your neck, fingertips brushing against your jaw.

“What are the odds that you’ll let me do that again?”

You pretended to think about it for a long minute, which didn���t sit well with Billy. He started peppering soft kisses against your jaw line, the hand on your waist moving to slip under your shirt.

“High. Really high,” you breathed out, sighing as he hit a particularly sensitive spot on your neck.

He pulled away once you’d answered, a smug grin teasing his lips as he watched you. A yawn snuck up on you, leaving your lips as you raised your arms above your head to stretch. Billy watched as your shirt raised a little, exposing a thin strip of skin.

“Can I stay tonight?” You hesitated. Making out was one thing, but you weren’t planning on sleeping with the man. “I just really don’t feel like walking home,” he said with a shrug.

“You don’t have your car with you?”

“Nah. I figured that I’d keep up with our tradition, and walk in the freezing cold,” he said, giving you a flat look. You weren’t sure if he was being serious or not, but decided against asking.

“Well, I guess if you went all that way to keep up our tradition…” You trailed off, offering him a small smile. Without warning, he tugged your ankle down farther so you were laying down on the couch. He shifted you around, pushing you forward a little so that way he could lay behind you. An arm wrapped around your waist, draping across it as you snuggled back against him.

It wasn’t the most comfortable position you’d ever been in, but it was nice enough.

“Billy?” He let out a hum in response, nuzzling his nose against the back of your neck. You bit your lip, taking in a deep breath as you mustered the courage to ask him something that you’d been thinking about the last couple of days. “Do you want to come here for Christmas?”

[1800-seungshine]

in locked with you.

member: park woojin genre(s): high school!au, fluff, crush!woojin summary: with it being halloween, you suddenly regret being the last person to remain at school and what more luck is that you’re locked in the classroom. fear not, you’re not alone; your crush is there too. (requested - bullet point format) word count: 1.7k

note: wow am i whipped for woojin or is it all of you? i think it’s both lmao but this is another requested scenario by an anon! this is to commemorate an event that i don't actually partake in but i might as well lowkey celebrate it by writing about it..??? heheheh. it's actually halloween now here in australia so imma write this as quick as possible lmao - to those trick or treating, have fun and stay safe!!

p.s thank you to the anon that requested this! it means a lot < 33

halloween - the greatest time of the year for pranksters and outright mischievous

your school loveessss halloween

even to the extent where the principal allows the student committee to put decorations on and let the students come as anything they want 

ofc you didn’t wanna miss out on the fun 

so you dressed up as that one thicc sausage bun which will be forever missed (halloweiner anyone?? ok that was lame)

rip snapchat hotdog :’((((

the entire day was fun and filled with so much laughter that you were sure your day was gonna be 100% l i t 

you had dance club meetings that you had to attend but it was mainly dance captain!ong talking about preparations for upcoming events so it was all chill 

and eventually by the time you were fully aware, it became evening 

so you went to the toilets to change into casual clothes 

bc would you really wear a hotdog suit during the evening, or in general public (i mean i would cough)

usually you would have your best friend with you whenever club meetings ended late 

but she was absent and all your fellow club mates have gone to dog you so you were basically the only person in the school 

you thought of all the horror movies you watched alone and the possibility of them coming true to life 

wrong move, you freaked yourself out 

what’s even better is that you left the rest of your things in the classroom where the meeting was held 

so you walked to that classroom as quickly as possible, already planning to grab your things and jet straight away

bc not today demons. not today. (totes not a bts reference) 

but when you entered the classroom, there’s this guy crouching down looking for something 

"oH MY GOD! WHAT THE-”

so you let out a yelp and he jumps in shock

the said guy then looks up 

and you instantly shut your gaping mouth 

cos it’s park woojin 

your crush and fellow dance club member 

but step aside feelings, he scared the heck outta you and he needs to hear a piece of your mind

“s-sorry! did i scare you??”

you see that worried and overall shook look on his face 

aannnnnddd nevermind he’s forgiven 

bc it’s okay if he nearly gave you a heart attack, the world is a better place and your entire existence is blessed by park woojin 

“no no!” you wave your hand furiously, “it’s okay - i just wasn’t expecting someone in here since i was the last person left. what are you doing here by the way?”

“ah...well, seongwoo hyung told me that he forgot something here and ordered me to get it. so here i am but i can’t seem to find it though.” 

with woojin’s presence in the same vicinity as you, you suddenly forget your plan of bolting, “do you need help..?”

“no, it’s getting late and you should go home - i think i can handle; it was just these documents that he placed somewhere.” 

you shake your head in return bc you’re a nice human being, “i’ll help you besides it’ll be faster if we look for it together.” 

hence the beginning of your search party 

and whilst you were both too focus looking here and there 

the “wind” slams the door shut 

(in actuality someone specifically a guy named ong seongwoo closed the door shut and locked it from the outside) 

you run to the door and fumble with the door handle, trying to push it open 

“ohmygod ohmygod you can’t be serious- why isn’t the door opening-” you start to panic and woojin instantly comes over gently pushing you aside 

he also begins with the same motions as you

and after numerous pushes and kicks, woojin lets out a sigh 

“we’re locked in...” 

now you start to panic even more and you’re just there trying to calm yourself by taking deep breathes 

“i mean, it could be worse right...?” you laugh nervously at him 

but jokes on you 

bc the moment you said that, all the lights immediately shut 

(totally not the work of ong seongwoo)

“n OPE.” you finally say before trying to find your way to the door by touching the handle.

so now you’re just endlessly banging on the door, screaming and yelling; “HELP!! ANYONE??? IS ANYONE THERE?? HELP!!”

the fact that it was dark and you couldn’t see crap made things worse 

bc you were petrified and it feels like you’re all alone by yourself - woojin doesn’t seem to be answering and you can’t even figure out where the heck he is  

(he has no clue how to deal with you when he’s freaking out himself)

“woojin woojin woojin, we’re gonna die and the ghosts are going to take our souls and and we’ll end up in another universe or something and we’ll be trapped forever.” 

there’s no reply 

“woojin? oh my god, am i all alone now? park woojin you dog, i swear on my own failing grades-” 

then out of nowhere you can faintly see the entire room again and you relax as you see woojin appear in your vision, holding his phone as he keeps the flashlight on

“did you just call me a dog...?” 

he’s looking at your face, amused at how you were shedding a few tears and sniffling 

you were pretty cute in his eyes 

“i didn’t mean to, i panicked and i really don’t know what to do and and i should have gone home like what you said earlier but nooo! my stupid humanitarian ass and my feelings got in the way so i ended up helping you. 

i knew i shouldn’t have binged watched all those horror movies last night and oh my god, i don’t even know if i’m breathing; should i breathe? can i breathe?” 

you turn your back to him as you try to calm yourself down and there’s complete silence apart from your shaky breaths

and it starts to get him worried bc you look like you’re close to breaking down 

so woojin pushes aside all the awkwardness and hesitance that he’s feeling, grabbing your shoulders so you face him 

you’re just there sniffling quietly, looking down bc good lord you’re ugly crying rn - this boi shouldn’t be seeing you like this 

but he places his hand under your chin and lifts your head lightly 

“y/n, look at me.” 

you instantly look down and shake your head. “no, shut up i’m crying and it’s ugly; don’t do this to me.” 

look at you finding a reason to not give away that you’re a lot more terrified than you look

“please...?”

his plead softens you in less than a second and you slowly oblige to his request, your eyes meeting his.

“you’ll be okay, we’ll be okay, alright? i’m right here, you can trust me.” woojin softly says to you, “take deep breaths and just look at me, forget about everything else.” 

surprisingly, you were starting to calm down and seeing that it was working, he flashes you a grin

“see? nothing will go wrong from now and even so, you have me.” 

TIME SKIP OF ABOUT THREE HOURS SINCE GETTING LOCKED IN 

now you’re just both sitting on the ground, talking comfortably 

which is a first time bc you and woojin haven’t really properly talked before this situation

in that short amount of time though, you immediately clicked with him and it’s going great

you’ve gotten a lot more calmer than at the beginning 

but only because you’ve been holding his hand 

which he initiated, thinking that it could help you 

even if it isn’t really a scientifically proven idea 

it’s effective though (somewhat) 

bc while it calms you down, your heart is also pounding loudly  

and you’re just praying really hard that he can’t hear it bc you sure damn well can 

it’s now officially midnight 

you’re both beginning to yawn 

next thing you know, you lean on the wall and you’re knocked out cold 

he doesn’t really realise that you’ve fallen asleep until you stop replying to him causing him to turn his head 

woojin chuckles gently, “your crying must have tired you out...” he says to your sleeping figure, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face, “i didn’t know you could be unknowingly cute...it’s charming.” 

he scoots closer to you, intimate enough that your shoulders were touching

and gently, he places your head on his shoulder so you can sleep a lot more comfortably

asdfghjkl im screeching bye

soon, woojin also drifts off to sleep with your hands still in his and your fingers intertwined. 

THE NEXT MORNING 

your eyes lift up as the sunlight shines through 

wow this certainly ain’t your bed

oh wait-

you instantly become reminded that you were locked in all night 

so it wasn’t a dream 

and so you whip your head to the left and you see a peaceful woojin sleeping right beside you 

surprisingly you’re both still (loosely) holding hands 

and the thought that it stayed that way all night makes you blush 

woojin flinches a little and eventually is awakened, turning his head to face you

“good morning...” he sleepily says to you, his eyes still closed 

“woojin, we slept overnight here.” 

“i know...but give me five more minutes.” woojin replies, leaning his head on your shoulder 

wowowow who knew an overnight stay in a school would make you two closer than ever 

yet as soon as his head lays on your shoulder 

the door slams wide open 

and enters dance club president, ong seongwoo 

“wAKE UP HOES THIS AIN’T A HOTEL.” 

he stands in front of you two with a cheeky grin, “but i’m glad you’ve both gotten along really well.”

woojin simply groans, “shut up seongwoo hyung - you trick me by saying you left some dumb document and then lock us in here for your fun and games.” 

wait.

“YOU WHAT?” you scream, causing the two boys to jump 

seongwoo laughs nervously, “now now, don’t get mad - i was just doing it for the lols and besides, you guys are best friends now, right?” 

“oh my god- i had mental breakdowns and i ugly cried in front of my crush just for your lols?! oNG SEONGWOO I’M GOING TO KILL YOU.” 

“NOT UNLESS YOU CATCH ME FIRST.” 

let’s just say that seongwoo ran faster than he’s ever been 

and once he bolted out that door, you instantly followed to hunt his ass down 

meanwhile woojin remains in the classroom until he repeats your words and instantly recalls what you also said that last night 

“did she just say she likes me??” 

[sicklylittlesnowflake]

Omg I never knew you wrote spiderman!!! i was like omg??/ Im so happy?? anyway what about if Peter gets a migraine round at the stark tower and he's like 'its only a headache I'll be fine' and... he's not lol @ him

(This is baby’s first Spiderman fic!! There’s been quite a few amazing ones so have my dollar store discount contribution :“) but I love me some Spiderman tbh!! not the longest fic for now bc I haven’t written Peter ever!! Also I’m excited to come back to marvel!!)

Occasionally Peter would feel a little insecure about his place in life; sometimes feeling like he wasn’t quite a part of something as much as everyone else. Of course, he had Ned who he loved very dearly and appreciated, but he wondered sometimes if he was missing out on his teenage years. Sometimes felt excluded and pushed to the shadows, being at the bottom of the High School Hierarchy.

Being the Spiderman gave him a sense of purpose, it made him feel like he was doing something with his life, made him feel good about himself.

It had been a week full of parties he wasn’t invited to, a week of scrolling through his little to no followers instagram trying to study for a Spanish test and seeing fellow classmates with hundreds of likes having fun. So when Tony Stark invited him round to the Stark Tower that weekend for some suit upgrades, Peter was excited.

It was all he was really thinking about, using that as an excuse to get through the horrible week. He had pulled a lot of all nighters trying to study for various tests, and catching up with the Decathlon team to redeem himself for his disappearances, and needless to say he was burned out. He needed this trip to Stark’s more than ever.

"Are you sure you should go to Stark’s like that?” Ned frowned, eyeing up his way too pale friend who had the darkest circles under his eyes, and who was also desperately rubbing at his temples.

“Like what? I’m good, Ned! Look at me, I’m ready to see him,” Peter insisted, clenching his teeth at his pounding headache.

“Did Mr Stark request that he sees you at your absolute worst or am I missing something?” Ned shot back, still very hesitant to let his best friend just take off like this.

Peter rolled his eyes, “I’m fine, dude! Look, I really need this right now.”

Ned sighed, still obviously very concerned, “Just..look after yourself or something. If you die I guess I’ll have to be Spiderman and I can’t do that yet because I’ve got a huge test coming up!”

Peter smirked, “In your dreams, dude! Catch ya later.” He scurried out of the school doors, where he caught sight of Happy’s limo. A wave of excitement rushed through him, momentarily forgetting about his pounding headache and waved enthusiastically at him. Happy waved back boredly, but fondly.

“Wait this shit is real?!” Flash gasped as Peter climbed onto the car and waved proudly at Flash. Happy could only groan as he pulled away, driving off.

“I’m so glad that you picked me up at the front of the school!! Thanks dude!! Now Flash knows this isn’t a fluke!” Peter said excitedly, adrenaline rushing through his body.

Happy huffed fondly, “Well, it is kinda a fluke, you don’t actually have an internship. But I only did that because I want to get out of this car as soon as possible.”

Peter pouted, a sly smile creeping onto his face, “Awh, you just missed me, Happy! Don’t try and hide it! You missed me so much you just couldn’t wait for much longer!”

Happy tried to disguise his smile, and was thankful someone decided to call him. He picked up the phone and answered. As the car quieted down, the adrenaline in Peter’s body lowered and suddenly he became aware of his extreme fatigue once again.

Peter slumped against the car seat, hissing ever so slightly as his head throbbed, a sudden surge of pain in his head. He lifted a hand to his temples, rubbing circles discreetly as not to raise any suspicion.

He closed his eyes as to suspend any possible sensory stimuli. He felt exhausted and drained, weak, lowkey wishing he had listened to Ned. However that stubborn voice inside his head told him otherwise, that this was the right choice. He felt his body relax, begging him desperately to rest for a little bit. He was hesitant, but a few minutes of nodding off while Happy spoke on the phone was totally fine, right?

“Wake up, kid,” Happy’s voice boomed out, causing Peter to jolt awake.

He tensed, looking up to see Happy’s disapproving gaze, smiling sheepishly. He went bright red in shame, realising he must have been asleep the whole trip there.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, pressing his lips together as he climbed out of the car, nearly tripping over his own feet. Letting out a little “whew”, he straightened himself out, and looked up to see the Stark Tower, amazed. He was in awe, the magnificent spectacle never ceasing to cause his jaw to drop.

“Alright kid, stop gawking and get inside,” Happy chuckled softly, although he was extremely concerned, watching with furrowed eyebrows as the teenager ran inside the tower. He cleared his throat, knowing something was wrong.

As Peter and Happy escalated through the lift, his headache, which now was surely a migraine, begin to intensify, a sharp paining throbbing in his head. Peter let out a tiny grunt of discomfort, eyes squeezing shut for a few seconds in pain. In those few seconds he missed Happy’s concerned glance.

Once the elevator doors reopened Peter stepped out, eyes twinkling with delight as he saw all the advanced tech around him. He walked around slowly, trying to walk as straight as possible due to his dizziness. He hoped he was convincing, but deep down he knew he was was not walking straight at all.

“Don’t break anything,” Happy warned, jokingly.

“I’ll try! Can I touch though?!” He said excitedly.

“Absolutely not,” Tony’s voice rang out from across the room, making his presence known and strutting out in full designer suit.

Peter flushed bright red, chuckling nervously, “Totally a joke!!”

Tony raised an eyebrow fondly, “Yes, of course it was, Pete.”

“So! What do you need me to do? Do you need me to demonstrate anything?” Peter asked with as much enthusiasm as he could, wanting to make the most of this experience and prove himself Tony. In reality, he was declining in energy levels fast and all he wanted to do was curl up and rest. He did a twirl in the air to try and show off his eagerness, but only resulted in his head spinning rapidly, the room spinning like he was on some amusement park ride. It was like his Earth was tilting, causing him to stumble slightly.

Tony raised an eyebrow, “Nice going, prima ballerina.”

Peter blushed again to which Tony frowned, “Also, aren’t ballerinas meant to be all prim and pretty? You aren’t looking too hot, Peter.”

Peter’s eyes widened, “Uh, I just..had a long day at school! Is all!”

“Hmm,” Tony replied and began to walk towards another room, “follow me then, Swan Lake.”

Peter nodded, carefully following Tony, trying to keep his balance and not trip over and break something and lose the suit forever. He entered Stark’s lab, eyes lighting up with awe and wonder.

“Woah,” he whispered, eyes twinkling with delight and excitement.

“Woah indeed,” Tony remarked, heading to one of his most recent developments and beginning to demonstrate.

Peter tried his absolute best to listen to him, because he wanted to, he really did. Normally he’d be all ears, sucking in information like a vacuum. This was Stark Industries tech for gods sake, one of the most advanced tech of their generation.

As Tony continued to explain the science behind his invention coolly, Peter began to get extremely frustrated. His brain wasn’t fully processing the information, cutting out bits, concentration wavering as his migraine continued to intensify. He clenched his teeth, hoping the pain would just subside for a little bit so he could actually listen to Mr Stark.

As Peter forced his senses to cooperate with him, he found that his head hurt even more. His vision began to blur and fade in and out, blinking rapidly as a futile attempt to correct his impaired vision. His spidey senses were going haywire.

“Peter, are you having trouble keeping up?” Tony said, interrupting himself from his little lecture.

Peter shook his head, “No Mr Stark, of course not.”

As he forced himself to process information, his brain was desperately trying to reject it, overloaded and overwhelmed. There was a finite amount of energy left in Peter before the migraine would eventually win. As his senses were overwhelmed, so was his migraine, and the agonising pain reached a peak.

A shooting, burning pain tormented his head, so harsh and unforgiving Peter couldn’t help the hiss and groan of anguish ripping out of his throat.

“Peter?” Tony exclaimed.

His entire body was wracked with this overwhelming pain as his knees began to buckle, giving out, feeling himself begin to fall when Tony was at his side. Tony held him tightly so he wouldn’t fall, his grasp firm and reassuring.

“Peter, what’s wrong?” He asked calmly, trying to keep a level head in this situation. It became clear to Peter that Tony knew something was up all along.

“My head hurts so much,” Peter whimpered into Tony’s side, teeth clenched.

Tony gave him a sympathetic look, sighing softly as he called out, “Happy? Go get the medicine and stuff, I’m taking Peter to his room.”

Tony picked the teenager up effortlessly, as Peter struggled to stay conscious, lights flickering in and out. The older man exited his lab, heading towards a room already made elegantly and laid him down onto the bed. Peter’s muscles relaxed as his skin came into contact with the soft, luxurious mattress and blanket.

Happy entered the room, saying something inaudible to Tony as the room started to fade into darkness.

“I’m sorry Mr Stark,” Peter whimpered softly as he lost consciousness.

Peter woke up groggily to a night sky by his window and Tony flicking the lights open. His heart a lot less, with only a few remaining remnants of the pain.

“How are you feeling?” Tony asked as he approached the teenager.

“Better,” Peter croaked, sitting up weakly as he rubbed his eyes. He tried to calm down the bedhead he was sure he had; but knew he was not too successful at that. Tony sat down at the edge of his bed, sighing as he passed Peter some aspirin and a glass of water.

Peter gulped down the glass of water, trying to distract himself from the feeling of guilt and shame ridden in his chest. “What time is it?”

“6:30,” Tony replied, inhaling deeply, a sure sign that he was about to lecture him.

“Pete, if you wanna be the Spiderman, you gotta start looking after yourself. Your no use to the civilians if you’re not well, you need to learn to take care of yourself more and know your boundaries. Hiding stuff doesn’t help anyone, you, me, the innocent people you want to save..It’s not convincing either,” Tony started.

“Happy texted me that you were sick the second you fell asleep in the car, I was hoping that you would give in and tell the truth once you got here. Pushing yourself when it’s not necessary isn’t the way to–Peter?” Tony came to a halt as a very light and quiet sniffling sound resonated from the teenager.

Peter cried quietly, aggressively trying to wipe away the tears he was unwillingly shedding. He tried to repress the sounds of his tiny sobs, feeling pathetic and weak.

Tony’s eyes softened, heart breaking as he inched closer to the boy, “Hey, c'mon man, what’s up?”

Peter shook his head violently, unable to stop himself from the little hiccups and never ending tears. He turned away from him, not wanting him to see him like this.

Tony sighed softly, “Pete, did you not hear anything I just said there? My whole lecture about not hiding things? Bottling up emotions is the same situation–you can’t do that shit. It doesn’t work–trust me, I would know.”

Peter sniffled, voice shaky, “..I just..I’m really angry at myself I guess..I wanted this to be special because nothing in my normal life is ever really special and everyone else seems to be having so much fun..they all seem so happy..and I’m lucky because I have Ned and some people have no one but still I know everyone looks down on me and I just wanted to prove myself–”

Tony interrupted him, “Is anyone bullying you? Who’s bullying you? Tell me–”

Peter shook his head, “No, Mr Stark. No ones..I just..i guess it’s more of a me thing..I feel like I’m just on the outside watching everyone living their lives and being teenagers and I’m just..not capable of that I guess. I feel so stupid and useless all the time like nothing I ever do is important or means anything..and I guess I just wanted this Spiderman thing because it gives me purpose and..maybe I am nothing without this suit, I don’t–”

“Peter, stop this at once. You have proven yourself worthy of that suit on numerous occasions, all those things you’re saying about yourself is not true,” Tony interrupted, his voice firm and genuine.

Peter stayed quiet, wiping away at his tears, the sight way too heartbreaking for Tony.

“Oh for..c'mere,” Tony said, opening his arms.

Peter widened his eyes, “Y-you mean..”

Tony smiled, “I’m not just opening the door for you this time.”

Peter practically tacked Tony into a hug, wrapping his arms around him as he sobbed quietly. Tony sighed, rubbing the teenager’s back sweetly, trying to offer this kid reassurance and care.

“I felt like you too once, you know,” Tony said softly.

“..Y-you? Really?”

Tony chuckled, “Yes I did. Sure, I was Howard Stark’s son, but I always felt left out and excluded growing up. I felt like I couldn’t just be a teenager, you know? It’s bullshit when people say your teenage years are the best years, there’s still a lot coming for you, Pete.”

Peter giggled through his tears, feeling a lot better, a whole weight lifting off his shoulders.

Tony rubbed his back soothingly, smiling, “We are going to have a good weekend, Pete. I promise you.”

[vacanpaathy]

PREFACE : Here’s the first of 2 info posts about Brooke this is the How it works / about / changes one. Fair warning I just batted this out over 2 nights and I haven’t proof read so like..... rip yall. the next will be a more classic bio sheet

Brooke started as just a thought experiment about twin slayers while marathoning the show, I know that there’s a twin sitch in the comics since I read it with my own two eyes but 1) the comics are… Woof at times and 2) that was fraternal male-female twins, while Buffy and Brooke are identical twin sisters which in this context can mean a world of difference. Also I just went for “what’s the most narratively interesting / what’s the most fun”. HOW IT WORKS : In her main verse Brooke was called as the Slayer at the same time as Buffy. The logic here being that generally, twins and especially identical ones, are mystically seen as linked and possibly extremely similar but ultimately separate beings. In the case of Slayerness ( and likely some other mystical things tbh ) their status as identical twins confuses it and they’re considered 1 whole slayer and were both called. They both have the standard power set, their slayerness didn’t get split between the two like in the comics.  However they are still intimately linked, for example when Buffy lost all her slayer powers on halloween thanks to her costume, Brooke who wasn’t allowed to go trick or treating was still a Slayer but was only at 50% without Buffy. Even more critically when one dies the other dies as well, instantly regardless of their own status. If Buffy’s at lunch and Brooke gets shot and dies, Buffy would drop dead at the table.  I also work in my base info for her main verse to not overshadow, take away from or anything like that Buffy’s accomplishments as possible without just being like “and Brooke was there”. For example, While I tweak to have Brooke to be the one to drown in the puddle post getting drained by the Master ( Buffy is still there they just both… fuck up and Buffy just got lucky on how she fell after ) Buffy is still the one who jumps in Season 5. Brooke is there for the fight but the most she contributes to that decision is like… confirmation she’s Fine with dying since once Buffy jumps Brooke’s fate is also sealed. The one place things get truly off the rails on that front is season 4.  This info is a basic framework for her main verse, focusing mainly on the things I find kind of a big deal in both understanding her and the changes she makes to events. Some of it is malleable, some not so much generally that’ll depend on plotting and such.  Cutting here bc as you can see...... this is a Long Post.

Trigger warning : addiction and self-harm L.A. 

( I use the movie as a template for how L.A. went down along with a few short stories from the comics. )

Buffy is called at 15 and in finding and beginning to train her it’s discovered that Brooke is also the Slayer which is some wild shit. Neither take it well but Buffy is the one to become institutionalized which prompts Brooke to shut down and become more isolated. To cope with the stressful school-slayer balance she leans on substances first just coffee, then caffeine tablets and later cocaine. Brooke is there for the death of Merrick their first watcher and the attack on the gym. While Buffy is expelled almost immediately afterward Brooke is suspended but after Buffy runs away with Pike for a while to Vegas ala the comics Brooke is expelled for lack of attendance as she’s now crumbling under the weight of everything that’s happened, having no one to talk to and trying to keep up with slaying. While she’s spiraling she also is dumped by her first girlfriend, Samantha from the soccer team. Her addiction is in full swing and she meets Syd, a 19yo Australian warlock at a “party” and they quickly become “friends” and her main supply of drugs. The two of them become a duo for a time and end up with a complex and questionable relationship. She has a few very bad episodes, one full blown drug induced psychosis and would likely be dead if not for slayer constitution. Eventually everything comes to head Buffy is home, the divorce is finalized and her drug addiction comes to light. Part of coming to Sunnydale specifically is because of her rehab. SEASON 1. Brooke is out of the way for most of season 1, either living at her rehab center for the start or basically under house arrest under their mother’s watchful eye later on. She basically can only manage to help with slaying on occasion and is largely regulated to the emergency backup and a researcher. Generally the only way she can be out of the house when not at rehab or therapy is if there’s an adult with her which means she can’t really help much unless they can make up a reason she’s somewhere with Giles. It works somewhat to their advantage as between her not being around much and them being identical, it means no one in the demon community is really aware there’s currently two slayers. She, however, has her own intrigue going on as she begins to figure out that some of her fellow patients are demons ( I mean ofc it’s Sunnydale ) and upon more investigation they learn that half  the staff is also demons and it’s not an evil scheme or something to prey on the patients it’s just a rehab clinic that’s also for demons. She meets her best friend Nicholas, a fear demon, here in a group therapy session. When she finally does start at Sunnydale high she struggles to get along with Willow and Xander who are by then firmly Buffy’s friends. Brooke gravitates to Cordelia but ultimately ends up just spending most of her time with Giles after failing to make her own connections and realizing she can’t possibly try out for the soccer team. ever. Which crushes her more than she likes to admit. Like Xander, from the start she she doesn’t like Angel because of his interest in Buffy and her own interactions with older men while in L.A. but unlike Xander she held her tongue and didn’t try to stop the relationship or get in the way, wanting her sister to be happy and to live her life. She also couldn’t really get complain since it’d be hypocritical of her to chide her for being with an older guy or being cozy with a demon given her own relationship with Syd and her all her friends from rehab being… demons... By the end when they learn their death is prophesied she reacts poorly as well to the revelation, but like Buffy pulls herself together and goes to meet the Master. Both girls end up failing and are drained, by chance, Brooke is the one who lands face down in the puddle and dies taking Buffy down with her.When Brooke is revived Buffy comes back as well and they kill the Master.

SEASON 2. Over the summer with their father Brooke struggles being back in L.A. as it reminds her too much of her addiction and spends much of that time on the phone with Nic talking through everything that’s happened. While there she also runs into Syd again because, of course, who has also sobered up ( motorcycles cost money and if you ride them while high you can total it ) and gets his contact info whether she wants it or not. Cursed Knowledge. Spike’s attack on the school is the first time it’s made explicitly clear there’s two of them since he’s the first one to well, live after seeing both of them and the cat’s officially out of the bag. On Halloween Brooke wasn’t allowed to go out and was at home, costumeless, when things go south. When the gang comes to the house she leaps into action and ends up chasing after Buffy when she flees the house. She comes to the defense of her sister against Spike but quickly realizes without Buffy’s half of the slayer mojo she’s only half as strong as usual but persists against him until the spell is broken. Brooke does meet Kendra and thinks she’s pretty dang neat. When Angel loses his soul Brooke actively steps up on the slaying end, trying to protect her sister from the worst of it though how successful that it is up in the air as despite her efforts she fails to stop his actions or keep Buffy from seeing or learning about what he’s done. Brooke’s involvement comes to a head when she’s kidnapped by Angelus when out on patrol and is held captive and tortured mainly by being introduced to cocaine not too long after Giles is also kidnapped but she’s so out of it she doesn’t realize. Finally her attempts at escape actually work and she bolts out of the mansion in a haze and is only found later in a vacant lot by Nic. She ends up in the hospital and only later finds out Buffy has run away again. SEASON 3. By now Brooke and Nic have made their pact, which means that the two are tied mystically. She can summon him and he can find her. This is not something she makes anyone aware of. When Buffy comes back Brooke is extremely upset feeling that she’s been abandoned twice when she needed Buffy’s support but ultimately also empathizes with Buffy and her heartbreak. When Faith comes to town Brooke finally feels like she’s met someone she can really get along with which causes even more tension. When homecoming comes along Brooke supports Buffy aggressively and ends up being involved in the Slayerfest debacle thanks to it.  When it’s discovered Angel is back Brooke is livid that Buffy never told her but mainly focuses her aggression at Angel himself, finally making it clear she never liked or trusted him and will do what she can to keep them apart.  Skyrocketing the mounting issues between the sisters and pushing her to spend less time with the scoobies and more time with her own demon friends and Faith. As things go on Brooke feels increasingly pulled between her sister and her friendship with Faith. When Faith accidentally kills deputy mayor Brooke helps her cover it up / sides with her, reliving her own fears from her time in L.A. and having a more generally grey view of things. She also attempts to talk to Faith and get her to open up to her but ultimately fails. Brooke talks it over with her mother and decides to not go to college mainly because she doesn’t have any idea what she’d study and only now is finally letting herself mourn the death of her dream of playing pro soccer. She decides to get a job instead and begins the hunt for one with a schedule that works with slayage. Buffy’s attempt to kill Faith in retaliation for poisoning Angel sets Brooke off completely and she almost completely abandons them and leaves for L.A. until her mother and later Giles and the gang talk her out of it and she stays to help stop the mayor (and graduate). As part of the plan for the battle against the Mayor, Brooke gets in contact again with Syd and asks for his help. He arrives and decides business ( read : blood and guts kinda hardcore magic ) will be a lot better on a hellmouth and decides to stay. No one is happy about it. SEASON 4. Sadly the only job she could get was with Nic and some of their friends in their band as a singer since that’s… literally the only thing she wasn’t trash at to her chagrin. She spent much of her time in the summer at the “Hell House” the communal sober living house Nic, his wife Maria, an insanity demon, and all her friends live in to avoid Buffy and to keep herself from falling into the bad habits she really would like to fall into, still deeply upset over Faith. Over the next few months as Buffy struggles to get used to college Brooke begins to reach out again and be there for her, trying to get back to the better relationship they used to have. Occasionally she goes to L.A. with her band for gigs and naturally runs into the L.A. squad because of course that’s how the world works. With their break up pretty permanent and some therapy under her belt her attitude towards Angel is much better she’s still unpleasant but at least funnier about it. Brooke kinda has the beginnings of an alcohol problem but is aware enough to try and fend that off with some help and moral support. When Spike comes to the Scoobies for help Brooke IMMEDIATELY sides with Spike and agrees to help, scared of what happened to him and what it would mean for her friends and potentially her and Buffy. She convinces them to let him live at Hell House instead of trapped with Giles or Xander. As more comes about the Initiative she stops talking the Scoobies when Riley is around or about anything that would be mission critical and they might accidentally tell him or act on. She, her demon friends and Syd decide to attack the Initiative HQ. They kidnap Walsh then Syd uses magic to make Brooke look like her and once she’s in, they use her pact with Nic to guide him as he and Syd use Nic’s ability to travel through shadows to get the whole horde of demons they’d put together for the assault in and then shit just goes wild. In the fray Adam wakes up and escapes before the horde can get to the top secret section. Buffy and the Scoobies find out and Brooke and Buffy are back to being on the outs but work together to defeat Adam. SEASON 5. Brooke takes finding out Dawn is the Key well and basically just continues on as normal. When Joyce becomes sick Brooke spends extensive time with her trying to figure out what she wants her / them to do in the worst case scenario as Brooke knows if she doesn’t have that list she’s going to fall off the deep end if it does happen. Brooke once again tries to take on too much and take some of the stress that’s clearly effecting Buffy off her by trying to do the lion’s share of caring for dawn, their mom and slaying which puts her back in danger of dependency until they finally have a moment and figure out a balance that works for them both and plays to their strengths. Buffy is the one who finds their mother Brooke learns via Phone call. Giles calls Hell House, gets Nic who finds her and tells her. She goes with Buffy to get Dawn. Buffy is the one who jumps to save dawn / the world and Brooke falls dead when she dies.  [ Kinda was running out of willpower here so this section might get added on to ] 

SEASON 6. Brooke is not in Heaven as Brooke actually did crimes and shit and didn’t get a big heroic death to help balance that out. She is in purgatory, specifically a purgatory where the Army of the Repentant Dead fight an endless battle to hold back the endless hordes of demons trying to break through into the mortal realm. Civilizations rising to glory and falling into obscurity around them in what feels like the space of a single breath kinda thing. During the ritual to bring them back Willow works off the fact that they’re linked to try and bring them both back in one go with the spell we see in the show. Buffy, the primary target comes back fine but Brooke as the metaphysical baggage…. Not so much…. She comes back very living dead kinda exactly how you’d think something like this would go if it went bad and Syd has to come in and fix the damage done by Willow as best he can. He can put flesh on her, her heart beating and her mind more here and less "a thousand eons have passed”-y but he cannot do anything about how she reads as Dead magically. Her soul is still technically tied to the Army of the Repentant Dead and her slayer duties and such are basically counting towards that on a cosmic level. Brooke basically spends all her time trying to keep the family together as the one with access to work via the band she hates being in and her connections into the demon community. She works to the bone taking on whatever work she can squeeze in and tries to be there for Buffy and work with her through her depression and well as Willow and her addiction. She falls back on her time as a unkillable dead soldier to power through at the cost of her personality / mental state and at times her health. She asks Xander to teach her more about carpentry / construction so she can have something healthy and productive to do. Too focused on everything else she didn’t consider the nerd squad to be a real threat and shit Goes Down like it did. [ or you know…. We can say that they totally did take care of them or whatever and everything’s Chill bc….. Tara Deserves Better sooooooooooo ya know... ] SEASON 7. Brooke as successfully managed to not become an alcoholic but that’s because she’s fallen into self-harm. Not cutting or similar but hitting herself or walls / objects or just fighting. She and other finally realize this and she actively works to stop the behavior and does a LOT of home improvement until finally the shit gets real and she can focus on the war against the First. During the first fight with Caleb they realize the full repercussions of the Ritual from s6 and learn that she kinda can’t die. Caleb should have killed her and by extension Buffy but she doesn’t die. Brooke, while yes sure everything work like it should for a living person was still not brought back correctly and this is the repercussions of that. If Buffy dies though they both die and Brooke is still able to feel pain and shit so like…. being unable to die is kind of terrible. Syd is able to patch her up but needs fresh human meat to do it so that’s a new grim exciting facet of her life. Brooke once again leans on her Dead Army experience to train the potentials and help with battle plans but generally defers to Buffy as Brooke feels Buffy’s a better leader and Brooke herself a better second in command. Shit pm does down as it does from here. She’s glad to see Faith again but naturally she bounces when they kick Buffy out though not before speaking out against it.   COMICS. OH GOD I DON’T WANNA THINK ABOUT THIS RN. SHE’S DOING SOMETHING.

[onlyjihoons]

prince!taeil

akutagawahakuryuunosuke said:Hello can i request Prince! Taeil who falls in love with witch who sleeping for a hundred years because shes been waiting for the love of her life waking her up, Taeil accidentally woke her up with singing sweetly for her and after that is up to you^^ thank you~♡♡ hope my plot doesnt confuse you heheh

hello!! i’m sorry if this took so long, i hope you’ll like it:-) and uhh i hope you don’t mind of i do this in bulletpoints/head canons, do request if you want me to redo it❤ and i switched it up a little omg i really hope you’ll like it

omg asdfghjkl

im so sorry this took so long ;-;

i had a really big writer’s block for taeil IDK WHY MY BRAIN LOVES JENO

ok anyways

leggo

so

youre currently 16 years old hehe

16 y/o y/n

ok you’re a witch but it aint any of those yknow

uh

evil ones

you were one of those that casted spells for those that needed genuine help

ok and woah you were one of the more popular and powerful ones the younger witches and wizards practically worship you

anyway

one fine day prince!moontae visits you

because his younger sister was down w leukemia :((

and like it was super duper serious and no medicine could cure her

the royal family didn’t believe in witches except for taeil

so he went to your lil cottage house

and practically begged you and you were like

“omg your highness why are you here? shouldn’t you be doing your prince duties instead of being in this godforsaken place?”

ok a lil background story here

you and prince!taeil were acquaintances

bc your mom brought you along to his 5th birthday party or smth

and you two just became friends instantly

thanks to your mom’s spells

but you guys weren’t exactly the closest bc uk prince duties

but you guys would play in the palace garden sometimes

and he would come to visit you when he was bored

ok

back to the story

“my sister’s down with leukemia, pls save her i beg you y/n!!

you were so shookt that taeil would burst into your tiny cottage to ask for help

“I don’t know,, im not really experienced in this area--”

“PLEASE Y/N I LOVE YOU PLEASE SAVE HER IM WILLING TO MARRY YOU IF YOU WANT--”

“wait what”

that’s when taeil finally realises what he was saying,, and he was like

“let me take that back,, i was supposed to tell you that after you cured my sister”

and you were shookt pt2

because 1. you and taeil were just friends-acquaintances

2. he’s from the freaking royal family that doesn’t even know that you’re a witch

but you still go to the royal school bc well,, witches arent exactly as poor as they seem

and you’re just ok whatever let me cure his sister and never think of what he said again

so you casted some spell on a medicine bottle with some healing concoction

bibbity bobboty boo

and you’re like

“here take this, your sister will get better.”

taeil literally hugs you n you drop your cornical flask in shock

“thank you so much y/n, i really appreciate it”

“no worries, just make sure she eats well after that okay!”

before taeil left he’s like

“just saying, i really meant it when i said “i love you” *winks*”

there goes your weak heart

the next day, taeil sees you in the royal school and he literally backhugged you

and you’re trying to get out of his grasp

“what are you doing moon taeil--- you’re not supposed to do this”

btw he rlly likes it when you call him by his full name

“i love you y/n~”

“nO nononononono let’s just get to history in peace pls”

gif:

“you’re so cute omg”

ya’ll are so cute smh

and also do bongsoon and ahn minhyuk are rs goals af

and one of the royal tutors saw

and reported it to the royal family

well the king wasn’t really pleased that taeil has fallen for “normal” people

so he set taeil up with another royalty

taeil didn’t know that until he came back from school and his father was like

“so i heard you have a girlfriend”

“w-what girlfriend---oh”

“break up with her this instant, i found a wife for you.”

“no, i love her”

“HOW CAN YOU LOVE A NORMAL PERSON! YOU DESERVE SO MUCH MORE!”

at this point taeil couldn’t take it and says

“she treated your daughter, how could you say that to her!”

“what?”

“she’s a witch, father, don’t you understand?”

and that only made the king more angry

“i’m giving you 1 day to break up with her or else you’re banished from this palace and the royal family.”

that left taeil with no choice but to go to your lil cottage and tell you the not so good news

“y/n,, im so sorry we have to break up”

“why?”

“i’m getting married”

your weak heart couldn’t process anything again and you’re just like

“okay...i wish you all the best.”

and you weakly pushed taeil out of your cottage and locked the door

your tears fell out without warning and you were like

sobbing so so so hard

taeil could hear from the other side of the door

but he had no choice so he left

and your irrational mind takes over

you remember your sister telling you that if you drank this purple concoction

to mend your broken heart or smth

but you didnt know what was its aftereffects so you just drank it

ok

your sister came back home and saw you lying on the ground

she PANICKT

and she told your mom and she panickt too

until she saw that bottle of purple concoction on the floor

“sigh why is she so foolish”

naturally the next day you didnt report to school and taeil was so worried

so he asked your fellow wizard rowoon

ya’ll blame carmen for this ok

okok i gotta blame myself too cause rowoon’s so cute ugh

anyway

“uhh why is y/n not in school today?”

rowoon sighed

“she took this purple concoction thingy that’s gonna make her sleep for a hundred years,, it seems like she got rejected by someone or smth”

taeil knows its him so he just kept quiet

“how do you even wake her up?”

rowoon shrugged,

“i don’t know honestly, only her family knows how cause they’re the best at it”

taeil genuinely felt so bad he wasn’t even doing his school assignments properly

fast-forward to the day he’s getting married

he went missing

and his fam was super worried cause how in the world can a wedding take place when the groom isnt even here

he went to visit your lil cottage

and he saw you lying on the couch

his heart shattered

he held your smol hands in his and he cried omg

“why are you so foolish y/n??? do you know how much i love you???”

and all of a sudden he starts singing Without You

because he literally can’t live without you

and bAM YOU WOKE UP

i mean not like shoot up wake up

like slowly opened your eyes

ya’ll i can make lameass puns rn but i’m not gonna be a joykill

and you’re like

“!!! what are you doing here?? arent you supposed to get married??”

“yeah i am, getting married to you”

and he kneels down and proposes to you there and then

“will you be my wife, y/n?”

ofc you said yes

and ofc its a happily ever after

im so sorry if this is crap omg

esp rowoon

ok

i really hope you like it<3

[jaeminlore]

No Pain No Gain // Kim Myungjun

-

the prompt: I was wondering if I could get a MJ college au where he has a crush on the school nurse so he ‘gets hurt’ a lot? Have a lovely day!!

words: 2177

category: fluff

author note: this was the cutest and I had a fun time writing it! Also, I made MJ pretty cheeky bc I feel like he would be like that irl.

- destinee

-

Sick kids could be very annoying. As an intern in nursing school, you were offered the opportunity to practice as a school nurse for your university.

The amount of college students who came in to your little office was ridiculous. You never had a slow day because of all the parties students were having. You were well-known for curing hangovers just as much as you were known for patching up a simple scratch.

You never really paid attention to the people who came in and out every day. Getting your job done well and completing enough hours for your credits was all that really mattered to you.

Although, there was one boy you couldn’t ignore. He came in at least twice a week with the strangest injuries imaginable. Just last week he came in claiming that his brow bone was sore.

You had no idea what that meant and if it was technically even an ailment, but you handed him an ice pack anyway.

Another time, he came in with a paper cut, which you promptly covered with a bandaid.

He was a music major named Myungjun, although everyone called him MJ. He was popular around campus for his high vocal range and equally well-known for being loud and funny.

You wondered why he got hurt so much, or why he came in for something as simple as a paper cut. Perhaps he had a low pain tolerance?

The office was empty at the moment, so you sat on the little bed and went through your phone to pass the time.

Someone knocked on your door, and you pocketed your phone respectfully. “Come in!”

There was no surprise who stood in your doorway. MJ limped into your office and hopped up on the bed.

“What happened this time?” You asked, rolling your eyes.

“I tripped and sprained my ankle,” MJ replied.

You pursed your lips. It was so hard to believe him sometimes. “Okay, take off your shoes.”

He obliged, smiling as he showed you his ankle. “Look, its swollen.”

You examined his ankle. It wasn’t discolored or anything. It wasn’t even swollen. “Are you sure you sprained this?”

“Positive,” MJ nodded.

You pressed your fingers into his ankle and he didn’t flinch. “I don’t think it’s sprained.”

“Oh, I must’ve been mistaken,” MJ said. He shrugged innocently.

You glared at him, but his cheerful eyes deterred you from being angry. “MJ, you can’t come in here when you aren’t hurt. You’re wasting my time.”

“I only come in when I’m really hurt.” MJ insisted. “I promise.”

You didn’t believe him, “Just try to lessen your visits.”

-

He obviously didn’t listen to your advice, for he came in the next day, holding his ribs.

“My friend kicked me,” he huffed. “My ribs might actually be broken.”

You rolled your eyes. “MJ, one playful kick cannot brake your ribs.”

“Rocky takes Taekwondo,” MJ replied. “He can break my ribs for certain.”

“Fine. Sit down.”

MJ obliged and sat down carefully. He was sure to wince in the all the right places, enough to make you think he might not have been faking.

“Lift your shirt.” You told him.

He lifted it, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

Without thinking of his intentions to show you his clearly sculpted figure, you pushed against his ribs gently. “Does that hurt?”

“Yeah,” MJ answered. “Hey, Y/n?”

“Hmm?” You moved away and washed your hands.

“Can you tell I’ve been working out?”

You turned off the faucet and looked at MJ. Your gaze accidentally drifted to his dark and toned stomach. You cleared your throat and looked up at the ceiling. “Put your shirt down.” You told him.

MJ blinked innocently and tugged his shirt down. “Well, can you?”

Why was he even asking you a question like that? You were a nurse. You weren’t a physical trainer.

“That doesn’t matter.”

“That’s a yes,” MJ stood up.

“Be careful,” You said, reaching over to help him off of the bed. “Your ribs might still be sore.”

MJ grabbed your hands and squealed in a very unmanly way. “Do you care about me, Y/n?”

You rolled your eyes and pushed his hand away, “I’m a nurse, you idiot.”

“I didn’t hear a no,” he sang.

Your eyes couldn’t roll further up your head if they tried. “Goodbye, MJ.”

“Goodbye, Y/n!”

-

“I don’t care if your cat scratched you, MJ, that’s not my concern.”

MJ held out his arm, where a small puffed-up scratch decorated his wrist. “It’s infected, though.”

“So go home and put some ointment on it.” You told him.

Your mood wasn’t the best that day, which is why you were deflecting any effort MJ made to get a reaction out of you.

“Why can’t you give me ointment while I’m here?” MJ pressed.

“Because you’re not hurt!” You told him harshly. MJ’s eyes widened a bit at your raised voice.

“You’re wasting my time,” You continued. “So stop coming in here with stupid excuses! I don’t know what game you’re playing but it’s annoying and obnoxious so stop.”

MJ bowed his head shamefully and stood up.

Immediately, you felt bad for your harsh words. He wasn’t really obnoxious. In fact, his visits often amused you in a positive way. He just chose the wrong day to push you, and you lashed out on him.

All of the pressure of nursing school had been getting to you, and you kept it all bundled up until your frustration boiled over.

“MJ,” you started, reaching out for his retreating form.

“No, you’re right.” He whispered. You wished he would turn around and give you a reassuring smile. “I do come in here too much. I won’t anymore though, so don’t worry.”

He left, closing the door behind him.

-

It had been a month. You felt pathetic. Every time someone would knock on your door, you would pray for it to be MJ, coming in with something stupid like a stubbed toe.

His company was enjoyable for you. It had never occurred to you how much you appreciated MJ’s constant visits until he stopped them.

When he finally did come in, it was in the arms of his closest friends.

One was a fellow nursing major, Eunwoo, and the other one, Jinwoo, was here on a baseball scholarship.

Between them was MJ, held up by his friends arms.

“What happened?” You asked frantically, gesturing for them to lay MJ on the bed.

“He passed out in chorus,” Eunwoo said. He pressed a hand against MJ’s forehead. “His fever is really high.”

“Why wouldn’t he come get some medicine?” Jinwoo asked.

You knew exactly why, and the reason broke your heart. Would MJ rather faint of a fever rather than break his promise and come back to your office?

“You guys can go,” you said as you grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer. “I’ll take it from here.”

After they left, you wrapped the ice pack in a towel and brought it over to MJ. You brushed back his bangs, heavy with perspiration. His entire face glistened with sweat, and his lips trembled in a way that fever victim’s do.

You rested the ice pack on his forehead and moved around the office, grabbing supplies like ibuprofen and a thermometer.

After finding out that he was running an hundred and two degree fever, you lifted him into a sitting position.

He was somewhat awake, but he wouldn’t open his eyes or speak.

“MJ, you need to take this medicine. It’ll bring your fever down, okay?”

He sluggishly nodded, so you helped him swallow the pills.

After making him drink an entire bottle of water, you eased him back into a lying down position.

“Y/n?” MJ spoke, his voice quiet and raspy.

“I’m here,” you said, grabbing his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be here.”

He obliged. You kept a hold on his hand as his breathing became slower and slower.

For the next three hours, you kept a watch on him as he slept. His temperature went down to ninety-nine degrees, which was a great improvement for him.

When he woke up, he was a tad disoriented. You came over to his side and checked his temperature again. He looked up at you, and asked, “Are you an angel?”

Only he still had the thermometer under his tongue, so it sounded like, “Aru a anthel?“

The gleam in his eyes was back, so you knew he was just teasing you again.

Your smile grew, until you were reminded of why he came in here so late anyway. “Never scare me like that again,” you said sternly. “Why would you not come here with a fever? The one legitimate illness you have and you don’t come. What is that all about?”

MJ sat up and looked at you guiltily. “You told me not to come back. I was afraid that the fever wasn’t that serious and I would waste your time.”

“I’m sorry for lashing out at you.” You said. MJ watched as you wring you hands together nervously and continued, “I had a bad day and I took it out on you. The truth is, I really enjoy your company. Without you my job is really boring.”

“Really?” MJ’s voice lifted. His lips broke into a smile. “I knew the Myungjun charm would pull through.”

“That was definitely it,” you deadpanned. Then, resuming your nurse status, you handed MJ a bottle of medicine. “Take two of these pills once for the next two days, just to make sure the fever is completely gone.”

“Okay.” MJ accepted the bottle. “You always take good care of me, Y/n.”

You stopped in your tracks. “O-of course. I take good care of all my patients.”

MJ’s words had unwillingly made you blush. He was right, you always took good care of him because you had become quite fond of the troublemaker. Of course, you couldn’t let him think that.

“I’ll let you say whatever you want,” MJ teased, “but I know you took care of me the whole time I was out. That means you care.”

You rolled your eyes, “Just leave before I really get annoyed by you.”

MJ smiled and gave you a mock-salute. “Yes, ma'am.”

You shook your head at him fondly as he left the room.

-

Just the next week, MJ was back to his old self. His fever was gone and his energy was back to its normal level.

This time, he slipped into your office holding out his thumb. “I pricked it on a thorn and now it’s bleeding.”

As you bandaged it, MJ peered down at you, “Aren’t you going to ask me how I pricked it.”

You sighed, “How did you prick it, MJ? I’m dying to know.”

MJ ignored your sarcasm and smiled proudly. “I was picking a rose to give to my girlfriend.”

Without warning, your heart dropped to your stomach. “You have a girlfriend?”

Why did you even care?

“Well, not yet.” MJ gave you a cheeky smile. “I’m going to confess to her with the rose. Then she’ll be my girlfriend.”

“Oh,” you finished wrapping his thumb with a bandaid. “Well, good luck.”

“Thanks!” MJ chuckled softly. “She doesn’t like me much so I wonder what she’ll say.”

You swallowed your pride. “I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

You looked up to see MJ already looking at you. His eyes fell to your lips before he licked his own and turned away. “Would you?”

“Would I what?”

He looked at you again, his eyes holding your gaze. “Would you say yes, if it was you.”

You could feel his breathing across you face, and it only made you lean closer to him subconsciously.

His lips were inches from yours. He waited for your answer. “Would you, Y/n?”

You slowly nodded. That was all the confirmation he needed to close the gap and give you a soft kiss.

His lips molded into yours and you felt his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You kissed him back, accepting your own feelings towards the eccentric boy.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for the longest time,” MJ mumbled when the two of you parted. His eyes were still closed as he leaned his forehead against yours. “It’s really a shame I forgot to bring the rose.”

You laughed and slapped his arm. “You scared me. I thought you liked someone else.”

MJ rolled his eyes, “Why would I come into your office three times a week if I weren’t interested in you?”

“I don’t know. Your excuses sucked by the way.”

“Hey, the kick in the ribs wasn’t an excuse. I actually asked Rocky to kick me in the ribs.”

“Really?” You looked up at him in disbelief.

MJ reached down and kissed your nose, “No pain, no gain is what I always say.”

“Your ridiculous.”

“And I’m all yours,” He shot you a smirk.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

~the end~

[garancefranke-ruta]

“Do your job!”: Rowdy Republican town halls a sign of things to come

The town hall meeting held by House Oversight Committee Chair Jason Chaffetz in a Salt Lake City suburb Thursday night was raucous, packed — and a sign of things to come.

The meeting had to be moved to accommodate the crowd, and still hundreds of people couldn’t get in, waiting outside it and chanting, “Your last term!” after it was over. The Salt Lake County GOP knew it was going to be packed, and urged its members Tuesday to turn out to counter an expected wave of angry resistance movement attendees. It didn’t make any difference.

The room in Cottonwood Heights held more than 1,000, and was quickly filled.

Auditorium for Cong Chaffetz Town hall packed. Police say 1000 outside. Now chanting, "You work for us!" @UtahIndivisible @IndivisibleTeam pic.twitter.com/R9iDakiWrZ

— Kyung Lah (@KyungLahCNN) February 10, 2017

Attendees chanted “Let them in!” when the doors were shut, and “Do your job!” after Chaffetz, a Republican who represents Utah’s third congressional district, was pressed on why he was not conducting oversight into the Trump administration with the same vigor he’d pursued Hillary Clinton.

Cong Chaffetz Town Hall crowd chanting "Do your job!" He's having a hard time answering over crowd noise @UtahIndivisible @IndivisibleTeam pic.twitter.com/gO0BXybGy5

— Kyung Lah (@KyungLahCNN) February 10, 2017

After the Women’s March on Washington and its sister marches around the country turned into the largest street protests in American history, and after a robust array of groups helped drive the calls that led to the busiest three days in Capitol switchboard history, the progressive anti-Trump movement that’s loosely organized under the banner of “the resistance” has a third target in sight: congressional town halls.

In fact, just as the confrontational Chaffetz town hall was getting started, an online video training about how to put members of Congress on the spot at town halls was winding down. The founders of the post-election group Indivisible — which aims to build a progressive version of the tea party movement — and the representatives from Organizing for America — the advocacy group that grew out of the 2008 Obama for America campaign — had come together to teach a new generation of progressives spurred to action by Trump the fine art of putting the screws to their members of Congress during the upcoming congressional recess, which begins on Feb. 20.

Their three main messages: Organize and show up. Your member of Congress works for you. And, critically, the old Internet dictum: “Pics or it didn’t happen.”

Trainer Angel Padilla of Indivisible advised going to meetings and town halls with a group and “make sure you record, record as much as you can.” That means during the meeting, before the meeting and after meeting, too — especially if filming is shut down during the meeting.  “When you get a good interaction with a member, it can really get amplified when it’s caught on video,” he said. “Go in a group. It’s easier to ignore one person.”

It’s not just publicly advertised town halls that are on the district recess agenda. Activists interested in preserving the Affordable Car Act are being urge to request town halls, too, as well as district meetings with senior staff. And they are being urged to show up at all public district events, from ribbon-cuttings to walkabouts to office hours.

Already they are coming up with creative approaches. “For Resist Trump Tuesday office visits we use a ‘Donuts with Dialogue’ model. We take donuts for staffers and target specific issues & tell stories. Each time, we have been met with respect and staffers take notes,” wrote Grace Haynes in the group chat accompanying the video call.

“Austin TX, people here are meeting every single Tuesday at lunch at John Cornyn’s office bc phone lines don’t work,” added Kristy Sprott.

The current efflorescence of activism is so intense that it comes with the risk of overloading the system and causing members to shut out even voices they might want to be listening to. “I’m in a red district and one of my MOCs has been complaining about being bombarded by individuals outside of the state. I’ve noticed that his people have stopped asking for my zip code when I call. Thinking that my calls are now being discredited be/c they are getting so many out of district,” wrote one watcher during the OFA-Indivisible training.

That’s explains the emphasis on in-person, in-district action. The entire premise of Indivisible is that members of Congress — and especially members of the House, who face voters every two years — care first and foremost about reelection, and thus about anyone who can help or hurt on that front, regardless of broader national currents of public opinion. “Constituents are really important to members of Congress and other people are not. If you’re not a member of Congress’s constituent, they don’t care what you think,” explained Matt Traldi, one of the leaders of Indivisible, during the video call. He said that after study of the tea party, which came into power when Obama had a super-majority on Congress and was enormously popular and still managed to significantly slow his agenda, or even block it, he believed that progressives could be even more effective in light of the new president’s unpopularity. “Trump’s agenda is not just a bad one, it’s also very unpopular. If we stick to the facts…we can win,” he said.

But that requires the same single-minded focus that characterized the tea party  in 2009-2011. The tea party “focused on saying no to the president’s agenda,” he said. “We should absolutely replicate that right now.”

Donald Aguirre is just the sort of person the national organizers are counting on. A Utahn with what he described as “an office job” at a communications company, he co-founded Utah Indivisible along with two fellow millennials, sisters who work as a nurse and a 9/11 dispatcher. The group is one of three local Indivisible groups that turned out at the Chaffetz town hall. It’s so new it just held its first protest, organized online in opposition to the confirmation of Education Secretary Betsy DeVos, and has yet to hold its first in-person meeting. The group has drawn Democrats, Republicans and libertarians, Aguirre said. He estimated that, all told, the three Indivisible groups combined had turned out maybe 100 people to the town hall. Others came representing other groups. But many came on their own.

CNN reported from the scene that most of those at the town hall were attending one for the first time in their lives.

About this turnout: The first dozen people I interviewed at the #Chaffetz town hall said they'd never been to one before.

— Eric Bradner (@ericbradner) February 10, 2017

“Even though we had members of Congress and senators that denounced the words that Donald Trump was saying, they condemned his actions, like that video of him talking about grabbing ladies, it’s too much hypocrisy with people saying they stand for something, then they don’t. We got sick and tired of members of Congress not really representing us but towing the party line,” said Aguirre. He livestreamed the town hall on Facebook to the group. (You can watch the full Chaffetz town hall, as recorded by Aguirre, here.)

Indivisble, OFA and other activist groups such as MoveOn have also been holding twice-a-week calls to compare notes and catalog all the events Republicans are having in their districts, with the goal of fostering a massive mobilization at the local level to have an impact in a strategic way. Among the new groups they’ve been relying on in this process is the Town Hall Project 2018.

Co-founded by Nathan Williams, a political field organizer who worked on Obama’s 2008 campaign and in 2016 helped turn out voters in Las Vegas for the League of Conservation voters, and by Clinton 2016 campaign field organizer Jimmy Dahman, the all-volunteer group saw an opening after the election to give people the tools they needed to continue expressing themselves to their representatives, Williams said. They snagged an off-the-shelf interface to promote a simple concept: A Google Document with a complete list of upcoming congressional town hall meetings, launching the Town Hall Project 2018 with the help of volunteer labor from dozens of Democratic field organizers in their network. Many of them were, like Williams, unemployed after the end of the 2016 campaign. Now that guide is being used by Indivisible and other groups.

Planned Parenthood also has been actively rallying members to confront members of Congress at town halls, holding a series of forums across the country in communities beyond the big cities. That paid off in a big way Thursday night in Murfreesboro, Tenn., where Rep. Diane Black, a conservative Republican who wants to roll back Obamacare and defund Planned Parenthood, was confronted by women wearing or carrying the group’s logo.

In other news: the rowdy scene outside of a healthcare townhall in Murfreesboro, TN, tonight: pic.twitter.com/AIIeir61kz

— MJ Lee (@mj_lee) February 10, 2017

Her town hall on Obamacare was so swamped that a woman from the back of the crowd that was trying to get in cried out, “If you want to represent us, let us in!”

Chaffetz was also confronted by a Planned Parenthood patient Thursday. The national organization sent video of the confrontation to reporters Friday, in case they’d missed it.

The woman stood to testify that when she found herself at high risk for cervical cancer as a single mother of three with no health insurance, she relied on Planned Parenthood for her annual screening tests. “Sir, can you please tell me, can you explain to  why you are trying to take that vital health provider away from women like me?” she asked.

Chaffetz replied with a story about his mother, who was diagnosed with breast cancer in her 30s, then drew murmurs of outrage when it seemed like he might be avoiding a direct answer and moving into a story about his wife.  He shushed the crowd. “I want her to know that I care about this, and I care deeply and I care personally,” he said, seeking to address the questioner directly.  His further answer — “My concern is to give that organization federal taxpayer dollars when we have so many in our community that disagree with that” and that he thought there would be “a better use of the money” — drew deep boos and shouts from the audience.

In Tennessee, a woman from Black’s district who described herself as a Christian, spoke up feelingly for the ACA as “the healthy people pull up the sick.”

Seriously urge everyone to watch this entire question from a woman at GOP #Obamacare townhall in Tennessee: pic.twitter.com/8mBGE1z6Rj

— MJ Lee (@mj_lee) February 10, 2017

“I HAVE to have coverage in order to make sure that I don’t die,” said Mike Carlson, a 32-year-old student from Antioch, Tenn., according to CNN.

"I HAVE to have coverage in order to make sure that I don't die… and you want to take away this coverage?" #ObamacareTownhall pic.twitter.com/C2JtPcOuGA

— MJ Lee (@mj_lee) February 10, 2017

But it the anger wasn’t all about ACA and Planned Parenthood. At Chaffetz’s town hall, constituents spoke up about tribal sovereignty and the Bears Ears National Monument, which was designated by President Obama and which Chaffetz opposes. A six-year-old girl spoke up on behalf of science. And a former teacher drew cheers when she asked Chaffetz, “what is your line in the sand” when it comes to impeaching President Trump.

At rowdy town hall, ex-teacher asks Chaffetz — chair of House oversight — “what’s your line in the sand” for Trump? pic.twitter.com/8U7IkpZtsS

— Dan Diamond (@ddiamond) February 10, 2017