#fuck you fuck you fuck you you made the pandemic worse how fucking dare you try to use that shit in your campaign

[kabutone]

d/n/c like “four years ago this would have been a super spreader, but here we are, no masks! how does that make you feel as a healthcare professional” n this bitch answers that like ‘oh it’s great! glad we’re all vaccinated now!’

IT WILL BE IT STILL WILL BE A SUPERSPREADER AND EVERYONES VACCINE IS OUT OF DATE BC IT WANES AFTER 6 MONTHS !!!!!!!! UR JUST GONNA IGNORE IT AND PRETEND ITS NOT REAL

[hyunnieshannie]

Boundless

Series: Boundless

Word Count: 2,832

Pairing: Hyunjin x Female Reader

Genre/Warnings: Fantasy AU, Non Idol Au, harsh words (swearing) Dom!Hyunjin, degradation, mentions of anxiety, sex as a dare, self esteem issues, mentions names of other idols. (Anything else I have missed just let me know and will be added in, more warnings will be added with each chapter update)

A/N: this is my first attempt at writing a proper fic with smut included. I hope you enjoy🖤

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~Prologue~

The world can be so beautiful. Simple things like the changing of the seasons, to the way the clouds look on a particularly sunny day, how the flowers bloom vibrantly after a beautiful white winter. But the key word for you, was can. To you the world was dull and these days seemed more dull than ever. You had been trapped in your home for two years, during the pandemic and now that it’s finally over the world felt as if it had only gotten worse. People had forgotten how to properly socialize without staring deep into their phones, and due to this people had forgotten what basic human decency was. All your life you had felt the overbearing negativity of this world. Elementary school was certainly the easiest. You had a small group of friends which you played with everyday, but when middle school hit; one by one those friends disappeared. And by the time you were in highschool you had learned that you didn’t need a big group of people around you. You were much more interested in reading, and focusing on yourself and so that's exactly what you did. You had friends in highschool, but not ones you considered close. And as they say, people come and go. This was life. Now that you’ve been accepted to your choice college, you figured maybe this could be a new start, a new school in a new state. Living on your own (with a roommate) of course on campus. Maybe you could reinvent yourself. But in a world of impossible beauty standards and expectations of how to act and be noticed, your attempts to fit in never worked out. Because you are no supermodel, or an extraordinarily social person, you are unbelievably. Ordinary. 

Your roommate would often spend nights away from the dorm, and you found yourself feeling more homesick with each passing day. You didn’t make many friends, as your anxiety would get in the way of talking to new people. You got lonely very quickly, and thus drew back to your favorite form of comfort. Reading. People suck, and often never offer the same type of comfort a good book would. You read anything that caught your eye with a good plot, sci-fi, fantasy, historical fiction, even the occasional romance. You got attached to characters, laughed with them, cried with them and grew with them. And that was more than what you could say for the so called ‘friends’ you had made throughout your life. “Ah he’s such a red flag!” you mutter to yourself, as you sat cozily in your dorm room. “He's just going to hurt you, walk away! Go to Wooyoung! He loves you!” you turn the page eager to read the next chapter, but unfortunately for you, your timer goes off notifying you, it was time to start walking over to your class. You picked yourself up and groaned, disappointed you couldn't continue the next chapter, where the characters would definitely fight for the main protagonist's hand in marriage. You wanted to know if she’d really choose Yeonjun the (in your opinion) selfish prince over Wooyoung, the (in your very biased opinion) wonderful bookkeeper. “Ugh, fuck it” you say as you snatch the book from off your bed, opening it up to where you left off, reading as you walked to class. “I hate to admit it Tzuyu, Yeonjun isn’t that bad,” you say as you flip the page, “But the cute bookkeeper treated you better”. You didn't realize you were speaking aloud until someone behind you whispered to their friend. 

“How strange.” she giggled, 

“See this is why I don’t go back to my dorm often,” the other whispers back, maybe they didn’t know you could hear them, or maybe they intended for you to hear them but still it stung to know they were there literally talking behind your back. The two girls pick up their pace and walk past you laughing as they do. You look to your roommate, who ignores you. You were used to this. Either you were ignored like some sort of ghost that no one noticed. Or they spoke about you with little regard towards your feelings. It didn’t bother you as much as it used to throughout highschool but now you’d have to deal with occasionally seeing your roommate in the dorm knowing how she actually felt about you. 

“Ignore them,” a voice sounds from behind you, you look up to see Changbin walking towards you, “They’re just bitchess with nothing better to do,” he smiles warmly at you, Changbin was someone you met your first year of college during orientation. He was a well built man, with incredibly gorgeous features. Toned muscles from going to the gym often and a beautiful smile. How can anyone be so incredibly good looking you thought to yourself, “So Y/N, are you going to the party tonight?” your heart races as he says your name, you didn’t even know that he knew it. You’ve barely spoken to him, only in passing during class. But that didn’t stop you from having the biggest crush on him. You often wondered what it would be like to have him pick you up and pin you against the wall as he kissed you harshly, a curiosity you would never satisfy. 

“Party?” you say, 

“The one Jisungs throwing.” he smiles, 

“Oh,” you hadn’t been invited but you didn’t want to admit that to him, “No, I have to study for a test.” you force a weak smile at him, 

“Oh come on Y/N come it’ll be fun, I haven’t seen you at any of the other parties so you have to come to this one.” Did he have to make that comment? Of course you hadn’t gone to the others, how could you go somewhere when you weren’t even invited?

“I don’t really like big crowds of people, and I don’t have anyone to go with on such short notice.”  

“You don’t need a date for a party you know?” 

“I don’t know a lot of people, the way you and Jisung do. It’s not really about a date, it’s more less wanting someone familiar with me so I don’t get nervous” you laugh, the two of you continue walking towards the lecture hall with an awkward silence, you sneak a look at Changbin who looks like he’s in deep thought. 

“Okay I got it then!” He says as the two of you walk into the building, Jisung who stood waiting by a vending machine yells for Changbin's attention and he waves to him, then looks back at you “So” you look up at him confused, “you’d go if someone you knew would be there right?” he asks, you nod in response, “Perfect, I’ll pick you up at seven.” he smiles, but before you could tell him that wasn’t what you meant he waves back to you as he runs off to catch up with Jisung and his other friends he turns back to you, and yells “Seven be outside your dorm!” you nod. Changbin invited me to a party, you think to yourself, your heart fluttering. Your crush wanted you to go so badly, he offered to be your date. You smile at the thought.

After popping out of the shower, you carefully do your makeup, and pick out a short black dress from your closet. And once you’re ready you head downstairs to wait for Changbin. As you walk out the doors you see he’s already standing there looking at his phone, he looks back up when he hears you approach him. “Damn Y/N I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything other than jeans and a hoodie.” he smiles, 

“Is that a good or bad thing?” 

“Well you look good in your hoodies, but you look good like this too, I could get used to it,” he smirks, your heart pounding. He thinks I look good in my usual outfits.. Does that mean he’s looked at you the way you have him? The two of you leave walking off campus and towards Jisungs home which was fairly close. The music booms through speakers, and large crowds of  people who are already visibly drunk dance and talk all around. Changbin guides you through the doors and greets everyone who comes up to him. He doesn’t leave your side until he offers to get you a drink. 

“Y/N?” Jisung says as he walks up to you, “No way Bin actually got you to come!” he says, “You look hot, didn't expect that out of you” he laughs, 

“Thanks?” you say questioning what he meant by that, 

“Fuck off Jisung,” Changbin says as he returns with two drinks, 

“Oh come on I’m just fucking around,” Jisung laughs, as Changbin hands you your drink, “anyways Y/N I need to borrow Bin, I gotta talk to him about this thing we had planned.” he smiles at you cheerfully as he grabs Changbins arm and drags him away. Half an hour passes and Changbin hasn’t returned. Your anxiety begins to get to you as you stand alone in a room full of people. You make your way to the kitchen and stop when you hear a familiar voice, “If you can’t do it Bin you lose the bet, and you know what that means bro” Jisung laughs, 

“The girls never been to a party Ji” Changbin sighs, “It took me giving her no option to come how the fuck am I gonna get her to-” 

“She's probably drunk by now, little miss bookworm probably hasn’t ever drank either so it should be easy,” a girl laughs, 

“Nah thats fucked up if shes drunk im not going through with it,” Changbin says, staringcoldly at the girl,

“Awe don’t tell me you’re starting to rethink the dare Binnie” your roommates voice sounds from another area in the kitchen that you can’t see. 

“I’m not rethinking shit, I’m just not gonna fucking do it if shes drunk. Thats beyond fucked up” 

“I agree with Bin, if she's drunk that's not cool.” Jisung says with a serious face. 

“It’s a little late for fucked up dont you think? You accepted a dare to literally fuck the loser on campus for a measly fifty bucks. Whats fucked up is how far your rep is gonna drop when people find out” the girl laughs, your heart stings hearing her words. He was dared to fuck you. 

“Common Binnie it’s easy poor girls got it bad for you, she’d probably jump at the chance, think of how funny it would be” Because of course how funny would it be if the boy the loser has a crush on fucks her for a dare, wow what a great joke. With that Changbin notices you standing there, you’ve heard everything. You turn around and walk straight out of the party, your chest stings, and tears stream down your cheek. Because who was I to think he’d actually be interested in me. He chases you down the street as you continue to walk faster, wanting nothing more than to get away from him, 

“Y/N! Wait” he yells out, as he grabs onto your wrist, 

“Get away from me.” you hiss, your face heating up with anger and hurt, 

“Y/N please let me explain,” you jerk your hand away from him, he looks hurt and confused by your action how fucking dare he look at me like that. Did he think because you had a crush on him you’d melt to his touch? That you’d let him explain his stupid fucking dare? No.

“Seo Changbin, don’t you ever come near me again,” you turn around walking away from him, you walk back towards your dorm, in tears. Everything that happened tonight was straight out of a drama and you couldn’t believe these things actually happened in real life. As you walk back on to campus you see the light from the library still on, the one place you know you can find exactly what you need. Comfort. You make your way inside where the librarian sits peacefully reading a book, 

“Y/N!” he yells, knowing the library is currently empty, 

“What are you doing here so late Mr. Lee?” 

“I was going to ask you the same question, miss Y/LN, is everything alright?” he asks, 

“Just a bit of heartbreak,” you whisper, his face showing signs of concern, “That book you gave me really tore me apart you know!” you force a laugh, you really weren't ready to explain this situation to anyone let alone, the only person who ever spoke to you as an equal. 

“Oh!” he laughs, “I had the same reaction! Well I’m glad you're here,” he says, “What kind of book are you looking for tonight?” he says, 

“Something that will take me far away from here,” you smile, 

“Well, I may be able to help with that,” he gets up and opens the door to his office, walking out with a small bag, “I was going to save this one for your birthday next week but it seems I’ve broken your heart with my last gift so consider this one to be the one that mends it” he smiles, 

“You didn’t have to mr. Lee,” you say as you take the bag from him, 

“Well I was out with one of your teachers and it caught my eye and I thought to myself, Lee Taemin if you do not bring this book back to your favorite reader you will regret it,” he laughs, “I kid you not, it called out to me as if begging me to bring it back for you” 

“Maybe it was calling out for you!” you laugh, 

“No, it was definitely calling for you,” he smiles, “Now go on, get home.” he smiles, you thank him once again for the gift and begin to leave, “Oh and Y/N” you turn back around to see what he called you for, “The boy who made you cry tonight, never deserved to be blessed with the gift of your heart. Write the story your heart deserves.” he smiles at you, like a brother trying to comfort his heartbroken younger sister. 

“Thank you,” you say weakly smiling at him as you exit the library. 

You wash the makeup off and change into a comfortable pair of leggings and a large hoodie, sliding into bed and laying down to stare at the ceiling. The events of that night are still eating away at your heart. You turn to your side and stare at the gift from Mr. Lee. you sit back up, turning the lamp on your side table on, opening the bag and staring at the large book that lay within it. The beautifully decorated leather cover that you could tell was handmade, a reddish brown with gorgeous gold details, the pages with gold trimming shone brightly under the light. It was magnificent, and by far the most beautiful book to be added to your collection. Almost like mr. Lee said, you felt a pull from it begging to be opened, to be read. It called out to you. You trace your fingers over the golden indented title, Boundless. You open the book carefully, turning the first page, from its title page, only to find it completely empty. There is no table of contents, you turn to the next page, once again empty. You flip through the whole book and there's nothing. You sit the book down, thinking of how strange it is for a book of this size to be empty, maybe it was sold by mistake? Just then the alarm on your clock on the nightstand goes off, you panic trying to shut it down. Did you accidentally set an alarm? No. You never would’ve set one for eleven pm, nor am. The light on your desk flickers and the room falls into a deep darkness, your heart begins to beat out of your chest and fear sinks in, just then the whispering starts, “Am i going crazy?” you say out loud, the whispers grow louder, and louder until light shines again, but not from your lamp, the book itself glows vibrantly illuminating the dark room around you. “Y/N…Y/N… Y/N!” the whispers chant, the book flies open landing on a page directly in the middle of the book, in a panicked state you jump off your bed wondering what could possibly be going on, but your head spins, or is the room spinning? You couldn't tell, the whispers growing into loud shouting, you drop down into a ball covering your ears, squeezing your eyes shut. You feel something pulling at you, you let out a scream as your body finally gives way and you’re being dragged back onto your bed, “Help!” was the last thing anyone would have heard coming from your dorm.

~~~~

Tags: @thvjnm @chanlixiiee @channiesbub @jaebaebaegot7 @maeleelee @iadorethemskz @maenijw @hangin-out-with-the-street-rats @jinniespuppy @painstakingly-juno @lethallyprotected @mimi-sierra04

[ericspinkhair]

quarantine longings

pairing: best friend!kevin x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

synopsis: you and your best friend have sex because quarantine made you horny

warnings: best friends to lovers, takes place during the pandemic, spoiler of 356 days (but not the end, just generally the plot), no use of condoms but only the pill, creampie, sexual fantasies, fingering, hand-job, sex, slight angst at the end if you squint

a/n: I would literally die for kevin, I love him so much. I'll be writing a multiple parts series about him after I'm done writing scenarios for every member first.

requests are open!

masterlist + requests

you slammed your foot hard against the wall and cursed in pain. you hopped on one foot to your bed, holding your other leg in agony and tasted blood as you bit your lip to keep the volume of your suffering groans in check. someone knocked on the door.

'are you okay?' your roommate asked concerned.

'no, leave me alone, kevin,' you croaked out. you wanted to suffer by yourself.

there was an awkward silence and then you heard him sigh. soon after, the door next to your room closed shut.

why were you so frustrated, one might ask? well, the pandemic was kicking your butt and you just couldn't take it anymore. when the news of the virus had first spread, no one thought it would become this serious. but suddenly everyone was walking around with masks and spent most of their time staying at home.

after graduating high school, you and kevin had decided to move in together for college because both of you were broke and couldn't afford to live alone. you had been best friends since middle school and had been convinced that it was a smart idea at the time.

and everything went smoothly for the first one and a half years. however, after not seeing anyone else since the start of the pandemic over a year ago, it became increasingly difficult to share an apartment, but not in the way one might assume. you were neither sick of each other nor did you fight a lot. to tell the truth, it was quite the opposite.

earlier, before you had kicked the wall in anger, the two of you had painted together. kevin was majoring in art and, since you didn't have anything better to do, you joined him while he did projects for his classes. you might have been majoring in journalism but you had always liked drawing and painting, even though you weren't particularly skilled. you were a naturally clumsy person, always tripping over air and dropping things. today you were hecticly moving around your hands while telling him about a stupid video you had seen and you accidently let go of the brush in your hand. it hit the side of kevin's face, leaving a wide splodge of red paint on his right cheek.

to get back at you, he jerked his paint brush and splattered some green color on your white shirt. you saw this as a challenge and soon both of you were both drenched in the colors of the rainbow, laughing hysterically on the floor, not caring that you were spreading the paint on the poor carpet.

you turned your heads to look at each other and you felt absolutely in peace. you loved this man and couldn't be more glad that it was him and not anyone else you were stuck with inside of this apartment.

he stood up to take off his stained shirt and your smile quickly faded off your face. your lips slightly parted and you couldn't help but stare at his now exposed biceps and abs.

your mouth watered and you felt heat pooling between your legs as you took your time to study his architecture. thoughts about how badly you wanted him to thrust into you while his strong arms held you up invaded your mind. you tried to shake them off but it was impossible.

occasions like this were slowly becoming a common occurrence for you.

having mostly stayed inside for over a year, also meant that you didn't have sex for that long. it's not like you were the horniest person on the planet but you still had needs that were being neglected. with kevin being home all the time you didn't even dare to masturbate, scared that he would be able to hear you through the frustratingly thin walls. you must have gone insane with all the lust building up inside you and that's why you suddenly craved to have sex with your best friend. this whole thing was destroying everything. it was hard to act normal when he was making you this nervous and heated but you tried to pretend that everything was fine anyway for the sake of your friendship.

that was the reason why you were angry and had hurt yourself. you hated the way you felt about your best friend and you hated the pandemic for not giving you an outlet to escape so you could recollect yourself.

what you weren't aware of was that kevin was no stranger to the exact same frustration.

he would need more than his ten fingers and ten toes to be able to count the amount of times he had to run to the bathroom to hide his boner because he had done so much as look at you bend over or stretch. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable but it was a challenge to try and calm down his hormones.

whenever he jacked off, images of you flashed through his mind; your sweet curves and pink lips drove him insane.

last week, you two were cooking together and you had asked him to get the salt. he stood behind you to reach for it on the highest shelf. he was forced to press his crotch against your butt cheeks and his dick hardened against his will. he quickly handed you the salt, excused himself and ran off before you could figure out what had happened.

he might not have known the cause of your sudden outburst but he sympathized with your fury because he had a lot of pent up anger towards covid as well.

he lay in his bed and tried to focus on the book he was reading but he couldn't tune out the groans coming from the room next to his. he cursed.

'stop it!' he was panicking as he saw a familiar tent forming in his pants. your sounds triggered some weird perverted part of his brain that sent signals right to his genitals. his dick was hardening and he saw no other solution to his problem than to give in to his subconscious desires.

he pulled down his pants just far enough so that his cock had enough room to spring out. it only needed a few strokes before it stood tall and angry. kevin pressed his head into his pillow and moved his hand fast. he wanted to get over with it quickly. he emptied his cum on his stomach while imagining your greedy little mouth being stuffed by his cock. he lay there panting as yet another round of shame flushed over him.

'get yourself together,' he whispered, mentally slapping himself.

***

'do you want to order japanese or italian?' you asked kevin. today was friday which meant it was time for your weekly tradition of ordering take out and watching a movie.

'definitely italian. we've already had japanese for the past four days. I need something else for a change,' kevin complained and shuddered at the thought of having to eat sushi again. the japanese restaurant prepared absolutely delicious food but he just couldn't stand it anymore.

you laughed at his pained facial expression. 'fine, italian it is.'

within twenty minutes the doorbell rang and after about half a minute kevin came back with two huge boxes.

he opened them on the small table situated in front of your couch and the smell of freshly cooked pasta seasoned with basil made your stomach growl.

kevin wanted to dig in already but you stopped him. you had to choose a movie first.

'let's watch tall girl. I saw everyone hate on it on tiktok,' you suggested.

'I think we should watch 365 days, that was all over my for you page as well,' kevin argued. you hadn't heard of it so you weren't sure whether it would be the right movie for you. the rule was that it had to be as bad as possible.

'according to what I have heard, it's apparently even worse than 50 shades of grey,' kevin added which piqued your interest. the both of you had watched 50 shades about two months ago and you were honestly shocked by how awful it actually was. you couldn't understand why everyone had been so obsessed with it when it was first released. if 356 days was really worse, then you'd hit the jackpot. you clapped your hands.

'fine, you win. I swear if the movie isn't as horrible as you say it is then you owe me something!' he intertwined his pinky with yours to promise.

watching horrible movies was way better than watching good ones. making fun of bad storylines, stupid characters or horrible editing was one of your favorite past times.

'I guess I'll have to add are you lost, baby girl to the top 10 worst lines ever spoken. who thought ah yes this is sexy, let's have him repeat it over and over again', you complained, shoving some pasta into your mouth.

'so he's like I won't do anything without your permission while he is literally groping her boobs against her will, like make it make sense, massimo', added kevin, ruffling his hair in frustration. he almost completely forgot about the food.

'so let me get this straight: he drugged her, kidnapped her, tied her up, hung up a painting of her just because he saw her face when his dad was shot?'

'totally relatable.' both of you giggled.

you were enjoying complaining about the plot. it was horrible.

there were plenty of erotic scenes but they were honestly so funny and kinda gross that you could bare it without really being affected by them. kevin, on the other hand, had placed a pillow over his hard-on to hide the embarrassing fact that these terrible, smutty scenes had turned him on.

and then the infamous boat scene came.

massimo and laura had a huge fight, she fell of the boat, he saved her and now she was suddenly so in love with him that she begs him to fuck her. which he does.

you felt your panties become increasingly wet as the couple had steaming hot sex.

'this is embarrassing but I'm so horny,' you admitted but in a way that should have suggested that you meant it as a joke. something about this statement stirred something in kevin.

'well, what can I say?' he replied and lifted the pillow. your pupils widened at the sight of your best friend's bulge.

his eyes darkened and he looked at you with lust clearly written on his face. you reciprocated his stare with the same intensity. you tried to focus on his dark brown orbs instead of his boner but the image you had just seen was present in your mind.

his gaze shifted to your lips and, before you knew it, kevin climbed above you and pressed your back flat onto the couch.

your lips locked and you immediately buried your hands in his hair to pull him closer. you moved in sync, his lips fitting perfectly onto yours. you bucked your hips up against his crotch and earned a moan from kevin. he opened his eyes in shock as realization hit him. he quickly pulled away and jumped off the coach.

'I'm so sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have just done that. I don't know what came over me,' he apologized profusely, staring at his feet. did he really think that you didn't want this?

'give me your hand,' you told him and held out your hand.

'why?' he raised his eyebrows in confusion. you rolled your eyes.

'just do it.'

you took his hand and led it to your crotch.

'what are you- oh my god.' your juices had completely soaked through your panties and your sweatpants. 'you are so wet.'

'for you,' you added. 'there's no need to apologize. I'm literally begging you to continue.'

you didn't have to say that twice before he pulled you closer to him by your hips and engaged you in another desperate kiss. his hands were groping your butt while you let yours slide under his hoodie. you felt his naked skin and toned abs, as you rubbed his stomach. you lowered your hands and bravely palmed his boner through his clothes.

'y/n,' he hissed out against your lips. you hooked your thumbs in the elastic of his pants and underwear, and pushed the material down to his thighs. he struggled to get them off.

you stroked his hard dick as he slipped his hand into your panties to massage your pussy at the same time.

he slipped one finger inside and began working it in and out. you finally were getting the relief you had been desperately craving for for so long. kevin was skilled and your walls were trying to swallow his slim finger. you were quickly coming close to your orgasm after having abstained for more than a year. you pulled his hand out.

'I bet you can make me come even better with your dick,' you challenged kevin.

'you bet I will.' he was confident.

'let me just look for a condom.' he was already turning away to go search in his room but you held him back by the arm.

'forget about it. I'm on the pill and I want you raw. I want you to come inside me and not spill into a stupid condom.'

the idea of this sounded very tempting to kevin. he picked you up and threw you back onto the couch, drawing your hips closer to him so he could pull off all the pieces of clothing that were hindering him from accessing your pussy.

he propped up his arms next to your sides and spread your thighs apart. strings of arousal were hanging from your folds and he saw your hole desperately clench around nothing. his dick hurt from how much he wanted to finally be inside of you. he wanted to find out how close he had been able to imagine how you would feel around him.

your hole took him in easily, welcoming him happily by embracing it tightly. kevin swore he could've cum right here and there.

he went slow at first to give you a chance to adjust but you were already fully ready, rocking your hips forward to meet his thrusts.

he crashed your mouths together and you kissed him like he was oxygen and you were short of air. you smiled and your eyes rolled back, satisfied with how things had played out today and the prospects of coming looked fairly promising.

desperate for release, kevin picked up the pace, his eyes closed while fucking into you like a horny animal. he couldn't help himself and all the 'faster's and 'harder's spilling from your mouth only encouraged him to drive himself deeper into you.

you wrapped your legs around his torso in an attempt to regain the control you were losing.

'fuck fuck fuck,' you cursed, feeling your muscles starting to contract. kevin brushed away some hair that was stuck to your sweaty forehead.

'it's fine, I'm coming too,' he announced and it took only a few more thrusts before a body shaking orgasm flushed over you, making you see only white. this drove kevin over the edge too and he spilled inside you, filling you up with his hot cum. he continued to slowly ease his dick in and out of you, fucking his semen right back into you until you had ridden out both of your orgasms. he let himself fall onto the couch right next to you, panting hard.

'I very much needed this,' you sighed in content.

'same, I wasn't sure whether I could hold out any longer without having a proper orgasm.' he watched his cum drip out of you.

'we should've thought of this sooner,' you said. 'this was a great idea.'

kevin hummed in agreement.

***

so now you and kevin were having sex on a regular basis, your high score being five times in a day. it felt good to finally live out your sexuality and not having to restrict yourself. sure, you guys did it more than necessary but it was a great way to pass time and it felt fucking amazing.

today you had done it in the shower after waking up, then on the kitchen counter and you had just finished having sex in his bed.

he was spooning you from behind, his cock still placed inside of you. he nuzzled his nose into your neck.

'stop, that tickles,' you chuckled.

'sorry.'

after a while of comfortable silence you heard him let out a big sigh.

'what's wrong?' you asked as he pulled out of you. you turned around to be able to look at him.

'I don't think I can do it like this anymore,' he confessed.

'what do you mean?' you asked. 'are you talking about us having sex?'

he nodded. your heart dropped and you started feeling dizzy. you tried to search for answers in his eyes but he avoided looking at you.

'w-why?' you stuttered, trying to hold back the tears that were welling up in your eyes.

'it was amazing at first,' he started and finally raised his head to meet your gaze, 'and I went into it without much thought. I went crazy during quarantine and began fantasizing about having sex with you. then it became reality but now I understand that was probably wrong of me. I've always thought of myself as a gentleman, yet I slept with you without much thought. you see, my issue is this…'

suspense hung in the air and you were impatiently waiting for him to get to the point.

'I like you.'

you quietly gasped in surprise. you had been expecting him to say you were bad at sex and that he regretted everything but not this.

'I shouldn't be sleeping with you unless you were my girlfriend,' he finished off his ramble. you felt immensely relieved.

'do you want me to?' you asked him.

'want you to what?' kevin was confused. he had been a hundred percent sure you'd immediately jump out of the bed in disgust when he confessed.

'be your girlfriend. after all, I like you too, you moron.' you realized that you had known this for a while. you might have even been crushing on your best friend since way before the pandemic struck but it was kind of hard to track your feelings. still, you were sure you liked him too. now that he had admitted his feelings, you were able to admit yours not only to him but to yourself as well.

'wow, I didn't expect this,' kevin confessed surprised. you laughed.

'yeah, we should've realized this sooner.' he pulled you closer and kissed you. it was different than the other times. his lips moved softly against yours, in contrast to all of your rough and passionate kisses you had exchanged these past few weeks. he conveyed his emotions through the kiss.

'you're ready again?' you groaned as you felt kevin's dick harden against your upper thigh. he chuckled.

'sorry, you just turn me on so much.'

so then you did it for the fourth time. that day, you set a new record of having sex six times. you might have been happy now but still just as horny.

[broadwayandnetflix]

Done - Bo Burnham x Reader

Warnings: Language 

Request:  can you make like something where bo gets mad and no fluff just pure angst

Theme: ANGST.

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: y’all I am so sorry about this one. but the lovely @asi-42 requested this and I really hope I delivered with the angst! more fics coming soon! 

How do you help someone who’s crumbling in front of you? How do you help them when they want nothing to do with you?

Or at least that’s what it felt like when you were dating Bo. You felt clueless, and the idea of helping him with whatever he was going through just didn’t seem doable.

His temper was heightened, and exhaustion practically clung to the man. It stuck to his hair, his ragged clothes, and his heart. You wanted to wring him of it all, pull him close, hold him tight.

Except, it didn’t seem like he wanted that, or not from you at least. That damn guest house making it seem as though the man was a million miles away from you.

Even when he was inside the shared house, his eyes never quite reached yours, his shoulders often tensed and uncomfortable. It broke your heart into two, seeing him pull away from you.

You had asked him what he wanted, what he needed from you. What you could do to help him, but all you would receive was silence.

Deafening silence.

Those once adoring blue eyes that used to be reserved for you, and only you. Now faded, dull, and drained. It made you hurt in ways you didn’t even know you could break.

But nevertheless, you loved him. Without question, you did, and of course, he loved you. He just had to be tired of you, tired of whatever thing you two were doing.

You wondered what you had done, what finally set off that flag in his brain. Did you lose your appeal? Did he find something else to bring him joy?

It definitely wasn’t that special that he was working on. Or maybe it was. You weren’t sure, but with each morning he left you to your own devices, you couldn’t seem to shake that thought.

Even at night when you saw the lights flashing through the window shutters, the muffled singing, and the discarded clattering of equipment.

You knew you didn’t stand a chance, that is, until it all went pitch black. Or the guest house did, for that matter.

You had been sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a glass of wine. Sometimes you felt pathetic waiting for something that was never gonna come.

Except you still held your breath, hoping that maybe he’d come in and give you a kiss. Praying that he’d touch you again, give you some form of love and care.

Anything, really.

Yet along with the darkness came the silence. Maybe Bo had used the pull-out bed was your first thought, or perhaps he was coming outside.

Yet still nothing.

That is until you had heard the sounds of what appeared to be muffled cries. A sound that sounded a little bit too real. You felt yourself rise out of your seat before becoming hesitant.

Should you go to him? Or was that gonna make things worse? You sighed. Why did you doubt the man you loved? Everything was gonna be okay; it’s Bo. Your Bo. The man who loved you.

You knocked on the door of the guest house awkwardly, hearing the scuffling of feet and sniffling. It made your heart drop a bit, realizing that it was real.

He really had been crying.

The door opens with a click, and you can briefly see some form of relief flicker in his eyes. Only for a second, as they hardened a bit, back to those lifeless blues that you had grown accustomed to.

“Yeah?” he croaks, leaning against the doorframe.

“Are you okay? I’m just getting worried about you sweetie.” you say, shifting your feet anxiously.

“No, yeah I’m fine. Just go back to bed, I’m just working.” Bo mutters, not even daring to meet your eyes.

“Are you sure?” you pry before his eyes snap up at yours.

“Are you daft? I said I’m fine, now please just let me get back to work please.” he barked, going to close the door.

Except something in him stops as he carefully looks down at you, with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher.

His figure practically looming over you; he had never made you feel so small. It almost made you jolt, and he had noticed. You could see him soften slightly before rubbing his hands through his hair.

He looked like an absolute stranger to you. This wasn’t your Bo; this was someone else.

Whether it was his hair absolutely disheveled, the bags hanging under his eyes. Or the unkempt beard that held onto his chin.

“I-I think I need a break.” he said quietly, after some time.

You felt yourself lighten up a bit, clearly from the fact that he was potentially putting his project at rest.

Yet his expression told you anything but that. A sigh escaped his lips as he tried to articulate the words to you.

“I need a break from us. I just can’t do this anymore. I can barely take care of myself, let alone you.” Bo’s words hung in the air.

They didn’t mean to hurt you; you knew he’d never intentionally hurt you. Except they did, he broke you.

This didn’t feel real. It certainly didn’t feel right, and you wanted to snap up from your bed. As if this was all some poorly designed dream and that Bo was still in love with you.

Except this wasn’t a dream, and Bo was still in front of you exasperatedly, trying to stand still.

It was like time had stood still, and your body, much like molasses, was stuck to the patio floor. Dwarfed by Bo’s taller figure, who was fidgeting, trying to figure out what to do with you.

“Okay.” you managed to whisper through your fog-like state.

“Okay?” he asks incredulously.

“Yes, Bo, Okay.” you reply matter of factly, the words bitter on your tongue.

His eyes darken just a tiny bit, giving you a flicker of annoyance. Clearly, he’d expected something more from you. A fit, maybe? Anything that would salvage the relationship.

“Fine, thanks for your understanding.” he scoffs as if he couldn’t believe you.

You honestly thought you had it in you too, to fight for the two of you, but much like Bo. The pandemic had worn you out; you were tired. Forcing someone to love you wasn’t on your list of priorities.

You took a step backward, away from the guest house. Away from Bo. Bo watching your every move, analyzing you like a fucking hawk.

It all stung. It did. The idea of losing Bo like this was downright devastating. Once the door to the house closed behind you, it hit you.

Tears stream rapidly down your cheeks as you try to cope with an empty house and relationship.

Bo had grown tired of you. Not his special, not the pandemic, you. Even if he wanted a break, what would happen then? Would he come back and be met with the same realization?

That you were just another box on his long list of priorities? Just being pushed off to the side, so he can check you off when it suits him best.

You placed whatever you could fit into a suitcase that you had used when the two of you went traveling. Your vision blurred with your tears while you tried to flee as quickly as you could.

Did you love him? Of course. Did you want him to be happy? Always. Except, it appeared that you wouldn’t be the person that would help him achieve everything he needed.

You shoved everything you could into your car and started it, giving yourself a second to breathe. Not even noticing as Bo stood by the window watching as you hit the gas and drove away from him, from your relationship.

Not allowing yourself to notice him wondering if he really did make a mistake. If he really did fuck up big this time.

[write-ur-wrongs]

Nature’s Nurturing Ways

Hi y’all! This pandemic has really taken the wind out of my sails these past few weeks (maybe months? Time is completely untraceable right now). This piece is born out of a lovely anon’s request, bolded below. As always, I haven’t proofread this mess, so please forgive the typos! I’ll do my best to correct them post-publishing. I seriously can’t thank you enough for taking the time to send me your ideas, and I promise I’ll get better at writing actual drabbles LOL. I hope you enjoy :) 

Hii can you write something abt Geralt being w a plant-based reader where she loves animals and nature? Tysm

_____________________________________________________________

Geralt and Jaskier had been travelling for hours when the beating sun finally wore them down. There hadn’t been a breeze in days and the hot, stale air was starting to suffocate the uncharacteristically quiet bard, who wouldn’t dare compete with the surrounding cicada’s symphony.

“Geralt,” he rasped, “do you hear any running water? Drips or gurgles? I’ll take anything.”

“Jask, it hasn’t rained in days and it’s hotter than the depths of hell,” the Witcher sighed before continuing, “I said no yesterday, the answer is the same today.”

“Euughh!” Jaskier threw his head back in despair before hanging his head in exhaustion. “Geralt, I don’t want to be dramatic -,”

“Ha!” Geralt twisted in his saddle to look back at his friend with a quirked brow.

“- but I will fall off this horse and die of exposure if we don’t find water soon.”

Shaking his head, Geralt knew that despite the bard’s tendency to embellish, the situation was getting dire. They’d traveled this way dozens of times before and had always relied on the steady creek that ran alongside the trail for water. The region wasn’t known for dry spells and while Geralt was sure he could manage either way, his companion on the trail was not so durable.

They wouldn’t arrive at their destination for another three or four hours, at his level of dehydration and with probable heat exhaustion, Jaskier might not have that much time.

With another gruff sigh, Geralt pulled back on Roach’s reins and redirected her off the road and into the forest, turning back to ensure Jaskier’s horse would follow.

Geralt knew that there was a small clearing off the road where the thick leaves from the old trees made a lush, and shaded, canopy. He’d been there before a handful of times. It’s where he shared a tender first kiss, where he’d laid his head on Y/N’s chest before falling asleep feeling the cool, lush, grass cradling his large frame. It’s where he first said I love you.

Shaking his head slightly to pull himself from his memories, he dismounted and grabbed both sets of reins, leading the horses into farther the clearing. Once they’d reached the middle of the small field, Geralt released Roach’s lead and gave her a neck a scratch before leaving her to graze.

“Come on Jaskier,” he said, reaching into the gelding’s saddle bag for some food, “get off your horse and lay down in the grass.”

The bard fell out of his saddle with a thud while Geralt continue to root around the bag, huffing as he kept coming up empty.

“Did you eat the last of the cheese?”

“Mmpft,” Jaskier replied incoherently, face down in the grass.

“Hey –”

“Oi! You kicked me!”

“Where is the food? We had bread, cheese, and meat left over last night. Did you fucking eat it all?”

“No, you oaf,” he said, rolling over onto his back, “we ate the rest of it this morning.”

“Fuck!” Geralt cursed under his breath, pulling his hair up off his neck to cool off. He could barely remember what they’d done earlier that day. The heat had been unbearable all evening, and the rising sun only made it worse.  

“Don’t worry about it Geralt! No need to apologize for accusing me so harshly.” Jaskier said, words dripping in sarcasm.

Geralt merely looked down at the bard with disdain and rolled his eyes, refusing to admit the sun might be affecting him too.

“Shut up and take off your shirt –”

“Oh-ho!” he laughed weakly, wiggling his eye brows at the witcher. No matter how beaten and battered the bard may be, he’d never miss an opportunity to tease Geralt.

“No, Gods! Fuck,” Geralt went on, flustered, “the grass will cool you down a hell of a lot faster if you’re in direct contact. And besides, Y/N will kill me if I let you die of exposure.”

“Always so serious, eh Geralt?” Jaskier chided playfully, pulling off his tunic before laying back down onto the grass, “Oh-ho-ho-ohhhh yes… Sweet merciful goddess of all that is good, this feels amazing! Yes, yes, yes!”

While he was sure the bard was still mumbling gratefully, and disgustingly, at the feeling of the cool grass against his skin, Geralt’s mind was elsewhere. Somewhere in this clearing, wild heliotropes had bloomed and the sweet, almondine scent was pulling him into a memory.

“Geralt! Witchers use herbs, mushrooms, and flowers in all kinds of magic,” you said, your hands resting high on your hips, “I find it incredibly hard to believe that in all your years and extensive travels, you’d never learned to forage?”

“All my years, eh?” he’d replied, cat-like eyes gleaming back at you.

“Well of course,” you teased, “I mean, unless you mean to tell me that silver head of hair is a choice born out of vanity?”

“I’m going to make you pay for that later, Y/N.” He laughed, taken aback and a little impressed that you felt so comfortable with his mutations as to mock him playfully.

“Ha! Me and what coin?” you reply with a light laugh, bending over to collect the generous mushrooms growing through the bed of leaves and needles.

Geralt turned his head towards you to hit you with a winning comeback, but found himself lost for words when his eyes failed to meet yours.

You get up slowly, peering over your shoulder to find your witcher’s eyes on your backside. Smirking to yourself and quirking a brow flirtatiously, you toss a handful of dirt and wet leaves his way, hitting the poor soul right in the chest.

“Distracted, Geralt?” you said, tossing your hair over your shoulder as you straightened up.

Geralt swallowed thickly, desperately trying to string together at least a couple words – witty at best, coherent at least – when he heard a twig snap in the surrounding forest.

Quick as a flash, he drew his sword and his attention towards the source of the disturbance, a large boar. Chest already swelling with pride at the thought of providing you with a hearty meal, Geralt prepared his attack on the creature before him.

Seeing that the “threat” in question was nothing but a passing porcine, you dove before him with a shout, dropping the mushrooms on the way. Your scream coupled with your sudden movement startled the beast, and it dove deeper into the brush to escape.

“Geralt, no!”

“Damn it, Y/N,” he swore, “I could’ve had it! We could have had a decent meal! We – we would have been set for days!”

“No, Geralt! We have food, right here in this clearing. We needn’t take lives from the forest to eat.”

“Gods, Y/N,” he sighed, dropping his sword to the ground in frustration, “do I need to remind you of the cycle of life? Creatures live, they die, and they get eaten so others can live –”

“Yes, and by leaving that gentle giant to its ruminations, we’ve allowed it to go on, to feed its young, or hell! By leaving that boar to live, we might have secured a lifeline for a fellow wolf or fox. Geralt look around you; mushrooms, flowers, these thick leaves, those berries? You see that tree there? At its roots there are nuts, and over there? Those flowers? Means there is garlic. The forest will feed us with ease if we simply care to drop our weapons, and look.”

Geralt looked at you and with soft eyes, he took in the way your eyes burned with passion, the way your chest rose and fell with every energized breath. He looked around you and really looked at the plants around him, beyond scanning for any toxic or dangerous herbs, he did his best to see the forest through your bright eyes.

Looking at you he felt his chest swell once more, but this time the feeling was warm, grounding.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said quietly, pulling you into his arms, “so, so much.”

You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. You knew he loved you. You had known for months, but you’d made peace with the fact that he loved you however he could, and that that would have to be enough, even if it meant you wouldn’t hear him say it.

“Oh, my sweet, sweet dove,” you murmured, reaching up to lay a soft kiss on his forehead, “I love you too.”

Geralt was wrenched from his thoughts by a swift kick to his shin, courtesy of the bard.

“Shhht!! Geralt!” Jaskier shout-whispered, still kicking at the witcher’s shins. “A deer! A d- dinner! Food! Geralt!”

Side-stepping out of the bard’s frantic little kicks, Geralt looked around him in a quick movement, spotting the deer with his hand primed above his sword’s hilt.

The world seemed to go quiet and still when his eyes met the doe’s. Despite himself, he could hear your voice in his head telling him that she’s a young, vibrant member of this forest’s population. That at her age, she’s likely a first-time mom or about to be. That she has more life to live and more to give to the land than be a poor man’s meal.

Jaskier watched in hungry-horror as Geralt waved his large hand at the creature, turning his back to it before looking down to meet his shell-shocked gaze.

“What the fuck, Geralt!” he spat, “what happened to “Y/N would kill me if I let Jaskier die”? What the fuck! That was food! Survival!”

“You’ll be fine Jask, shut up and lay in your grass.”

“As long as you don’t make me eat it.” He grumbled, not quietly enough.

A laugh rumbled through him as he walked towards to forest line, spotting thick dandelion leaves, mushrooms, and bushes ripe with nuts. He might not necessarily need to feed Jaskier the grass beneath his feet, but he was going to make him eat his words.

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

“There you are my intrepid explorers!” You damn near squealed at the sight of them, dropping your basket of recently-purchased produce as you ran towards them.

At the sight of you, Geralt dismounts and runs to meet you in a tight embrace. You hold each other tightly, breathing in each other’s scent; his cedar, damp earth, and cut grass, and yours sweet almond.

You pull back just enough to look him over quickly and, spotting no fresh injury or new scars, pull your brows together curiously.

“Did you get lost?”

“Not at all,” replied Jaskier, clapping Geralt on the shoulder, “You’d be impressed, madam Y/N! Our dear witcher made quite the feast. Pulled me right out of the greedy jaws of death, he did!”

“Oh?” You said, brows furrowed in a silent question. Knowing what you meant, Geralt shook his head and kissed your temple to reassure you.

“Picture me this, Y/N,” Jaskier mused as he untacked his gelding, “I’m wilting away, inches from Death’s grip, and Geralt sweeps me under a lush canopy of trees and lays me in the grass…”

“Lays him in the grass? Should I be jealous?” you whispered.

“Never my love,” he replied softly, his forehead against yours.

“… then our honorable friend bid the deer a fond farewell, letting him get away! Yes, Y/N, there I lay, starving, thinking the sun must have cooked the sense right out of him when he marches out of sight only to emerge moments later with a bounty!”

“A bounty?” you mock-gasp, egging the bard on to Geralt’s great displeasure.

“Yes! We ate like kings in that forest, Y/N. All we did was eat but I felt hydrated and renewed! Truly a culinary delight.”

“A delight, Geralt!” you giggled, giving his waist a squeeze.

“Gods, won’t he ever shut up?” he grumbled, ghost of a blush creeping up his collar.

“Oh hush, my love,” you cooed, “without Jask’s bragging, I’d have never known what a big softy you’ve become.”

Wordlessly, Geralt looked down at you in mock-contempt, unsure that this wasn’t a veiled insult. He was instantly reassured though, when his eyes met yours.

“You left the deer.”

“I did.”

“And you foraged, found just what you needed.” You spoke softly, admiration and love rounding your features out beautifully.

“That’s right.”

“Now where did you pick up skills like that, my dove?” You chanced another tease, twirling a lock of his white, dust-packed hair around a finger before giving it a light tug, your head cocked to the side.

“Oh, I had an exceptional teacher…” he said, wrapping an arm tightly around your waist and bringing his other hand up to cup your face, pulling into a deep kiss.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Built on a Lie

Prompt: I like the possible idea of Janus being a absolutely crushed to find Roman bleeding out due to a bruised ego in his room after pof was uploaded. After all most Sander Sides Fans hated Roman after he mocked Janus's Name.

Thanks for the prompt, babe! I hope it’s what you wanted!

Read on Ao3

Pairings: arguably roceit i guess??? it’s just focused on them, can be platonic or romantic if you want. same with LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR

Warnings: sympathitic janus even if it might not seem like it, sympathetic feral protective remus, roman is a hurt boi

Word Count: 5010

The wedding is tough.

After the wedding is an ordeal.

After after the wedding…hurts.

The Mindscape is all but deserted. No one wants to come out to the common areas for risk of running into someone who they had…disagreements with or getting swept up in a painfully awkward conversation. Patton lingers in the kitchen, Virgil almost never opens his door, Logan works, and Remus, well…Remus is the only one still behaving as normal.

Janus is grateful for his consistency.

In all honesty, and oh, the irony, he doesn’t enjoy this. He doesn’t enjoy the others walking on eggshells constantly, nor does he thrill at how they seem to jump at everyone, not just him. His point was made. That is his job.

But he’s not so sure he fully anticipated the cost.

At the very least, Logan seems to get over their troubles first. He approaches Janus a few days after the wedding and offers one of his philosophy books. Janus accepts it gratefully and by the time he’s finished it, Logan starts talking again. It’s not the greatest thing for the Mindscape that Logan is willing to talk to the others again.

Patton comes around next, simply because he’s the kindest. Janus pities him a little for it. But sure enough, the common areas start to ring again, drawing Remus out from the depths to cause his chaos.

Virgil appears next, summoned by the repeated calling of Remus’s antics and Janus’s exasperation. And sometimes, well, sometimes it seems like they’re back in their hallway, with Patton and Logan looking on with the air of some bemused anthropologists.

All the Sides reemerge and start trying to figure out what’s going on except for Roman.

Roman is nowhere to be found.

“He…he just needs some more time, I’m sure.”

“Roman is prone to fits of dramatics. It is unsurprising that he chooses to have a repeat performance.”

“Princey’s a bit of an asshole, it’s gonna take him a while to own up to what he did.”

“Catch!”

Janus grunts and staggers under Remus’s weight, eventually getting them both with their feet back under them on the floor. He adjusts his hat and looks disapprovingly at the amount of slime Remus has managed to get all over himself.

“What were you even doing?”

“Exploring the precise relationship of viscera to ventricles inside the heart of a blue whale!” Remus shakes his sleeve. “They lied about how bit the veins and arteries are.”

“How did you—nevermind,” Janus sighs, “I don’t want to know. Now, will you answer my question or not?”

Remus shrugs. “Dunno. Not paying attention.”

“…Roman’s not or you’re not?”

“I’m not!” He flicks some slime at Janus’s hat. “But you should be!”

“Yes, well, when slime starts to emerge from every corner again, I’ll chase you down.”

“Ooh, promises, promises.”

Janus doesn’t hurl some of the slime at Remus as he sinks out.

Roman still hasn’t appeared and the others are starting to notice. Thomas isn’t exactly in a position to do a whole lot of things, but at the very least he’s not doing what he perhaps should have been capable of. Logan notices and at first, chalks it up to the fact that they are in a pandemic; lapses in peak physical and mental performance are not unexpected, but it quickly becomes clear that it’s a little more than that.

The Mindscape grows dimmer, more sluggish. Thomas doesn’t seem to want to do much of anything, let alone work.

“I don’t understand,” Patton mumbles one afternoon when they meet—sans Roman—to try and figure out what’s going on, “I know I’m having a few—um, it’s not Thomas’s feelings that are causing us problems.”

Janus doesn’t make a note of how Virgil quickly presses his arm against Patton’s shoulder.

“There are certain things that are to be expected under times of great stress,” Logan muses, “and certainly any pre-existing problems will be exacerbated, but…this was not anticipated.”

Remus cranks the chainsaw and sets about carving up a new slice of…whatever he’s working on. “We’re in a pandemic, Spectacles!”

“I am wildly aware.”

Virgil stares at the chainsaw—which is fair—then up to Remus. “You ever been in a pandemic before, Remus?”

“Nope!”

Virgil rolls his eyes. “Okay, so that makes sense. But L’s right, this feels…weird. Like we’re missing something pretty big.”

In unison, they all look towards Roman’s seat.

The room falls as quiet as it can with Remus’s chainsaw still in the background.

The big, red, overstuffed armchair looks…different, without Roman lounging in it. The blinds aren’t drawn but it looks like the coloring has faded significantly, as though it’s been out in the sun for far too long. The seams look as though they’re struggling and there’s a dark imprint on one of the arms.

It’s not a shock to Janus to discover he’s never really looked at the chair before.

“Has anyone heard from Roman,” Logan asks quietly, “since the wedding?”

Virgil shakes his head, glancing around. Patton looks down at his chest.

“You think this is Roman.” It’s not a question.

“HIs tantrums do not normally last for this long,” Logan continues, adjusting his tie, “and whilst I admit that perhaps our circumstances have contributed more than I anticipated, I do not believe that is how Roman feels.”

“Princey has been away for a really long time.”

“Thomas is starting to get hurt by it,” Patton mumbles, laying a hand on his chest, “I can—I’m starting to feel it a little.”

“So we need to get Princey’s head out of his ass again.”

Logan sighs. “Most likely.”

“I didn’t want to rush it,” Patton says, glancing at Janus, “but you guys are right. I think he’s being selfish now.”

At the word ‘selfish,’ Remus freezes.

The chainsaw splutters and dies to the floor with a heavy clunk.

“Remus,” Patton scolds, “be careful with the…”

He trails off when he notices what the rest of them have.

Remus is standing completely still—an impossibility for Remus—his head tilted back, eyes fixed on a point in the ceiling. His nose quivers, almost like a bloodhound.

His nose twitches.

His lip curls up into a snarl.

His morning star appears in his hand with a growl as he tears off toward the stairs.

“Remus? Remus!”

“Wait!”

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Remus!”

Janus closes his eyes, reaching out to see if he can tell where Remus is going. His eyes shoot open.

“Roman’s room. Now.”

Virgil grabs Logan and Patton and sinks out.

Janus tries to appear in Roman’s room only to hit something burning cold. He hisses and flinches away from it, only to realize that he hasn’t materialized properly and is stuck. The burning cold reaches further, further, into his scales, digging under them, until Janus yanks himself away and appears, panting, in the hallway outside Roman’s door.

Virgil appears too, still holding the others. “What the fuck was that?”

“Did he block us out?”

“None of us have the ability to do that, other than Thomas.”

“Did he get Thomas to block us out?”

“I don’t know!”

A loud crash jerks their attention to Remus. He raises his morning star again and drives the spikes deep into the bright red of Roman’s door.

…that isn’t nearly as bright as it should be.

Remus snarls again and wails against the door. The wood starts to creak and buckle under the onslaught. He hefts the weapon again and shatters the door with a thunderous crack.

The morning star is hastily flung aside as Remus claws at the splintered wood, yanking it away from the hole he’s made.

The door groans and yields.

Remus rushes through, Virgil on his heels. Patton and Logan attempt to follow only to run smack into both of them.

“Why’d you stop, kiddos, we can’t—“

“Let us through, why did you—“

When those two fight their way through and into silence, Janus sighs and gingerly steps through, nudging Logan and Virgil aside to look at what’s got them so shocked. Roman in the middle of a sobbing mess of tissues, probably, or an empty room signifying he’s gone off on some quest in the Imagination, or even a pouting Roman glaring at them for ruining his door.

He gets around Virgil’s shoulder and his blood runs cold. Burning cold.

If they weren’t in Roman’s room, he’s not sure he’d be able to recognize this as Roman.

His pristine white costume is stained an ugly brown. The gold trimmings fall limply off, hating on by barely a thread. His hair sticks to the floor in horrid, matted clumps. His hands are speckled and stained with more blood, some congealed and crusted from the puddle on the floor. His legs bend at awkward and uncomfortable angles. One of his arms is stretched away from, reaching for something.

Or anything.

They dare not move. They dare hardly breathe.

Remus takes a step forward. Then another. Then another. He circles the body on the floor, not caring about stepping in the blood, crouching down on the far side. His face is drawn, paler than Janus has ever seen it go, he looks sick.

If…if Remus looks this bad—

Remus looks up at the others. His face darkens.

“Explain,” he whispers, his voice low and soft and dangerous, “now.”

No one can find words to even try.

When no one says anything, Remus crouches down and, with a tenderness that shocks Janus, lays his hand on Roman’s side.

“Roman,” he whispers, almost inaudibly, “Roman, can you hear me?”

“...Re?”

“Yeah, Ro-Bro, it’s—it’s me.”

“Wha’re you…here?”

“I wasn’t paying attention,” Remus growls, looking up at them again, “maybe no one was.”

“’S fine.”

“Roman, it is about the furthest from fine that it could be.”

“…’ve had worse.”

“…okay I was wrong. That is the furthest from fine it could be.”

Judging by the way Roman’s body slumps, his eyes must fall closed again. “You c’n go. D’n’t have to stay.”

“Not on your life.”

“’S fine, Re,” Roman slurs, “the others will…wonder where you are.”

Remus stiffens. His hand tenses on Roman’s side.

“No,” he says softly, “they won’t.”

Roman twitches, his head rolling up. “‘M sorry, Re.”

“What the absolute fuck are you apologizing to me for?”

“Thought they’d…care.” Roman’s head waivers and drop back down. “‘Bout you.”

Patton can’t stifle his whimper.

Roman twitches again. “Wha…”

“They’re not gonna wonder where I am,” Remus growls, “because they’re here.”

Roman’s going to panic. He’s going to freak out and they’ll have to reassure him. Or Roman’s going to be angry and they’ll have to stop him from hurting himself. Or he won’t believe Remus and that…that might be the worst.

…Janus should really stop thinking that.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why’re they here, Re,” Roman mumbles, his body sagging to the floor again, “‘m I late for s’mething?”

Remus snarls and Roman flinches.

“Don’ be mad, Re, please, ‘m sorry—“

“I’m not mad at you, Roman.”

“But you’re mad.”

“No.” Remus stares at them, his voice still even and soft. “I’m enraged.”

Before they can say anything, Roman hisses and jerks. Remus’s hands instantly flit to Roman, searching for whatever’s hurt him.

“What’s happening, Ro,” he growls, “whose ass do I need to kick?”

“You can’t,” Roman wheezes, “can’ stop it.”

“The hell I can.”

“No, you—you actually can’t,” Roman says, reaching for Remus’s hand, “help—help me sit up?”

“Ro, you’re—I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“’S fine.”

“I don’t think it is!”

“Please?”

Remus sighs, gingerly wrapping his arms around Roman’s bruised and bloody body. “Come on then.”

Roman’s costume clings to the floor and his back as they sit up, the stain darkening and drying on the belly of his tunic. His head lolls against Remus’s chest, breathing heavily for a moment before he finally looks up.

Oh, his face…

It’s an absolute mess. Blood and salt and other things Janus couldn’t hope to figure out cling to every scrap of skin they can as he squints at them.

“You broke my door.”

“You were in trouble,” Remus replies easily, hoisting Roman to sit properly.

Roman sighs, his breath rattling. “Did I miss a meeting?”

“We…” Logan swallows. “We just came from one.”

“Oh.” Roman closes his eyes. “I’ll…gimme a minute, I’ll—“

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“I gotta do the meeting, Re.”

“The hell you do.”

“You—you don’t have to worry about the meeting, Roman,” Logan says firmly, taking a step closer, “we—what happened to you?”

“What d’you mean?”

“What does he mean?” Virgil explodes. “Roman, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Roman hisses again. “Don’ have to shout, Virgil.”

“Of fucking course I have to shout! Look at you!”

“I believe that might be more of a reason not to shout,” Logan says quietly. Virgil huffs, balling his hands up into fists.

“What the fuck happened, Roman,” Virgil repeats, “and don’t pretend like you don’t know what we’re talking about.”

Roman sighs again, something whistling, what happened to him?—and sits up away from Remus. “I can’ shout, come closer.”

Logan and Virgil immediately walk forward, crouching down a respectful distance away. Patton takes a moment longer, creeping forward and reaching out a trembling hand toward Roman.

“K-kiddo,” he mumbles, “I’m so—so sorry, I didn’t know—“

“’S okay,” Roman slurs, leaning back against Remus, “’s okay, Pat.”

“Patton?” Logan turns. “What do you know?”

“Yeah, Patton,” Remus growls, “why don’t you tell us.”

Patton shrinks back. “I—I—“

“Shh,” Roman mumbles, clumsily patting Remus’s hand, “don’ do that, ’s okay.”

“No, Roman, it’s not.”

“...kiddo?”

Roman nods.

Patton takes a deep breath. “You guys know that—how Roman gets hurt sometimes when Thomas does something that, uh, doesn’t turn out great?”

“We all get hurt, Pat,” Virgil says, “that doesn’t explain this.”

As if on cue, Roman hisses again.

“No, no, Virgil,” Patton mumbles, “it’s—Roman’s the only one who gets physically hurt when this stuff happens.”

Logan’s eyes widen as he looks at Roman’s injuries. “Of course…”

Despite everything, Roman smiles tiredly up at him. “Figure it out?”

“You’re the Ego,” Logan mumbles, “and thus it follows that you would get…bruised.”

“Wait, that’s a literal thing?”

“Apparently so.”

“Jeez, Princey,” Virgil mumbles, “you coulda told me.”

“You were busy, didn’t wanna give you anything else to worry ‘bout.”

“That’s not—Roman—“

“But Thomas has been inside,” Logan interjects quickly, “alone, he hasn’t—we haven’t done anything since the pandemic began.”

“It’s a pandemic, Lo,” Roman says, “no one’s doing much of anything…besides staying inside, reading things, watching things…”

“So how is this happening to you, Roman,” Patton says, wringing his hands, “what—what’s doing this to Thomas?”

“Fuck,” Virgil says, burying his hands in his hair, “Princey has this been happening to you since the wedding?”

“Mm,” Roman hums, leaning heavily against Remus.

“People are watching the video,” Logan whispers, “and they’re—well, they’re talking about it.”

“Are they—are they still saying Thomas should’ve…” Paton gulps. “Done something different?”

Logan shakes his head. “I’m sure they are but Thomas…Thomas hasn’t been looking at the comments from the video, not really. Virgil and I have specifically told him not to.”

“So then why is Thomas still being hurt by it? Why are people still attacking Thomas?”

“Not—“ their heads all jerk around to look at Roman— “not Thomas.”

He waves a hand at himself.

“Wouldn’t be like this if it were them attacking Thomas.”

“Then what—“

“They’re attacking you?” Virgil’s eyes go wide as they scan over Roman’s injuries. “Directly?”

“Mm.”

“Oh, kiddo—“

“Princey, what the hell—“

“Why didn’t you tell us? We could’ve—“

“What for?”

In response, Roman’s eyes raise slowly, and look at Janus.

Everyone else follows, looking back toward the door, realizing that Janus hadn’t moved closer with the rest of them.

Roman’s gaze isn’t cold, but it makes him feel cold.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, no.

“My name,” Janus breathes, “it’s…they’re mad at you because of me.”

“Told you,” Roman slurs as his eyes close again, “gotta come closer. Can’ shout like this.”

Janus swallows heavily, his throat dry, clutching his cloak tightly around him as he edges closer. Roman mumbles to himself until Janus is close enough to hear him.

“There we go…” He cracks a bloodied eye open. “You’re right. They’re angry at me. Rightfully so, but…yeah.”

“Because you made fun of my name?”

They all rush forward as Roman keens, his hand flying to his gut and hissing.

“Fuck, Princey, is it—is it still happening?”

“Mhm.”

“How do we—how do we stop it?”

“Can’t,” Roman mumbles, “wasn’t lying. Nothing you can do. Not until it’s over.”

“It’s been ages since the wedding, Roman, how much longer is this going to go on?”

Roman makes a vague noise of ‘I don’t know.’

“But—but—“ Logan looks frantically back and forth between them— “surely they can’t all be angry at you, that would be—“

“They’re not,” Roman mumbles, “not all of them, but it’s—it’s most of them.”

“How is that possible?”

“Some of them really don’t like me—“ Roman hisses again— “some of them really like J-Janus or Remus or…or Logan, or Patton—“

“What?”

“What does that have to do with—“

“And some of them just think that it’s—what I did was—“ Roman stifles a whimper, biting his lip— “really bad.”

“But then why…why aren’t the rest of us being affected like this?”

“You’re not the Ego.”

Remus snarls again as Roman jerks, a new bruise blooming on the underside of his neck.

“…ow.”

“We have to get you cleaned up,” Logan mutters shakily, trying to stand.

“Not much point right now,” Roman sighs, absentmindedly nuzzling into Remus, who tightens his grip protectively around Roman, “‘m just gonna get all messy again.”

“Not if we stay with you,” Logan promises, “not if we help.”

“…don’ have to.”

“What the hell are you—“ Virgil shakes his head. “Of course, we’re gonna help you, Roman.”

Roman just looks at them and closes his eyes.

“Ro—kiddo,” Patton says, reaching out for him, “why don’t you believe us?”

“You haven’t exactly…done that before.”

“We didn’t know!”

“You did.”

Patton’s retort dies in his throat. He looks desperately around for something, anything—

Janus is in shock.

Roman…oh, Roman…Janus knew Roman was the Ego, but he didn’t—he hadn’t—

Fuck, were the bruises from what he said still there? Not—not just that awful, awful thing about comparing Roman to Remus, but…from before?

How many times had Janus hurt Roman…and hadn’t cared?

“…I’m sorry, Roman,” Logan murmurs, breaking the silence, “will you let me help now?”

Roman looks up at him. “I’ve been awful to you,” he mumbles, “you don’—don’ have to apologize.”

“Yes, I do,” Logan says, “because you’ve been wonderful to me too…and I am not blameless in this either.”

“But they don’t know that.”

“I do,” Logan says firmly, “and they will.”

The smallest smile tugs at the corners of Roman’s mouth as Logan stands up to go fetch the first aid kit.

“Princey, I—Roman,” Virgil stammers, “fuck, you—oh my god—“

“I’ve been awful to you too, Virgil.”

“And I’ve been fucking worse right back!” Virgil squeezes his hands tight. “And I—you’re the only one who gets yelled at for it. Fuck, I’m—I’m so fucking sorry, I’m gonna—can I help too?”

“…if you want.”

“I’m gonna go help Logan get the shit,” Virgil mutters, getting to his feet and tearing out after Logan.

“…oh, kiddo…”

Patton’s eyes begin to tear up.

“I thought—I thought you needed more time—“

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Pat,” Roman manages, “it’s not fun, trust me.”

Patton’s laugh comes out more like a sob.

“I won’t hold it against you, and you can—“ Roman hisses again— “help if you want.”

“Do you think you can drink something?”

“…I’ll try.”

Patton’s gone in a flash.

Janus looks at Remus. Remus glares at him and pulls Roman closer.

“…we should…try and get some of that off,” Janus tries, “so we can see what, um…”

Remus’s stony silence as Roman starts to drift again cuts off Janus’s words.

“…Remus…”

“You are very, very lucky,” Remus whispers, cutting him off, “that I’m not about to leave my brother’s side for a long time.”

Janus nods.

“Start on the buttons,” Remus says, “at his wrists. I’m not sure how much of this we can save.”

He immediately sets to work, trying to communicate how sorry, sorry, sorry he is with every gentle brush of his fingers against Roman’s skin. Remus summons something for them to lean Roman against as they start to gingerly remove the tunic. It’s worse than Janus thought.

Roman is one big pulsing wound, little nicks here and there and varying shades of purple, red, green, yellow, all coming from one massive sore in the center of him. As they watch, more injuries appear, little bruises that make his breath hitch, and occasionally a small swipe along his ribs. As Janus works the cuff over his wrist, one of his fingers blackens and swells as it breaks.

“Oh, Roman…”

“Sit up, Ro,” Remus whispers tenderly, peeling and unsticking the tunic from his back, “okay, there we go. Are most of them…up here?”

“They all look to be coming from…that,” Janus says, indicating the giant wound, “so…”

And indeed, as they watch, Roman keens again and the wound deepens, more blood beginning to trickle out.

“Are all of these—“ Janus indicates the injuries littering Roman’s body— “comments?”

“Mm.”

“Then what—why is this one…?”

Roman’s eyes drift closed and his head lolls back.

“’Oh, Roman, thank god you don't have a mustache.”

No.

No.

“’Otherwise, between you and Remus—‘” Roman winces as the wound digs deeper— “‘I wouldn't know who the evil twin is.’”

…no…

Janus reaches out a trembling hand and lays it next to the wound. It’s…it’s warm under his touch but…wrong.

A snarl jerks his hand back and he looks up to see Remus glaring at him.

“Remus—“

“Save it.” Remus glances toward the door. “The others will be back in a moment anyway.”

Sure enough, Logan and Virgil bust through the broken door, their hands full. Logan immediately sweeps his gaze over Roman and kneels down, reaching out.

“May I touch you, Roman?”

“Mm.”

“Thank you.” Logan slots a hand gently behind Roman’s hand. ���We’re going to try and get the blood off of you first, alright?”

“Mm.”

“This might sting,” Logan cautions, starting to rub an antiseptic towel down Roman’s arm, “my apologies.”

Virgil takes another one and carefully cleans Roman’s other arm, mindful of his broken finger. As they work, Patton reappears, holding a bottle of water and a glass of juice.

“Come on, kiddo,” he says softly, taking Logan’s place behind Roman’s head, “drink this for me?”

Roman manages a few sips of each.

“Good job, kiddo, there you go…” Patton glances down. “Does it seem to be stopping at all?”

As if it can hear him, the wound starts to bleed again.

“Oh, Roman…”

Logan glances between the wound and Janus, his brow furrowed.

Please, Logan, for once…don’t be so smart.

The way Logan’s eyes widen and narrow say that it’s too late.

“This one seems to be the origin,” Logan says instead, turning away, “all the others seem to stem from it.”

“Okay,” Virgil mutters, “so what’s that one?”

Janus’s mouth runs dry as Logan turns to him expectantly.

“Well,” Remus growls, “go on.”

“I don’t—what if it just makes it worse?”

“That didn’t stop you before.”

“I didn’t—“

“Oh, shut up,” Remus cuts him off, “you knew. You knew.”

“Remus—“

“You wanna know how I know that?” Remus draws away from Roman just enough to clench his fists. “Because I found you after the wedding. You were all curled up on the floor and you were so upset.”

Roman stirs. “…Re…”

“And I asked you why, and you said it was because Roman made fun of your name,” Remus continues, “and I thought: ‘huh, that feels a little weird. Where have I heard that before?’”

Patton shrinks out of Remus’s line of sight.

“Then I remembered! The courtroom,” Remus continues, a manic smile on his face, “and your little plan to make sure Roman felt like he had no idea what was going on.”

“…J, what is he talking about?”

“Oh, he’s not going to tell you,” Remus says, “but I will.”

“Remus—“

“You said that you knew Roman,” Remus says, talking right over him, “and you knew that if you pushed him in the right direction, you’d be able to get him to listen to you easily.”

Even Logan pauses.

“Do you remember what you said, Janny?” Remus’s eyes bore into Janus’s mind. “Do you?”

“…Remus, please.”

Remus’s grin drops.

“You said,” he whispers, “that if you just fucked with his name, he’d be in the palm of your hand.”

And he was.

"Conveniently, everyone seems to have forgotten that. Forgotten what you did. Or they don't care."

Remus tightens his grip on Roman. 

"But not me."

Guilt presses hot and thick against Janus’s throat. Unbidden, huge, fat tears start to form in his eyes as he stares at the wound on Roman’s gasping chest. Distantly, he thinks he can hear the others muttering but all he can think about is how much of this is a lie.

Roman isn’t the evil twin.

Roman isn’t Remus.

Roman isn’t stupid.

Roman isn’t worthless.

Roman isn’t a toy or a puppet or a tool.

Roman isn’t selfish or greedy or arrogant.

Roman is hurt and scared and Janus is so, so sorry.

He lets out a growl of his own and presses his hand hard to the wound.

Lie. Lie.

This is a lie.

Truth is hard and unyielding and painful but nothing is more painful than knowing that all of this is built on a lie.

Janus grits his teeth and concentrates, his hands trembling as he presses it against the wound, searching, searching for—

There.

He closes his fist around the lie and yanks, pulling the words and the hurt and the ache out of Roman’s chest in a bright flash.

When it’s gone, Roman’s chest is heaving, bruises still littering his torso, but the big wound is nowhere to be seen.

Panting, Janus clenches his fist until the lie shatters into pieces, the shard disappearing into harmless puffs of air.

He looks back.

Logan and Patton are staring at him open-mouthed. Virgil has his hands bunched up in his hoodie. Remus just stares at him, his face unreadable.

And Roman…

Roman looks up at him, panting too, but it doesn’t feel quite so wrong anymore.

“I can’t promise that this one won’t hurt you ever anymore,” he vows, “but I can promise that it will never have that much power again.”

Roman reaches out a hand. Janus lets him pull him closer.

“For what it’s worth,” he says, “I’m sorry.”

Janus huffs. “I can also promise that you’re not nearly as sorry as I am.”

They let their eyes fall closed as Janus’s hands steady Roman, landing lightly on his sides and just resting there. Roman tips forward and his forehead lands against Janus’s.

For a second, the room just breathes.

“Can we clean you up,” Janus whispers, “the rest of the way?”

“L-Logan?”

“I’m right here, Roman,” Logan says instantly, “what do you need?”

“Can I—wanna sleep.”

“I don’t think you’ve got a concussion, so that should be alright…” Logan glances at Patton. “Let’s have you drink a little more and then you can rest, hmm?”

“Okay.”

“Come on, kiddo,” Patton coaxes, “here we go…”

As Virgil and Logan set about cleaning again, Janus runs his hands slowly over every injury he can, plucking out what little lies there are and sending them away. He can tell by the weight of Remus’s stare on him that he’s not in the clear yet, but the way Roman starts to sag slowly makes it easier.

“Alright,” Logan murmurs after a while, “I think that’s all we can do.”

“…sleep?”

“Yes, Roman, you can sleep now. Would you like us to help you to your bed?”

Roman blinks, his hand reaching out for— “Re?”

“I gotcha, Ro-Bro.”

“Re…” Roman mumbles sleepily as he all but collapses into Remus.

“…yeah I’m okay with that.”

Logan jerks his head towards Roman’s mattress. Together, they drag it down to the floor and help Remus get Roman onto it. Logan murmurs that he’s going to go put the first aid kit away, but that he’ll be right back. Patton gathers up the glasses and leaves with the same promise.

Virgil glances back and forth between Remus and Janus.

“…you guys remember that this is about what Roman needs, right?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay good.”

Virgil reaches out to brush a little of Roman’s hair out of his face.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Neither am I.”

Logan and Patton reappear at the door and slot themselves in around the mattress. Remus looks at Janus.

Janus deliberately sits between Roman and the door, something he’s seen Remus do too many times.

Remus nods.

This conversation is far from over, but right now…

Right now, Roman mumbles sleepily and grabs onto Remus’s sleeve.

There is truly so much that they never see, isn’t there? Logan wasn’t wrong, the amount of Roman that’s never been on camera is truly staggering.

Janus has let that lie of omission cause too much damage for too long.

Right now, he’s got work to do.

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[gabolange]

So, let’s talk about Leverage: Redemption. In which I am medium-whelmed at best.

Spoilers below the cut.

I finished the show a couple of days ago and I keep trying to figure out why I didn’t love it. This isn’t to say I didn’t like it, because I did, but it didn’t land for me the way it seems to have landed for a lot of people, and so here I am with, like, meta. Party like it’s 2008 and all that.

2008. I actually didn’t meet Leverage until 2010 despite friends telling me for ages I should watch. It one of those moments that became a forever memory for many reasons, but the most important is this: the show was perfect. Those first hours spent watching a rerun marathon on TNT on a hot-as-fuck July 4 in Albuquerque, New Mexico came with them the understanding that this show was truly special.

It was funny, it was topical, it was sexy, and it was so fucking smart. I fell in love right away with all of them, but especially with Sophie, and with Nate, and with their complicated, complex, adult history. And then over the course of catching up and keeping up, I fell even harder, with them and those themes, with watching Parker and Hardison grow into themselves, with watching Eliot deal every day with his demons. I loved the way the show balanced light and dark, how it could have Archie’s zappy cane in the same breath as Eliot giving Nate advice about what it would mean to kill. I loved that we all loved Maggie, even though ex-wives are known in television to be evil shrews. I loved Tara’s complexity, and Sterling’s wit, and how every episode was a chess game. And oh, how I loved Sophie’s journey, how she had to decide every day not how to live but who to be.

When I say it was perfect, I don’t mean it didn’t have its duds. Of course it did. But it did the thing it was trying to do better than anyone has ever done it, with intelligence and respect, and its finale is one of the three best series finales ever filmed.

This is all to say the bar for Leverage: Redemption was both sky high and very low. When I heard they weren’t bringing Nate back, my first thought was don’t you fucking dare break my heart. If Nate was drunk off his ass in a ditch somewhere, if he had broken Sophie’s heart--that would be the ultimate betrayal (hi, I still have feelings about The Doctor Blake Mysteries). And so the bar was: don’t break my heart, while also being something like the perfect show.

They didn’t break my heart. I said early the best thing would be to kill Nate after he and Sophie had good, long, happy years together. And they did, and it was the right place to start.

They gave me that, and I am grateful, but when I look at the rest, I guess I was underwhelmed. Or at least only whelmed. Medium-whelmed at best.

There were things I loved: Hardison and Parker’s relationship. Eliot’s careful watch over Sophie. Hardison growing up to become the most epic white hat hacker ever. The idea that getting back into the game would be the thing that would make Sophie happy. Hardison’s commentary on redemption. The idea of Leverage: International. Gina Bellman is still made of magic and heartbreak and perfection.

There were things I liked: I am fond of our Mister Wilson, even if I find Noah Wylie about as interesting as plain toast. There were some truly great Eliot beats. I don’t yet like Breanna, but I like the idea of Breanna. I liked the way Nate hovered over the entire thing, because Sophie brought him with her. I think the sets were great, and I was impressed at how much they were able to do in a pandemic. I found utterly baffling but nonetheless charming that we meet Harry in the middle of a failed heist in which the team judges his technique and then adopts him. I liked Fake Nate and everything they did with that. The show had many bright spots, and I don’t in any way want to diminish them.

But. It wasn’t smart. It wasn’t sexy. Except for Sophie’s grief and Hardison’s plans, it picked up the character beats where we left them ten years ago. Has Parker been mastermind for this entire time? I would have loved to see that. Have they learned how to do this well without Sophie and Nate? I would have loved to see that. Show me the history.

Show me the history. Breanna and Hardison and Parker all say this is the worst timeline, and we know it is because we have lived it. But in the universe of the show, it doesn’t really seem that bad -- the plots of the week were silly and so small. I remember finding Damien Moreau too big, once upon a time, but this all felt too easy, the stakes far too small for this to be a show where everything has gotten worse. Nate almost murdered two guys in cold blood, folks. The show was missing any of the darkness that made the original truly compelling, and so lost the balance we loved between that and finding joy. I don’t need it in every episode, but I need a hint that there’s something bigger and meaner out there other than throwaway dialog.

(And, when it tried to go dark, it swung and missed. The episode with the collapsed building was timely, but as someone with anxiety and PTSD, the way the crew played on this guy who had apparently tried to do better this time around...was kinda not okay, to be honest.)

I don’t have OT3 goggles, but I think if I did, I would find Hardison’s absence a little sad--he was the glue, and they needed to do more to bring Parker and Eliot together as friends / colleagues / long-term members of the same polycue / whatever. But even without OT3 goggles, I missed Hardison a whole lot. And I am SO happy for Aldis Hodge growing up to be a real movie star, but he brought so much presence and capability to every scene he was in, even when he was just a kid. Nobody else has his gravitas, or Timothy Hutton’s.

I do have Sophie goggles, and Sophie / Nate goggles. And they didn’t ruin the ship or anything, of course not. But I missed the frisson they brought, the way they made the show just that much more adult. And I am so very, very glad they got their happiness, but I am kinda sad that sexy got replaced with grief.

So yeah. I don’t know. I didn’t hate it at all. I am willing to give it a chance, to let it grow into something I love. But it isn’t, at least not yet.

(x-posted to dreamwidth)

[misskittysmagicportal]

can i request something to do with the thing about vincent having tics while giving oral or just vincent giving oral general i love the way you write things

I Think We're Alone Now

(Vincent Rhodes x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: language, talk of mental health, fem!receiving oral

A/N: With the pandemic keeping you and Vincent apart, he was glad that being alone didn't mean being lonely.

Vincent Rhodes didn't tic as bad or as much in his thirties. He wasn't cured. He didn't take medicine that made them magically go away. He took meds for his anxiety, and the “cure” was still going to therapy with Dr Rose. He didn't go daily or weekly or even monthly anymore. He managed every other month. Sometimes, perhaps, every three to four months. Yet it took twenty-five to finally accept a cliche: Tourette's wasn't Vincent, Vincent simply HAD Tourette's.

Don't worry though, cunt is still his favorite word.

Vincent also did all the things he told Marie he wanted to do. He finished school and went to college online. He found himself rather good at computers and a job that required the bare minimum of human interaction. His Tourette's was under control, but his social anxiety never seemed to be. We digress!

He had a job, and a place to call home that wasn't a treatment facility or a hoarder’s house bogged down by sadness and alcoholism. Vincent didn't find it shameful that his father bought him a condo. He and his roommate had an agreement to pay utilities and work on the re-election campaign.

Vincent finally had a dog. A dog he had to fight for because his roommate had.. Rituals. Rituals that also weren't as bad as they used to be thanks to the same therapy and right medication. Just like you can't get rid of Tourette's, Vincent couldn't get rid of Alex either. That was his first, and really only, friend. As tumultuous as they started out, if you survive a road trip with two neurodivergents, you're pretty much bonded for life. Alex was sometimes more work than their dog.

Vincent and Alex did things in their late twenties and early thirties they never thought they'd do. They went out. They dated around. They had awkward sex and one night stands that the two of them could finally laugh about. Vincent could hide, or save his tics from popping up during his dates. He could even manage to hold them off when he had sex. He was relaxed and focused on the woman beneath or above him.

But then he would spasm, or twist and pop his mouth. He would unintentionally squeal or swear, call her names or flip her off. Instead of understanding Vincent, or talking to him, whoever the girl of the moment was would leave and never come back. Fuck her, Vincent would think. I can't help that I have Tourette’s; she can help being an asshole.

-----

There could not have been a worse time in anyone’s life for you to meet quite possibly the single hottest guy in your neighborhood. At least, you thought he was in your neighborhood. You kept running into each other at various stores to the point you found yourself quoting an old movie from college.

“Are you stalking me?” You boldly questioned him one afternoon as he pondered Mcintosh versus Fiji apples. “Because that would be super.”

The man jumped. Then to your shock, he spasmed almost violently. His neck twisted to the left as his hand held on to his chin and yelled out, “Brown haired cunt! Grass licking big tits.”

You laughed. It wasn't malicious or in jest. You were nervous and stunned. Still you replied, “Normally a guy has to date me for a while before he calls me a cunt. Now as for grass licking? That was only once, but I was high and we were playing truth or dare.”

He stared at you, mouth agape. A violent spasm rocked his body again like an aftershock. It caused him to excessively blow a dark curl back from his forehead several times before his body relaxed and he appeared to sink in on himself. Embarrassed. A pink hue spread along his cheeks and angled jaw as he gazed at the apples again with large green eyes.

“You ok? I wouldn't say I've got big tits. They're more like medium sized. Unless you were talking about the melons.” You held up two cantaloupe in front of your chest. “I’m y/n”

Again with the mouth open staring. Then he came to, “Vincent. I've never had someone react to Arthur that way.”

“I'm from New York. That was a Saturday night in the village. Who’s Arthur?” You looked around. “Are you being held hostage? Scream cunt for yes. Vagina for no.”

Vincent laughed. It was almost a giggle that you weren't sure was a laugh or his thing. “Arthur is my Tourette's. He's the clown who shits in between my thoughts. My tics. You scared the piss out of him.”

“You named your Tourette's? You can't do that, they never go away once you name them.”

Vincent rolled his eyes, “ DAMMIT! I'll take away his bowl of food and dog bed too. Maybe I'll finally be cured!”

You didn't want him to think you felt something was wrong with him. “Mostly with all of this, I meant I keep seeing you around. Thought I'd say hi.”

“How about we exchange phone numbers, and you can say hello more often?” Vincent cocked an eyebrow.

“Bold of you to assume calling me a cunt is flirting! But you got it out of the way now instead of down the line. Give me your phone.”

He obliged and you put your number in. As you handed it back you joked, “Should've told me you had a much sexier friend.” You indicated Alex on the phone’s wallpaper.

“He's gay.”

“Damn! Lucky for men. Anyways, I work most days. Don't know how long with everything happening out there. Call me sometime?”

Vincent twitched and wolf whistled. He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, but promised he would nonetheless. But then pandemic happened, so all you had for the next six months was your phone

-----

You met Alex and learned his rituals and empathized with his panic to follow or abide by heath guidance. His OCD aggravated by everything going on. Vincent couldn't even go for a run without his friend completely freaking out, so he just didn't. Their balcony was it for fresh air.

You took tours of each other's apartments. Had dinners and breakfasts together. Shared what books you were reading and watched movies together. Vincent teased you about your fat, lazy cat and you did likewise over his ten pound shih tzu. Although, you admitted, it was because she got to share a bed with him.

Somehow in month 5 you were roped into a three way phone call with his dad. Senator Rhodes and Vincent seemed to have an easy relationship, but you were filled in later that it was anything but for a very long time. So you turned the tables one night, and introduced him to your entire family.

Forgetting about his Tourette's, because you had really grown used to it all. To the tics, the whistles and excessive use of the word cunt (Pandemic drinking game, Vincent’s idea) that his biggest episode since you met stunned not only you but your clan. Vincent had buried his face, you were terrified of your mistake. But you got it from somewhere.

“Sure you ain't from Brooklyn, kid?!” Thank Christ for meathead brothers.

“This is dating right?” Vincent asked after their dinner. “Pandemic, COVID, for now dating. Even though,” he paused to twist his neck, “One of my coworkers has uh, dick appointments all the time?” He snapped a finger several times and shouted something about a whore and syphilis.

“Hey! Tell Arthur to fuck off. Sexual liberation. She's not a whore, she's in her twenties!” Vincent laughed. “Are you nervous about something? Usually the bedtime part of our phone calls are the least tic-ish.”

“Wanna have sex?” He was straightforward.

“Right now? Facetime sex?” You scrunch your nose but more to be cute than creeped out.

“Here. Alex is asleep. Come over? We've been isolated for months.”

“God, I love you.”

“What?” Vincent laughed. “Are you sure about that?”

“I'll be there in twenty minutes.”

-----

Vincent opened the door and implored you to take your shoes off at the door. You expected nothing less as you complied and followed him in the stillness of the apartment to his bedroom.

The moment the door was shut, Vincent was on you before you could even adjust to the dark. Only street lamps from the neighborhood below showed through as his mouth consumed yours.

Your tongues at war with each other as the two of you scrambled to undress. Your lips broke apart long enough to throw shirts over heads and step out of flannel pants or yoga pants. Then they crashed together again as Vincent let his hands splay out the length of your back and shoulders.

Your one hand ensnared by his messy hair. The other under the waistband of his boxers and over his ass. You drew his body to yours to melt into. His erection strained and throbbed against your hip as you hungrily pushed your tongue as far inside him as you could.

The both of you eager like teenagers shot with adrenaline. Anxious and hoping Alex caught you as Vincent twitched and his shoulders shrugged up to his ears. His fingers fumbled with your bra made worse by his tics. Tics that frustrated only him; you reached and undid it for him. Your breasts were free for him to look at.

Vincent attempted to choke back his words but failed. “Tit fucker,” a sour look on his face as his eye involuntarily clamped shut, “huge nipples.” He swallowed his lips, mortified.

“Hey!! They make up for yours being the tiniest nipples I have EVER seen on a dude.” You took Vincent’s hand. “We can slow down if you want. I don't know what's up, do you tic like this every time you have sex?”

The two of you laid side by side on his bed, hands traced over inches of bare skin. Vincent was silent for a while as he let his fingers trail over you, his lips not far behind.

“I don't. I'm usually too focused. The last time I loved someone, it fell apart immediately. It's making me anxious.”

You held his head to your body with a tenderness. “I loved you first, didn't I?”

His mouth made its way amongst your breasts as he gently laid you on your back. His lips warm on your stomach and hips that he exposed by tugging your panties down over your knees and off. Vincent laid down between them and almost nuzzled his nose in your soft pubic hair before his tongue dove inside of you.

Your hips rocketed up into his mouth as you grabbed the back of Vincent's head. He licked and sucked on your sex. Small tics caused him to push his tongue and lips in further than before. They closed in on your clit. His tongue attacked it with a lapping motion that you could only bend to, helpless.

Vincent was insatiable, his mouth in a frenzy. Your fingers caught up in the sheets as the sensation of his mouth on your clit spread along your body. Now your words were a shock as they came screaming out into the quiet of the bedroom.

“Tongue fuck me! Faster!”

Instead Vincent looked up at you with a grin, “I see Arthur came to visit.”

Tag: @robertsheehanownsmyass @slutforrobbiebro @super-unpredictable98 @magic-multicolored-miracle @sean-falco @elliethesuperfruitlover @bisexualnathanyoung @bwritesstuff @firstpersonnarrator @rob-private

[andguesswhat]

The fool on the hill - Chapter 8

This is a thankless chapter but it still had to be written. So here we go...

I’m fine

*

And then everything was overshadowed by a ominous virus. 

It was on the news and in their minds. 

They talked about it, discussed it, tried to evaluate it with each new piece of information they got, tried to classify it, they weighed all scenarios, they talked about every goddamn disaster movie that came to their minds. 

They were worried. About their families, their friends, themselves.

And finally it was certain they had to stop fliming and take a break. 

The crew was sent home. 

Owen went back to Santa Monica. And Tom could understand. Owen wanted to be there for his kids and needed to see his brothers. 

Tom himself decided to stay in Atlanta. He liked being here and somehow he felt safer than being in busy, overcrowded London. 

Well, like almost everybody else he thought that yes, this virus was horrible but it would only take a few weeks and then they could go back to working.  

So Tom went for jogs, went for walks with Bobby, he read, he talked to friends and his family on the phone, he watched movies, he cooked and he read some more… 

But the virus was still there.

And like almost everybody else Tom somehow got used to it. So his worrying thoughts about this pandemic got less and made room for more conventional thoughts… or at least thoughts about Owen.   

Yes, Owen… of course, about Owen. 

Their contact had been more or less non-existing. 

Sure, Tom had texted Owen and asked him if he was alright. But Owen more or less had just replied with “Yeah I’m fine. How are you?” 

Okay, he did write a bit more but still… It wasn’t enough for Tom. He felt demoted to being a colleague, an acquaintance like others, whereas his longing for Owen had gotten even worse. 

He missed him. He missed him sooo sooo much. 

Missed talking to him, laughing with him… and just being near him. 

And far too often his thoughts went to their encounter on that hill. 

He on top of Owen, their hard-ons pressed together, Owen grabbing his ass, pulling up his leg… 

Sometimes Tom even got a hard-on just thinking about that and he would grab a cushion to groan his frustration into. He didn’t want to be the one getting desperate.  

So when he jerked off under the shower he tried to think about 1000 different hot guys but not Owen. Because thinking about Owen was just too pathetic. 

And it hurt so much when Tom slowly had to realize that they apparently weren’t on the same level. 

Because when they were… Owen would call him, right?

He knew Owen wasn’t the guy to text long messages. 

But he could have called, right?

They could flirt on the phone, send each other naughty pics… 

Okay, Tom hadn’t called him either. He didn’t dare because he was afraid to interrupt something. Maybe Owen was with his kids. 

At some point Tom got worried if Owen was really okay, if his mood got worse and he didn’t want to tell Tom, so he wrote him again. But again everything he got was “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for caring. I hope, you are fine, too.” I was just damn frustrating. 

The weeks went by and Tom got more and more moody. 

He always thought of himself as a guy that had no problems being alone. He actually liked being alone. Having his space, not having to make arrangements with anyone, not having to take anyone into consideration. He always could do what he wanted, when he wanted. 

But now in this pandemic with almost zero contact to others… while others were with their families…. it buggered him badly. (And maybe, just maybe, he had gotten a little too comfortable having Owen around.)

When he ran, he wished Owen would run by his side. When he finished a book, he wanted to tell Owen about it and ask what he had been reading, when he cooked he wanted to cook for two. 

But who was he to complain?

The world was in turmoil…

But he was healthy.

He had Bobby to keep him company.

He was fine. 

*

And then.. 

… he wasn’t fine anymore. 

“He… fucking... grabbed… my ass!” he growled into the phone.

Zawe laughed. “Yeah, you already told me…”

“Yeah… I’m sorry... But why, why isn’t he calling? … Or texting?” Anything actually!

For a couple of days now Zawe had to listen to his whining about fucking mean Owen that wouldn’t call him, wouldn’t send him flirty messages (or dirty pics, but he didn’t say that to Zawe, he had to maintain at least a little dignity). 

“And how is this supposed to work anyway? Am I supposed to make him unhappy so we can be together?” He was really upset. 

“You know that it doesn’t work like this,“ Zawe tried to calm him down. “He just has to get used to liking you. And you know that.”

Tom sighed. “Yeah…” Yes, he knew. 

Still…! 

He was so … frustrated.  “I think he is getting used to forgetting about me.” He didn’t even care that he sounded like a pouting teenager in love. 

“Maybe you just have to tell him, you were Rear of the Year. Maybe this gets his attention… ” Zawe burst out laughing. 

Tom just groaned. 

He knew Zawe just wanted to cheer him up. But it didn’t work.  

“I can’t remember telling you that!” he growled. “Who told you?”

Zawe apparently didn’t want to expose the traitor right away so she said, “Who said that I don’t follow this award?” But Tom wasn’t even close to comment on that. 

“Okay,” Zawe capitulated. “It was Josie…”

“I’ll keep that in mind…” Tom tried to answer mockingly but it sounded all wrong. 

“I wonder… Did you get a trophy for that?” Zawe’s voice was still way too cheerful. He wished he could joke with her but he just wasn’t in the mood for it. 

“Don’t make it more ridiculous than it is,” he said with a sigh. There were things in his past he didn’t want to be reminded of. 

At least Zawe apparently gave up trying to lighten his mood.  

“How about I come and visit you?” she asked after a pause. Her voice sounded kind of worried so Tom had the urge to refute that. 

“I’m fine. You don’t have to come.”

“Yeah, I still want to. I want to see you, want to talk to you, face to face... I’ll book a flight for this weekend.”

Tom loved the idea of having Zawe here with him but this was still… “You don’t have to do this. It’s a long flight… There is still a risk you get infected… I’m fine-“

“Thomas William Hiddleston,” Zawe interrupted him firmly, “if you want a baby with me, you have to respect my decisions. And that is one of them. I’m coming to Atlanta this weekend.”

And Tom had to admit Zawe’s decision was worth gold. 

The minute she arrived everything was way easier to handle. 

She stayed for a couple of weeks and they had a wonderful time. It was so relaxed and comfortable that on their last evening together, as they lay on the couch watching a movie, after another day full of relaxed conversations and good cooking, Tom wondered why the hell they couldn’t be in love with each other. Everything would be so much easier, wouldn’t it? 

But love was never easy. It always hurt. Before and after and sometimes in between. 

*

Somehow time passed and in September they were finally able to continue filming. 

Owen called him a few days before and Tom didn’t know what to feel. On the one hand he was tremendously excited and his heart wanted to beat faster. But on the other hand, he was disillusioned and sad that Owen apparently didn’t have as much feelings for him as Tom had for him.  

But Owen probably didn’t realize any of that anyway, because he was constantly talking. He had big news to tell: Luke would also be shooting in Atlanta and they already got a place where they both could stay. Tom was happy for Owen but he was afraid that this would change too much between them. He doubted that they would still spend so much time together when Luke was around.

“Man, it’s so good to hear your voice! I’ve missed it,” he heard Owen drawl on the other side of the phone, all cheerful. 

Tom rolled his eyes and tried not to sound too reproachful when he said, “You could have had that earlier if you had called me.” …once.

“I knooow, I’m sorry,” Owen replied and his tone hadn’t lost a milligram of his cheerfulness. “But we see each other on Monday, right?! Can’t wait to see you!” 

Tom sighed. It felt so good to hear Owen. He didn't want to, but he knew he couldn’t stay mad at him for long. 

And for what anyway?

Either you love someone or you don’t. He couldn’t make Owen fall in love with him if he wasn’t. Even if he wished he could.

So for the next days Tom tried to push his longing aside and was just happy that he was going to see Owen again.  And he didn’t even had to wait until Monday. On Sunday Owen called again to invite Tom over to their place to have dinner. 

Their embrace was long and warm, and it felt good. And even though Tom was sad deep down, his smile was genuine. He loved seeing Owen, seeing him laugh, hearing his drawl… he had missed him so much.

He was surprised that actually everything felt like there hadn’t been horrible six months in between, everything felt like it used to be. Well, before their incident on the hill that was.

But it was a really nice evening; Tom could not say it otherwise. Luke was lovely. And Owen seemed proud of his brother being here and that Tom could finally meet him.

They talked, they laughed and Tom tried to ignore the occasional twinge in his heart whenever he would look at Owen for a second too long. Wishing secretly he would lie with him on the sofa, counting his eyelashes.

“He was so proud that I finally got to meet you,” Luke winked at him, when Owen went into the kitchen to get some drinks. “He has so much respect for you.”

Tom tried to smile.

It was nice to hear that and to know that it was the other way around then he had thought… that it was important to Owen to introduce him to Luke.

But deep down, it hurt.

Because it seemed that sometimes everything wasn’t enough to make someone fall in love with you.

When they hugged to say goodbye for the night, Owen looked at Tom attentively …

“Everything okay with you?”

Tom pressed his lips together before he answered.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

“Oh wait! I forgot…” Owen jumped back in and came back with a slightly tattered book in his hand that he handed to Tom.

“This is the one book I was talking to you about. The other one is apparently on Maui.” He grinned. “So you have to come and visit me there to get it.”

And even if Tom didn’t want to, he grinned back. “Thanks.”

He was moved that Owen had remembered.

“Sure… Good to see you, man” Owen’s smile was soft now and Tom hated himself for falling for him so easily again. He wished he wouldn’t get his hopes up again but he was afraid it was already too late for that.

“Glad you’re back…” he finally managed to say. “See you tomorrow on set.”

And with that he turned and disappeared into the night.

Yeah, he was fine.

At least he would be, somehow.

*

[loving-barnes]

RED, SUS! - BUCKY BARNES

(A/N): I mean, come on, I had to write one where the team is playing Among us.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Summary: Tony calls everyone to play the current video game trend - Among us.

Warning: language, a bit fluff at the end

Words: 2800+

FULL MASTERLIST

RED, SUS! - BUCKY BARNES 

The gaming world was absorbed by the new game. Everyone was streaming it, playing with friends. It was the perfect game to play during a pandemic. Unfortunately, the illness got into the Avengers compound too. Some of the agents and workers were in isolation due to the virus. Also, even though some people could be considered as Gods, this nuisance got them too. Clint remained isolated in his room, Natasha and Wanda were sick too. Their symptoms were mild, fortunately. 

Tony’s orders were strict: social distancing for at least 14 days; checking via FRIDAY if anyone was in the kitchen; no gatherings or work meetings; those not affected had to be prepared for urgent or unexpected missions; masks were necessary for the hallways and common rooms and many more.

Every day, between two and five in the afternoon, they had to remain in their rooms due to obligatory disinfection that was happening in common rooms, hallways and other rooms. 

They were in the middle of their two-week personal lockdown when Tony sent everyone a message to log onto their laptops. Y/N was reading a book, slowly falling asleep when it happened. She checked her phone: Conference call, urgent, now. 

Y/N knew Tony pretty well. These types of messages never meant discussing work or missions. It was something for his amusement - mostly. Unwillingly and without a choice, she turned on her laptop and joined the conference call. 

Natasha: Hey, YN, you joined!

Y/N waved with a hand and then scratched her neck. She looked like a mess - baggy jumper, hair in a bun and her face looked sad and tired. In conclusion, she didn’t care less. The team saw her in her worst already - drunk and almost dead. 

Sam: What happened to you, Y/N? You look terrible. 

Y/N: Shut it, Wilson. I am well. This is my pandemic outfit. 

Bucky chuckled. She knew it was him because she could recognize his voice and other sounds anywhere. 

Steve: Tony, what is the meaning behind all of this? 

Tony: I’m glad you asked. Now that you are all here, and as you can see, I wanted you to join me in an adventure like never before. 

Y/N: Tony, I will not drink with you while being on a conference call. 

Tony: Y/N, I am not a madman. I don’t believe in virtual drinking. No, this one does not involve alcohol. All you need is your brain and the ability to lie. 

Natasha: Sounds interesting, continue. 

Tony: There is this new video game called Among Us which is an online multiplayer game. This game is pretty simple, there are crewmates or impostors. Crewmates have to do tasks to win and Impostors have to sabotage, fake tasks and kill to win. The goal of the game is to identify impostors and vote them out - yes, there will be meetings where we have to vote out someone or skip. The meetings also happen when someone reports a body. 

Both Wanda and Y/N made a sound that reminded of howling. They were interested. 

Bucky: Come on, you really called us to play some stupid video game. 

Wanda: Hey! Shush! I want to play. I am so bored in my room. I need some distraction. 

Y/N: Yes, exactly. This sounds so good. Let’s play, everyone, please.

Steve: Honestly, I am bored so I will join. However, I need instructions. 

Tony: Not a problem, buddy. I have already installed the game and sent you everything necessary. Just to explain one last detail. We will be on a conference call while playing. But, once the round starts, everyone has to mute their mics. When a meeting is called, you have to unmute and we discuss who to vote out and why. Once you are dead, you have to stay muted until the end of the game. At the beginning of every round, you will see whether you are an imposter or a crewmate. Don’t forget, impostors have to lie. 

Y/N: Give us ten minutes to check the materials and to start the game, alright? We have some people that are not too good with this type of technology. 

Y/N mocked Steve and Bucky especially. They were friends and she occasionally had to tease them. And when Sam was getting on her nerves, she would treat him the same way, if not even worse. 

Clint: Oh, that is easy. 

Natasha: Finally, something that will keep me occupied for more than ten seconds. 

Bruce: Do I have to play? 

Tony: Yes. Ten people are needed for two impostors and for it to be fun. You are playing, Banner.

Y/N: Does everyone understand? 

The team simultaneously agreed, each person with a different tone. Y/N turned on the game, as well as the rest of the team did, putting on the code Tony had sent them. She spawned in a lobby, as a little lime figure. 

Tony: You can also customise colours and accessories by coming to the laptop and using it. 

Y/N quickly did as Tony informed them. She changed the colour to purple and put a golden crown on. It was adorable and it did represent her a little. When she was finished, the rest of the team was in the lobby. They also customised their figures to represent them. 

Y/N: Oh my god, this is already so much fun.

Tony: Just to clarify - the crewmate’s vision is lower than the imposters have. The kill cooldown is 30 seconds. Voting time is 120 seconds, etc. You can see it on your left. I am starting the game and don’t forget to mute your mics. 

Y/N muted her mic as the game started. She was a crewmate. They all were standing around a table. She started to move to the right. That was when she noticed a map on the screen. When she opened it, a blue map appeared with yellow exclamation marks. When she ran to the first room, she noticed a chair was illuminated with yellow colour. 

"Alright, asteroids," she mumbled and did the task. 

Other players passed her, or stayed near her, even Bucky’s character did. His figure was white. When she moved, he moved with her. “That’s sus,” she commented and moved down the map to find another task. Bucky was still with her until the lights went off. 

“Fuck,” she whisper-shouted when the light around her was just a tiny circle. Several figures were around her and a report button appeared. She quickly clicked it. 

A board with all the names showed. Wanda and Sam were dead. She quickly unmuted her mic to talk to the rest of the players. “What the fuck was that?”

Tony: Where is the body?

Y/N: Down in the O2 I believe. The lights went off and suddenly, so many people were around me. Just a report button appeared. 

Steve: Who was there except you? 

Y/N: I saw Bucky, who was following me - by the way, sus, Barnes. You did your asteroids way too quickly. 

Bucky: I didn’t have that task, I just wanted to stay with you. 

Tony: Sus!

Natasha: Steve and I were in the admin. That fucking card swipe. I failed it like ten times! 

Y/N: Anyway, I think I saw Sam, Bruce and Clint with us. Now, Sam is dead. 

Clint: What if it’s you?

Y/N: How dare you, Barton? 

The time was slowly coming to its end and it was time to vote. Y/N had no idea who did the kill. She quickly voted skip. 

Bruce: We can skip because there are still eight of us. 

Tony: Banner, sus. 

Everyone skipped except Tony, who voted Clint. No one was ejected and the game could continue. They reappeared in the cafeteria around the table. This time, Y/N went down, because her map showed her she had some task there. Again, Bucky followed her. He stayed at the very beginning of the room while she went in and did the card swipe task. She was lucky to finish it on her second try. Once she was finished, Bucky was nowhere to be seen. 

She moved to the wires task. She heard the door to the cafeteria close. When she cleared the task, Bucky was again with her. Maybe he was just protecting her. She had no idea. 

The reactor was called. It was time to fix it. Bucky and Y/N moved through storage, under the electrical where they were met with Natasha, Tony and Bruce. They all moved to the reactor where Vision was. Everyone stacked on the upper reactor while Y/N was down alone. The reactor was saved and a body was reported. Natasha and Steve were killed. 

Bucky: What the hell happened? Natasha is dead and there are like four of us. 

Y/N: Was that a double kill? 

Tony: No, it was only Nat. Captain was killed somewhere else, obviously. 

Bruce: Most of us were together except Y/N, Bucky and Clint. 

Bucky: Y/N and I were in admin, doing our tasks. 

Tony: What about you, Vision? 

Vision: I am afraid I was alone most of the time. I did see people on cameras where I spent most of the time this round. 

Y/N: Clint, what about you? 

Clint: I was in… I don’t know the name but I came from the upper side of the map. 

Tony: I saw Steve going the way where medbay is. 

Y/N: Barton, you killed Steve!

Clint: No, I didn’t. 

Tony: Barton, get out of here. 

The voting was quickly coming to its end and almost everyone voted. Clint was the last one. He refused. When the time was up, the gang voted for Clint and he was ejected. 

Bucky: That’s what you get.

Y/N: That’s sus.

The game continued and Y/N was almost done with her tasks. Bucky was most of the time with her, again. When the lights went out again, she had decided not to go into the electrical. She didn’t want to die. It had been a long time since something happened. No bodies were reported, the taskbar was almost full. Alone, she quickly ran to the cafeteria and pressed the report button. When the board appeared, Only Bruce, Bucky and her were alive. 

Y/N: What?!

Bruce: Bucky, how could you? 

Bucky: Honestly, Bruce, I saw you kill Tony. Don’t blame me for this. 

Y/N: Oh no.

Bruce: Y/N, please don’t believe him, please. I am not the impostor. I was about to report the body when you hit the emergency button. 

Bucky: Wow, you are such a good liar. 

Y/N: No, don’t do this to me. 

Both of the men voted for each other, leaving her to decide the fate of the game. Who should she vote out? Bucky was with her most of the time and she did not see Bruce a lot. It made sense it was Banner. However, Bucky could be very good at this, using tactics like being in a field. 

Bruce: Y/N, you have to vote - vote for him. I am a crewmate. I saw him kill Tony in the lower reactor. 

Y/N: I mean, to be honest, Bucky was with me almost the whole game. I don’t think he would be able to do this. 

Bruce: No, Y/N, don’t do this. He needed you as an alibi. 

Bucky: How the hell would I do that? I was by her side the whole time and did my tasks. 

Y/N quickly voted for who she believed was the killer. When the results had shown, she voted for Bruce. For her, it made a lot of sense. How else would Bucky be able to do it? The rest of the team unmuted, screaming her name, laughing and making scenes. After a few seconds, the revelation came - they lost. Bucky was, in fact, the second impostor. 

Y/N: I mean, fuck both of you. What the actual fuck. You fucking tricked me!

Tony: Kids calls it marinating. 

Bucky: I am sorry, doll. You were the perfect person to stick with. 

Y/N: Again, fuck you. 

Bucky: You wish.

Sam: Wow, can you feel the sexual tension? 

Natasha: Sam, why do you make such stupid comments. You are such an intelligent man. 

Y/N changed her colour to Red, taking Wanda’s colour. She didn’t mind because she changed it into yellow. The next few games were funny. Two rounds Tony was an impostor. First with Steve than with Bruce. Two hours later, it was Y/N’s turn and she was paired with Bucky. 

“Holy shit,” she mumbled and sighed. This was her moment and she wanted to win, fast. She created a strategy. Before she could play by it, her phone rang. Bucky’s name appeared on her screen. “Yes?” 

“Well, what a dream team,” he chuckled. “What is the plan?” 

“First two kills, at random. After the first report, we will make a graveyard,” she said. “Honestly, that is going to be quick and funny.” 

“Sounds good. Where are you now?” he asked. 

She looked at the game and then at a map. “I am in admin, pretending to fail card swipe. I will turn off the lights once someone enters and then vent.” 

“I see Sam!”

“Kill him,” she encouraged him and turned off the lights. Vision came into the admin alone. 

They both took their opportunity and killed both people. Y/N vented into the cafeteria and went to weapons and Bucky quickly went into the comms, pretending to do a task. A few moments later, Sam’s body was reported. 

Natasha: Where is the body?

Wanda: Between O2 and shields. I think that is shields. 

Steve: Any suspicions? 

Y/N: I was passing by the cafeteria from medbay. When the lights were off, no one was around me. 

Tony: Bruce and I were in the reactor, doing the Simon says a thing. And I will fucking kill you for the report because now I have to do it again. 

Clint: Barnes, where were you? 

Bucky: On my way to storage. Did my quick task in coms. 

Bruce: So, no one is suspicious? 

Natasha: Honestly, we can skip. There are still eight of us. 

They all agreed and skipped voting. No one was ejected. When Y/N muted her mic, she went back to the call she had with Bucky. They both were laughing about the situation. “It’s a graveyard time.” 

“Where should we do it?” Bucky asked. 

“Reactor. After the first two kills, we will call the O2. During it, someone will come, searching for a body.” 

They both ran together into the reactor. Wanda was following them. She was about to become their first victim. After they arrived at the reactor, Bruce was also there, working on his Simon says. Their kill cooldown was almost at the end. 

“Come on, Buck, now!” 

Simultaneously, they killed Bruce and Wanda. Y/N waited almost ten seconds and called the O2 as she mentioned. Bucky quickly closed the doors around them, to slow them down. Their kill cooldown took thirty seconds and they needed time. 

The O2 was called off. They noticed the door around them opening and Tony was the first one approaching them. He reached the reactor and Bucky killed him. “One more and we win.”

“We have to hope someone else will come, otherwise they will call the button,” she explained. 

They were lucky. Steve and Natasha were on their way. Y/N quickly approached them and killed Steve. With that kill, the game was over and the impostors, Y/N and Bucky, won. 

Clint: What the fuck?

Natasha: How did you do that? 

Tony: They did a graveyard! 

Sam: Fuck you, Barnes, for killing me.

Bucky: It was my pleasure. 

Y/N: Oh my god, this was hilarious. Oh, my favourite round of all we played today. 

Bucky: Same. 

Tony: Want another game? 

Y/N: No, I want to take a break and make something to eat. We have been playing for hours. Let’s play tomorrow. 

Natasha: You are right. I need to take a nap after this. 

Steve: It’s almost seven. 

Natasha: My nap will take until tomorrow morning. 

Y/N’s phone beeped. She looked at the screen again. There was a text from the other impostor. Can I come over and watch a movie with you? It made her smile. 

Only if it involves the good popcorn you make and some kisses - she replied. They had been dating for over a month and things were going great. The team had their suspicions but they had decided not to meddle in their private life. Steve was happy and Tony was overly protective of Y/N but didn’t say a word. 

Y/N: I have to go. I am going to watch a movie. 

Clint: Oh yeah? Can I join? 

Y/N: No, I would like to enjoy it alone. 

Nat: Huh, that’s sus. 

Y/N: What is sus about it? 

Nat: Watching a movie, alone. Why would you want to watch it alone? 

Y/N: Because no one is making stupid comments during the movie I want to watch. 

Tony: Red, sus. 

Y/N: Alright, bye-bye friends. 

She ended the call and put her laptop on the night table. Rolling her eyes, she made her bed and went to the bathroom. Bucky would come any minute and she wanted to set the place. 

Who would have known this game would bring the whole team together? 

[buckybarnesthehotshot]

quarantine (steve rogers x reader oneshot)

main masterlist

Summary: y/n and steve are left to quarantine together in their house despite their broken marriage. will being stuck together bring them together or drive them apart?

word count: 2303

warnings: coronavirus, angst, mentions of a near-fatal accident, OOC Steve

A/N: I really wanted to do an angsty quarantine fic with the subtext of holding on to your loved ones especially now that we can’t be sure how much time we have left with each other 

       It’s been four years sine Steve Rogers and Y/N L/N officially tied the knot in a small ceremony held with their closest friends. The h/c-haired girl kept memories of the day near her heart for it was the most important day of her life. It was the day she promised herself to the love of her life. The day she was finally content with life.

       Unfortunately, her days of happiness and contentment were numbered. Sooner enough, her days of happiness were stolen from her when a near-fatal lab accident took place, leaving the girl bedridden for months. Of course, her husband didn’t know about the accident. How could he when he was out on a mission taking up the best of six months.

       When Steve returned from the mission, Y/N didn’t dare tell him about the accident in fear of making him view her as weak; an incompatible partner to the great Captain America. Hell, she didn’t tell him about their missed wedding anniversary either in fear of making Steve feel suffocated in their marriage. She didn’t want him to feel bad about himself.

       However, one day Y/N found herself bringing up the topic of not working missions as often as he did. Y/N didn’t expect the night to take the turn it did, but everything fell apart more after that night.

       Y/N only wanted what was best for their relationship, but Steve was far too blinded by duty to see her intentions. He was stubborn and he felt as though he owed the world his life. Like he was supposed to save every citizen in trouble.

       Y/N didn’t want him to stop. She just wanted him to take some time off for her, but it was those intentions that left her alone in their shared king-sized bed, sobbing over the fact that she was to blame for the situation she put them in. After that night, she swore to herself never to bring up missions to Steve anymore.

       The night after their argument, the pair found themselves drifting apart. Y/N felt as though she was living with the ghost; they shared a bed yet they never came in contact with each other. Y/N felt herself getting cold at night and longing for nothing but the feeling of her husband’s arms around her as he lulled her to sleep.

       When the government announced a country-wide state of lockdown, Y/N felt her heart break over again. This time, she would be forced to see Steve on a daily basis as a reminder of her failures as a wife. She wanted the pandemic to magically end, she didn’t’ want to be constantly reminded of her broken marriage she could never seem to bring herself to end.

       “Hey, Tony, do you think there’s a chance I can relocate even with this whole pandemic? I don’t think I could cope with having to stay here for the next few months,” Y/N overheard Steve talking into his phone. She sighed; of course, he wanted to leave the house just 12 hours after he was obligated to stay indoors with her.

       After that day, Y/N threw herself more and more into work just to actively avoid having to be in Steve’s presence. She even moved her things out their shared bedroom and into the guest bedroom down the hall, allowing Steve his own space.

       She followed through with her usual routines as though Steve wasn’t in the same house with her. She relied on security cameras to monitor whether or not the coast was clear of Steve and she could leave the room to grab a snack. Besides that, she rarely ever left the guest room.

       After two weeks of the same old routine, a horrid stench ran through the house. It was almost as though something was burning. The girl tore herself from her work desk and ran out the bedroom to see a thick cloud of gray smoke coming from the house’s kitchen which resulted in her coughing madly as the thick smoke invaded her lungs.

       “Damn it!” a familiar voice yelled out. Y/N ran into the kitchen, a cold red fire extinguisher in hand as she targeted the flames burning up on their stove, threatening to burn everything it came into contact with. When the substances found their way to each other, Y/N felt her lungs open up; she was finally able to breathe again.

       “What the fuck did you do to my kitchen!” the h/c-haired girl yelled in frustration upon seeing Steve standing over the stove covered in fire extinguisher fluid.

        “Your kitchen? I think you mean our kitchen,” Steve insisted, his brows furrowing at Y/N’s words.

        “No. You started a fucking kitchen fire; I think it’s fair you stay out of the kitchen! I was trying to get some fucking work done until your stupid antics had to get in the fucking way of that too!” the girl screamed at him, pulling at her h/c hair furiously.

       Of course, there was still a part of her that cared for Steve. How could she not? He was her husband. However, just like the cloud of smoke closed off her lungs, it also brought out her frustrations with the man. Could he at least be more considerate?

       “What the hell’s so important with your work, eh? Nothing you’ve done has been relevant to anything. Not since you left S.H.I.E.L.D without even letting me know!” Steve barked at the girl, the tone of his voice earning a flinch from the girl. They’ve had arguments, yes, but Steve never raised his voice at her like he was currently doing.

        “You know what? I’m glad I fucking left. I was so fucking happy I didn’t have to see your face as much as I already did at home, Rogers! Fuck you, asshole. You have no idea what I fucking went through before I had to leave my dream job,” the e/c-eyed girl scolded him before bolting out the kitchen and back to the guest room.

       The moment the door slammed behind her, she broke down in tears. Did he really tie her worth to what job she was doing? Did his views of her lessen the day she left S.H.I.E.L.D without warning? Did he really think everything she’d done after her time with S.H.I.E.L.D was irrelevant?

       She struggled to catch her breath as she let the salty tears fall down her cheek with her crumbling relationship with Steve Rogers weighing heavy on her chest as she sobbed.

       Steve stood outside her bedroom door, unable to find his words. He heard every sob wracking through her body. He so desperately wanted to tell her he was sorry and tell her everything was going to be okay. He wanted to whisper sweet nothings into her ear as he finally held her in his arms as he used to.

       Except he couldn’t. Not when he was the reason for her tears. He sat behind her door in regret. He felt how they drifted away yet he never made an effort to fix the bridge between them, only letting it wither and burn away slowly.

       His mind wandered to the night she asked him to stop taking long missions. “It’s for the sake of our relationship,” she’d told him then. But of course, the world needed him, didn’t they?

         The echoes of her words weighed heavy on his heart. She was right. That night changed everything. It was the first night they spent apart, but it was never the last. Not anymore.

       His knees gave out, letting him drop for the floor. He sighed, letting a lone tear run down his cheek knowing he made one of the biggest mistakes of his life.

       After that day, Y/N went on with her usual routine, only inn a more cautious manner especially when it came to her leaving the room to avoid Steve. She left the room less and less as the days went by, only leaving to bring bulks of food into her room to last her days until she made her next trip to the kitchen.

       Well, that had been her routine until she found the kitchen fridge and the pantry empty. She cursed herself out knowing it would be the first time she went grocery shopping since the government announced the lockdown.

       She threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt as she adjusted the mask on her face while reaching for the doorknob, only stopping when she heard the sound of Steve clearing his throat from behind her. She spun around and there he was in all his glory. Y/N didn’t know how it was possible, but he looked worse compared to when he saw her last. The bags under his eyes became more prominent as his cheeks looked sullen as though he hadn’t eaten in a while.

       But his eyes? They were a whole different story. The usually glowing blue orbs, filled with life, were dull and red as though he’d been bawling his eyes out for weeks.

       “What do you want?” she rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed at the man standing in front of her. He was silent for a moment then shifting awkwardly before finally speaking.

       “Where are you going, doll? You could get sick,” he spoke gingerly, his voice soft and holding no negative intent against her as he even flashed her a soft smile as he spoke.

       “Stop acting like you’re actually concerned for my health,” the girl frowned, shaking her head in denial as she was unable to accept seeing this side of her husband then having him taken away from her again. She didn’t want to deal with Steve or his façade.

       “I care about you, Y/N. You’re my wife. Even after everything that’s come between us, I could never stop caring for you,” he sighed approaching her slowly. He awkwardly cupped her cheek in his hands only to frown when she averted eye contact. He could see a lone tear forming in her eye and he frowned, wiping it away with his thumb.

       “I’m going to the grocery,” she deadpanned, pulling herself away from him before walking out the front door and slamming it behind her.

       Steve stood there dumbfounded, his eyes glossing over with tears as his mind replayed the scene of her pulling away from him and walking out the door. He knew he messed up. He knew he broke her.

       He was left alone for the first time in their home to wander around. He just found his way to your room—well, at least what once was the guest room—and he saw the framed picture on the nightstand. It was a picture of them both from their wedding day. He could remember how radiant and happy she looked that day. He would kill to see her like that again.

       A good two hours passed before he heard the sound of the door unlocking. He rushed to the living room to see his wife dragging in the groceries, looking weaker than she did when she left. It seemed as though she was sick.

       She dropped the bags of groceries onto the wooden planks of the floor as she broke out in a fit of heavy coughing. Steve rushed to her side, kneeling beside her.

       “Doll, you’ll be okay. Breathe, please,” Steve begged, holding her close to him. He knew he should’ve been keeping his distance from her considering the circumstances, but he hated seeing her suffer.

       She nodded as she gasped deeply for breath. Steve frowned at the state of struggle she was going through. He was confused. It was impossible for symptoms to be showing this early, right?

       Steve did what he knew the best thing was to do and he contacted Tony Stark. A few grueling seconds later, the billionaire answered the phone.

       “Stark, I think Y/N has the virus,” he spoke shakily into the phone as Y/N was slowly stabilizing her breathing pace.

        “When did she leave the house, Steve? You shouldn’t have let her leave! Not with her condition!” Tony rambled as Y/N’s lab accident struck his mind.

       “She left the house earli—wait what condition?” Steve panicked, only now being struck with the news of his wife’s condition.

       “Her immune system? It’s shit and it’s always been that way since the lab accident. Didn’t she tell you?” Tony questioned in shock, briefly explaining why Y/N shouldn’t have been allowed to leave the house in the first place.

       “She didn’t! What do I do now?” Steve spoke frantically to the phone in fear of losing his dear wife.

       “Take her to her lab. She has a regenerative chamber there and it should be enough to fight off the virus for now,” Tony commanded, confusing Steve.

       “She doesn’t have a lab!” Steve panicked as he already began to pick up his wife’s frail figure, finding somewhere to let her rest.

       “Check the basement! Hurry, please. I don’t want to lose my friend. I’ll be on my way,” Tony begged as Steve rushed to get Y/N into the basement, not even stopping in shock when he saw the state their basement was in. It looked like another S.H.I.E.L.D base just hidden beneath their home.

       Steve rushed her into a room which looked strikingly like her old S.H.I.E.L.D lab as he found the regeneration chamber Tony spoke of. He set her inside and let out a sigh of relief as he watched her breathing normalize as she flashed him a grateful smile.

       “I’m sorry, doll. After all this, we’ll fix everything between us. I can’t lose you,” he whispered, watching Y/N finally relax in the chamber as a breath of fresh air entered her lungs. He swore to himself to make it his personal mission to fix everything between them. He couldn’t lose her in any way.

[demonfox38]

Okay. Made it through the last season of Netflix's "Castlevania" interpretation. Thoughts are below the cut.

I've often thought of this series as the exploitation version of "Castlevania," and hiring Malcom McDowell confirms that.

Although, I find it hilarious that both Malcolm McDowell and Patrick Stewart have ended up voicing the same character. I'm sure there's a "Star Trek Generations" joke to be made in there, but I'm not Mike Stoklasa.

Also, I was cracking up a bit when Varney's plot twist happened. Mostly, because it came off a bit Skeletor-esque in vocal performance.

Also, also—laughing that the final boss went the "Castlevania: Lament of Innocence" route despite barely touching on that game's plot.

Animation had its ups and downs with this season. It seemed like there were some frame issues (not enough inbetweening.) I do appreciate how they incorporated more of Alucard's SOTN animations into his fights, however.

Additionally, some of the fight scenes' pacing seemed to have issues, particularly regarding weapon recovery.

The whole bit with St. Germain was off. Like, he's a weird asshole in "Castlevania: Curse of Darkness", but he's more of a weird asshole there in the same way that casually encountering "Doctor Who"'s Doctor would also be strange. Not a straight up villainous boob. Kinda makes sense thematically to have another character who is willing to do horrible shit for their lost loved one, but the series honestly did not do a good job establishing her. Like, did she even have a voice actor? Or a name? All I'm saying is it was much easier for outsiders to get the Lisa revenge thing Dracula had going.

Also, how dare you joke about not being deaf and then have a villainous monologue, TV show.

Greta's a good girl. Well, outside of being an occasional homewrecker. Point is, she's competent and trying her best to save people in a bad situation, and anyone having issues with her is not to be trusted in the same way that you don't trust people who don't like Rochelle from "Left 4 Dead 2."

Look at me. Do not trust people who do not like Rochelle from "Left 4 Dead 2." Yes, her writing could have been better, but she's still a viable character. Let people Thunder Child their ships on the rocks of your better self. Got me?

Also, y'all really need to embrace more polyamory. Or understand the fact that Alucard's not going to love just one person in his life. Dude lives to be at least 600 in the game's timeline. For a dude who loves humans, constricting him to just one who may live to be 100 at best is cruel.

There are some interesting philosophical dialogues going on here, but I can see where some people may lose their patience for them. Considering one of Castlevania's most popular memes is a philosophy debate, you're just gonna have to suck that up. My personal favorites included the topic of acting versus reacting, as well as having agency in one's story.

Striga's battle theme was cool, but otherwise, the music was forgettable. Yes, that is a sin. Punishable by Death? In this series, maybe!

The gore's still over the top. Which, okay, fine. There's a bit of that in game. It's just generally a bit more reserved with it or uses it in crucial boss fights.

RIP doggie.

The Targoviste plot's a bit of a wash, but it doesn't feel as useless as Trevor and Sypha's previous plot predicament. It's just nothing of a surprise, considering how many times the writing has played the "authority figures are useless" and "dark secret surprise" tropes in this series. Like, Greta being reliable is actually more surprising than anything with this plot.

I cannot emphasize enough how boring I found Carmilla's interpretation and plot arc. You guys could have had a giant, naked lesbian riding a skull and spewing magic at people while her cat-eared girlfriend jumped them for extra damage. But no. Vanilla lady with a scarlet sword for you. So long. Farewell. Auf Wiedersehen. Good night.  

Gotta say, as much of a deviation from his source character as he is, Isaac really turned out well in this series. He's definitely evidence that you don't always need to stick to source material.

His Abel is fucking sick, dude. Way to go, king.

Also, I was expecting more violence from Hector this season. Oh, well. At least he got a teeny bit of a spine.

Look. I'm not an alchemist by any means. I'm just a bit baffled by this season's emphasis of obtaining a Rebis. Like, any time the game series has talked about the Magnum Opus of Alchemy, it's more been in pursuit of making a Philosopher's Stone (or at the very least, a Crimson Stone, as seen in "Castlevania: Lament of Innocence.") Pulling a Rebis out of the aether is…well. Could have been more interesting than it was. I mean, it was a bit nightmarish, but it really didn't do much.

Sypha's really never getting back to her family, is she?

Love the idea that the cross subweapon is basically a fancy chakram.

GERGOTH. BUDDY. FRIENDO.

Really appreciating the monster variety in these last two seasons. I mean, that's a big selling point of the "Castlevania" games. Not so much vampires standing around and bickering in dick-waving contests.

Breaking out of the bullet points to hit on the big subject of this season—that is, the ending being surprisingly happy.

There's been a lot of shit that's happened over the last few years. Obviously, a pandemic. Konami's run by pricks. Then, there's the situation with the allegations of sexual coercion with Warren Ellis. Additionally, the terrible ending of "Game of Thrones" likely impacted how this season was developed, considering it seemed to be chasing its progression in construction. (I mean, look at Carmilla and Daenerys.) I don't know how many people were happy with the last season of "Castlevania," but from my POV, it double-tapped itself in the foot with the way it pushed simultaneous sex and violence in its last two episodes. My point is, there was little taste for additional darkness, considering everything that has been happening. Society is drained.

A happy ending was what people really wanted. And man, did this pull through, in that regard. But, there's a conversation to be had in if this swerved too far or if it violates some artistic integrity to give people what they want. So, let's have it.

Look. Man. Have you seen a "Castlevania" ending? When you do it right, it's crumbled castles and rainbow-colored skies. If you do it really right, it results in a pretty girl holding the main character's hand. There is happiness in these games. Hope. Forgiveness and redemption. If this is supposed to be any bit an accurate interpretation of these games, it absolutely should end in such a joyful fashion. (Okay, maybe giving Dracula and Lisa a second honeymoon at the end was a bit much, but I get where people would want that.)

Did some items need to be addressed more? Absolutely. Alucard staking people and Hector getting sexually coerced into servitude are some pretty big topics to just wave away. (Oh, shit. That second part is even worse now with what Ellis was allegedly doing, isn't it?) I suppose I'm just glad the series didn't go full Sephiroth with Alucard. And at least Hector finally took some stand in his situation, even if it wasn't the bombastic, hateful revenge I'm used to seeing from this character in other stories.

I think the creators of this series were trying to save this show from the fate of "Game of Thrones." (To some extent, perhaps the "Voltron" re-interpretation as well.) There's so much media out there anymore that if a production team doesn't nail the ending, their creation gets wiped out of the collective consciousness. To that extent, I think the creators were successful in saving their series. Did it do damage to itself in yanking out of its construction and themes? A bit. But, in doing so, it pivoted back to being more like a proper "Castlevania" product. (And of course, by proper, I mean anything ignoring "Lords of Shadows." God, people need to stop chasing other products when developing "Castlevania" stuff and just let the series be as it is.)

I am very curious as to how much of this season was part of an original draft and how much was revised in backlash to everything that has happened. It doesn't seem like Trevor was intended to survive, but to some extent, Sypha had to. (I mean, until she has a kid, anyway. See "Lords of Shadows" series for dickery regarding that.) I'm also wondering if there was more intended for the Carmilla subplot, as much as the series was banging on about her invading locations. I'm not even sure St. Germain was intended to be a villain all along. Getting into a bitchfight with Death? Sure. Doing what he did here? That's a weird arc, dude.

If you come away from my POV with anything, it should be this: GO PLAY THE GAMES.

Do it. Do it, you ghouls. Go to the Steam store and download the "Castlevania Anniversary Collection." Boot up your PS3 or 4 or 18 or whatever and get "Symphony of the Night." Throttle Nintendo's stores until "Aria of Sorrow" or "Dawn of Sorrow" or "Harmony of Dissonance" or whatever rattles out of their moldy pockets. Find a ROM. Find an ISO. Just play a game. Especially, one of the ones made before 2010.

"Castlevania" as a game series isn't about hordes of vampires dick-waving at each other or edgy swearing or being grim and dark. Some of that stuff's there, sure. But, at its core, it's what game developers created when they looked at Universal Monster Movie creations and went "That's cool. Let's fight that!" It's a series about pushing technology in MMC chips to make rich, vibrant music. It's about flourishing artwork and layers of sprites dripping particles and gore onto players. It's sober and goofy and very pro curry.

The thing is, "Castlevania" players have their own unique connection to the series. We're the weirdos you see clapping their hands when a mutilated dinosaur shows up on screen. It's not because the monster alone is cool. It's that we've fought and struggled and bodied that thing through several floors like a goddamn "X-Men: Children of the Atom" stage. It's kicked our asses. We've kicked its ass. We've got a connection to it that you just don't get from passively watching it barf lasers through a computer monitor or TV screen. Like, you know how people go, "Well, the movie wasn't as good as the book?" It's obnoxious, sure. But, those who read the source materials have to go to the effort of constructing their own sets and people to understand what's happening. In a similar fashion, game players build up their own skill set to reach that next rung.

Maybe you don't always get a payout when you invest your resources into something. But, there is a sense of accomplishment, seeing what you can do.

There's a reason this series got an adaptation. I mean, outside of Konami's head executives wanting easy money. "Castlevania" is a fantastic video game series. Has it got a few problems? Oh yeah. Especially after outsourcing and pachislot machines became all the rage. But, there's a reason Simon and Richter Belmont are playable in "Super Smash Bros. Ultimate." There's a reason I spent a significant amount of time playing these games and writing or drawing fanworks for it. These games are wonderful. Beautiful. Difficult, but inspiring. Reasons I will still bang on about them decades years down the road.

When I get exasperated by layers of angst and edge lord content this Netflix series generated, I want you to know why. The roots of this show are good games held captive under poor management. Some people on staff know this. I wish they had more scenario and writing control. But mostly, I don't want to shit on them or their work. (Well, other than perhaps the obvious target.) I just want you to see what I love in these games.

And also to watch Crashervania. Because that's legit.

[blouisparadise]

Here are some great bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of May. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Louis Punishments | Mature | 1759 words

Just a bunch of punishments Harry has given to Louis.

2) Hoping To Discover A Certain Kind Of Lover  | Explicit | 2353 words

He knew the basic idea of what was supposed to happen. It was the entire point of the film Zayn was working on. To match up unmated alpha and omega strangers and to film them as they kissed for the first time. The two of them shuffled awkwardly back and forth, unsure of what to do.

Enough was enough. “I’m gonna just go for it, yeah?” Harry suggested, and Louis nodded quickly, already leaning closer to him.

Everything was hesitant at first. Tender lips met, and all of it was soft and new, neither of them wanting to overstep. A little zing of anticipation and something unfamiliar shot down Harry’s spine as he swallowed the tiny sound of surprise Louis made. Neither alpha nor omega were pushing, but that was the point of all of this, wasn’t it? To see what happened when people let go and let themselves be? Harry figured he would try. For the sake of the experiment, of course.

Gently, so, so gently, Harry slid his hand up the side of Louis’s throat, cupping his jaw to hold him as close as he could. Their lips finally, finally, finally parted, and Harry could taste the hint of tea and honey lingering on Louis’s tongue. Suddenly and all at once, he couldn’t get enough.

3) Irresistible | Mature | 2380 words

Louis goes into his first heat at school and no one is able to resist him. Harry - who's been in love with him since forever - fucks and bonds him in the toilets.

4) Signed, No Name | Mature | 4647 words

Harry doesn’t know Blue, he just knows that he leaves random notes in the corners of the books he checks out, and he’s head over heels for him.

5) It Could've Been Worse | Not Rated | 4949 words

The one where a pandemic happens, harry is obssessed and louis hates apps made for 15 years old.

6) Take Me To The Stars | Explicit | 5840 words

Staring at his darling daughter, in the middle of the pasta aisle, Louis found himself on the edge of a neurotic breakdown.

"It’s your birthday tomorrow! And your papa better not do anything to muck it up! Because your dada worked very hard to organise it! And all of your aunties and grannies and granddads and friends will be there!” Louis continued in a sweet sing-song voice that seemed to get increasingly frantic as he continued. “And if your papa is in rut, then what? What’ll we do, honey girl? Your dada will be too busy! And your papa will be too horn-”

“Louis,” Harry interrupted, touching Louis’ arm. “I’ll be okay. It’s probably not even my rut. I can appreciate you… all of you… even when I’m not in rut.”

Louis looked at him skeptically, imagining the shitshow that would be Harry in rut, surrounded by family and friends, at their child’s first birthday party. “I hope you’re right, H.”

7) Kiss Like Fire | Explicit | 9093 words

Harry watches as his uncle's new omega walks around the backyard, serving canapés and drinks to all of the family members gathered. Harry is surrounded by his cousins, all sat together, too young for the adults but too old for the kids and teens. He lifts his beer to his lips and takes a sip when the omega crouches down by one of Harry's younger cousins and hands her a small cracker, sending her off with a sweet smile.

He watches as his uncle comes out of the house, sliding the patio door shut behind him and quickly making his way over to his omega. The omega looks up at him when he wraps an arm around his waist. His pretty lips move with soft-spoken words. Harry has to fight to keep his alpha in check when his dirty old uncle's hand dips down, grabbing at the omega's ass and making him jump.

"Dude," one of his cousins says, "Uncle Darron's new omega is such a milf."

8) Waking Up Alone | Mature | 10060 words

"Nothing makes you hurt like hurting who you love"

Love shouldn't hurt, loving somebody with everything you have shouldn't make you feel like you're dying. Louis feels like he’s drowning. He should have known where this was going from the start, he should have been prepared. Now he’s waking up in an empty bed, some days he doesn’t want to even wake up again. There's a hole in his heart; it's in the shape of Harry. Nothing he does can fill it. Drugs, alcohol, pouring out his heart into songs that Harry probably won't ever hear. When Louis is with him, he feels like he’s in heaven. Being alone, that's what he feels he deserves, at least Harry can be happier without him.

Maybe if they met at a different time, under different circumstances, he could have saved them. Louis had to do what was best for Harry, but it kills him a little everyday. Louis sees his smile everyday, but he knows it's no longer for him. Someone else makes Harry happier, but Louis wanted it to be him. They could have had forever. Louis would have given Harry everything.

"Forget what I said, it's not what I meant" Harry had tried to say, but Louis knew that wasn't the truth. After everything they’ve been through, Louis still loves him.

9) To The Beat Of My Own Drum | Explicit | 10285 words

A collection of drabbles.

10) Alone Too Long | Explicit | 10371 words

By the time The Temptress finally reached bay, the Captain only had one thing on his mind, and that one thing was Louis Darling.

11) Straight Boy | Explicit | 12251 words

Young, brunette and handsome, Louis attracts unwanted attention in prison. When his cellmate offers him protection, Louis accepts the offer, even though he doesn’t trust the guy. Little does he know how much it will change his life.

When he’s released from prison, Louis finds himself needing and wanting things he shouldn’t want. Louis is straight. He is. He has a girlfriend. What happened in prison stayed in prison—or so Louis tells himself.

Until he meets his former cellmate again. Harry. The guy he hates and craves.

12) Beautiful Crime | Not Rated | 13282 words

Note: This fic contins no explicit smut but since it’s a/b/o we’ve decided to include it in this monthly roundup. 

Louis is keen to defeat the one and only Alpha Harry Styles who has a notorious reputation in the entire country for his ruthlessness but a turn of events brings them on crossroads which deviate from their havens of war.

13) Anticipation | Explicit | 14156 words

Louis' a stripper. Harry's the new club owner. Louis decides he wants to get in his new boss' pants fairly quickly, but it might take more work than he thought to do that.

14) Strong Enough | Explicit | 20787 words

“So…” Liam starts, and Louis instantly knows where this is going. He’s actually glad it’s Liam that's dragging the subject out from the shadows and into the light. Louis turns to face him, mirroring his position on the couch and nods, ready for him to continue. Liam takes a deep breath. “Have you spoken to Harry recently?”

Five years after Vertigo goes on hiatus, the band comes back together for a benefit concert. Can Louis and Harry work through their complicated past, or are some wounds too deep to be healed?

15) Alpha and Omega | Not Rated | 22270 words

Note: There is no smut where someone bottoms in this fic, but it contains omega Louis, so we’ve included it in this monthly roundup. 

Louis finds a new sense of self when the son of the werewolf leader, Harry Styles, comes to town to quell unrest in the Chicago pack and inspires a power in Louis that he never felt before.

Not my own work but rather a reimagination of the book Alpha and Omega with Harry and Louis.

16) Amazing Grace | Mature | 24290 words

Harry’s a dedicated pastor who's happily married, Louis is the troubled youth that stumbles into his life.

17) A Trail Of Honey Through It All | Explicit | 27083 words

The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.

18) Just a Bit Twisted | Explicit | 30548 words

Professor Harry Styles is hated and feared by all of his students. Strict, reserved and ruthless, he doesn’t tolerate mistakes and has little patience for his students.

Louis Tomlinson is a twenty-year-old struggling to provide for his younger sisters after the death of their parents. On the verge of losing his scholarship, Louis becomes desperate enough to go to Professor Styles.

Everyone says Styles doesn’t have a heart. Everyone says he’s a ruthless bastard. Louis finds out that everyone is right.

He strikes a deal with Styles, but unexpectedly, the deal turns into something so much more.

Something all-consuming and addictive.

Something neither of them wants.

19) Like It's A Game | Explicit | 32223 words

There is little harry hates more than truth or dare.

20) We'll Be the Fine Line | Not Rated | 32474 words

“…Hey, Harry. It’s Louis…… um, yeah. Listened to the album tonight. It’s real good mate. Um, yeah, just real, impressed. I was kinda putting it off, ya’know, didn’t know if I wanted to listen to it. Saw you went on James and, uh, Saturday Night Live. Couldn’t watch you, have a hard time watching you on these things……. Anyway, mate, just thought I would drop a line. Don’t need to call me back. Alright.”

Louis listens to Fine Line, and, drunk, he leaves a voicemail for Harry after months of not speaking. This reminds Harry of a time before everything fell apart, slowly, painfully, a time when the two of them were still in love. And he desperately wants to go back.

21) The Space Between | Explicit | 33074 words

Living in East Verona was a privilege. One Prince Harry only found out when he decided to cross the borders into The Zone looking for entertainment, a temptation, a distraction, anything that would allow him to escape his boring, mundane life of luxury.

But what he found was something he never could have expected - poverty, destruction, chaos, but most importantly, a blue-eyed boy.

Together, they embark on a journey plagued with hazards and risks and twists and turns.

Can these two star-crossed souls fight for their freedom and keep each other safe at the same time?

22) Yes, Daddy, I Will | Not Rated | 33510 words

Where Harry is a dom and Louis is his cute little sub.

23) Last Blues For Bloody Knuckles | Explicit | 34241 words

Styles was a name everyone knew. It had evolved into something of a fairy tale, a far away problem that normal people didn’t have to deal with. Louis never thought he’d find himself falling in love with him. When he finds himself pregnant with Harry’s child, he knows he has to leave the life, and Harry, behind. For her sake.

He never expected Harry to show back up on his doorstep five years later.

24) Before We Knew | Explicit | 39593 words

Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

25) Hit Me With Your Sweet Love | Explicit | 39690 words

Powerful people only end up with powerful people. The rest are just playthings in their lives. Louis Tomlinson was many things, but he wasn’t anybody’s plaything.

26) Stole My Heart | Mature | 51343 words

Louis doesn't want much. A warm bed, and people who care about him.

Harry has everything he needs, despite his mother insisting he needs a mate. Money, status, and any omega he wants, why lock his heart down.

Until Louis comes along, and steals it.

27) No Going Back | Explicit | 56102 words

Sales reps Harry and Louis are bored with their jobs and their lives. After meeting at a conference in Cardiff they hook up, have a few too many drinks, and jokingly apply to become remote lighthouse keepers. Six months, just the two of them, looking after the southernmost lighthouse off the bottom of Australia. It’s not like their applications will be accepted. Right?

This is the story of how one choice - a left instead of a right, a go instead of a stop, a yes instead of a no - can change the future forever and that sometimes, taking that leap of faith, is worth the risk.

28) Royal Desires | Mature | 66207 words

When Prince Louis falls into an early heat, his new personal guard Harry Styles is brought in as his heat partner for the time being until Louis finds a suitable royal prince to bond and take the throne with. The only problem is that Harry is everything Louis wants but can't have. Freedom, tattoos, individuality...and quite possibly love.

29) How To Break A Heartbreaker's Heart? | Teen & Up | 67447 words

Harry is straight.

Louis is gay.

Harry happens to be homophobic.

Louis has a dark past.

Harry had a dark childhood.

Will Louis and Harry unite and defy their past? Or will homophobia win for the umpteenth time?

30) Lavender Dreams | Not Rated | 77888 words

Louis is an outgoing person that goes to school for educational psychology and Harry is a biology major who happen to run into each other... a lot.

31) Be My Omega | Mature | 138372 words

It all started when the alpha laid eyes on the short curvy omega and he knew at that moment that his life would never be the same, in a good way of course.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[yuta-nakamots]

Candle Light - l.hc ; Part 2 of 2 (End)

Pairing - College!Haechan x Ghost!Reader

Genre - Fluff but mostly angst at the end

Warnings - Character death, supernatural activity (you are literally a ghost)

Summary - As the resident ghost that haunts your old apartment, you take pride in scaring away those who dare move in, not wanting them to ruin your memories. Though your mission changes after a group of boys arrive. These are the four boys you allow into your space and your heart. One of them is the candle that supports you, and you are the fire that burns atop it, his beacon of light.

Word Count - 6.2k

A/N - as always, credit goes to @soleilhyuck​ for coming up with the idea for this fic. thank you for patiently waiting and giving lots of love to this series and please look forward to frat boy!yuta next month as well <3

Tag List - @sunflowerhae @eunsangelical @soleilhyuck @neoyoungho @carefreebubble @sly-merlin @jisungismymom @jimelonji @lyraaacle @peachy-yabbay @yomanitsgonnabehee​

January 2020

News about the new virus was quickly spreading, as was the disease itself, unironically. You sat next to Renjun as he watched the news on TV and played a game on his phone while Jeno was lying on the floor in front of the coffee table as he typed out an essay on his laptop.

You watched as the newscaster stood in front of a graph showing the number of cases spiking up as he said “all local colleges will be migrating to an online schooling system for the second half of this year” to which Jeno let out a loud groan at.

“How the fuck am I supposed to do all my labs then?” he muttered under his breath, angrily hitting the carpeted floor. You laughed at his childish action, Jeno’s head whipping around as he looked in your general direction with his pupils shaking as he tried to find a face to match the voice he had just heard.

“Hey y/n, I think Jeno can hear you,” Renjun said nonchalantly as he continued watching the news station on TV, “okay, Jeno wait I think you should pay attention to the screen.”

He informed the other boy just in time as the anchor said “certain schools have disclosed that some students may still be required to return to campus for activities such as labs or other assessment events.”

Jeno rolled onto his back, letting out another groan that was almost actually a growl. “I don’t know which is worse. Having to go to school during a pandemic, or having to learn from my computer 24/7.”

February 2020

As more plans for the second semester were announced, Jeno did end up having to still visit the campus for his labs so he was occasionally out along with Jaemin who was volunteering at a hospital nearby, the same one your body was taken to after the incident, not that you’d ever tell them that though.

Jaemin had convinced Renjun to come along saying “we need extra help and it’s not like you’re doing anything anyways now that class is online” as he quite literally dragged Renjun out the front door.

This left you with Haechan, who was only able to see you in certain instances because he was still not totally sure if you really existed or not. He still used the scented candles in his room, much to your distaste, since you found yourself having to put out the flame nearly every night due to his forgetfulness.

He’d spend almost every waking moment on his computer playing Overwatch and whatever other games he was into, only stopping when we had to attend his mandatory online lectures. Even then, he’d still have the game up on his screen, barely even caring about the lecture.

Eventually, this irritated you enough, having been quite a good student yourself, to the point where you just lost it when you saw him pull up his school account and you peered over his shoulder and realizing how bad his grades really were.

“You shouldn’t do that, you know.” You spoke to him, hovering behind him as you read through the contents of his student profile.

Haechan froze for a second, surprised by your voice though he didn’t make an effort to turn around. “Well, you shouldn’t just scare people like that.” He retorted at you.

“Then don’t take your college life for granted,” you remark, not missing the high amount of absences he had even though all his courses were online, “I would’ve loved to have completed mine, but that just didn’t seem to be in my life plan now, was it?” You asked rhetorically, your voice laced with sarcasm to match his.

“What are you gonna do about it, huh?” He spat out at you. “You can’t force me to study.”

You rolled your eyes at him even if he couldn’t see you as you scoffed, “yes I can.” Quite literally, you moved through his desk and unplugged his computer from its power socket. A satisfactory grin fell upon your face as you heard his monitor die out and you look at him. His mouth was slightly agape as he finally saw you up close, your previously translucent figure becoming clearer and clearer to him with every second that passed.

From then on, Haechan consciously made an effort to cut back on his gaming and dedicate more time to his schoolwork, as he hated not knowing when you’d decide to pop into his room again and he didn’t want to risk more damage to his precious computer.

Sometimes he’d spend so much time studying that he’d even fall asleep at his desk, to which you could only sigh at as you fanned out the flames of his stupid scented candles that he continued to use before grabbing his blanket from his bed and placing it atop his shoulders.

March 2020

You found that you actually quite enjoyed spending time with Haechan as he was more entertaining and witty than Renjun. Though on a particularly slow afternoon, you watched Haechan as he went about making a sandwich in the kitchen, making yourself known to him by a light tug on his shirt before he asked “so why exactly do you haunt this apartment?”

You were leaning against the kitchen island behind him, not even having bothered to materialize in your semi-human form since you let him pick and choose when he wanted to see you or not. “If I’m being honest, I really don’t know. All I’m sure about is that this unit is my unit. It always has been and it always will be.”

“Well, what are your ties to this place? What does it mean to you?” He pressed on as he grabbed a slice of bologna from the refrigerator.

After pausing for a second as you recall your past, you told him “this is where I grew up, my parents moved here when I started elementary school and I’ve lived here for almost twenty years until I died and ever since then, I’ve just been here.”

“I’m sorry,” he interjected, looking at you and making eye contact to let you know he was being sincere, “I really am. You had so much to live for, your whole life ahead of you.” He shook his head in pity as he unwrapped a piece of cheese.

“Things don’t always go according to your plan, as you can see,” you stated before continuing on with your story, “anyways, my family moved out shortly after my incident because my sister would always cry whenever she had to pass the spot I was last alive at and eventually my parents couldn’t take it anymore so they just up and left.”

Haechan was unscrewing the lid of the jar of mayonnaise when he asked “why didn’t you stop them? Or did you try but they just weren’t able to see you?”

“They couldn’t see or hear me. I tried calling out to them, telling them I was still here, I was still alive, but nothing worked...and so they left me behind.” Your voice trailing off at the end as you felt a familiar pain in your chest at the memory of your family.

Haechan hummed in acknowledgment, spreading pieces of lettuce over the top of his sandwich, going silent before speaking again. “I think you need closure. Do you know where your family went to? I’m pretty sure we could--”

“No, I’d rather not talk to them.” You interrupted, not wanting to witness your family in pain again after having to watch them mourn your death in this very apartment. To them, you were a thing of the past and you wished to stay that way.

“You can’t just be cursed to wander around this unit for the rest of your life, or lack thereof. That’s a bit…” he paused as he wracked his brain for a word, turning up blank, “sad, for lack of a better word.”

You watched as he placed a slice of bread on top and pressed it down before biting into his creation. “It’s not like it was my choice in the first place, you know,” you strongly articulated, “if you really wanted to help me then you’d leave this place and let me wander in peace now that you know my story.”

“We both know damn well that you’re not gonna be happy if we leave you on your own.” And the most surprising part of his statement was that he was right.

April 2020

After your previous conversation with Haechan, the two of you started avoiding each other and you ended up spending more time with Jeno when he eventually came around to being able to see you. He was more of an easygoing presence and he didn’t mind it when you stayed in his room, he just asked that you “don’t mess with my stuff like when you stacked all my books up and turned my clothes inside out” the memory of it still makes you laugh to yourself.

You felt bad for Jeno, seeing him come home already exhausted from his labs and lectures, letting out a loud sigh whenever he entered through the front door as he was finally able to take off his face mask and allow himself to take a deep breath of air.

You’d often find him dozing off at his desk, his face resting either on his arm or on whatever page he had been going over. Sometimes, if you knew the assignment was important or if the deadline was near, you’d try to keep him awake by doing this like clicking his book or dropping a book on the floor. But if he was really knocked out, all you could do was just plug in his electronics to let them charge before bookmarking his page and clearing his desk for him.

On the night of his 20th birthday, the boys decided to have their own mini-party, which you excused yourself from. You didn’t want to get in the way of their celebration since you didn’t know for sure where you stood with Haechan and that’s on top of the fact that Jaemin still didn’t believe in your existence.

You stayed in Jeno’s room, softly plucking at the strings of his guitar which he had kindly left out for you. He had previously voiced his worries about you getting bored from always staying in the unit, which you found quite cute of him.

He came back to his room around midnight and you watched as he drunkenly made his way to the bathroom, stumbling in and nearly tripping over his own feet. You heard him throwing up into the toilet but you stayed put, knowing that you wouldn’t be of much help anyway. You recognized the sound of Haechan’s voice as he entered from his own side and tried to clean Jeno up.

Moments later, Haechan came into the room carrying a near unconscious Jeno to the bed you were currently sitting on. All Haechan had to do was merely glance at you before you were already materializing in human form to put Jeno’s guitar back on its stand and help Haechan get the birthday boy into bed.

Once Jeno was tucked in and snoring, you looked up at Haechan and he nodded his head in the direction of his room, inviting you to come over with him, which you did without much hesitation. You sat on the edge of his bed as he started up his computer as he asked you “don’t you ever get tired of just staying in the apartment all the time?”

You watched as he typed in his login information as you responded, “kind of, I guess. It’s all I know so it’s not like I really have anywhere else to go.”

“Have you ever tried leaving the building, or this unit at all?” He inquired while pulling up a page on google.

You thought for a moment before answering him. “No, I’ve never really wanted to leave because I’m comfortable here.”

Haechan simply nodded and stated “fair enough” as he switched tabs before turning to you. “I found this article the other day and I think this is relevant to you.” He informed, beckoning you over to him. You moved closer and read it from over his shoulder.

Certain spirits roam the earth as ghosts due to their souls holding onto the regret they had while they were still living. It is common for these types of ghosts to stay in a place that they have special emotional ties to. They often try to scare away people who enter their sacred place as they are trying to preserve it as it is in their memory, resisting change. There have been successful cases of exorcism for these types of ghosts, though oftentimes, it serves to only anger them further, which is why exorcism is not recommended. Edit: It has been found that the spirits often pass on to the true afterlife once they let go of the regrets they are holding and free themselves from the baggage that is tying them to their sacred place.

“Haechan, I already told you, I’m not leaving.”

“But think about it, you can’t just continue existing with one foot in the afterlife, one foot in the during-life,” causing you to laugh at his wording, “aren’t there other dead people you’d like to meet? You know, like Michael Jackson or something?”

“Of course, but how would you know if there really is an afterlife where I could meet them?”

“I don’t, but aren’t you getting tired of just watching people come and go? Aren’t you curious about the existence of an afterlife? You’ve been here for what, two years?”

“Three years.” You corrected, though he was correct about your boredom and curiosity even if it really was just in the slightest form.

You weren’t looking forward to when the boys moved out as it meant you’d be left on your own again. You had grown used to the four of them since you had at least one of them home at nearly all times. You didn’t want them to leave and you had even though about asking them to stay, but you knew it would be unfair to them as they had previously talked about their future educational plans.

Renjun already was in the process of transferring to a school or arts to further hone his skills as he was nearing the completion of his traditional core credits. Jeno wanted to study abroad and experience different cultures while Jaemin simply would follow along, having promised both of their parents that he would look out for Jeno and make sure he didn’t overwork himself though oftentimes it was the other way around.

As finals came around again, you witnessed the boys and their ways of dealing with the stress of their exams. Renjun simply painted aggressively while Jeno started stretching and working out more often and Jaemin, who still wasn’t able to hear or see you, resorted to cooking. You couldn’t believe Haechan broke out those godforsaken candles yet again, even after you had voiced your hatred for them, having to put out their flames and clean up the dripping wax as to not cause a fire hazard.

One day, Jaemin was finally able to see a faint outline of your silhouette when you managed to catch the knife he had accidentally pushed off the counter while preparing dinner for the guys. He really didn’t believe them when they spoke of your existence, he simply thought it was some kind of odd prank they were all in on, but when he saw his knife floating mere centimeters above his foot, he realized they weren’t lying at all.

Ever since then, you’ve enjoyed hanging around with all four of the boys. They each introduced you to their hobbies and did their best at including you in as many activities as possible. Renjun was overjoyed when he saw you lift a brush from his case and when you asked if you could join him. He was painting a simple sunset and was more than happy to have your company. Renju let you paint any way you wished, only helping here and there to blend in your strokes and fix some of the color gradients.

After it dried, you stood back as he hung the canvas up in the living room with a broad smile on his face. He turned around and you watched as his expression morphed into one of confusion when he didn’t see you behind him and he called out your name. You felt a sense of anxiety creep up on you, reminiscent of the feeling of when your own family were not about to see you.

You knew Renjun had it easiest when it came to seeing and hearing you so why was he having a hard time now? “Oh, there you are.” He said, when you came into his view again, seemingly lightheartedly but it was hard for both of you to feel at ease after what just occurred.

It happened again when you were with Jeno as he was teaching you how to play a few chords on his guitar, something you had always wanted to do in your active lifetime. The two of you had been going at it for about an hour now and things were going pretty smoothly aside from Jeno having to help press the strings down when your own fingers weren’t enough.

You were able to learn a few simple chords separately but right before you were able to string them all together, the guitar suddenly fell through your hold into Jeno’s hands that were helping you apply pressure to the strings. He let out a noise of surprise as he too could no longer see your form.

He blinked rapidly, thinking it was his own eyes playing tricks on him until you saw him relax as both of you witnessed your own body flicker back into existence. This time, there was definitely no denying what just happened.

Later that night you went to Haechan and told him both accounts of what was going on and you broke down in tears, telling him how you didn’t want to leave them just yet. He rubbed your back as you clung on to his shirt, your tears would’ve been soaking it if you weren’t a ghost.

As much as you wanted to stay in his embrace, he told you that he had to study for an upcoming final so you instead settled for lying on his bed and staring up at the ceiling as you let your mind wander through all the what-ifs going through your head.

You’re not sure how much time passed before Haechan finally climbed into his bed, throwing an arm over your waist. No sooner than before he lifted his head to speak to you, his arm dropped through your body and fell onto his bed. The shock was evident on his face as he watched you fade out from his view.

Haechan frantically reached out, trying to grasp onto something, anything to tell him that you were still there as he called out your name. You did the same to him, but your cries fell on deaf ears until one of your hands managed to grab ahold of his and he found your eyes, the fear in his mirroring your own.

You laid with Haechan as he slept that night, scared that you’d cease to exist if he weren’t by your side to validate your presence every so often.

May 2, 2020

One night, as all of you were in the living room watching a show on Netflix, as per Renjun’s recommendation, you mentioned these repeated occurrences to them causing a thick silence to fall over everyone as they processed what this possibly meant for you.

Again, you sought out Haechan’s comfort that night and stayed by his side as he slept because being with him made you feel the slightest bit more real, even when his arm dropped from your waist again.

Now that finals week was over, the boys were home more often, though Jaemin still continued to work and volunteer at the hospital with Renjun, leaving you with Jeno and Haechan. Not much changed as you still continued to stick to Haechan like glue.

May 14, 2020

About two weeks after you had first brought up the topic of your frequency disappearances, you were lying next to Haechan in his bed as you both watched videos on his phone. He abruptly turned it off and turned to face you. “Have you ever been in a relationship before?”

You shook your head, “no, I was always too bust for one.”

“Did you want to be in one? Do you want to be in one?” You froze as you looked at him, not sure if he meant what you’re thinking he means. “On a scale from one to ten, how mad would you be right now if I told you I might have feelings for you?”

You thought for a moment before responding. “Depends on if you’re being serious or not.”

“I’m dead serious. Okay, maybe not dead, but you know what I mean.” He said, poking fun at his word choice.

“Do you really like me?” You asked, unsure if you were thinking clearly.

“Yes,” he paused, “but only if you like me back.”

“Is this just a spur of the moment thing or have you actually had feelings for me before this?” You could feel your cheeks heating up and you were suddenly grateful that he couldn’t see you as if you were a normal human.

“For a while now.” He stated, shrugging his shoulders as if it were nothing.

Your eyes grew wide in shock. “I...Haechan, as much as I’m flattered, we both know it’s not going to work out,” your voice getting caught in your throat, “you’re human, you’re still alive. There’s someone out there for you--”

“Okay and?”

“There’s someone who you can hold, someone you can kiss and make love to, someone you can have a family with--”

“And what if that someone is you?” He interrupted again. “What if you’re the someone I want to hold, to kiss, to spend time with?”

“Haechan...I don’t know…” Your voice coming out as more of a whisper.

His eyes searched yours as he spoke. “Just let me kiss you...please.”

You let out a small “okay” as your eyes fluttered shut and you felt his lips meet yours. He showed you the warmth you didn’t know you could even feel as you allowed yourself to melt into his kiss. Had it not been for your body disintegrating again and causing Haechan to fall forward, you probably would’ve stayed kissing him until he was begging for air.

“I guess that’s the universe telling me to give you a break for a bit.” He chuckled while he grabbed his phone and unpaused the video he was playing earlier as he waited for you to appear again. You didn’t have to look at him to know there was a smile plastered on his face as you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his chest the very second you could.

If you were considered to be clingy with Haechan, now you were practically inseparable.

May 17, 2020

It was a rare occurrence for all four of them to be home together during the day so Jaemin took it as an opportunity to gather everyone for lunch. He didn’t even knock as he opened the door to Haechan’s room, sticking his head in to say “lunch is ready. I made kimchi stew. Oh, hey y/n, haven’t seen you in a while.”

You whined in embarrassment due to the fact that you were currently seated in Haechan’s lap as he practically held you like a baby, cooing at you and littering kisses across your face.

Once Jaemin was gone, Haechan pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed. You know that?” He said, ruffling your hair out of affection.

May 19, 2020

You watch with great interest as Haechan lugs a box into his bedroom and cuts it open, revealing an electronic keyboard. He had told you previously that he wanted to get back into playing piano, having played it when he was younger. You didn’t think he was actually serious enough about it to buy a whole keyboard which, from the looks of it, seemed pretty expensive.

You sat in his gaming chair as you watched him assemble the stand, handing him scissors when he asked and holding things in place when his own two hands weren’t enough. You didn’t trust yourself to do much else in case you randomly disappeared again. Your lips curved upwards as he plugged the keyboard into the socket on the wall and played a few chords, his own smile matching yours.

May 20, 2020

Sighing, you floating your way into Haechan’s room as you notice his sleeping figure hunched over his desk, a little string of drool landing on the lined paper he was writing on. Given that school was already over, you figured it was song lyrics that he was writing.

Haechan, along with getting back into playing piano, had also picked up song composition and lyric writing as well though he refused to show you any of the lyrics he wrote and claimed he’d be embarrassed if you saw them to which you rolled your eyes at. Haechan? Embarrassed? Now that was a rarity given that he was one of the most confident people you’ve ever met, not even bothering to cover himself up the few times you accidentally came in while he was changing his clothes.

But as confident as he was, he had yet to channel that into his lyric writing as he kept falling asleep after hours of trying to get them perfect. You fan out the candle he had been using and run your finger across his lip, gathering his drool, in order to prevent his from further wetting his paper.

You tried to slowly pull the paper out from under his head, doing your best to not wake him up, though your efforts were in vain as his eyes shot open the second you tugged a little too hard. It took Haechan only a second or two to figure out what you were doing before he snatched the paper from you while whining “I told you not to read them” as he puts it in a folder filled with other papers which you assume are also lyrics.

“I was only moving it so you wouldn’t drool on it like a baby.” You scoffed at him.

Haechan imitated your scoff back at you, “don’t lie,” he quipped, “I know you were going to read it as soon as you got your hands on it.”

“You know, you better quit it or else you’re sleeping alone tonight.” You threatened, knowing that your boyfriend of sorts has gotten used to your presence in his bed while he slept.

“No!” He exclaimed, his eyes growing wide in panic before he dove for his bed and gave you puppy eyes, begging you not to leave him.

May 25, 2020

At this point, your disappearances had become more frequent and lasted for longer durations, leaving the boys constantly guessing as to where you were. You could barely muster up the force to show yourself in your human form and physically move objects so you were glad when you realized they could all see you in your regular blue-tinted ghost state.

You considered yourself lucky when they told you they could still feel the gusts of wind you created while moving around, even when you became invisible. It may look stupid to you when you were rapidly moving your arms back in forth to let them know where you are, but it’s not like you cared when you knew they couldn’t see you anyways.

On this day, you were watching a show on TV with Renjun, though he could only vaguely sense your presence. When you heard the sink in the kitchen turn on, you left your seat and floated through the wall to see if it was Jaemin cooking again. Much to your surprise, it was Haechan who was actually doing the dishes for once.

You moved around behind him, alerting him of your presence. “Hey babe, came to do the dishes with me?” You rolled your eyes and rapidly fanned his neck, something you knew he hated because he was ticklish in that area. “Okay, okay, I get it.” He giggled while scrunching his neck.

“Is y/n with you in the kitchen?” Renjun called out from the living room. Haechan shouted back a short ‘yes’ to which you heard Renjun respond back with a slight laugh in his voice, “I thought she was still with me so I was talking about the show but I guess I was just talking to myself this whole time.”

May 29, 2020

No matter how much energy you concentrated, you just couldn’t seem to show yourself in your human form at all. You weren’t completely invisible to the boys yet, just fading in and out of your normal ghost forme every so often, though if you really tried hard  enough, you could force yourself to become visible again, even if it were only for a few seconds. You saved your energy for more important moments like when Haechan shot up from his place next to you in bed, sweating from the nightmare he was having.

For the past half hour or so, you watched him as he writhed in his sleep and you felt your heart wrench knowing there was nothing you could do to rouse him from his sleep, unable to do your normal actions of slamming windows or dropping books so you felt a sense of relief when he jolted awake and looked over to where he knew you’d be, his eyes searching for the outline of your body to give him some comfort.

You forced yourself to show up, glowing faintly in the darkened room as Haechan was able to catch your silhouette before it disappeared again. His eyes bore straight into yours, even if you knew that to him, he was simply staring at a wall so you didn’t move, not wanting to leave his gaze as he spoke to you.

“Y/n, I hope you know that every moment I spend with you is precious to you. Whether I can see you or not, I know when you’re with me.” He confessed, his eyes starting to tear up. “I can only hope that I am making your last moments precious for you as well.”

You hoped so desperately to have enough strength to show yourself again to let him know that you heard him and felt the same way, but you were unable to. Your own wet eyes mirrored his as you reached out a hand to cup his face, a tear slipping out of your eyes as you watch your hand merely fall through his cheek.

June 2, 2020

You’ve come to terms with the fact that your time on earth is running out when you can only seem to manage to materialize once or twice a day, lasting for only about a second each time. You were upset that you didn’t get to say a true goodbye to the other three boys, wanting to thank them for taking such good care of you. Maybe you just so hoped that this regret would keep you with them longer, if only for a few more days.

June 4, 2020

When Haechan returns to his room after eating breakfast with the rest of the guys, you watch as he sits down in front of his keyboard before turning around to face his bed, where he’s guessing you were as he spoke. “Y/n, I wrote this song for you. I don’t know how much longer I have left with you so I rushed the ending of it, but I wanted to show you now before it’s too late.”

With that, he turned back around and began playing a melody you had heard from him before though it was different this time around now that he was singing the lyrics he wrote for you.

Like Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Moments with you are always special. I’m thankful for all the days we spend together, At times like this I get shy, but it means I love you. When I see you brightly smiling and dazzling, My wish of us being together forever seems like it’ll come true. I know the future isn’t clear and the past might be sad, But don’t worry anymore. Just keep adding days like this. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, I only have plans filled with you, I think it’s perfect. In my heart, my dreams were possible through you, I want to fulfill them all with you. I’m not alone, I’m with you, When I needed someone, you came to me. Even in the ordinary, I celebrate your preciousness, Please always stay by my side.

I want to give you gift-like days, you and me, me and you baby. Without leaving behind a single day, it’s only us. Like candlelight that never goes out, My wish of us being together forever seems like it’ll come true.

June 5, 2020

If you’re being completely honest with yourself, you’ve practically given up trying to make your whereabouts known to the boys, though they continued to speak to you as they estimated your location and if you were even present in the same room or not.

You wanted to tell Haechan how much you loved the song he wrote, but you were unable to. You wanted to do something for his birthday but you barely had enough strength to walk yourself from the balcony back into his room.

For the first time within the last four years of your existence, you felt tired. You had forgotten this feeling, what it was like to be tired and suddenly you remembered when all you wanted to do was lie down and sleep.

It was late already, the digital clock on Haechan’s desk reading 11:48pm as he stepped out from the bathroom, freshly showered. You eyed him, wanting to get up and kiss him all over, to give him the same love he gave to you, and you felt so helpless when you knew you wouldn’t be able to.

He lay down in his bed with his hair still slightly wet. “Can you believe it’s already been a whole year since we first moved in?” He turned his head, guessing at where your face was but returning his gaze to the ceiling to not make you feel bad before continuing on. “I never would’ve believed in ghosts if I hadn’t met you but now I’m always gonna think all ghosts are as sweet as you and that’s not good,” he said as he let out a laugh at the end, “I’m going to get myself killed if I try talking to a ghost that isn’t as kind and loving as you.”

Haechan went silent for a bit before continuing on. “But you would never let that happen right? You’ll be my angel watching down on me from above,” he paused as a sly smile appeared on his face, “or you’ll be my little demon waiting for me in hell.” He snicked to himself at his joke. “Ah, you’re probably trying to hit me right now. Don’t worry, I’ll do it myself.” And with that, he slapped his own cheek before telling you “I really love you and I hope you know that.”

June 6, 2020

As soon as the clock’s display changed to 12:00am, Haechan’s door burst open, revealing the other three boys with party hats atop their heads as they carried in a small cake with two candles on it, showing his new age of twenty. They began singing happy birthday and you even sang along with them, clapping your hands to the beat, even if they couldn’t hear you.

“Make a wish!” Renjun exclaimed once the song was over.

Haechan clasped his hands together as he closed his eyes for a few seconds. “Y/n, I know you’re still here. Before you go, please do this one last time for me.” He reopened his eyes and looked over at where he assumed you were and gestured towards the cake. You felt your heart swell with love as you took a final glance at him before using all your remaining energy to blow out the candle.

When the flame of the candle went out, so did your view of the world. Everything faded to black as your fire was extinguished, letting you rest in peace as Haechan’s candlelight.

A/N - as always, credit goes to @soleilhyuck​ for coming up with the idea for this fic. thank you for patiently waiting and giving lots of love to this series and please look forward to frat boy!yuta next month as well <3

[acertainsomeone]

Mess- EdSer Oneshot

It’s been a long and knackering day not just at work but overall, to begin with. It was as if his life couldn’t stop itself from surprising him at every instant, and believe us they weren’t good surprises minus the one when Eda kissed him at the conference, or when he accepted his feelings for her. It’s been a bumpy ride ever since that. Things were not falling into space and he was amazed that he hadn’t collapsed yet. Maybe it was because of the things that were still the reason of each breath. There were things that he could not let go of. It had been 48 hours since the awful evening at Prince Seyman’s place. Eda, the love of his life, the woman he had lost his heart and soul to, had broken up with him, in fact they were not together at first place. She had straightaway told him that their relationship had been a mistake and she could not be with him. His face reminded her of her parents' death. She wasn’t wrong, he had thought. From now onwards whenever he will look at Semiha hanım he will also think of all the mistakes he had made in life that God decided to send her in his life.

If the breakup wasn’t hard hitting for him already, today’s lunch and it's unfortunate events surely had a go at him. The universe was indefinitely plotting against him if not less. How sinful was he to fall for Eda Yildiz that he had to bear the burnt by watching her having a romantic lunch with another man, who was unapologetically touching her at all places. Even he didn’t get to touch her like that for months. Alright, the pottery date counted as something but that was not even half of what Seyman tried to do with Eda.

Balca had insisted on a lunch, and in all honesty, he had agreed to do so only to rile Eda and show her that he could do better without her. She wasn’t the only woman left for him in this entire universe. Well, she really was the only woman for him in the whole world but at the moment Serkan wasn’t ready to have that conversation with himself. The drama during the lunch had been too much for him to digest, he really needed to sway away from these burdens and get a hot bath to relax his nerves.

Dragging his feet, with his coat hung upon his shoulder, and sleeves rolled up, Serkan made his way inside to his apartment that was like always hauntingly quiet. It was until he took a few more steps and widened his eyes enough to see that the exquisitely furnished lounge was in a mess. The sofa was upside down, vase broken, in fact every piece of art that he had specifically ordered from different parts of the world were shattered across the room. It seemed as if someone had broken into his apartment, but that was impossible. It could not have happened because at least he would have been alerted.

A perplexed Serkan made his way upstairs, a bit cautious just in case the chances of a burglar breaking into his apartment were true. It was messy all around, it seemed someone had entered his home with the intention of creating a havoc. A storm would have done less damage he thought.

“What the Fuck!” He exclaimed out loud in confusion and shock. Of all the possibilities of his apartment turning out to be a wreck, this was not even the last one on this mind. To his surprise, the woman who had made his day miserable (not really) was right there lying on the bed on her stomach, eating an apple while reading a magazine, which he thought was just an added aesthetic to the setting. Sirius on the other hand, while cheerfully beside her, he had been missing her a lot.

“Oh you are home! Hoş Gledim” Eda raised her brows pleasantly surprised but he could feel the sarcasm in her tone. She straightened up and rested her back against the bed. “Done serving your balca with the bugle for today? Serkan bey ?”

“Eda are you out of your mind? What are you doing here? And what is this mess for?” Ignoring her last comment, he asked her in a disbelief. Unable to comprehend the reason for her arrival and this mad behavior.

“How dare you ask me what I’m doing here?” She screamed and threw the magazine at his face violently. Even poor sirius got scared and left the room instantly. Serkan made a mental note of why was she holding the magazine before. The vases and other ornaments were broken so obviously she needed something to break his head or throw at him.

“SAKIN EDA. Sakin.”

“Next time choose your words and actions cautiously Serkan Bolat or there will be a rock instead of a magazine at your head next time.” She glared at him furiously.

Serkan couldn’t comprehend the reasoning behind her behavior. She was the one who pulled the breakup stunt last night and acted all possessive during the lunch. It was her who pushed him to punch Seyman because she had allowed him to even set a finger on her skin. Now she was in his home accusing him of a deed that he had no about, and ruining the expensive décor with her rage.

“You need to see a therapist Eda.” He soundly registered looking at the condition of his room. But the moment the words left his mouth he regretted instantly, this wasn’t the exact time to pinch her nerves Serkan.

“I would but only after you end up at the orthopedic.”

“NE?”

“Don’t try to fool around me Serkan. You’re not as naïve as you act.”

“What’s wrong with you Eda?”

Eda sat on her knees and pulled the pillow from her back to hit him with it. It wasn’t a single blow, Serkan couldn’t understand where did she muster the strength to hit him so hard, in fact put the furniture down.

“THIS. THIS IS WRONG WITH ME. You are everything that’s wrong with me Serkan.”

“EDA. It hurts, my neck is already hurting.”

“Gerçekten?” She stopped midway to look at him with a sarcastic pout that made her look cuter than ever before. Why she had to mess up everything when she can’t stop looking like this, it gets difficult to keep my hands of her, thought serkan.

“SERKAN BOLAT.” Eda let out his name with full authority and warning. She was no longer on the bed. Her index finger pointed at Serkan, and her feet gradually pacing towards her were signaling towards a war. Serkan began to step back worried for his life until he was met by a closet, leaving no room for escape. They need to make the room airier and without closets for future just in case.

“What do you think of yourself? What was so awfully wrong with your neck that you had to take the expertise of Balca rather than a doctor.”

So, it finally made sense to him that what was this all about. Eda’s animosity towards balca was no longer a secret from him. Even she was quite open about it now. He hadn’t expected that the moment between him and balca would disturb Eda to this extent that she will come for this throat.

His neck had a sprain and Balca, even though he insisted her not to, offered to fix it in a moment. Surprisingly, she did succeed, and he was grateful to her for that.

“Serkan!” Eda slapped him on his arm. “I’m here for answers, do you hear me.”

“Eda it was nothing, besides you are overreacting and please it was nothing in comparison to what was going on between you and your prince.”

“Serkan--- Seriously? What are we? Five? Is this some revenge game? I thought we were over the jealousy part in our relationship.” She sighed, and suddenly her voice had dropped.

Serkan sensed the tension and wished she had remained mad at him. That was better than this Eda at least. “Tamam I agree that I went a bit overboard and took advantage of the situation but Eda the prince was crossing his limits. You cannot deny that.”

“SERKAN BOLAT.” Eda held him by his collar and glared at him while pressing her tongue behind her teeth. “You dare let that woman come near you next time, and I swear on Sirius that I will be first to rip off that neck of yours.”

If Serkan hadn’t known Eda so well, he wouldn’t have taken that threat seriously. But this was Eda Yildiz, and she could do anything.

“We are surviving a pandemic, canım.” “Let her know and ask her to maintain a distance of 6 ft.” “You cannot afford to die anytime soon.” She let go of his collar and jerked him backwards with her right hand. Serkan stood their dumbfounded for a couple of seconds to make a mental note of what had just happened.

Eda was back on the bed, eating her apple and this time resting her head on the spare pillow to gather some moments of peace.

…..................................................................................................

She was circling his bare, shoulder with her long circles. Drawing patterns and teasing his toned muscles. Wrapped in white sheets, with lights off and their accelerated heartbeats, Eda and Serkan were silent for the last the one hour. In fact, the hadn’t talked much during their mating session, which was rather surprising.

““Remember when you talked about running away with me?” Eda uttered silently, her fingers hadn’t stopped doing that to his shoulder because she knew how much she was relishing it at the moment.

“Evet” He answered, not paying attention to what she had said but engrossed in the scent of her hair currently scattered across his face. He did not want to be disturbed, not even her voice at the moment.

“I should’ve listened to you and run away immediately.” Serkan raised his head from her chest and looked at her inquisitively.

“For what?”

“For us” She smiled at him kindly, resting his head back on her chest.

“Stay tonight.”

“I can’t, it’s dangerous Serkan.”

“Ahhh the wicked grandma will catch the children in bed.” He chuckled out loudly. “Heyy, it’s gonna be fine. Sooner than you’ll know.”

“But I’m scared Serkan. Last night, breaking up with you even if it was all a lie, felt worse than any of the nightmares I’ve seen so far. “I’d not even think about hurting you with those words, let along smashing them on your face.”

“I know. But can we please not talk about last night. It was horrible anyways.” “Nevertheless, you need not to worry about, we will run away if your babaannen didn’t fix herself up.”

“She won’t.” “And I can’t risk your life along with your parents.”

“You won’t.” He gestured calmly, with a smile on his face and kissed her on the chin only to bury his head back where it belonged earlier.

“Your calmness annoys me sometimes. I don’t know what’s in your head serkan but if this plan didn’t work out then?”

“Eda. Can you stop? It’s been a day and I am still trying to comprehend the events of last night.”

“Peke. I have to leave in next thirty minutes anyways.”

“Great, you can clean the mess, meanwhile I can catch some sleep.” He grinned sheepishly, only to receive a smack from her. They looked at each other with brimmed yet hopeful eyes.

There was hope to fix things and fix the mess in their life. They knew that their togetherness is their biggest strength at the moment.

Stay close to people who feel like sunshine

Hold close to people who make you shine

[seedleaflesssapling]

Ver 2.0? Turning Point?

I can't really identify to which point in my life that i started to doubt myself but im pretty sure that it was because of UP. Damn, that school, my uni. It do really have the ability to make you feel small; i was in a disadvantaged side when i entered it, you know. I was acquainted, no we did not really talked one-on-one, but i heard when we did introductions - Pisay, UP High, science comprehensive schools, Xavier University, who wouldn't be intimidated by that when you came from Col. Ruperto Abellon National School (who would know where that is? I was lucky enough for a teacher recognized it and my classmates be like 'ahhhhhh,' .....really?! I dont even know where xavier is, it just sounds cool). Another thing is that, i wasn't a stem shs graduate - a leverage(?) or excuse (?) that i always use for them to know that i am at disadvantaged side here, not their competitor, probably a NOBODY. They, being stem graduates, have capstone projects you never thought that they have at that age, but i would hear them saying that it was publish in this journal (whatever, idk the journals lmao, i dont even understand their studies 2nd lmao, but that was some smart shit you know, a shit that makes me feel pathetic for being too proud of my what? Correlational study from inconsistent surveys?!!! Wtf, wtf, wtf). But it was a very good peer pressure you know, i kinda turned it that way. Being left behind, being on the rock bottom, i have no other place to go but up. It wasn't the goal, like making or taking the top spot, i just need to survive.

Inevitably, the exams came. I had hard time adjusting chem but math was kind to me. Who would have thought that i would get two 1.0 at my math subjects for the first semester, the sem that i thought i would barely pass. I was even a CS for that sem. Who would have thought? Our first chemical engineering subject that involves computations was on the list the next semester and the first exam, out of 100 i got something like 20ish. WTF. THAT WAS MY FIRST FAILED EXAM. but no, never did cry but tears were flooding inside. So apparently, i have to focus more on this subject and i did. Some were still failing, but i raised my average up. We also had physics, my first ever physics. I really love physics that time or that sir rommel is just a very good professor. I got the highest score on our second LE, everybody else did fail. Small victories. Not that they lose, but i just won. But i heard one time they were talking about me re: passing the physics exam and even getting a high score. They were uhm.. a guy i really look up to cause his good, the other was a girl that idk but i think she didn't like me back then. They were friends but eventually the girl transferred uni because who cares why. i heard the guy saying something like sin.o gid na si franklin nga taas iya score man, maybe even worse than that, i still look up to the guy even until now. But wtf. I really took it in that time, like i wanted to cry but did not. With all that, i got a fair grade at physics. I still got 1.0 at maths that sem and even maintained being on the CS list. S M I L E. BECAUSE WE HAVE A MIDYEAR CLASS. VERY EXHAUSTING FOR SOMEONE WHO DONT WANT ANYTHING BUT JUST ADJUST, SURVIVE, AND FIND MEANING OF BEING A UP STUDENT. It was just one subject and it was math, but i got 2.0?!!! I have no excuse to that, i am very grateful for the family who accommodated me. After midyear class, i did got sick, it sucks, really sucks. I wanted to file an LOA for the next academic year, it is the only thing i can think of for me to go back on track (i haven't said that my parents pushed me to graduate with latin honor and i wanted to also for my resume to look good because everything else in me is effed up). I really wanted to pause and be free for a while but i also wanted to graduate on time (mostly because i want to give the bitches who dared to have expectations be put on my shoulders not the satisfaction, but the audacity to tell them 'i aint did it for ya') so i asked mama. THANK GOD, SHE DID SAY NA KUNG ANO LANG KAYA MO, AMO LANG DA IH 😭😭🤧🤧 so i enrolled, but went to school late, haven't attended the school opening but all is good. I did kind of reset, just enough for me to face school again.

Second year, it was fucked. I did really love coding on octave and doing sheets at ms excel though. On that year, we have formed the che 103 bagsak group. Together with two of my classmates on 103 and math 55, we became buddies after failing che 103 on the first LE, another 30 over 100 exam hahahahaha. We made bawi just enough for us to pass the subject hahahahahuhu. I have thermodynamics sub, i barely pass. Thank G na wala ko nag removal. If ever i did, i am so sure that i wont make it. My GWA for that sem was not enough for me to be a CS. Who cares? I still did, actually but mama was never been too pushy since then, even since after midyear, after getting that 2.0 grade from the only subject i am good at. Btw, my math 55 for first sem, second year, was 1.25. Not a 1.0 but still, it's good. Second semester that year was when pandemic hit so there's nothing much to tell. I was, sorry but i was really, glad to be away from school for a while, not until for a while became forever. Virtual university set-up was very hard. With too much from taking in whatever i see and hear on my surroundings, even just at home, everything is difficult. It is very hard to find motivation and discipline in studying when i was surrounded with people who do nothing. Even to this point i am writing, everyday is like a battle, but is mostly an internal one. Self vs self, a war no one knows who will win. So the confidence, the tower of knowledge i did build, exponentially went down. I did really well when i was in grade 10, i did my best that time and it can be seen at the achievements i had that year. Being consistently on top 1 the whole year, placing second on division MMC (even getting the highest score on the written elimination round for the whole cluster), doing well sa physics under maam andico, placings on cluster journalism competitions - it was like a record best, best record (?) Whatever. But it wasn't enough you know, i eventually came fourth like wtf. I had read from somewhere Newton saying like the two years when he did write the three laws of motion and the calculus stuff were the two best years of his life, and it kept me thinking that what if mine already passed? That it was when i was in high school?

But, back when i was in school, every time that i was belittling myself or even at random times that i would feel nervous for nothing, my classmates and close friends would say na:

Uno mo man ang Math, uno mo na na (it was a one or two time thing, what if chamba lang to???)

Ikaw man highest sa first le sa thermo (it was really an absolutely one time thing, i barely passed that sub)

Alam ka man sa physics (i was just invested on physics and maybe nachambahan lang na ang ginpractice ko solve kay parallel sa exam ni sir)

Alam ka, d ka lang confident (OKAY???!)

I was ignoring those shit cause who cares if i did really good that time. Yeah, it felt good but it wasn't fulfilling. Satisfied but not happy. But with recent events, i think i would be changing. This post will be a written contract that i will push to be better, to start trusting myself, and build that confidence glow behind me; to believe that i am bright and i can hack it, whatever it may be.

For coherence, i would itemize na lang all of the events that brought me to epiphany lol

It was Friday, 17 Sep, when Dean, in our plant design subject, gave an activity for us - to come up with solutions that would address problems he presented. 1 off grid island community (either you address the water, electricity, and phone reception/signal problem under a 100k budget) and 2 vinegar packaging with a 500 mL volume and should cost less than the cost of vinegar. The due's on Monday, 20 Sep. The challenge is that you should come up with an idea that is not the same with those who already turned in their proposed solutions. I haven't turned in mine until Sunday afternoon. We are 23 in class, hence there should be 23 proposed solutions for each problem. However, only 20 or 21 turned in their solutions and as a student who decided to do it three days after the sheet was given, i was at the second to the last of the entries hahaha. I have limited choice since a lot have been proposed. And ngl, i did entered my idea for the first problem at Sunday evening and for the second problem it was on the afternoon of the next day. Those were basic solutions cause who am I? Am just your basic guy.

Tuesday, 21 Sep (#NeverForget #NeverAgain), class again for plant design (PD). Dean discussed stuffs which im ngl, i did not listen because im bored (not until he said 'we'll have a 5-min break and we'll have a quiz after that' like wtf, how will we do our quiz???!). After the short break, I did study cause i panicked as hell, he presented the prospects of the course, that we will be divided in groups and that the leaders were chosen based on the solutions they turned in the activity previously given. So there's no quiz, i was calm the whole time after that until my name was called. Like wtf??! Your basic guy will be a leader???! Hello!!! So i chat people, asked them if it was a good thing (course it was!!!? So dumb right?!). And then, i asked another leader and she agreed to my argument that we should only be divided into six instead of seven as what dean has decided. So i chatted dean (pic below). I just accepted the role half-heartedly.

As leaders, we should be hiring people for our team and we should make pubs. I dont have a canva account to help me do pubs. I made mine at MS ppt HAHAHAHAHAHA but im good so its cute. We were assigned with projects and i get to have the 4-member team. The vacant roles were project maven and liaison officer for a 3-member team. In my pubs, i included scrummaster as position to be filled, cause who am i to lead?! So yeah, that's it. I did the pubs Wednesday and I submitted my resume Thursday (third to the last hahahaha but my resume's cute hahaha).

Thursday. So i had this invite by a classmate to join the Shell event long time ago. He was reaching out for someone to ask Dean for his approval because Dean did not replied to the email he sent. So, i volunteered. I really want this competition cause this will be my first and maybe last competition as a UP student. So i DMed dean and blah blah blah he asked for selection process. I relayed the message and apologize to them for being me because i was thinking that it was me who made him come up with the decision of having the team be selected. Like, wtf i was just asking for his approval. Getting kicked out of the team was not my intention. Those whom i chatted that night were telling me that it wasn't my fault blah blah blah. So i half-heartedly agreed to them.

Friday came, yesterday, the interview. I am very anxious for someone who will be the one asking the applicants lmao. I already have been interviewed before for college applications and somehow remember the feeling, nerve wracking, whatever. To calm my nerves, i listed questions which i never got to ask properly btw, but at least i have concrete ideas on what to ask. The first interviewee was my very closed friend and so we just laugh and laugh and laugh HAHAHAHAHA. IDK if dean saw it but who cares. And the next and next and next. 3:30 passed by fast and guess what??? YOUR BASIC GUY HAS THE MOST NUMBER OF APPLICANTS TO THE POINT THAT DEAN CUT MY LIST. IT WAS EXHAUSTING BUT VERY FLATTERING. I FEEL SO HONORED. i really thought and very scared at the thought that no one will apply to me but wtf, just wtf. Ranking my applicants was damn hard. 1 i have a dream team but one was cut by dean; 2 this could make my friends mad; 3 this will be the group for the whole year; 4 i am really exhausted. But still, i submitted the list. I was hoping for the people i chose to choose me back. Only two out of three did, i am forever grateful.

Still on Friday, the classmate who invited me to the Shell thing and Dean had a zoom call and discussed about the competition. That classmate told dean what i told him the other day that i might be the reason for the decision of having the selection process done. He told me this through a voice memo, katamad daw magtype. A voice message that i played over and over again. Dean actually find me interesting (?), Invested (?) Idk exactly but the classmate told me na 'may nakikita daw talaga sya sayo. Na grabe ka ka-practical as a person like yung ideas mo daw sa plant design napakasimple lang pero napaka practical to the point daw na madami nag apply sayo kanina. And then, you need more confidence lang daw talaga' so ig, you basic guy is a practical guy now. It's just flattering.

Now, whatever happens, i must meet those expectations right? This could be a lousy motivation but what is if there's none? I dont know why im writing this. I just thought i should get my thoughts out. Ver 2.0? Turning point? Let's just do good 😌

PS I put this on my bio on FB, guess im getting more public, and if you happened to read this because you saw the link on my bio, send me a message about you thoughts.

PPS if your initials are JTZC, these have been my week and i miss you even though you're not interested in me anymore, you are hard to forget