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#i had like a lil bit of a crisis last week and got one of The Apps bc idk might as well make an effort
shewantsitall · 2 years
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When you experience a thing that seems like a set up for a soulmates au irl and it is the weirdest feeling of all time what in the world is happening??????
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rising-volteccers · 1 year
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Would you consider doing a kidnapping fic? Where Friede gets caught by Spinel and has to wait for the others to rescue him?
Well after working on this on and off for the past week, it's finally done! I had fun writing it so I hope it'll be an enjoyable read! I envision this to be a what if scene between HZ016 and HZ017.
Series: Pokemon Horizons
Characters: Friede, Spinel, Mollie, Murdock
--
Distantly, Friede wondered what crimes he committed in a past life to earn himself this Arceus damned awful day. 
His working memory might be poor but he did recall how the day started. After they docked the Brave Asagi on the outskirts of Mesagoza, each of them split up to cover more grounds with their resupply efforts. They were heading off to the Galar region, and while it was a considerably shorter trip from Kanto to Paldea, any trip that involved them crossing the ocean required their supplies to be topped up. The last thing they wanted was, in the event of an emergency, for them to run out of essentials far away from civilization. 
With the recent excitement of Liko’s disappearance still fresh on their mind, it was decided that the kids were to remain on board for today. Murdock, Orla and himself would do the resupply run. Friede trusted in Orla and Murdock’s ability to fend for themselves if something were to happen, though he hoped it won’t come down to it.
Really, what were the chances of trouble brewing so soon after the last crisis? 
(He would come to regret thinking that).
Friede’s task was to pick up the potions and other similar medication Mollie required from the Pokemon Centre. She already called and placed the order in advance so it was a simple matter of picking it up. He soon left the red-roofed building with a medium sized box filled with various bottles. Friede knew to be careful when carrying such fragile items lest Mollie would be very displeased with him. 
He planned on at least heading towards the city gates before releasing his trusty Charizard. Having more space to spread his wings led to a smoother take-off, thus reducing his chances of spilling any of the potions. Just as he spotted the large archway exiting the city, he paused in his steps from the sudden light tug of his jacket.
Looking down, Friede found a young girl looking up at him with large, brown doe eyes. He easily fixed a kind smile even as he tried to subtly search for her guardians. 
“Hello there lil miss. Are your parents around?” he asked, adopting a gentle tone.
“Mister mister, can you help?” she responded instead in that high pitched voice kids her age were capable of reaching. Before Friede could question further, she pointed at an alleyway off to the side. “My Meowth got spooked and ran in there. I think he’s hiding behind some stuff but I can’t reach him.”
While his smile never faltered, inwardly he was mildly surprised at the request. The whole setting seemed… odd. Friede didn’t see anyone who looked like they were missing a kid, not to mention no one seemed bothered that a girl this young went up to a complete stranger asking for help. He supposed that Meowth could be a family pet and was accompany this girl. Still, it didn’t sit right with him.
“Mister pretty please help with a cherry on top?” The girl tugged at his jacket a bit more urgently, her eyes welling up with her bottom lip wobbling. Briefly, an instinctive panic filled him at the thought that a kid was about to cry on him.
“I’ll help, don’t worry! We’ll get your Meowth back in no time,” he agreed, swallowing down the mild panic and the rest of this strange feeling. It never really faded as he followed her towards the alleyway in question. 
The alley stretched far back till it got blocked off by a wall. Several boxes littered one side while a large bin was laid out by the wall. Friede supposed that between the two, it was likely that the Meowth got stuck within the bin, out of sight from the girl who barely reached his stomach. 
“Meowth? Meowth come out please. We gotta head back before mommy gets worried!” she called out while Friede placed down the box of potions. He passed the boxes and made a beeline towards the large bin, unaware of the eyes that trekked his every move. 
Seeing that the lid was partially closed, Friede pushed it open so he could peer in. 
He didn’t find a Meowth. What he found instead were multi colored lights that swirled in an odd, rhythmic pattern. 
That was the last thing he properly recalled before his world faded into darkness. Well, he still remained within it when consciousness trickled back in. The fog in his head lifted quickly upon realizing his current predicament.
Namely, the fact that he was seated with his arms and legs restrained. His hands were tied uncomfortably behind his back with bindings keeping his legs in place to the chair. A blindfold covered his open eyes, and he could only grunt and breathe harshly through the duck tape over his mouth. 
Initially he struggled, trying to wiggle himself out of the rope but soon surrendered to the evidence that it was too tight. Then his mind went into overdrive. Everything pointed to the undeniable fact that he was tricked into getting kidnapped. 
At first he went through a whole slew of questions. Who kidnapped him? What was the reason behind it? Where was he taken to? How long has it been since then? Did his crew knew of his disappearance? 
Once Friede managed to wrestle his thoughts together, his mind quickly whirled to those multi colored lights he saw before he (presumably) fell unconscious. Oh, it couldn’t be–
“I see you’re awake now, Professor.” Friede tensed up the moment an affable voice spoke up somewhere in front of him. “I hope you don’t mind the way I brought you here. It was far too easy to appeal to your helpful nature that it’s a little boring, I must say. Very predictable.”
Appeal to his–? Oh, the chilling realization hit him like he dunked his head in ice water.
“Don’t worry, she has no memory of the instructed task,” they replied, casually admitting to having hypnotized a young child into luring him towards a trap. Then again, Friede had no doubts now on the identity of his kidnapper. 
He jerked in his chair, briefly tugging at his restraints before settling again. Friede released a harsh breath through his nose, throat strained from the sounds he made behind the tape. He was showing his anger one way or another.
“Right, I suppose speaking is difficult for you right now.” 
With the rest of his senses restricted, his hearing became far more sensitive to the sound of approaching footsteps, the soft squeak of leather making him tense with each step. A finger started to scratch at the top left corner of the tape. He felt the fingertips that grabbed hold of said corner, and without any warning the tape was yanked off his mouth. 
Friede winced, both from the sharp pain and the loud sound of tape being ripped from flesh seemingly echoed around him. 
“There, that should–”
“You’re sick. How could you tamper with a child’s memories like that? She was younger than her," Friede hissed out, anger swiftly burning within him. Fury was better than fear at the moment, so he held onto it even as the cadence of his heart elevated from the sudden grasp of his chin.
"Mouthy aren't you? Haven't you heard about utilizing the tools around you? She did her part and she's now safely returned with her parents. I can't fathom where this undue anger is coming from." No shred of remorse was in their tone. The even, clinical way they compared a child to a tool sickened him.
To actually hear the voice of a person who had zero hesitation in having his Pokemon attack defenseless children added layers to the muted horror he felt when he listened to Liko's tale the first time. How simply they threatened to wipe the memories of the kids present on that ship. 
Friede could have gone off about that. The anger writhing inside him demanded that he do something to wipe the smile he could hear in their voice. Unfortunately for him, the rational bit left within him yanked back the impulse to throw his body forward, chair and all, in the hopes of at least pinning them down with the combined weight. 
He didn't know whether this person was alone or had their Pokemon with them. At least a Magneton and Beheeyem judging from their last encounter. That person with the Bisharp had acted as bait to lure him away, likely ordered by his kidnapper or had been an unfortunate victim of mind tampering too. 
This person was dangerous, that Friede could not deny. Being trapped and restrained left him utterly powerless. Who knew what this person was capable of had Friede chosen to be uncooperative. 
So he held his tongue from the hot spew of vitriol, swallowing down his anger to at least ground out a "What do you want from me?" in a somewhat neutral tone.
"Me? I just wanted a proper chat with the illustrious leader of the Rising Volt Tacklers," they replied. From the faint scraping noise, he presumed that the other took a seat in front of him.
"Really? Last time you were awfully shy by ordering your mons remotely. Wasn't too keen on that guy you sent too." Was it smart to be sarcastic at a time like this? Perhaps not but the words slipped out of his mouth before his brain comprehended it.
"Oh that? It was simple data collection. It was rather disappointing until you terastalized your Charizard. Even I couldn't predict it to have a Dark Tera Type." 
"Oh I'm sorry for not putting up more of a fight in a two versus one. I'd be more than happy to make it to you if you could free me from these restraints, hm?"
Friede's breath got caught in his throat when slender fingers once again gripped at his chin. He felt the slight dig of nails, resisting the urge to swallow.
"Perhaps it'd be better to have gagged you instead." It took a considerable level of impulse control to not blurt out an inappropriate comment right there and then. "But time is limited as is, and I really did mean what I said. I simply wanted to chat with you."
"Then what's so important to talk about that you had to kidnap me for?" Friede asked through gritted teeth.
“It’s that girl, isn’t it? She’s the key.” Ice swiftly filled his veins. He had an inkling on where they were going with this. “That pendant of hers… it has similar properties to terastalization. It didn’t react at all when I analyzed its properties until she was within the vicinity and in danger. That pendant protects her.”
Damn it, only Amethio knew of that connection before this. The guy was straightforward but treated people and Pokemon well enough. This kind of information in the hands of an enemy that had no qualms about harming kids directly was downright dangerous. 
“Even if it was, what did you think I’d say? Congratulations, here’s a gold star.” Friede’s snark kept trepidation from creeping into his form. “You’d think we’re going to let you waltz in and grab her again?”
“Really, I just want a civil talk. I don’t know where all this vitriol is coming from.” Oh, the mocking undercurrent to his pleasant tone really had Friede consider his earlier impulse. They should be in front of him, right? Just a sudden surge forward to knock them somewhere that hurts would be enough. “But, I suppose I should thank you for confirming it. I’ll have to consider my approach next time.”
“How about you just never do and leave her alone? Or is that too much to ask?”
“Such a silly question to ask Professor Friede. I have my orders and I will see them through. Still, I suppose there’s no harm in reevaluating the data I’ve collected.”
So they’re following someone’s others. The higher ups of the Explorers? Their boss? Friede thought, storing that bit of information at the back of his mind. Before he could run his mouth any further, he heard a series of beeps.
“Ah, it seems that our time is nearly up. I must say, perhaps there is more to this motley crew of yours, especially that girl.”
Did they mean Liko? Or Dot? Friede felt his hackles raised at the thought of his kidnapper going after the kids again. For the third time, his chin was grasped with slender fingers. 
“It’s a shame that our lovely chat has to come to an end. A little saddening too that I’ll be the only one to remember it.”
The blindfold was suddenly yanked off, and the abrupt flash of light initially blinded Friede that he had to squeeze his eyes shut. He instinctively blinked to clear the whitish haze–then found himself face to face with multi colored dots that flashed in an odd, rhythmic pattern. Friede could not pull away, not with the hand keeping his head still. 
Oh Arceus not again–
“I’ll be looking forward to our next meeting,” was the last thing he heard prior to his world darkening once more.
“.... wake up…”
“...not… pulse…”
Light shakes slowly but surely jostled the cobwebs from his foggy brain as Friede regained consciousness. His brow furrowed slightly, and he must have made some kind of noise as the muted voices around him grew more animated.
“...ede. Friede, come on wake up if you hear me.” Those words were punctuated with another gentle shake on his shoulder. 
A soft groan slipped out but he did listen to the familiar voice. Yellow eyes slowly flicker open, the bleariness sharpening with each subsequent blink. Eventually, he could make out Murdock and Mollie’s worried faces.
“Friede, are you with us?” Mollie asked, her hand pulling away from checking his pulse on his neck.
“Mrgh,” came his eloquent response. A large, firm arm slid behind his shoulders to properly help him sit up. His head pounded something fierce while his wrists felt rather tender. “Yeah. I’m. I’m up.”
Mollie muttered something he couldn’t quite catch aside from alert and no other signs. Still pretty out of it, Friede instinctively jerked back when something cold was pressed against his lips.
“Sorry, I should’ve warned you. It’s a water bottle. Come on, try and take sips. You’ll feel better.” Murdock soothed him in the same vein that he does for the kids. Friede might have felt a little chuffed from the treatment but he eagerly took sips to ease his dry throat. Once done, he laid back against a warm surface that his mind informed him to be Murdock’s chest. 
“What happened?” Friede managed to ask.
“You were kidnapped. Dot received an encrypted message that had an image of you tied up. Thanks to her, she was able to narrow down your location before Rockruff sniffed you out.” He appreciated Mollie’s swift, straight to the point responses. Made it easier to take in the fact that he had a large gap in his memory.
“Ugh, can’t remember anything. Feels like my brain’s in a blender,” Friede uttered, briefly pressing the heel of his palm against his right eye. He heard a soft snort from Mollie.
“The forgetting bit’s nothing unusual but it’s safe to assume that you got your memories tempered with by that Beheeyem from before.”
It sucked because now Friede can’t help but wonder what went on during that long gap in his memory. “Man, I got kidnapped and can’t remember anything for my troubles. Not even a t-shirt.”
“If you’re aware enough to crack jokes like that, I suppose we don’t have to worry too much,” Murdock said, sounding mildly amused. 
“Still, I want to properly check you up. You’ve got some mild rope burns on your wrists, and knowing you, I’m guessing that you tried to struggle your way out,” Mollie piped up, storing away items into a small pack. 
“Wish I remembered I did that,” Friede muttered. With Murdock’s aid, he got to his feet. Surprised by the weakness in his legs, it was due to the arms supporting him that prevented Friede from taking a tumble.
“Just take it easy. You’ve been gone for hours and been tied to a chair all the while.”
“I can carry you if you want,” Murdock kindly offered. Friede briefly considered it but his pride couldn’t take it after apparently getting himself kidnapped and not remembering anything from it.
“It’s fine. Just be my support,” he grumbled. Murdock’s soft chuckle and the arm wrapped around his waist did ease his twitchy nerves. 
“Ready to head back?”
At Friede’s nod, the trio slowly made their way out of what looked to be a small abandoned building at the outskirts of Mesagoza. They head back towards the Brave Asagi, unaware of the Beheeyem watching them from the rooftops. 
Back on board, Friede would find himself hounded by worried kids, having to spend a good amount of time calming them down while Mollie treated the mild injuries he sustained. He too made sure to thank Dot personally later for her aid in finding him, and apologize that she had to see an image of him tied up. No doubt it was a scary sight.
Whoever that person was that kept messing with them… they better hoped that Friede never regained his memories because oh boy, the things he’d do for putting the kids through this… 
Still, he shelved that thought away for a later time. Right now, he had to assure Liko, Roy and Dot once more of his well being.
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safyresky · 3 months
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21. karaoke
(From the June prompts here. Sorry for the delay! Enjoy this silly lil thang! :D)
"Are you SURE this is a good idea?"
"Positive!!"
"Dite, it's BLOSSOM."
"She just needs to get out more!"
Jacqueline frowned, looking unsure. "I mean, yeah, it's just...karaoke? I'm not sure it's a great idea. I mean, you remember what happened last time we took her to an eatery, right?"
Sauce coated their table, Blossom standing on top of it as she squished the condiments out of their bottles, coating the child across from her as she yelled right at the poor, literal, ACTUAL CHILD, "THAT'S WHAT YOU GET! THAT'S WHAT YOU GET—"
"Too much sugar?"
"Then there was the mini golf incident."
The windmill from the tiny windmill hole circled the three Legates as they watched, in varying degrees of shock, as the tiny buildings crumbled, the animatronics sparking, a small fire breaking out behind Blossom who stood triumphant, putter in the air.
"HOLE IN ONE!" She shouted, unfazed as Myles fell out of the pirate ship as it creaked and groaned, Olivia managing to just dodge the mainsail as it collapsed towards her, hitting a teeter totter and sending kids flying.
Dite looked away, flushed. "I don't think that mini golf was up to code."
"The beach incident?"
"There's no WAY she could've caused that tsunami! I bet it was Summer. Or Mel. Or both. Maybe the nymphs?"
"Okay, that one does have a lot of players, I'll give you that," Xander chimed in. "But consider this: the Spire wide three day sleep?"
"That was a while ago!"
Xander raised an eyerbow. "That was just last week, Dite. My Dad is still sleeping it off."
"Still?"
Xander nodded.
"He's usually sleeping, though."
"But this is unprecedented, Jacqueline. Also, I'm trying to help your argument?"
"Fair point! Look, Dite. I love you, and I love that you want to include Blossom in more of these outings...there've just been way too many incidents in a row and I can only talk our way out of them so many times!"
"Oh, but you do it so well," Dite folded her hands and lay them against her cheek, eyelashes (and wings) fluttering.
Jacqueline flushed. "Oh! Yes. I do! I mean. I know!"
"Are you flustering her on purpose?"
Dite giggled. "It's fifty-fifty," she said, tilting her hand back and forth. "She's just like that! Listen. I have considered the unbridled chaos that seems to follow Blossom everywhere we go, and I've got a plan this time."
"Oh?"
"If something happens, I am going to TACKLE HER and fly out of there as fast as possible, before she can cause any trouble!"
Xander and Jacqueline shared a look.
"And you're sure this'll work?"
"Positive! Come on guys, please? Pleaseeeee!?"
Jacqueline sighed. Xander shrugged.
"That's not a no-o~!"
"Okay, FINE."
"Yay!"
"I'll bring some dream sand with me."
"And I'll turn up the charisma."
"Oh, you guys! Thank you. This is gonna be SO fun!"
"But you're telling the others."
"Not a problem! I'm sure they'll understand!"
---
Not all of them did.
Day and Night didn't show up; Spring came in a lovely little dress coated in vines, swirling up her arms and down her legs, right to the tips of her heels—just in case, she had explained. Myles replied, in all caps, NO, and minutes before go time Olivia bowed out, citing a bit of a crisis at home, maybe related to the mini-golf incident. Charlie managed to arrive on time, a little windswept and Santa backpack bag on his back, ALSO just in case, he explained.
Still a good turn out, Dite thought, as they headed into their usual haunt, the karaoke already starting. Blossom hopped ahead excitedly, unable to hop straight as she took in the sights, ears twitching, nose as well, head spinning back and forth like a predator was nearby.
Xander watched Blossom carefully, filing in beside Dite; Charlie was chatting animatedly with Dite, Spring and Jacqueline bringing up the rear, heads close as they whispered quietly.
They were ready.
---
The evening went surprisingly well.
That is, until Brennan appeared.
He sung beautifully; huge round of applause all around. Magibeans fawned over him, and soon after staff handed out earplugs, because Brennan was, in fact, a siren.
And Blossom decided that he was the guy to beat.
And it all went downhill from there.
---
It was a new record. Blossom had lasted pretty long, making sure to sing right after Brennan every. Single. Time.
An hour or so of this back and forth, a few magibeans taking turns between the two of them, and Blossom made contact.
With her little bunny paws.
There was a rush to the exit as water sloshed through the bar. A battle cry suddenly stopped mid scream. Vines were tangled all over the roof of the establishment as Dite made a mad dash out of the pub, barking sorries behind her as she flew out, carrying a sleeping bunny coated in gold and covered in greenery. Behind her, Xander and Charlie carried a similarly snoozing siren between them, placing him down in the shore and starting the...intense process of flagging down the other sirens and explaining what had happened to their fellow merperson.
Inside, Spring and Jacqueline shared a look and a sigh.
"I'll take care of the proprietor, you take care of the wet and the green?"
"Yep. Yep yep yep yep," Spring agreed, turning and lifting her hands, the vines and water bending to her will.
Wrinkling her nose and grumbling, Jacqueline took a deep breath in before putting on her sweetest smile and rushing to the bar to smooth things over with the very bewildered nymph behind it.
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lyntergalactic · 9 months
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lyn reads triple zero - finale
by which i mean i finished it last night and i have Thoughts
first off, it was a decently enjoyable book when i managed to turn off my brain. solid 3 stars. there's a lot of good here that i actually really liked, it's just... unfortunately balanced out by a lot of bad that made me want to throw my phone across the room.
so here we go. thoughts, in no particular order:
1.) i genuinely love the characters. even ones like kal who i hate as much as i love. i can see why people who don't do more than a surface reading like him. personally, i love how crunchy a character he is and how all his many flaws make him this unintentionally complex character. i just want to pick his brain apart.
i could ramble on about everyone but it's a lot of "these feelings i already had about these characters have been reinforced like crazy" which basically means i'm fascinated by all of them, want to get all of them therapy, and also want to write all the fic where they get to have healthier relationships lol
2.) there's a lot of yelling in tcw side of fandom about how the clones should get chances to act like the dumb college age kids they are, and they get to in this book!! i think some of my favorite moments were when the boys were egging each other on and giving each other shit. especially that fi and sev bit with the ladder, at least until sev hurts himself. like how fucking dumb is that but also how fucking typical of 20-ish year olds?
3.) fi is gay. fi is so gaaaaay. there are so many little points in his narration where it's like "ah, yes. he is absolutely attracted to [X] person" but beyond that, his whole little subplot about feeling like something in his life is missing? wanting a normal life and a girlfriend, etc? it's juxtaposed against etain and darman so much that it comes across like fi is in love with darman and just doesn't realize.
yes, i have a new ship. yes, i'm going to write horribly angsty fic for it. why do you ask?
4.) etain and darman are cute when KT isn't pushing her weird ass heteronormative agenda. though my aroace ass literally yelled at my phone "YOU'VE KNOWN HIM FOR A CUMULATIVE WEEK AND CHANGE, YOU DON'T LOVE HIM YET" when they had their first lil heart to heart and slept together that first time. but, again, they're young 20-somethings who might die at any time, i can forgive them that.
shit, i can even forgive etain's whole pregnancy thing--to a point--because she's a dumb kid who is going through a crisis of faith. (more on that specifically in a sec) but jfc kal's reaction to it all was--idefk. he's absolutely right to be furious with etain. what she did was stupid in the first place, not well thought through, and she's putting a hell of a lot at risk by going through with it.
but everything else about his reaction was just--dude. what the actual fuck. and 60% of that is his clinging to his bizarre conservative mando ideals while 40% is his utter disdain for the jedi and i just--UUUUGH.
5.) every time the jedi came up in narration. every. fucking. time. i wanted to scream. i know KT has terrible opinions on them. i've read most of the other books!! but oh my god it was especially bad.
do i think it would be interesting for etain and bardan to have crises of faith because of the war? absolutely. in fact, it even makes sense that they would!! but the way KT goes about it is just fucking baffling.
which is really highlighted by that one conversation etain has with ordo where he says "nah, you've got a worse life than i do because i was adopted but you were given away to strangers by your parents" and i'm just
THE FUCK DO YOU THINK HAPPENS TO NON-JEDI KIDS WHEN THEY GET ADOPTED, ORDO???? THEY'RE GIVEN AWAY TO STRANGERS BY THEIR PARENT(S).
there is just. so much. so much about the jedi that's so wrong and that if it was written rightly should've fucking changed entire character interactions and plot and it infuriates me.
6.) everything about the mission is just. plot holes all over. if i take it at surface value and treat it like a bad action movie that's just here for entertainment i'm fine, but the second i stop to actually think about how this whole mission is happening i'm just--that's not how this works. that's not how any of this works. how are you all not dead???
but, you know. whatever. i can deal with it. there were highly entertaining moments. i literally cackled out loud when fi told kal that he and sev planted explosives in the one dude's car and kal was like "... the car i was in?? FI." and i'm real intrigued by bardan as like... the commandos' Q figure. it's highly entertaining.
7.) i have A Lot of Opinions about the weird ass brand of masculinity KT's characters subscribe to. but one thing i appreciate is that her male characters cry and aren't thought of as less for it. it's one bastion of good in a sea of blegh.
8.) i mostly stopped capping bits as i got sucked in but i did nab this bit which made me laugh and is a good bit to end on. (i forgot what my other points were gonna be; work distracted me lkajsdf)
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fi as a musical fan is my new favorite headcanon. i don't care if grease doesn't actually exist in the gffa.
also i need a crossover with mass effect where he and garrus exchange sniping playlists.
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cagedchoices · 2 years
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Hiiii I'm really sorry to bother you but I noticed on your old blog you used to have a rule that said not to treat your character like Jesse Pinkman. I think I get why its a concern but I'm wondering why it doesn't say that anymore and also I'm curious to know about what you think the differences between Caleb and Jesse are
omg ok first of all bb, you are certainly not bothering me by asking questions. i appreciate being asked thank you 🥰
secondly uh, i removed that disclaimer from my rules bc i felt like i didn't really need it anymore. it does still apply but i really only had it up bc when i was still fairly new to writing caleb i would get a lot of anons making br.ba jokes. so naturally there would be a lot of people pretending to be fuckin walter white in my inbox trying to tell caleb "let's cook" and like "jesse stop screwing around with robots and get back to work" and shit and like. yeah it's a fun little joke. ONCE. 😬
when you're seeing it multiple times a day/week it loses charm real quick. so i decided to be kinda petty about it and be like 'y'all know that caleb is NOT jesse right?' and i did two things. i flat out stopped responding to br.ba anons and i added that warning to my rules. and it seemed like it worked! i stopped getting flooded and my inbox was allowed to know peace again. but like i said, i don't think i really need it anymore because it should just be kind of a given, right? i mean i'm sure this has happened to other people before and will continue to happen bc that's the internet and unfortunately some people have no concept of boundaries and others just struggle with understanding that they might be making someone uncomfortable without intending to.
but like. to think of a popular example which i'm sure has happened before and will surely happen in the future i just think of a mun who writes joel from the last of us and maybe they like using pedro pascal's portrayal and they enjoy using him as an fc. now imagine that rper getting an inbox filled with anon messages treating joel as totally indistinguishable from the mandalorian. telling him he's gotta go find grogu or asking him why he abandoned his son for ellie or something along those lines. there are some GLARING differences between joel miller and din djarin. they're clearly not the same character.
so it might be funny to the person sending the messages and they're probably just having fun like. i'm sure they don't mean anything bad by it. but lemme tell ya, it's not as much fun to the mun on the receiving end. and in my case it sent me into a lil bit of a writer crisis like 'oh fuck is caleb nichols just a carbon copy of jesse pinkman is that how other people i write with see him?? what can i do to make him stand apart and be different without pulling him away from westworld canon too much??'
so anyway that's the rant over with. to answer the second half of this, caleb and jesse are different people. they just are. they do have a lot in common ranging from appearance to basic personality traits to the way they use body language, but they aren't completely the same. they come from different backgrounds which were influenced by various different factors.
jesse is more creative, he's an artist at heart and he has an artist's mindset and that's a kind of freedom to him. he expresses himself mainly through aesthetics. he draws, he wears a colorful wardrobe that really makes him stand out, the first time walter tells him that cooking crystal is chemistry jesse argues back that it is art and he has his signature style and he resents that walt forces him to change it. the reason jesse got involved in the drug trade is predominantly because it's the one place he is allowed and encouraged to express himself freely through art.
caleb on the other hand, is a soldier and he has a soldier's mindset toward most things. he is/was for the most part content with being told what to do next, following orders, sticking to a game plan. he expresses himself mainly through acts of service in canon, particularly to family as we see with his mom in the hospital and when he leaves his wife and daughter behind to go try and put a stop to the war that's coming. he wants to help, he wants to keep everyone safe and the only way he really knows how to do that is to fight.
i'd also say that while jesse and caleb are both highly empathetic and sensitive to the feelings of others, caleb is more stoic about it. i'm not totally sure if that's just how he is naturally or if he's so wracked and troubled by traumatic experiences and was trained to swallow those emotions in the military or otherwise learned to shut down but like. where jesse is always emoting something and never just sitting completely still and blank, caleb seems more comfortable with staying quiet and not always necessarily showing what's on his mind at a given moment.
and there are or course many more things i can say about specific differences but i feel like i've made this post long enough and gone on a scattered tangent so like. i might explore it way more in depth at a later date. ❤️
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thechaosoflonging · 1 year
Text
cute tings my besfwen did on dis trip tog w me 2 den haag & s-hortengobosch
he’s da only one who can see thru my facade of being happi in isolation & he told me dat i was rly sad acc n i had a huge self identity/personal crisis n cried for an hour in da hotel room. & realised i didn’t wanna 2 live like dis
couldn’t meet me at da airport saur said he’ll pay for a taxi 2 my gaff
bought me my ov chip card as a reign of passage of me being a local in da dam (2 pay me back for my taxi)
changed his bedsheets for me at my request
let me keep my stuff here & kept a drawer for me
peeled an orange for me & gave me a bit of choco da next morning for bweakfast (it was his fake roomates lmao) + told me 2 use his fake roomate’s body wash if his were empty lmao
would fill himself water n then fill it again for me in da same glass instead of giving me a separate glass
always shares his airpods w me whether it be a podcast or vids on ytb or reddit or music<3
helped me out in da markets when i didn’t have cash & i was able 2 get rly cute cat eye sunglasses bc of him for 10€
helped me w smuller getting me a borger bc it was like a vending machine for food
bought me water in da shops
told me when we arrived in s-hortogenbosch dat it was acc a rly cute town n he felt bad bc he’s sick n didn’t want 2 shit all over my plans
showed me his festival vids/pics & his concert vids
changed my mind abt techno! lofi techno or chill techno or techno where there r vocals is acc nice 2 listen 2 w a fwen
told me 2 stand near sum flowers n took pics of me
had dmc w me l8 at nite
we had a talk abt our relationship n i realised dat he treats me like family. not like a guest. no matter where i go. we’re jus so comfortable w one another bc we’ve known each other for 8 years
told me dat if i got a vocal coach i’d be an amazing singer bc i have a nice voice i jus dunno what 2 do w it along w being saur nasally n vocal fry a lil bit when i sing from my throat. it rly boost my confidence in singing bc all my life i’ve been told 2 shut up but my 2 besfwens r da most supportive of me musically wise
is acc convincing me 2 move 2 NL & 2 move out my gaff
told me i can come over for a week n we can do lots of fun stuffs hehe
told me 2 not be a stranger n dat i was always welcome 2 stay w him n his roommate
told me dat my turquoise dress was gorgeous & dat my tennis dress was v 70’s esque
his fake roommate told me dat he told her abt me working in childcare which means he does talk abt me 2 his fwens
took candid photos of me on da boat & nice photos of me posing
taught me 2 drive da boat. we got stuck in a pond but he got us out of it. & he slowed da boat when there were cute ducks n swans
went 2 an arcade n played ddr w me even doe it was out of his comfort zone
got rly rly rly into taiko drum game w me n we killed da last song n we look to our right n there were a group of 10 ppl (tourists?) outside looking at us n cheering along w us as we finished da song n it was da funniest ting dat has happened 2 me in a long time
dis cute lil tap tap tings on my bare leg/arm while we were listening 2 music n lip synced songs while we vibed tog
haggled da taxi for a round trip for me
got my luggage n stitch for me super fast as i stayed in da taxi
kept reassuring me not 2 worry
carried my water/smoothie/rubbish for me in his side pockets
carried my slippers for me in his bag
told me dat childcare/au pair suits me sm again
told me he acc thought sum of my playlist was p gud
always sat next 2 me on da train even doe his fake ass roommate tagged along w us 2 da market
called me out on my perfectionist standards which i rly needed 2 hear
told me dat he’s gonna invite me 2 stuffs n we can do more tings tog if i stopped bringing my suitcase lmao
took selcas w me on da boat <3
sent me off 2 da airport even doe he had 2 help his fake roommate move out
always sat next 2 me on da train given da option of sitting next 2 me or his fake roommate
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shurisneakers · 3 years
Text
harmless (vii)
Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)
Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit
Word count: 3.4k
A/N: hey shoutout to @ugherik for suggesting a spin on the “A PLATYPUS!??!“ [perry puts his hat on] “PERRY THE PLATYPUS!???” thing. i used it in here, it’s a really small part and probably missable but i tried!! also i like the next chapter better than this one, i just wanted to put this here so it doesn’t seem abrupt <3333
here’s
my ko-fi
if you’d like to support my writing <333
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Previous Part || Series Masterlist
Bucky can’t stop staring at the mirror.
He wishes it was for narcissistic purposes. He had enough reason for it to be. His age may be a hundred but he had the youthful exuberance of a very drained sixty year old.
But no, it wasn’t because of the steel cut jawline or thousand gigawatt smile.
After last week’s mini-spiral, he does what almost half the videos on TikTok warn him not to do.  
He got a haircut.
Everyone’s reaction stopped him from following it up with an ear piercing, but he can’t confidently say he didn’t at least consider it once. Maybe a neck tattoo. 
He pulls at a lock of hair. It’s not even longer than his finger.
What did he do-
“It’s just a haircut, man,” he says to no one in particular, almost like he’s trying to reassure himself.
He runs his hands through his hair. It takes lesser time than he was used to.
Steve had told him he looked good. But then again, Steve wore a fugly costume 90% of the time, what did he know?
Clint acknowledged it and didn’t outright call him ugly, which he supposed was a compliment. Wanda simply smiled at him.
“FRIDAY?” he reaches out.
“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” comes the automated reply.
“How are you?” It took him some getting used to her, given that she was constantly listening to everything, and in general seemed to go against the universal idea of privacy. 
But his therapist told him he needed to form friendships. 
She didn’t mention it had to be human ones.
“As good as ever. Is there anything I can help you with?”
He wants to ask her what she thinks of his hair until he realises fashion advice from a faceless AI is a new low for him. Maybe ‘Do you think I should crawl into a pit and die?’ would be more appropriate. 
“Never mind,” he dismisses instead. “Any messages for today?”
“A reminder to buy a harder bed because you can’t keep sleeping on the floor.” Ah, that was on Sam’s recommendation three months ago, but he wasn’t going to stop any time soon. “And a text from a contact named Nuisance saying to meet them at the attached location in thirty minutes.”
“Where is the location?”
“The local sports centre.”
“Isn’t that closed today?” 
If he had to go out in public looking like this, maybe he could wear a cap and sunglasses and no one would recognise him. Unfortunately, as he was reminded several times before by anyone with an iota of common sense, it was a stupid disguise. 
Beanie it was, then. Bare minimum. 
“It is, yes.” Fewer citizens to worry about.
“Okay.” He hesitates in front of the mirror again, adjusting the hat on his head. “Thank you, FRIDAY.”
“You’re welcome, Sergeant.”
He stares at the little tuft of hair at the front that refused to stay down no matter how much he shoved it back.
“Come on, man,” he exhales in slight despair. “Whatever.”
____
The lock of the door leading to the pool is easy enough to pick. He can see how you got in without a hitch even though it was closed. 
The deck around the pool was absolutely drenched in water. No one was using it, there was no reason for water to splash out unless it was deliberately kept like this.
He catches sight of you easily, being that you’re the only two people there. You were standing at the end of the hall, head ducked as you scrolled through your phone.
The door closes behind him with a soft thud.
You don’t look up from your mobile when you start talking, “What do you think 6 year olds like?”
Because James Barnes, carbon dated to 1917 and therefore certified young person, would definitely know the answer to this question.
“I don’t know. Lego?”
“Just how much money do you think a teacher makes-”
You stopped mid-sentence, finally lifting your head to catch his eye. He stares back at you, steps faltering when you don’t move.
"Who are you?" you squinted.
What
"It's me," Bucky says, tugging off the dumb beanie and using it to gesture vaguely towards himself. Fuck, he shouldn’t have worn it, it was ridiculous anyway-
"You sound like him..." You narrow your eyes. “You don't look like him.”
Great
He rolls his eyes before putting on a mock scowl. Can't have Bucky Barnes without a sense of eternal disgruntlement.
"Oh hey, that is you." You grin. "You got a haircut."
“I did.” He suddenly feels the awkwardness increase. His fingers fidget with the beanie.
“Nice.” You nod in acknowledgement.
He wants to hit himself at the words that just spill out before he could think about it. “You hate it.”
“I never said that,” you snort. “And since when does my opinion matter?”
“It doesn’t.” But now he wants to know what you think since he didn’t trust anyone else to tell him honestly.
“Must cut down on time in the shower, huh?”
It did.
He shrugs. He shoves the beanie into his back pocket.
“Was it a crisis haircut?” How did you kno- “Are you going to get bangs next time?”
“Shut up,” he says lamely, a dull burn in his cheeks. 
“I know a place where you can get hair dye for cheap. Not technically FDA approved, but I think purple streaks are a good place to start-”
“What are we doing here?” he interrupts, sighing.
“Skinny dipping. Take off your shirt, Barnes.” 
“Funny,” he says dryly, eyeing your shoes when you straighten up.
Ice skates.
“Fine, pants then.” You don’t make any effort to move from your end so he does, walking closer to you. 
“What are those for?” He doesn’t hide the annoyance from his voice when he points at your feet.
“Oh, these?” You look down at them. “Yeah, I’m going to freeze the pool.”
That seems... mild compared to the shit show you wanted to do last time.
“For?” He halts where he is. 
“’M gonna take my friends ice skating.”
“Is that all?” He wants to make a comment about the fact that you have friends but bites it back.
“Today is just a trial run. Tomorrow I’m gonna go freeze the East River.” There it is.
“The East River is not your personal ice skating rink.”
“Not yet it isn’t.” You lift up a middle finger.
It was too early for you to flip him off, even by your standards.
He raises an eyebrow.
Your face scrunches in confusion. You follow his gaze to your finger. “Oh yeah, no, that’s a freeze ring.”
Only then he notices a ring around the finger. From where he was standing he could make out the blue stone that adorned it.
“Joy.” He rolls up the sleeves of his black bomber jacket. “Let’s get this done with, then.”
“No no, wait.” You hold up your hand and he complies, having nothing to lose anyway. You pull out your phone and press a few buttons before shoving it back into your bag and tossing it aside.
The soft sounds of a piano start playing from a boombox near the corner of the room. A child starts singing following a series of knocks.
His eyebrows furrow. “What the fuck is this?”
“The Frozen soundtrack.” You beam at him. “I thought it was fitting.”
He doesn’t know what that is and at this point, he’s too afraid to ask. He can vaguely make out the lyrics being about a snowman but he isn’t too concerned.
He takes one step forward. You immediately point your fist at the ground in front of him, forcing him to jump back when a blast hits right in front of his shoes. Suddenly he gets why the floor is covered in water.
It sounds like a series of cracks as the water starts freezing over, a layer of ice now separating him and you.  
"You ready?” The mischief was woven in your voice as the blasts continued throughout the deck, effectively turning the entire floor into ice.
Bucky takes a step tentatively forward. Not bad. He takes another. Okay.
The third one is when shit starts to hit the fan. His hands shoot out to hold onto his balance when his footing slips from beneath him.
His Nike sneakers aren’t used to snow. They’re used to well manicured lawns and pavement trips to Starbucks and marble floors of the compound. Not swimming pool decks covered in ice.
He can hear you singing in the distance and every time he looks up you’re a little further away, making sure every inch of space is frozen.
It takes him a while to get over the initial fear of breaking his skull and just move forward swiftly with short steps. A goddamn penguin is what he looked like.
“There you go, you’re getting it,” you chirp as you whiz past him. He reaches out to grab at you, only to miss by an inch. He staggers, arms flapping wildly to regain his stability.
He hears crackling beside him. He gets a second or two to watch ice crystals spread through the water before turning it completely solid. You step onto the now frozen pool, testing your weight with one leg before cautiously getting on.
A triumphant smile emerges on your face. “Awesome.”
He manages to press himself against the wall as a form of support. 
There is no point to this whole thing. He knows this. It’s been well over 6 weeks and there is genuinely no point to this.
He realises it again when he moves from side to side, body erupting into a waddle. 
Why is he doing this. He doesn’t get paid extra. He doesn’t get any kind of compensation. All he gets is more wisecracking geniuses, embarrassment and the mortifying ordeal of getting caught imitating a penguin.
The song changes to a woman singing about doing something for the first time, forcing him to pay attention to it. He hears something about ball room and balls and tunes right back out.
Bucky manages to find his way to the actual pool since that’s where you’re twirling around, opting to land on his mental arm in case things go wrong. He takes a sliding step forward, followed by another. Maybe he can do this. 
“If a 200 pound super soldier can stand on this, I suppose it’s strong enough,” you muse, watching him slip and slide as he tries to invent makeshift ice skating.
Unfortunately, his method doesn’t have any brakes, so while he’s too busy trying to move forward, there’s no way to actually stop. He finds this out very soon when he almost launches himself off the edge of the pool.
Something yanks him backwards and back onto the ice.  
“Honestly, this is utterly useless since you can’t really do anything but it’s the most fun I’ve had all week,” you admit when he goes sliding towards the middle, arms flailing.
“You had to pick fuckin’ ice of all things.” He thinks that maybe he’s getting a hang of this. He can definitely move faster than what he was doing like, 10 minutes ago. It’s not like you were going anywhere, anyway. 
“I like to keep things spicy.”
He stays where he is to glare at you. You mouth the words to the song, watching his every move whenever it interested you. 
Okay, change of plan; a temporary distraction till he figures out how to actually get the ring from you. He settles on skating towards the edge of the rink slowly, taking a step off, slipping almost immediately when his foot comes in contact with the deck. 
“Where are you going?” you yell over the music initially but immediately break into song when it ends in a crescendo.
He takes a knee, lifting his metal arm up before driving it into the ground. It shatters magnificently, leaving small shards of ice at his disposal. 
He picks up one of them, waiting for you to complete your dumb twirl. He takes aim, and-
“Ouch, what the fuck?” You stop your off key singing to rub your shoulder where the ice hit you.
He wordlessly picks up another piece to throw at you, hitting you squarely in the leg.
“Stop that!”
He may not be able to move as fast but he can definitely throw. 
“Give me the ring,” he commands, stretching his arm behind his back before releasing another piece to hit your forearm. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s nowhere you can skate to avoid his stupidly good marksmanship. 
“You gotta do what you gotta do.” He shrugs, breaking another patch of ice to replenish his ammo. “Hand over the ring.”
“Over my dead body,” you shriek when a particularly big piece lands next to your feet. You knew he missed that shot on purpose.
“I feel like I’m finally acting my age,” he says casually, finding your darting about in order to avoid him more fun than he initially thought. “Can’t throw pebbles at meddling kids so this is the next best option. Thanks.” 
“If you acted your age you’d be in a casket, Barnes,” you hissed, finding that skating in zig zags helped your cause, but not by much. “I’d be- you bitch- I’d be more than happy to help you get there.”
You raise your arm, ready to send another blast to freeze the water that was starting to melt around him, hopefully, keep him where he was if it froze around him. 
He flinches. You notice immediately, hand dropping slightly when you realise what it looked like.
“I’m not gonna freeze you,” you say, softer than you intended. From what you knew, he had enough and more experience with that and you weren’t going to contribute to it. 
He swallows thickly, giving himself a little shake of his head as if to jolt him out of his train of thought. 
Another piece of ice hits you in the leg. You let out a string of curses at him.
“The more ice you make, the more I have to throw at you, Y/N.” He waits for you to regain your balance when you nearly take a stumble. 
“Shut up, you’re so immature.”
“Remind me whose plan this was again?” No point waiting for you to regain your balance when you fall over only a few seconds later. 
He gathers a few shards in his beanie, tucking it into his belt like a little makeshift rucksack just in case before venturing out on the main rink again. 
It’s more difficult for you to stand without railings to guide you, giving him enough and more time to make his way towards you, staggering and skidding. 
Both of you looked ridiculous. 
“Stay away, fiend.” 
“Ring first.” He holds his hand out in front of you. He even considered pulling you up if you just made things easier.
Next thing he knows he’s on his ass on the ice beside you. 
“I hate you,” he groans, watching as you inch away from him on your knees.
He doesn’t really have any other options so he shoves aside the humiliation and gets on his knees, using his arms to drag him along the ice.
“For the love of Christ, none of us are winning here. Just give me the ring.”
The bitch from the soundtrack sings about letting it go but he won’t. 
“Never,” you shout, sliding away from him as fast as possible. 
You make use of the fact that the top layer of ice is starting to melt, using the ring to freeze it again. His knees and fingers get stuck as the water freezes over but he has super strength. It barely takes him a second to free himself. 
“Great,” he huffs, just settling down on the ice, ignoring the sting of cold that was spreading through his limbs. Running after you wasn’t going to work; he needed a way to get the ring. 
“You won last time, I’m not letting you win again.”
“Are we seriously keeping score?” He watches as you scramble towards the edge.
“No one likes a loser, Bucky.” You use the pool stair railings to pull yourself up.
“Explain why you have friends then.” He can’t help himself this time. 
“Hardy har har.” You roll your eyes. 
He doesn’t make an effort to move. Instead, when you take a step back into the rink, he raises his arm and pummels it into the ice, just to annoy you. 
The ground damn near shakes, pushing you dangerously towards losing your balance again. 
“Are you crazy?” Your arm shoots out in front of you to keep you from falling headfirst. 
“No.” He does it again. This time there’s a crack in the ice. “I’m just very tired.”
“If the ice breaks we’re both gonna be underwater, you moron!”
“Fine by me.” He shrugs. “Freeze it again. I’ll just find different ways to ruin it for you.”
You glare at him. He raises his arm above his head again.
“Fine! Fine, stop.” You eye him as he lowers his arm. 
He reaches for his stash of ice pieces from earlier, throwing one at your shoulder again.
“Boy, I swear if you don’t stop doing that-” you duck when another one comes at you. You had no idea he could be this annoying. 
It suddenly hits him, like a lightbulb going off in his brain. He wipes his hands off on his jacket, getting on all fours before slowly managing to pick himself up again. 
He looks at you, tilting his head slightly like he was studying you.
“What?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing as he starts inching closer towards you. “What are you thinking?”
It’s like watching a newborn deer stumble its way through the world, albeit more gracefully, until he starts picking up speed. The motherfucker was going to mow you down.
The skates are useful but not so much when an extremely determined bumbling oaf is barrelling towards you, his speed beginning to match yours even without equipment. 
You don’t know why you’re running, you don’t know why he’s chasing after you but when you see the end of the pool you take a sharp left only to have him knock right into you, sending you both sprawling.
You land half on top of him, breaking your fall but it doesn’t stop the very loud groan that escapes your mouth. He’s already in the process of sitting up straight, giving you less time to analyse what just happened.
“What the fuck was that for?” you speak through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ acting like the both of us have free healthcare.”
“You refused to give up.”
“So your plan was to tackle me like a quarterback?” You threw your hands up.  
“One part of it.” He drags himself to the edge, away from you. 
“There's more to your monkey brained plan?” He doesn’t look at you. The ice around the pool has more or less melted, letting him gain proper footing on the floor before he stands up. 
“Oh, yeah.” He turns to you. “The other’s a trick I stole from Stark.”
Bucky holds up the ring. Your jaw slightly drops, eyes searching your finger for the now missing piece of tech. 
“Suppose that’s two points for me?” 
You’re impressed. You also want to stab him. So you do the next best thing.
“When I imagined you holding a ring in front of me, the circumstances were very different,” you comment.
“Bye, Y/N.” He spins on his heel, not even giving you a second’s worth of reaction. You found it amusing.
He heads towards the door, clothes all wet. He empties out melted ice water from his beanie before stuffing it into his pocket. Just when he’s about to leave, you remember something. 
Do you mean it genuinely or just because it has an effect on him? 
“Just for the record, Barnes, about your hair-” you call out, earning his attention from over his shoulder. “I think you look really good either way.”
The world may never know. 
You swear you can see the corners of his lips quirk upwards before he turns around again. 
He slips on a block of ice, cursing and clenching on to the door to keep him upright, quickly yanking it open and leaving before he has a chance to embarrass himself further.
Smooth.
Next part
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neuromedical · 2 years
Text
Week 38 of 39!
HOW DID I GET HERE OH MY GOD ONLY ONE MORE WEEK OF MEDICAL SCHOOL
So, maybe you’ve noticed that the week was a bit all over the place for me 😁 I had a little crisis after seeing so many people pass their final exams this week and then I found some fancy-shmancy *perfect* med student instagram accounts and it weirdly got to me - when it never did before. I think it’s mainly because of this frustration, this unshakable need to be finally done. If I had a week more, I would die, I swear to god. This is my limit and reaching it will be the most painful thing in my life. At least it feels like it. This stupid endless school and the stupid endless studying and me knowing nothing and being super unsure about whether I will get the job I want or not.
But anyway! What I should be really worrying about is haematology and endocrinology, as per usual. Those two areas will effectively murder me... Surprisingly, I’m not in too much stress just yet, but I feel like I should be. My revision is far from where it should be and things are starting to blend together a lot. Somehow, I’m calm. I have five days. That’s really not much and without my stress I can barely speed things up.
In better news, my graduation dress arrived! And it fits! (You can get a lil peek of it in the photo below. I might post a photo from graduation later and if not I’ll just post a photo of the dress in full.) Of course, I need to pass this last exam first... to attend graduation... Okay, now I’m mildly stressed, lmao. Oh man, I’m so fed up... I don’t want to study anymore :’)
Let’s hope that once again you have a better weekend than me. My last study weekend of uni. I could be free of this in five days. Oh my god. Someone help me.
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astroninaaa · 3 years
Text
chapter 4 of apologies from the intercom is out now
and i wanted to both advertise the fic again and make a lil thank you message for all the people that helped me with it because this was a hard chapter to write and i considered giving up on it many times so <3 here we go
okay so- apologies is a c!tubbo-centric fic and it’s mainly a character study on how c!tubbo’s trauma affects him and his relationships up until he has a breakdown. there are a lot of c!beeduo and c!cabinetduo bits because- beloveds, and then yeah! here are. some bits of the new chapter. it was my first time writing ranboo pov so it was HARD but i tried
Ranboo was sure no type of land, be it cursed, holy, salted, loved, or blown up, would be able to ever stop the president’s hands. When he closed his eyes, months later, he could still see the rough fingers full of splinters, the chipped nails, the steady movements as he placed block after block, fixed broken structure after broken structure, built building after building from the ground up. Never in his life had he been met with such motivation, such certainty, such love for ruined earth, he was sure of it — if he had, he wouldn’t have been able to forget it.
So the minutes man watched carefully as the president’s hands worked, putting up walls that his citizens relearned to call home, dirt under his short fingernails and messy to-do lists written down his arms. The scars looked like stars painted over careful canvas, an explosion of color underneath bruised skin and loving smiles.
and
The words got caught in his throat. Once again, Ranboo waited. Wilbur breathed in and out slowly, calming himself down.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think it’d feel— like this to talk about.”
Ranboo didn’t answer. Wilbur breathed in and out slowly one more time.
“The second rocket would’ve hit him square in the chest, too, but he put up his hands to try and protect himself. The damage to his right side was worse because his hands covered mostly his left. He died anyway. The blood stayed. So much blood, Ranboo. It— it dripped down the podium. Days after, I’d close my eyes and I’d just see the blood dripping down the podium.”
and
The mansion had been entirely designed to keep heat in and aggressive mobs out, warm rooms and safe staircases making up what had been built to be the perfect home. Michael’s toys were spread around the different bits of the house, child-proof railings and covers and everything of the sort protected every corner, and messily-taken, heart-warming pictures hung on the many walls. Furthermore, every hallway was adorned by different flowers, and Ranboo’s favorite ones stood on the first floor by Tubbo’s office, an intricate vase filled with pink tulips and alliums that brightened the entire area around them. It was a tiny detail, their respective favorite flowers intertwining and interlacing with one another, but it still made the enderman’s hands tremble with delicate contentment. It was always the little things, between the two of them.
:] please read??? please read??? i did my best
now onto the appreciation bit for all the help let’s GO under the cut tho
shoutout to:
@zrenia for beta-reading it oh my god thank you SO MUCH you helped so so so much i can’t thank you enough istg
@michaels-two-dads bro i can’t even START log if it wasn’t for you i don’t think i would’ve finished writing this dksjfsbjf just. the support and your excitement were really big motivators and it was great thank you so so so much i really appreciate you so much + getting closer to you has been really nice :]] i love you thank you
@aistandardcherry CHERRY MY BELOVED. CHERRY MY BELOVED. I LOVE YOU!!!!! I LOVE YOU!!!!!! thank you for keeping up with my bullshit through it all. and for telling me to shut the fuck up when i started to get self-deprecating. you mean so much to me thank you :]
@catastrofhe for just. everything. you liveblogging my writing on discord dms was the highlight of my night last night istg- LMAOOO just. yeah thank you so much. for everything. i love you ig
cadence anon for the excitement and all. love you :]
AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST @doodlebloo who accepted reading the first 3 chapters of apologies when i haven’t even started writing the fourth one and told me it was worth to keep writing it. that was. very lovely of you back then. thank you :]
and quick shoutout to all the people who commented and left nice tags on my first post advertising apologies, specially @manlet-rights-activist, @tubboblr, and @caampalyse. you guys might think your lil comments didn’t matter much but they meant the world to me while i was having a crisis thinking my writing sucked so!!!!!!! JKDSNFKJSDN just. thank you very much :] ye
please read this bullshit chapter i rage-wrote it in the span of a week after procrastinating and writing and deleting for two months i was gonna give up on writing forever and blame writing ranboo pov for it this was STRESSFUL OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
anyways have a good day guys!!! mwah
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adenei · 3 years
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Ch. 1 - How to Win a Witch in 10 Days
AO3 | FFN
Summary: “She’s going to find some unsuspecting wizard, get him to fall for her, and then do all the things that turn men away to get him to break things off! Won’t it be the best way to see what witches do that drives men crazy?” But what happens when the man in question is a blast from Lily Evans's past? A Jily Magical AU based on the romantic comedy "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."
Thursday, Pt. 1
Lily Evans sits down at her desk. It’s a typical Thursday morning at the office of Witch Weekly for the ‘How To’ columnist. Parchment is strewn about everywhere due to a hasty departure the night before, but with a flick of her wand, the papers arrange themselves into neat piles. Satisfied with the restored order, she turns to her magical typewriter and the most recent article that lies next to it: How To Make the Transition from Hogwarts Graduate to Adult.
She smiles at her hard work and hopes that this time Amelia will go for her pitch. A new batch of Hogwarts students graduated last week, and this was the type of information she would have loved to have when she finished her education three years ago. Being a Muggleborn made the transition into life as an independent witch more difficult. There aren’t many resources to help young adults find their way in magical society, and even though she met with Professor McGonagall numerous times about her future, the meetings weren’t as helpful as Lily preferred.
Perhaps this is why Lily lives in a small flat in muggle London and commutes to the office via taxi or apparition to Diagon Alley every day, depending on her mood. She tucks the article safely into a desk drawer before setting about her first task of the day: coming up with new ideas for future articles. Grabbing a blank piece of parchment, Lily begins brainstorming as more how to article ideas begin flitting through her mind.
Lily always knew she wanted to be a writer. The excitement she felt after securing a job at the highly respected go-to magazine for witches was only to be rivaled with receiving her Hogwarts letter at the age of eleven. At least, that’s how she used to feel. Now, she’s stuck in a perpetual wheel of pushing out article after article on how to incorporate the newest beauty, fashion, and health trends that flow into the magical world faster than a Cornish Pixie prison break.
Lily shakes her head as she writes down another idea: How To Secure an Interview for the Job of Your Dreams. She’s sick of all the superficial fluff she’s been writing for the past two years. It’s time for something more.
“Morning!” Alice chirps as she passes Lily’s cubicle.
“Good morning!” Lily gives Alice a warm smile in return.
Alice Fortescue is one of her closest colleagues and friends at the publishing company. That’s the one perk of this job, working with some amazing people.
“Amelia called a staff meeting in thirty minutes. Have you seen Marlene?”
Lily feels as if a bludger has knocked the wind out of her. She was so preoccupied this morning that she didn’t realize her best friend of ten years wasn’t at her desk.
“No, she hasn’t shown up yet,” Lily worries.
Marlene has recently been dumped—again—and she is never one to take a break-up lightly, even if said relationship only lasted a few weeks.
Alice sighs. “I’ll get the coffee, you floo to her place?”
Lily nods and grabs her bag, following Alice toward the exit. She digs a knut out of her purse and places it into the slot before grabbing a handful of floo powder. It’s common courtesy to donate money to replace the office’s stock if you use it for anything other than transportation to or from your residence.
She tosses the powder into the fireplace and steps into the green flames, announcing Marlene’s address in a clear, firm voice. Lily prepares herself for the sensation of the ground dropping out from below her as she free falls into the imaginary slide that transports her where she needs to go. The trip is short, and within seconds she is stepping out of the fireplace into Marlene’s flat.
“Marly? You here?” Lily calls.
Her best friend tiptoes out of the kitchen, still in her dressing gown. She’s carrying a cup of tea close to her face to hide her puffy eyes.
“Oh, Marly, I’m so sorry,” Lily reaches out to comfort her friend with a hug.
Lily takes the cup of tea from her hands and steers Marlene to her bedroom. “I know how hard break-ups can be, but we’ve got a staff meeting in twenty minutes, and I’m not going to let you lose your job over another lousy guy.”
Lily doesn’t notice Marlene crawling back into bed as she busies herself with sifting through outfits in her friend’s closet.
“But what we had was special, Lil! I really thought he was different! He could have been the one!”
“How long were you seeing him?” Lily asks, trying to recall any details of Marlene’s latest fling.
“Only a week,” she pouts.
Lily freezes midway through pulling a dress from the closet. She knows this is Marlene’s M.O. but Lily still can’t help but feel frustrated.
“Marly, really—”
“Don’t! I know what you’re thinking, but he was special, I’m telling you! We even had sex and everything. It was magical. I cried…”
“You what? Marly, tell me it was just a glisten of tears,” Lily wills her friend to say it isn’t as bad as she thinks.
“Oh no, I full-on bawled,” Marlene responds, not even attempting to lie, “told him I loved him, too.”
Lily wishes her best friend is kidding but they have been friends long enough for Lily to know that she’s not. With a silent sigh, Lily switches gears. She realizes she can’t take the sympathetic route anymore. No, Marlene needs tough love. She strolls over to the bed with the outfit in hand and plops down.
“Marlene, I know you’re a hopeless romantic looking for your Prince Charming, but in order to find him, you’re going to have to put yourself together and get back out there. You’re not going to find him wallowing in bed all day. Now come on, you’ve got fifteen minutes to get dressed so we can get to work and not piss off Amelia. Alice is out getting coffee right now.”
Lily yanks back the bedspread, forcing Marlene to get up, albeit begrudgingly.
There, one potential crisis averted for the day.
Ten minutes later, Lily floos back to the office after ensuring Marlene goes first. They run into Alice on their way back to their desks, and there’s just enough time for Alice to dole out the coffees before grabbing their notes and heading down the hall to their boss’s extravagant office.
Amelia Bones is the no-nonsense editor-in-chief of Witch Weekly, who is well respected by her staff. Her office is spacious yet welcoming and not at all like what one might expect. Where a conference table and chairs should be, Amelia has sofas and squashy chairs, similar to the Gryffindor common room. When the writers meet to go over stories for upcoming publications, they gather there. The three girls barely make it in time, taking their seats on the sofa nearest Ms. Bones. It’s the only empty spot left.
Amelia clears her throat. It’s all she needs to do to command the attention of her staff. “Alright, let’s get started everyone. We need to go over assignments for the July issue. Dorcas, what are you thinking this month?”
Dorcas, the office suck-up, bounces up and down in her seat as she lays out her laundry list of articles. “I’ve got an exposé on gilly water with an exclusive interview from a mermaid who says it will help keep you thin, but I haven’t come up with a title yet. And Traveling by Portkey: What to Pack and Not to Pack. Then, I’ve also got an interview set up with Madam Malkin, who details the latest robe trends. Oh! And I almost forgot about my outline of A Look Into a Day in the Life of The Hobgoblins!”
Lily needs to remember to keep her face passive as Dorcas prattles on. Does she do anything besides work? Who has time for four articles? She has to suppress the eye roll that’s threatening when she catches Alice’s glance. It’s evident her friend is sharing the same thoughts.
“Wonderful, wonderful. Lily, what’s our resident How To girl have in store for us this month?”
Here goes nothing…
“Well, actually, I’ve been working on this piece that I think will be a great spin on the How To article. It’s about helping recent Hogwarts graduates find their footing after they finish their seventh year.”
She gauges the room for reception and notices blank stares coming from the entire writing team. Fighting to keep her facial expression passive, Lily chances a glance at her boss, whose opinion is the one that matters most. There’s an uncomfortable churn in her stomach as a result.
Amelia clicks her tongue in a disapproving tone. “Lily, Lily, Lily. How many times do I have to tell you that most of our clientele are in their twenties and thirties? No one is going to want to read something like that! That’s what they have parents and families for! Besides, aren’t the Hogwarts professors supposed to help the young ones with their career choices? That’s not our wheelhouse.”
“But—”
Lily wants to bring up the Muggleborn perspective, but Amelia doesn’t give her the chance.
“Lily, your job is to write the How To column for Witch Weekly, not to help recent grads find their place in this world. I hired you to write fun, upbeat stories that will help witches in all aspects of their lives, and that is what I expect.” Lily’s shoulders droop in disappointment as Amelia wastes no time moving on to her next victim. “Marlene?”
“Oh, um, I—I’m still thinking—” Marlene stutters.
Lily notices Amelia’s hard stare and speaks up on her friend’s behalf.
“Amelia, Marlene’s going through a rough time right now. She got dumped.”
“Oh, no. I’m so sorry, Marlene,” Amelia sympathizes as the rest of the group murmurs their respects to her unfortunate news.
Marlene grimaces as she explains, “Yes, I’m sorry, Amelia. I’ve been taking things a bit hard and haven’t really been eating. It’s just hard to move on when I thought he was—” she hiccups and Lily can tell she’s stifling a sob, “the one.”
“Hmm, yes, that is a predicament, isn’t it?” Amelia agrees before perking up. “Write about it.”
“What?”
“You can make an article out of that, can’t you?” Amelia asks the question as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“N-no! I can’t write about my personal life!” Marlene argues.
“If she won’t, I will,” Dorcas chimes in. She sounds too eager at the prospect of taking on a fifth article.
Amelia’s eyebrows crease as she ponders Dorcas’s proposition. Lily is horrified that Amelia is even considering this and decides to step in.
“Or I can!”
“What?” Marlene looks at her with wide eyes as Amelia trains her narrow gaze on Lily.
“How?” her boss wants to know.
“Well, I—I wouldn’t write about the break-up, per se, since that wouldn’t be a good How To article, but what if I turned it into something different?”
Lily is grasping at straws, trying to come up with something that would prevent her friend’s dirty laundry from being hung out to dry. She finds herself stuttering and stalling until suddenly, an idea pops in her head.
“What if I wrote the opposite of getting dumped? Well, it wouldn’t exactly be the opposite, but I’d find a guy and do all the classic things that women do that drive men away. Instead of trying to win the guy over, I’ll get him to dump me instead. Then readers will know what to do and what not to do.”
Lily watches her boss for any indication that she approves. Amelia’s pensive look quickly turns to a conspiring smile as she points her quill at Lily with a gleam in her eyes.
“That’s brilliant, Lily, absolutely brilliant! You think you can find a man, win him over and get him to dump you?”
“Well, when you put it that way…” Lily doesn’t appreciate her boss’s insinuation that she’d be easy to break up with, but if it gets Amelia off Marlene’s back, she’ll take it.
“I can see it now. We’ll call it How To Lose a Guy in Ten Days.”
Lily is relieved, having succeeded in giving Marlene extra time to come up with a story, but the timeframe concerns her.
“Um, Amelia...why ten days?”
“Because we have to publish in eleven.”
She says this as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And it’s only after Lily processes Amelia’s words that she realizes how impossible it all seems. She hasn’t dated anyone in a while. No one is even on her radar to date.
Looks like my Thursday is now going to be spent looking for an unsuspecting suitor.
Lily stifles a sigh as she attempts to focus on the rest of the meeting, but her mind has other plans. She fixates on whether or not she’ll be able to pull this off. It seems impossible, but she has no choice. She has to at least try.
As they exit the meeting, Lily, Alice, and Marlene are trailing behind Amelia, who is on her way to fetch her next appointment.
“If I’m going to pull this off, I need to find a guy tonight,” Lily expresses to her friends.
“Don’t worry, we’ll help!” Alice reassures her. “Let’s go to that swanky bar after work. The prospect of this article calls for a finer crowd.”
“Abbott's?” Lily shoots an incredulous look at her friend.
At first, she wants to protest, but Alice has a point. Lily needs to dupe a guy who’s not just out for a one-night stand, and there are no promises that she’ll be able to find that at the Leaky. No, she needs to glam up and go all-out to find a guy. One that shows promise, but not too much promise because she can’t let herself fall for him anyway.
Her thoughts are cut off as Alice and Marlene both stop, causing her to stumble into them. She looks up to see the source of their delay. Amelia has reached her destination, which happens to be directly in front of them as she greets two women. Lily isn’t quite sure why they didn’t swerve and continue around them.
“...Ah, Narcissa, Andromeda, it’s so nice to meet you! Come with me to my office so we can discuss the ads for this issue. I’m hoping you can help us spice up our pages through your clientele.” Amelia turns and sees Lily and her colleagues standing there. A friendly smile crosses her face as the three realize they’ve been caught eavesdropping and scurry to get back to their cubicles.
Lily returns the smile and looks to the two women to see the blonde eyeing her, a sense of intrigue dancing in her eyes. She wonders what that’s about.
“Aren’t you the How To girl?” the blonde asks.
Lily’s not sure what she’s expecting the woman to say, but it’s not that. It takes her a moment to respond.
“Um, yes. It’s Lily, Lily Evans. Nice to meet you.”
Lily doesn’t bother to extend a polite hand because of the blonde’s now scrutinizing gaze. She’s ready to turn and walk away before the awkward conversation can continue, but Amelia stops in her tracks.
“Yes! Lily is wonderful, isn’t she? She’s just about to start on her newest article: How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days. Doesn’t it sound exciting?”
The darker haired woman raises an eyebrow. “It does. What does that entail?”
Lily opens her mouth to speak, but Amelia cuts her off again. “She’s going to find some unsuspecting wizard, get him to fall for her, and then do all the things that turn men away to get him to break things off! Won’t it be the best way to see what witches do that drives men crazy?”
“That does sound interesting,” the blonde responds.
“Yes, fascinating,” agrees the brunette in a bored tone.
Lily doesn’t appreciate their judgemental stares and chooses to dismiss herself. “Thanks. It was nice meeting you,” she lies as she continues on toward her office.
The day is young, but she no longer has time to waste. She needs to develop her plan before setting out to find a wizard later in the evening. This is turning out to be the most peculiar assignment yet, but if Lily can pull it off, then maybe Amelia will give her a chance on the other articles she has in her queue.
You’ve got this, Evans. Now get to work.
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friendandphoe · 4 years
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okay the formatting on this is gonna be a lil weird bUT!! have this figuring it out/something to last revamp that’s been sitting in my brain for the last few weeks @ahbonjour @museumlad @creativeskull95
There’s no way in hell she’s ever looking Professor Keelson in the eye again. “I’m sorry,” she croaks for the thousandth time, and finds a tissue being pressed into her hand.
“Quite alright, my dear,” Professor Keelson says soothingly, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded over his round belly. “Wipe your face, now, there you go. I’m — well.” And he rubs the bridge of his nose, just under his round wire glasses. “I can’t say I wasn’t expecting this, unfortunately.”
She nods numbly, ice trickling down her spine.
You ruined everything.
“I’m sorry,” she tries again, because it’s all she can think to say, but the professor waves her off with a weathered hand and pushes himself to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane as he makes his way to the mini fridge he keeps under the bookshelves.
“Now, now,” he says, almost scolding, and pulls out a clementine, a bar of chocolate, and a bottle of water. “Don’t you start that with me, Ms. Ochoa. This is not the first time I’ve had students crying in my office, I daresay it won’t be the last.” And he sits heavily back down in his chair, setting the snacks in front of her. “Eat, drink. Now, I won’t press on what’s been troubling you, but you know, these tired old eyes of mine do still catch a few things here and there, and I have seen you — well. I don’t like to use the word struggling, but you know, perhaps it is a bit more apt than anything else I could think of.” And she knows he’s looking at her, knows those beady black eyes well, but just focuses on unwrapping the chocolate bar as quietly as she can.
What makes you think we want you around?
“You’ve had a rough time of it, this year.”
It’s not a question, but she still finds herself nodding confirmation. “I don’t know what happened.” She says hoarsely, and reaches for the water bottle.
Leave us alone.
“I’ve been wanting this for years, I worked so hard to get into this program, I just—” and she has to press her mouth shut to keep the lump in her throat from escaping.
Leave us alone!
“Some… stuff. Uh, came up, I guess.”
They sit in silence for a minute, then softly: “The human mind is a wonderful, confusing little thing.” Professor Keelson says. She dares a glance up at him, finds him — thank god — staring out his office window. “It tends to block out anything unpleasant we might not want to hear, and often that negativity will build and build and build until, one day, the weight becomes too much to bear.” He sighs and scrubs a hand through his short white beard, messing the hairs out of their orderly style. “And then we must face the unfortunate truth that sometimes what we thought we wanted is, in actuality, not at all the path we should be taking."
She drops her gaze back down to her bouncing knee. “Is it stupid?” She blurts out, watching her leg blur under her rising tears. “I just — this is a good school, a good program, and I’ll have so many job opportunities when I graduate—”
A weathered hand stretches out across the desk, just reaching to where her pinky would've been. “And yet,” Professor Keelson murmurs. “It won’t make you happy.” He sits back in his chair, looking every inch the benevolent Santa Claus his students know him to be. “And given how miserable you’ve been this year, Ms. Ochoa, I daresay your ultimate happiness is worth far more than any graduating job offers.” His smile drops for a half-second. “Though I can’t say I won’t be sorry to see you go. You’re already one of my best students, you know.”
You're an embarrassment to my name and reputation.
A wet little giggle chokes out of her throat, and she wipes down her face one more time. “Don’t tempt me, I’m half-considering staying,” she admits. “Even with all of this.”
“Ah, but if you do, what sort of state will you be in once you graduate?” Professor Keelson says, raising a bushy brow. “All you young folk are the same. You’re young, you have that wonderful, limitless energy, but you must learn to take care of yourselves now, while you have the space to do so. Won’t do you any good to drive yourselves into the ground every night when you’re my age, you know!” He looks at her appraisingly, then smiles wide. “And you know, my dear, there’s great strength in being able to admit you were wrong. I’ve always admired people who are strong enough to chase their dreams instead of following the easy path. Do you have an idea where you’re going, yet?”
Don’t ever come back here, you little— 
“There’s a performing and visual arts conservatory,” she says hesitantly. “River Park, downstate. They’ve got really good photography and filmmaking programs, and, um.” She pauses, unsure how to explain how right it had all felt when she’d been reading about it online. “Well, I have an interview on Wednesday, so.”
Professor Keelson’s smile widens. “River Park! My partner studied illustration there, years ago when we were both young. You’ll do wonderfully.”
She can’t help but feel like his faith is ever-so-slightly misplaced —
I didn't want you.
— maybe it’s just the existential crisis talking, who knows —
Do you understand me?
— but she can’t quite bring herself to argue against the sparkling excitement in the professor’s eyes. She lets him press another chocolate bar and tissue combo into her hand as he shuffles her out of his office, with strict, cheerful instructions to come see him before she leaves for her interview.
You were a mistake.
Tuesday night comes in the blink of an eye; she’d barely dumped her meager wardrobe back into the suitcase she’d kept under her bed and her sticky notes are still haphazardly slapped to the wall above her desk. She’s not exactly sure where the time went — it’s not like she went to any classes. Or ate much. Or was sleeping, really. Granted she did try, but the third time in the same night she woke up sobbing because her blankets had twisted around her leg, trapping her in an all-too-familiar heat vortex—
window won't break it's too hot it hurts to breathe window won't break it's so fucking hot she can't think window won't break but it'll slide get out of this goddamn heat get out get out crunch fuck ow hurts hurts ow fuck hurts her toes shouldn't be ow fuck fuck fuck pointing that way hurts hurts fucking hurts can't feel her knee fuck fuck where's papá—
— she kind of gave up. She doesn't even bother pulling out her shitty, half-broken headphones to try and watch something on Netflix to try and pass the time, she just lays in bed and listens to Rebecca softly snoring five feet away. The ceiling is infinitely more interesting than anything else she could’ve been focusing on, anyway.
Except maybe her portfolio. Which. She hasn’t really. Looked at.
She’s so fucked.
Still, she drags herself out of bed nice and early at 7 am Wednesday morning, beating her alarm by the customary 4 minutes, and actually manages to gather the energy to sift through her remaining clothes to dig out something — well. She doesn’t really have anything “nice,” per say, but she does have an oversized sweater that’ll pass as a dress once she puts on some makeup and a belt and ties her hair up, and that’ll have to be good enough.
You show up to my door looking like that?
River Park is going to laugh her right out the door.
Everything she might need is already shoved unceremoniously into her backpack — wallet, keys, wrist brace, student ID, laptop, flash drive (in its place of honor in the tiny pocket), knee brace, fruit snacks, water bottle — but her eye catches on her DLSR just as she’s finished tying the laces on her most comfortable boot, and she hesitates. She hasn’t really looked at her portfolio much recently — she knows she’s got some old pictures from Manhattan, and maybe some from various campus events that might be good, but it’s been a little hard to go out and take nice shots when she’s been drowning in depression soup for the past four months. Four years. Whatever. Either way, she doesn’t have much to show for herself, and inspiration hasn’t really hit lately.
But River Park is — well, she has no idea, really, she hasn’t seen it in person yet, but the photos online are gorgeous, all glass-and-brick buildings framed by forests and gardens. Very much a college town, from what she can tell, the campus map isn’t really a map so much as a general directory pointing out which buildings were associated with the conservatory, but there was something that felt weirdly homey about seeing those pictures. Maybe it was the layout of the buildings, maybe it was the way they described their classes and professors, maybe it was just the simple fact that everyone in those pictures was genuinely smiling, but she’d gotten this weird, longing ache just below her collarbone that had made her close down all her other college-related tabs and email River Park’s photography and filmmaking department.
Something feels good about that campus. And maybe, if she gets there a little early, she can—
You don't get to come into my life and — and ruin everything I have here.
It’s only seven forty-two. Her interview’s not until one, and the train ride downstate should only take an hour. She’s got time.
Which is how she finds herself knocking on Professor Keelson’s office door, DLSR hanging around her neck, about two hours earlier than she’d been intending to be there, praying to who and whatever might be listening that he’s actually in and she didn’t just horribly fuck this up like she’s been fucking up, oh, who’s to say, just about everything she touches these past few months.
You’re not a part of this family. You never will be.
“Come in, come in!” She hears just beyond the door, and she cautiously peeks in to find the wizened old professor crouching over his printer, staring at it suspiciously as it slowly spits out some document. “Hello, dear. Wasn’t expecting you this early!”
I think you should leave.
“Sorry,” she manages, hovering in the doorway. “I just — change of plans.”
Professor Keelson nods, collects his papers, and creaks over to his desk. “Yes, very good.” he agrees, shuffling the papers into two piles. “Take a seat, I promise I won’t keep you very long. You look nice, by the way.”
She sits, already relaxing in the warm familiarity of Professor Keelson’s overstuffed office. Maybe this is why he’d wanted her to visit before she went, just to make sure she wouldn’t vomit on the interviewers. “Thank you, sir.”
“You’re very welcome. Now,” he says, stuffing one pile of papers into a folder. “These are all your important documents: transcripts, transferable credits, disability accommodations, et cetera. Pardon my overstepping, but you did seem a little, ah, frazzled, shall we say? Last you came to speak with me and I was almost positive that you wouldn’t have thought of pulling the paperwork together.”
Which is absolutely true, she hadn’t, and she can’t even bring herself to feel insulted that he’d assumed she wouldn’t. “Thank you very much,” she says, trying desperately to seem calm and cool and collected and not crush her very expensive, very precious camera in her white-knuckle grip.
A mess. You're a mess.
Professor Keelson’s face crinkles into a smile. “You’re very welcome. You’ll be happy to know that, since you’ve already completed all your core classes and general requirements, all of those credits will easily transfer between the schools. There may be a class or two you’ll have to make up, but you should be able to jump right in with your major-specific classes. Now, this,” he says, folding the other papers into an envelope. “Is your letter of recommendation. I’ll put it in the folder with everything else, but I wanted you to know that you had it.”
Oh, fuck, she might start crying again. “Professor—” she starts, but he’s already slid the folder across the desk to her.
“Ms. Ochoa, if I may.” Her mouth snaps shut, and he continues: “Our time together has been short, yes, but you have been one of my favorite students to ever come through these doors. Barring your obvious intelligence, passion, and work ethic, you’re also relentlessly kind, despite everything you’ve gone through.” His gaze fixes on her cheek for the briefest of moments, tracing over the lumps and bumps of her scars, but his eyes are as soft as they’ve ever been. “I don’t presume to know your history, but I know bits of your present, and the person I’ve seen would make a valuable asset to any school she goes to. If you approach your new classes and projects with as much determination as you did mine, I’ve no doubt your new instructors will be as proud of you as I am. I let them know as much.”
 ...
She numbly takes the folder, desperately blinking back tears. “Th-thank you, sir.” She manages, thick in the back of her throat. “I-I’ll do my best.”
Professor Keelson takes up his customary position, hands laced neatly over his belly. “You will.” He agrees, smiling. “Now, you should be heading out soon. I’d hate to make you miss your train, especially if you want to get there early.”
“Yes — yes.” And she gets up on autopilot, sliding the folder into her backpack as carefully as she can manage. “Thank you. Thank you so much, professor, I can’t — I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
She’s halfway out the door when she hears him call: “Ms. Ochoa, one more thing?”
She turns.
The professor smiles benevolently at her from his chair. “Don’t give up on yourself before you’ve even gotten started.”
And with that, she’s on her way.
Get out.
So, update: maybe deciding to take her portfolio pictures on her way to her college interview was a stupid idea, but to be fair, a lot of her stupid ideas have worked out pretty decently before, so. It’s fine.
Probably.
She definitely doesn’t almost miss the train by snapping shots of the mostly-empty station, but in her defense, the morning fog hadn't quite dissipated yet, and the spooky air of possibility that the tracks had been extending and disappearing into was just begging to be captured. And she absolutely doesn’t continually hop seats throughout the hour-long ride to get different angles of the seats, the blurry towns and roads whizzing past, or even a couple of self-portraits here and there. It’s not like there are people around for her to bother, anyway, so it’s fine. (Probably.) It’s a little hard getting a satisfyingly dramatic shot of her staring out the window, but she thinks the one where they’re passing through a tunnel and she’s locked eyes with her shadowy reflection might be a winner. She won’t really know until she opens them up on her computer, which will probably end up being just before the interview, with her luck, so. Who knows, she might just be wasting her time and battery life.
It’s the most fun she’s had in a while, though.
And. Fuck, maybe it makes no sense, but she's still got that feeling in her chest. It's creeping up to her ponytail, at this point, tugging on the ends of her curls, ordering her to pay attention.
Capture this.
It's important.
Last time she felt like that, she won an award, so. Y'know. Fuck her if she's going to ignore it.
She cuts herself off when there’s ten minutes left in the journey, just to be sure she’s not scrambling to put herself together as she’s pulling up to the station, but ten minutes, it turns out, is both much longer and much shorter than she thought it’d be. Just enough time to run down the list of all the possible ways this could (and would) go wrong, but not enough to steady her racing heart before the train’s slowing down.
You're delusional. This isn't one of your little fairy tales. This is — it's not going to happen.
Don’t give up on yourself before you’ve even gotten started, she remembers, taking one last breath to steel herself, and swings herself up onto her feet and out the doors.
The station is nice enough, but not terribly different from the one she’d started in besides being a little cleaner, so she shoulders her backpack and makes her way down the stairs and into the town proper.
Which.
Wow.
Maybe it’s just a seasonal thing, maybe not, but all the buildings she can see are draped with hanging lights, and even the curving street lights have extra strands hanging over the sidewalks. She almost wishes she’d scheduled her interview later in the day, just to be able to get a shot of those lights against the dark sky, but contents herself with snapping pictures of the incredibly aesthetic sidewalk and shops. She spots an art supply store with a cheerful blue door sandwiched between a movie theater and an apartment complex that frames up nicely, and there’s a coffee shop with swirling, festive winter-y designs painted on the window with pots of poinsettias framing the corners that’s a — no pun intended — picture-perfect paragon of coziness. She stops maybe a little too long to zoom in on the red leaves and flawless paint, making sure to keep the actual inside of the shop out of focus, because as cute as the beanbags and mismatched armchairs are, she doesn’t really feel like going in to ask if it’s alright for her to take pictures of the small handful of people both in front of and behind the counter.
One last shot of the poinsettias and she moves on, turning her lens to the last few, dying flowers in their garden beds, then to the display window of a bookstore that proudly announces its support of the LGBT community with various painted flags, then to the churning river that cuts through the town and the elegant bridge that arcs proudly above it.
There’s not a lot of people walking around right now, but she can definitely see kids around her age up the street, chatting and laughing amongst themselves as their breath puffs out in front of them. A cute dog bounces over to say hello before its owner tugs it away with a sheepish smile, and even without their leaves, the trees interspersed along the sidewalk stand tall, proud, and lovely.
She’s got that weird ache in her chest again — stronger this time — that indiscernible pull that draws her to stay, and she puts her camera down, puffing out a shaky breath.
What made you think we want you here?
“It doesn’t matter.” She tells herself sternly, leaning up on the sides of the bridge. “It doesn’t matter unless you get in.”
Speaking of. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, fully intending to double check the email she’d been sent with instructions on where to go, but her eye catches on the time.
Twelve forty-six.
So. Maybe not the best idea to go gallivanting around a campus she doesn’t know, especially when she has an extremely important interview to get to, but even as she’s scolding herself, she knows the pink flush in her cheeks isn’t just from the cold, and she’s got more energy now than she’s had in months, so.
Worth it.
Thank god E.A. Archer Hall is straightforward enough to find; Google Maps tells her it’s a seven minute walk in a mostly straight line from where she is on the bridge now, which she just about manages even though it’s cold and her stump is starting to ache. The building is emblazoned with the name right on the side, so it’s impossible to miss, but she needs a keycard to get in, and somehow she thinks her current school ID isn’t exactly going to fly here.
But someone, somewhere, is smiling on her, because she’s only just gotten to oh, shit before a tall woman with vitiligo and long box braids strides towards the door, pushing it open.
“Alejandra Ochoa?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she says as smoothly as she can behind her chattering teeth, and the woman smiles.
“You're right on time. Come on in, let's get started."
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moonlitberrry · 4 years
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not so popular
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➀ ᴀ/ɴ: based from what wonho wore last halloween i'll be following in pursuit of this school themed au where he's a football player and you're his best friend off the same year and i won't disclose that you're a nerd in this but be whoever you want. kinda christmas theme actually
➁ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: football player! lee hoseok/wonho x reader
➂ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: fluff, school au
➃ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: none
once the football team opened vacant spots for new comers that's where wonho popped in
he trained a whole lot for this to join the football team and that include:
working out and staying fit
he plays as their new tight end offensive line
you wouldn't worry much about his well-being since he never skips meals or anything just like a couple of people who would prefer protein bars and drinks instead of other food
he uses that but also eats
he healthy boy
always attends practices and would never skip a single one unless there's an emergency
have grown popular in the football team quickly after one game
he was really nervous in playing in their first game like,
he can't focus and kept jumping like a lil bunny all around, trying to convince himself
"i can do this, i can do this."
"of course you can, hoseok!"
he felt so relieved that you’re always there with him. you’ve always been there with him ever since childhood
the both of you are friends since grade school and have always hanged out in each other’s homes. whenever wonho’s parents were out he always stay in around yours
as usual some people and a few of your friends thought that the both of you were a couple because of how close you are with him
you refused 
you weren’t in a denial but you just saw him as one of your family members, like a brother and everyone respected that
no one from your classes ever decided to push you about your relationship with wonho and you were glad they stopped because it gets annoying when they do
so, you’re comforting wonho and his anxiousness over playing in the field
at first you’re not allowed inside the locker room of the football players until a few of wonho’s teammates, the captain, let you in
you almost resulted to kicking one of them until they let you in but decided against detention than anything else
wonho would flip and ask you how you end up there
once you were by wonho’s side you comforted him and pat his back, telling him you’ll be cheering him on 
he keeps asking questions regarding his worries
“what if i mess up?”
“this is my first game, omg omg. this is my first!”
“oh hoseok, you won’t mess up. you’ve been practicing this all week. kill that game!”
because of your encouragements, it made him more pumped up into playing on the field
his teammates found it impossible to bring his mood up, but somehow you’re able to cheer him up for every crisis he receives
from that day on, wonho’s teammates allow you inside the locker room every time wonho becomes nervous 
ever since wonho’s first game his popularity grew
he became busy over the following years that the both of you hardly even talked to each other
you proposed on talking every night but he’s always tired after practice or hanging out with the guys
he promises to hang out with you, which resulted to movie nights every month 
the both of you scheduled on every friday night of the week but wonho kept canceling your plans with him
he’s very guilty about it
he wants to spend time with you everyday like before, but the both of you grew busy over your academics and school curricular activities 
expect random texts from your boi
to: [ your caller I.D ]
from: hoho
hey! have a great day, don't forget to eat your breakfast. i got you a pancake bunny :D see you then!
when you got downstairs you found oddly shaped pancakes but it cutely formed into a bunny
with whip cream as the tail
because he's whipped for you, get it? :'D ahAHa i need to stop laughing at my own jokes
a cute lil bunny just like him
you never cared how different it looked like, it honestly looks unique and cute making you snap a photo of it and save it for keep sakes
almost everyday whenever he had the time he would always leave little small texts to you which you happily see at any given time of the day
and you text him back the same kind of affection and his heart goes CRAZY
you don't know that yet because the both of you hardly see each other but when he looks at you he has heart eyes
that whipped that you aren't aware of but anyway
you wish you could see him in person somehow
i mean, you do see him in school but he's usually busy with practice so you weren't sure
he also found a new group of friends recently that are not much of your status level
they all seem nice but you're not exactly sure on how to talk to wonho's new friends
somehow you find his name being off and across the campus of how a lot of people thought he was cool and how much a couple of them had a crush on him too
you aren't lying, you also find wonho that way
except for the crush
there is no way you would be crushing on your best friend, that would be awkward to handle
but you did
and you didn't know how to handle it
but one night
FINALLY
you get to hang out with him again after so long and it made the both of you relieved
thanking it all to your holidays break! (happy holidays! :D)
wonho made you pick out the movie for the both of you to watch while he chose the food
ever since then
he NEVER changed
well except for the fact of being really obvious of how much he likes you
would sometimes consult a couple of his friends on how to talk to you about it
and or ask you out
because
i mean he has asked someone out before and you were aware of it until he broke up with them around some year ago
so yes, boi is nervous
what else didn't change from him?
oh yeah, ramen
expect two bowls of ramen that he prepared for the both of you to have
"i. really. love. ramen. owki?"
"aww, more than you love me? ;("
"... but i do love you."
you laughed it off and decided to eat but he was serious though
it made you stop and stare at him like,
wait wait wait
you love who?
"i love you, (y/n)... i really do."
ok so you actually thought he liked someone else and not you
he has a bunch of admirers recently that you can't count how much because THEY'RE A LOT
and wonho is hot so
oh wow look im rhyming
you can't blame them for it but i guess you stole his bunny heart already
for a very long time really
"i actually thought you liked someone else."
"you might think that way but you never failed to cross my mind ever since we were busy. i like talking to you and ever since we were separated like that it made me miss you a whole lot, you know?"
and here you are, gradually melting
honestly, the both of you don't know what to do next but one of you should speak
"i'm so thankful to have this time with you again. so, will you spend it now with your best friend?"
"oh hoseok, not best friend."
"iM nOt yOur fRienD aNymOre??? D:"
"no, but my boyfriend, silly"
"oHhhhh"
this made you laugh at how cute he is
"well in that case ;)"
of course, made the move to kiss you first right on your break with him
had the need to initiate it right when the both of you confessed
"time to watch some sweet holidays flicks to start the day with my favorite person"
"oh, absolutely"
that's not your last kiss though
kisses you a lot lot ever since then
also made a make shift headband where a mistletoe hung
only wears it when the both of you are alone and he can have his sweet time of kissing you,,, under the mistletoe
he just wants your affection, owki?
he just wants all of your loveeee
but wow though, your friends cheering you both for finally getting into a relationship
they thought it was so obvious
that the both of you would like each other at some point
and you guys did ♡
so this is not over guys, i got a little more info as football player wonho aight?
you always come to his games of course and he always asks for a kiss before a game starts
its to boost up his energy and you're just,
"don't you have a lot energy already?"
"pllleeaaaassseee"
he won't stop whining about it
honestly just wants your kisses and your love
and so it became a habit of you kissing him before a game starts
when he looses you give extra affection
when he wins he will take you out somewhere or just host up a lazy date at your place
he always ask for a hug or a kiss every after practice
"babe, i'm home! now how about a-."
"i'll give you a kiss after you shower-."
always sweaty after practice, the sweat of hard work
you only give him a peck on the cheek after he's done with practice but no cuddle until he showers
you would always help him catch up whenever he misses a class or two because of practices where a big game is on
boy lacks a bit of sleep so yes
always remind him to pack extra food and water just in case
sometimes you would do it because he forgets
am i done now? yes yes i am finally done.
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hotpinkhoshi · 5 years
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the pact (4)
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pairing: jinyoung x reader
genre: romance, smut, a lil angst
warnings: explicit sex, cursing, unprotected sex, dirty talk, spanking, orgasm denial
word count: 6.3k
summary: you desperately need to get over your decade-long crush on lim jaebeom, and your close friend jinyoung needs to get over his ex—so the two of you make an arrangement: just sex, no feelings. what could go wrong?
a/n: first of all i hope everyone had a great holiday and a happy new year 😘 i was verrrry busy which is why this update is a bit delayed. thank you guys for being patient with me while i get my shit together! i hope you enjoy this part because i loved writing it. also please check out the playlist i made for parts 1-4 right here :) 
↳ index here
Jinyoung: Y/N Jinyoung: I need you to come over immediately Jinyoung: It’s an emergency
You: what?? what’s wrong??? You: …. You: this isn’t like a sex emergency right
Jinyoung: No. Please just come over.
“What’s wrong? What’s the emergency?” you asked urgently as you slipped inside of Jinyoung’s apartment. 
Jinyoung welcomed you in, and the first thing you noticed was his casual attire—gray joggers, a hunter green hoodie, and a pair of wire rimmed glasses you hadn’t seen him wear since high school. It also looked like he’d just recently gotten out of the shower, judging by the damp locks of hair clinging to his temples.
Funny enough, your own outfit mirrored his. A gray sweatshirt and black joggers. After all, you had been halfway ready for bed by the time he texted you, even though it wasn’t really that late. It was Sunday night, you’d spent all weekend working and you weren’t ashamed to call it a night before ten o’clock. 
“I have… two hours,” Jinyoung started, glancing at his watch and then back at you, “to pack for a week and a half in New York.”
You blinked at him. “You what?”
Jinyoung let out an exasperated sigh and grabbed your hand, tugging you back towards his bedroom. You nearly passed out from shock at the state of disarray that greeted you; suitcase wide open on the floor, piles of clothes everywhere, shampoo bottles laying around haphazardly. Never, in all the years you’d known him, had you seen his room anything but spotless—not even in that shitty third floor walk up he and Jackson lived in before they both got grown up jobs. 
“Why does it look the toiletries aisle threw up all over your room, Jinyoung?” 
Jinyoung, frazzled as you’d ever seen him, ruffled the back of his own hair harshly. “My boss called me an hour ago asking if I’d go to this convention because the girl that was meant to do it got mono. So now I’m flying to New York in four hours.” 
Your eyes lit up as you smacked his chest excitedly. “That’s great!”
He’d mentioned the convention a few times in the last few weeks. He was excited about it, you knew that much, but that was when his responsibility was to organize the event from afar. In your opinion, it sounded like your personal heaven. Thousands of avid book readers came from all over the world, just to share their excitement over books. You couldn’t imagine anything better.
He groaned, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “It’s terrible. You know I hate unexpected surprises, Y/N. What if I screw it up?”
You rolled your eyes. “That’s not going to happen. They probably asked you to do it because they know you’re capable. You’re basically the head of your department, right?”
Jinyoung shrugged modestly. “I mean, yeah. I’ve been in charge of planning the entire thing for the last two months.”
“Exactly. So it’ll be fine—you worry far too much. Now, how can I help with… all of this?” You looked around at the chaos dispersed throughout his bedroom, not sure where to start. 
Jinyoung took in a deep, calming breath, then pointed to the pile of clean clothes on the floor next to the suitcase. “If you can put those clothes in the packing cubes and get them into the suitcase—why are you laughing?”
You covered your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laugh as you sat in front of his pile of clothing. “Nothing. I just… of course you use packing cubes.”
Jinyoung pursed his lips—giving you his trademark unamused look. “Don’t make fun of me, I’m in a crisis.” 
“You’re so dramatic. I swear.” You rolled your eyes at him, lips forming a smirk. “Stop scowling at me and get to packing, mister.” 
Jinyoung mumbled something under his breath, which sounded a lot like not the boss of me, and they’re practical but you couldn’t be too sure. Still, he settled on his bed, picking out items from the massive pile of mini sized hair and skin products and stuffing them into a travel bag. 
Comfortable silence filled the room as you two focused on your separate tasks, but you could practically hear Jinyoung’s racing thoughts from across the room. It was almost annoying how well you could read his emotions, which you chalked up to your many years of friendship. 
But you knew he’d feel better once the daunting task of packing was done with, so you sorted his clothing as he asked. Once the cubes were full of his clothes, folded and organized into his suitcase, you stood from the floor and crawled onto the bed. 
You perched on your knees behind him, leaning your chin onto his shoulder. He smelled nice, you noticed. Like fresh linen. “Are you done yet?”
He grunted, shaking his head as he tossed a bottle of face moisturizer into his bag with more force than necessary.
You hummed, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Can I interest you in a short distraction? Since you’ll be gone for… how long again?” 
Jinyoung didn’t respond, just continued stuffing items into travel sized bags as if he didn’t hear you. You pouted, squeezing him tighter. His entire body was tense, from his shoulders down to his abs. 
“Hey,” you said softly, reaching for his hands to pull them into his lap. “You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?” 
He just lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Just don’t want to screw it up,” he mumbled. 
You sighed and shifted next to him, crawling into his lap to straddle his waist. Reaching for his chin, you lifted his eyes to yours. You would’ve had to be blind not to see how nervous he was about this.
“Hey,” you said again. “That’s not going to happen. Trust me. Remember that time, in college, we both wrote down the wrong date for our European Lit exam and we were completely blindsided when we walked into class? You passed with a 96. You’re great under pressure, Jinyoung. You’re smart, you work hard, and you’re quick on your feet.” 
Jinyoung’s features, ever so slightly, softened as he listened to you. He knew you were right. You had seen him come out on top of so many stressful situations, and you knew this time was no different. 
“What’d you get on that exam? I don’t think you ever told me.” 
You cringed at the memory. The big, fat red marker the teacher had used to scribble your nearly failing grade across your test flashed in your mind. “65. Dad lectured me for about three hours about that one.” 
“Ouch,” Jinyoung began, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. It seemed he was already feeling better. “Maybe I should have tutored you. I could have gotten you some extra credit…” 
Though it was his attempt at trying to sound sexy, it just came off cheesy and you couldn’t help but snort. “You’re lucky you’re really good in bed, because your pillow talk leaves something to be desired.” 
Jinyoung grinned, leaning in to nip at your neck. “Hmm,” he hummed against your skin, hands slipping up the back of your hoodie. “All I heard was really good in bed.”
“Mm,” you tilted your head, allowing him more space to kiss your neck. You didn’t even care about the marks he could leave. “Did I say that? I meant terrible in bed. Like, so bad.” You smiled at the laugh he pressed into your skin.
You shivered as he grazed his fingertips up and down your spine, goosebumps forming wherever he touched. No matter how many times he put his hands on you, it never stopped having such an effect on you. 
The last month, after Bambam’s party, you’d set out three rules for yourself: no cuddling, no sleeping over, and no unnecessary kissing. So far, you’d held your ground. If Jinyoung noticed anything weird, he didn’t show it. Just nodded and walked you to the door each time you chose not to sleep over. 
But the sex was still worth keeping your arrangement. Jinyoung had shown you a side of yourself you weren’t aware of until now, and you couldn’t deny he made you feel desirable in a way that was totally new. You had no hesitation telling him what you wanted or needed in order to feel good—unlike how you’d been in past relationships. 
“So how about that distraction?” you whispered, threading your fingers through Jinyoung’s hair and pushing it away from his face. 
He laughed again. “We don’t have time.” 
You stuck your lip out, pulling back enough to look at him. “Yes we do. I’m not going to see you for almost two weeks, can’t I just… have something to remember you by?” 
Jinyoung glanced at the clock on his wall, then back at you. The clock, then you again. “Alright, fine. You’re lucky you’re really good in bed.”
Your pout turned into a pleased grin. “I know.” 
To shut you up, he reached for your sweatshirt to pull off, throwing the material to the floor. He cursed under his breath when he saw you were completely bare under your hoodie. “God. I swear you live to drive me insane.” 
“Hmm, maybe, maybe not,” you said, as you slipped your hands back into his hair and gave the strands a firm tug. 
“Fuck,” he started, hands squeezing your hips. “Want to come to New York with me? Just curl up in my suitcase?” 
You laughed, hips rolling down against him almost instinctively, craving more contact. “Sounds uncomfortable.” 
“Mm,” he shook his head and leaned in, kissing across your chest. “Don’t know how I’ll live without these.” 
“By ‘these’ do you mean my boobs?” 
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“You’re dumb,” you replied with a laugh, hands traveling down his torso until you could tug his sweatshirt off of him. “I’ll send you a picture every day, just so you don’t miss them too much.” 
Jinyoung flipped you over onto your back, kicking his pile of toiletries out of the way and cringing at the sound of about a thousand lotion bottles falling to the floor. “You’re too good to me.” 
“I know,” you responded, quick to remove his shirt as well, revealing the toned torso you never got sick of seeing. “You’re so lucky to have me.” 
“Something like that,” he said as he looked down at you, eyes shining with desire. His hips were grinding into yours so perfectly, the bulge in his sweats pressing into your center just right. 
Your eyes fell shut as you groaned, only encouraging him to push into you with more force. He could bring you to the edge just like this, and you made a mental note to test that theory someday. Tonight, though, you wanted him inside of you. 
Jinyoung leaned down, closing his mouth around one of your nipples and rolling his tongue over the hardened peak, over and over. You arched into him, wanting more. In a matter of minutes, he’d already reduced you to a pliant mess underneath of him. 
His mouth traveled downwards and more bottles were knocked to the floor, though you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You’d clean up the mess later. He sucked a hickey into your hip as he pulled off your joggers, making you shiver when the cold air hit your skin. 
“The snowmen underwear,” Jinyoung mused, a smirk on his lips. You’d forgotten you had grabbed those from your drawer today--the same pair you’d worn the first night you slept together. At this point, you’d given up trying to always be wearing sexy underwear when you’d see Jinyoung. He truly did not care what you had under your clothes, as he reminded you so many times. 
“Shut up,” you told him, squirming your hips as he stared up at you. 
“They’re cute,” he said, just as he did that first night. “I might rip them off you, though. Wanna fuck you so bad.” He leaned down, licking right up the line of your covered slit. 
You bit back a moan and gripped the sheets underneath of you, already feeling restless with need. 
“It’s a shame we’re tight on time,” he muttered, nose nudging against your clit. “I’d love to spend the whole night between your thighs. Just tasting you, making you crazy…”
You wouldn’t have minded that at all. Jinyoung was a perfectionist, and it was never more apparent than when he had his mouth on you, determined to make you feel good. It was an experience, every single time. 
When he finally pulled your underwear off, he glanced up at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Your panties dangled off his index finger. “Want to give me something to remember you by?” 
You stared down at him, skeptical. “Yes…?” 
Jinyoung sat up on his knees, balling up your underwear and tossing it into his opened suitcase. You gaped up at him, reaching to hit his arm. “Jinyoung! You can’t steal my underwear!” 
He laughed, leaning back down to hover over you. “I didn’t steal them. You said yes. Come on, please?” 
“You’re so weird,” you told him, relenting. As shocked as you were, you couldn’t deny that it was hot, him wanting to take your panties along across the world just to remember you by. Whatever that meant. 
“Shh, tight on time, remember?” he dipped down to kiss you, smiling against your lips and causing you to do the same. 
Your hands roamed his body, trying to memorize the lines and curves of his skin just so that you wouldn’t forget. It would be the longest you’d gone without seeing Jinyoung since you started sleeping together two months ago. At this point, you knew his body better than your own. You were going to miss it. 
“Hey,” you spoke against his lips, pulling away to push his hair away from his eyes. “This is the first time you’ve fucked me with glasses on.” 
“And?” he asked, thick brows pushed together. 
You shrugged. “And I think you look hot. You’re like my sexy, visually impaired teacher.” 
Jinyoung’s eyes narrowed slightly just before he rolled them. “Oh, I see, you think you’re special because you have perfect vision.” 
You grinned up at him. “At least I said you were sexy.” 
He grumbled, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip. “Careful, or you’ll get detention.” 
You stifled a laugh, which further annoyed him. “Sorry. Not funny.” 
Jinyoung hated to be teased, and you knew it, but you couldn’t help getting a kick out of it. You loved that grumpy, unamused frown he threw at you whenever you challenged him. 
“Turn over.” 
You raised your brows, smile dropping from your lips. Oh. He looked down at you, eyes darkening with that familiar lustful glare. Your breath hitched in your chest as you flipped over onto your stomach, laying sideways on the bed with your ankles dangling off one end. 
When you tried to prop yourself up on your elbows, he pressed down onto your shoulders with a light pressure to keep you down. “Face down.” 
A tingle spread down your body, right to your core. What had started as a playful joke was quickly turning into something more, something you’d only fantasized about late at night when you were alone. 
Jinyoung sat on his knees, straddling your thighs, his weight just barely resting on you. Your heart was pounding in anticipation. His fingertips grazed down your back, starting between your shoulder blades until he was brushing against the curve of your lower back. 
“I thought we didn’t have much time?” you asked, turning your head to look back at him with one cheek pressed into his blankets. 
He glared down at you. “Every time you talk back to me, that’s one.” 
You gulped. “One what?” 
He barely hesitated before his hand came down against the center of your ass cheek. You whimpered, pressing your face into the blankets. The sting only lasted for a moment before you felt a pulse of pleasure low in your stomach. 
“Now,” Jinyoung started, his hand massaging the area where he’d just smacked. You took a deep breath in, desperately trying to keep your hips from squirming. “Are you going to be good for me?” 
You nodded vigorously, stealing a glance behind you. The look on his face reminded you of how he’d looked after Bambam’s party, demanding you to touch yourself. A look you’d thought about many, many times since. 
He shocked you when he smacked your ass again, your back arching involuntarily. “Use your words, angel.” 
“Yes! Yes, I’ll be good.” 
You were certain if his hand drifted down the few inches away from your ass to your entrance, he would feel just how wet he’d made you already. 
“Hmm, I’m not sure if I believe you. You don’t always listen. Always trying to make it difficult for me, aren’t you?” 
You shook your head. “N-no. I wanna be good for you, Jinyoung.” 
His tongue ran over his bottom lip slowly, giving you that familiar predatory gaze. “You’re gonna have to prove it to me.” His hands were massaging your ass again, stopping to squeeze the soft flesh every now and then. 
“How?” You asked, fear and arousal blooming in your chest. You knew whatever he had in store for you wouldn’t be easy.
Jinyoung trailed his right hand up your back again, pushing your hair aside so that you could see him without any obstruction. “Don’t come. No matter what.” 
Again, you swallowed hard. You wouldn’t be good at this game and you both knew it. He got you so hot so fast that you could never hold back, which wasn’t usually a problem, until now.
His hand traveled down your back, fingers grazing over the curve of your ass until they slipped down to your entrance. You watched his face, enthralled, as he gathered the wetness that had already dripped out of you and brought it to his lips to taste. You moaned. 
Jinyoung looked down at you, smirking. “Oh, that’s not a good sign. I barely even touched you. Try to control yourself, okay, baby? You can do it.” 
You bit down onto your lip again, nodding at him as you slid your hands up underneath of your head, gripping his blankets. “Okay.” 
When he finally slipped his fingers inside of you, your eyes fell shut. Only two fingers and you could tell you were squeezing around him, your current position doing nothing to give him easier access. 
He began a slow, torturous pace inside of you with his two fingers, scissoring them inside of you every few thrusts. You were whining and moaning into the blankets, your fingernails digging into the fabric. 
“So fucking tight. I wish you could see what I’m seeing right now—it’s heavenly.” 
You pressed your forehead into the blankets, teeth pressed hard into your lower lip as he twisted his fingers, turning his hand so that his thumb could massage your clit. You couldn’t help rolling your hips towards his fingers, wanting him deeper inside. 
“Jinyoung, please...” you whispered. 
“Hm? What was that?” he asked, squeezing your ass with his free hand. “You want more?” 
You opened your eyes to look back at him again and nodded. “Please.” 
The sight of him was enough to have your walls clenching on his fingers again. Eyebrows knitted together, completely focused on fucking into you with the perfect pace. The glasses were really just an added bonus. 
With no warning, he slipped a third finger inside of you.
“Fuck,” you groaned loudly, arching your back and fighting to spread your legs, even though they were caged in by Jinyoung’s thighs. 
This earned you another smack, followed by a gentle caress. 
“You’re not controlling yourself very well, are you, angel?” 
You fought back a sob and shook your head. “No, I’m sorry, I just-” you couldn’t finish your sentence, because Jinyoung had curled his fingers inside of you on his next thrust, pressing into your g-spot. 
Then he did it again. And again. 
You had never tried for anything as hard as you were now, desperately trying to keep your orgasm at bay. Heat spread through your entire body but you fought it, even though it made tears form in the corners of your eyes, even though it felt like you were about to explode. 
Jinyoung was receptive, he knew your body well enough that he knew just how close you were and how much effort you were putting into denying your body what it wanted so badly. 
He finally withdrew his fingers from you, but not without another harsh spank. His hands immediately soothed your skin, gently massaging your flesh as he leaned down over your back, kissing the spot between your shoulder blades.
“Such a good girl. You did so good.” 
You melted under his touch as your orgasm retreated. It had been so close, you wouldn’t have lasted much longer if he’d continued. Your skin burned where his hand had made contact and you knew it would hurt to sit tomorrow. 
“Want to stay like this, baby? Looks like it hurts.” 
You nodded with a pout, unfolding your arms from under your chest and stretching them above your head, relieving some of the tension from clenching the sheets in your fists. 
Jinyoung didn’t waste much time, pushing his sweatpants and underwear to his thighs. He looked hard as a rock, and you cursed the fact that you didn’t have enough time to give him a goodbye blowjob. The sight practically had your mouth watering. 
Then he was scooting up your legs, until the head of his cock nudged in between your thighs. He slid between your flesh a few times easily, as your skin was covered with the juices that had dripped out of you. 
You both let out satisfied moans once he slid inside your heat, already wet and beyond ready for him as you always were. 
Jinyoung leaned over you, bracing his hands on the bed on either side of your shoulders. With the rest of his weight resting on his knees, he rolled his hips towards you, pushing his length inside of you to the hilt. 
“Oh my God,” you moaned. It felt new, this depth that he’d reached inside of you. You leaned up on your forearms to arch yourself to a better angle, hips lifting up slightly. 
You were grateful he wasn’t gentle with you, you couldn’t handle that right now. You needed him, quick and deep, and that’s exactly the pace he began inside of you. The only sound in the room was his skin slapping yours and the desperate, throaty moans and pleas for more, more, more. 
Jinyoung ducked his head down to press kisses to your shoulder. It was the affection you needed, suddenly overwhelmed with the fact that he was leaving you. Only for a week and a half, but at the moment you couldn’t imagine living without him inside of you for one minute. That was how crazy he made you. 
“Jinyoung,” you begged, bending onto your elbow so that you could grip a hold of his arm next to you. Your name fell from his lips in response, over and over. You craned your neck to find his lips for a messy kiss, somewhat awkward from the angle, but it brought you even closer to the edge. 
“Close?” he asked against your lips before pulling away to press kisses against your jaw. You nodded, squeezing his arm tightly until your fingernails dug into his skin. 
Your nerves were on fire as the familiar tension built inside of you, beginning at your rib cage until it spread lower and lower. Jinyoung lowered onto his elbows until his front was pressed to your back, his hips never slowing or relenting. 
“Gonna come,” Jinyoung said with a groan, digging his teeth into the soft skin of your shoulder, the sharp pain sending a wave of electricity right to your clit. 
As the tension in your body snapped, you finally allowed yourself to tip over the edge, made more intense by the sensation of Jinyoung reaching his orgasm as well. Your thighs shook as you took every drop from him, letting him fill you. Your own climax hit you like a ton of bricks, fast and hard, your body quivering underneath of him in waves. 
Your body fell limp under his as you finally relaxed, absolutely exhausted from your orgasm. Jinyoung panted behind you, his lips still kissing your skin and whispering how good you were for him, how you fit him perfectly. You wished you weren’t in a daze, or you would have been able to focus on the husky, fucked out tone of his voice. 
Finally, he rolled off to the side, pulling his sweatpants back up over his hips. You were too worn out to move yet, so you just laid there on your stomach while you heard Jinyoung get up for a washcloth. He was always quick to clean you up and you were eternally grateful, especially now. You were pretty sure he’d just taken years off of your life. 
You let him move you however he needed in order to clean you up, and as Jinyoung tossed the washcloth to the side, he stared down at you with raised brows. 
“You okay?” he asked. You could hear the smirk in his voice. 
“Mm,” you replied, arms unwinding from underneath yourself again to stretch them out, wiggling your fingers. “You just fucked the life out of me. Officially.” 
Jinyoung chuckled, a hand caressing your back as he laid on his side next to you. “Do you think it was the glasses?” he asked as he tucked your hair behind your ear.
You opened your eyes to look at him, your lips spreading into a grin. “Probably.” 
Even though you had a no cuddling rule, and a no unnecessary kissing rule, you didn’t fight it when Jinyoung brought you into his arms and melted your lips together. 
You blamed it on your exhausted state. 
~~~
“Forrest Gump! Forrest Gump!” Sana whisper-shouted, slapping her pencil down on the restaurant table. “Why isn’t anyone listening to me?!” 
“Because you’re wrong,” Yugyeom replied. “It’s Shawshank Redemption.” 
You sat between Bambam and Jackson in the crowded diner booth as Sana and Yugyeom argued across from you. This was how it’d gone all night. It had been Yugyeom’s bright idea to participate in a trivia night instead of your usual movie night for the month and you were quickly regretting it. 
Jinyoung hated trivia games and never wanted to go when it was suggested, which you suspected was because he hated being wrong. Now that he was away on business, you’d decided to give it a try. It had been a mistake.
Yugyeom was, apparently, fiercely competitive, which would have been okay if Sana wasn’t exactly the same way. You wanted to win, sure, but your two friends were starting to get out of hand with their arguing and butting heads. 
“Okay, okay,” you said, trying to get them to simmer down. People had been staring at you all night, clearly bothered by the constant bickering. “Someone just write down an answer because he’s coming around to get our sheets!” 
Yugyeom snatched the pencil from Sana, scribbling down his favored answer just in time for the host to collect your papers. It was the last round, and you had been in first place the last time they’d checked scores. 
“I hope you’re happy,” Sana sneered, crossing her arms. 
“Oh my God, stop,” you told her, slapping her arm lightly. “It’s just a game! And here we thought Jinyoung would be the problem.” 
The familiar fluttering bloomed in your heart as you spoke his name, which you did your best to shove down just as you had for the last five days since Jinyoung had been gone. You tried to convince yourself your body missed him, not you specifically. 
You pulled out your phone as soon as the host announced you were free to do so, scrolling through your texts until you found your message with Jinyoung. You’d been talking a lot this last week. The convention was this weekend, and in New York it was about time for him to be waking up to get ready.
You: so… we decided to go to trivia tonight You: it’s a blood bath in here
Jinyoung: Ugh. Trivia. 
You: yeah yeah. good morning, by the way :)
Jinyoung: Good morning. How was your day? 
You: good. busy, but in a good way You: are you excited for today??
Jinyoung: Excited? No. Prepared? Also no. But I’m ready to just get on with it already. 
You: it’s gonna be so much fun!!! you get to talk about books all day!!!!!
Jinyoung: Ugh. It’s way too early in my day for all those exclamation points
You: soooo dramaticcccccccc
Jinyoung: Hey, be nice to me, I’m nervous
You: okay okay. you’re going to do great today you know
Jinyoung: I’ll do my best. 
You: shhh. it’ll be great. i’ll stay up late tonight in case you need to call me.
Jinyoung: Good. I miss you. 
“Why are you making that face?” Sana asked, snapping you out of your text trance. 
Your head shot up and you looked around with wide eyes. You’d literally forgotten where you were in the last five minutes. 
“Huh? What face?” 
“Are you… blushing?” Sana replied. “Who are you texting?! It better not be-”
“It’s not Jaebeom!” you said, defensively. 
You hadn’t even talked to him since Bambam’s party when you’d left him on the dance floor. You still felt guilty, but couldn’t bring yourself to reach out to him and open that can of worms. 
“Who is it?” 
You brought your phone to your chest, hiding the screen from your friends. Yugyeom looked confused, Bambam looked mildly amused, and Jackson was eating cheese fries. It truly summed up your friendship. 
“No one.” 
A look of hurt flashed in Sana’s eyes. “Why won’t you tell me who it is?” 
You deflated a bit. It had been difficult in more ways than one having to keep your arrangement with Jinyoung a secret from Sana and the rest of your friends. You hated lying, period, but especially to your best friend. 
“Because it’s…” you looked around at the rest of the table, then down at your phone. “It’s not, like… a real thing.”
“She’s texting Jinyoung!”
Your head whipped in Jackson’s direction. He had blurted the words out like word vomit, and now looked as if the weight of the world had lifted from his shoulders. 
“Were you looking at my phone?!” you asked, feeling somewhat violated. 
“No!” he replied. “I’ve known for…” his eyes looked upward as he counted on his fingers. “Six weeks.” 
“Six weeks?! You’ve been dating Jinyoung for six weeks?” Sana asked, her jaw practically dropping to the table. 
You cleared your throat. “Two months. And we’re not dating! We’re just having sex.”
Sana stared blankly at you, not even noticing when the trivia hosts began going over the correct answers. “I knew you were seeing someone, I just thought it was Jaebeom. What… how…?”
“Wait, when did you find out?” you asked Jackson. 
“Well…” he looked down, heaving a deep breath. “At Bambam’s party, he chewed me out in the bathroom for dancing with you and being, you know, touchy. I feared for my life, but also figured something had to be going on for him to get jealous like that. I asked him the next day and he spilled everything.”
You had no idea he’d gotten angry with Jackson. If anything, you’d assumed all his anger had been directed at you. And, besides, you’d settled it later on at his apartment. 
“Hold on,” Yugyeom cut in. “You’re not dating Jinyoung, you’re just sleeping together? Like… friends with benefits?” 
You shrugged. “Yeah. We were both lonely and trying to get over feelings for other people, so we figured…” 
Sana was rubbing her temples, clearly having a tough time coming to terms with this revelation. “Just sleeping together?”
“Yeah. Why is that so hard to believe? People do it all the time.”
“Uh, no. I don’t know anyone that started sleeping with their friend of ten years so they can get over their crush, also of ten years. This is possibly the worst idea you’ve ever had.” 
You furrowed your eyebrows together. “Okay, it’s really not that bad. It’s casual, we're just having fun.”
“Are you telling her that or yourself?” Jackson interrupted. 
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” You held your hands up. “This is exactly why we didn’t tell anyone. We knew you’d all be judgmental and worry that I’m going to get hurt-“
“Maybe you aren’t the one we’re worried about!”
The entire table fell silent, all eyes on Sana. Including the trivia host, who’d just announced that the correct answer to the last question had been Forrest Gump. 
When the chatter started to pick up again and another team was crowned the winner, you shook your head, confused. 
“What do you mean? Why would you be worried about Jinyoung?”
You looked around at your friends, but nobody would meet your eyes. Jackson looked especially tortured, clearly conflicted with his loyalty to you and Jinyoung separately. 
Finally, Sana sighed, relaxing back into her seat. “A few years ago, when you had gone home for your mom’s birthday, we all went out one night. The four of us, Jinyoung, and Yeri. Those two started bickering about an hour in, and Yeri ended up leaving. So Jinyoung got absolutely hammered, and we went to some shady pizza place to sober up. Before we even got our pizza, he told us how he’d liked you since middle school, but was ready to finally give up because you were obsessed with Jaebeom and you’d never see him that way. He vowed to get over you if it was the last thing he did.” 
You could only blink at your friend. It all sounded… not right. How could he have liked you without your knowledge? When had he stopped liking you? It made no sense. 
“But he was with Yeri then,” was all you could say. 
“Yes, he was,” Jackson replied. “And he’d been texting you all night before she got pissed off and left.” 
It had never, not even once, occurred to you that Jinyoung had feelings for you. Certainly not before you started having sex. You’d been friends, and he had never crossed any lines with you, even after he and Yeri broke up. 
“I don’t…” you shook your head, staring down at Jinyoung’s last message. 
I miss you. 
“Listen, I don’t know when he stopped liking you, but this just… doesn’t seem like a good idea.” Sana reached for your hand across the table and gave it a squeeze. “Is it worth risking your friendship?” 
The question had entered your mind more times than you could count in the last two months. But after a while, you’d just gotten used to it. You liked the bubble you lived in, where you could just enjoy the present without worrying about the consequences. 
Your heart felt like it was going to drop into your stomach.
“If it helps,” Bambam said, placing a comforting hand on your wrist. “I was blacked out that night and had no fucking clue until just now.” 
It didn’t help. You just shook your head again, reaching down between your feet for your purse. “I need to go. Sorry. I just need…”
You never finished your sentence. Jackson let you out of the booth and you rushed out of the diner, greeted by the warm summer air. You placed your hand between your ribs, willing your heart to slow its pounding.  
So, he’d liked you. For a while. At least until a few years ago—while he was with Yeri. Why hadn’t he ever said anything? 
Would it have mattered? You had tunnel vision for Jaebeom until this whole arrangement had begun, and you’d never seen Jinyoung in that way before that first night. You knew yourself, you would have let him down easy and continued chasing after Jaebeom. 
You started to walk in the direction of your apartment. It was a long walk, but it was doable. You needed the time to clear your head. 
More puzzle pieces started to fall into place the more you thought about it. 
He and Jaebeom had been so close, like brothers, until you graduated high school. Then Jinyoung started getting a sour look whenever you asked about the other boy and you learned to avoid the topic. 
Yeri had never liked you. It hurt your feelings the entire span of their relationship, because you couldn’t figure out why. If she knew how Jinyoung felt, or even suspected it... of course she wouldn’t like you. 
As much as you wanted to believe it was all a misunderstanding, you couldn’t deny the truth staring you in the face. Jinyoung had liked you for years, and you had no idea. 
You needed to figure out your own heart. You didn’t have feelings for him, you were sure of it. It was just biological—good sex messed with your head, that’s all. 
And yet…
The only thing that made sense was that Jinyoung no longer felt this way about you. He’d decided to get over you, and you knew he accomplished any goal he set his mind to. 
You should have felt relief, but you didn’t. You couldn’t quite identify the sadness in your heart, the utter hollowness at missing something you never knew you could’ve had. 
When you finally got back to your apartment, both your mind and your feet were tired. You dragged yourself to the bathroom, wiping off your makeup and brushing your hair into a ponytail. 
Maybe it was your exhaustion. Maybe you were tired, in general, of holding that barrier up. The one thing separating you from what could either be the best thing that ever happened to you, or soul crushing heartbreak.
As you crawled into bed and pulled your knees up to your chest, you finally let the wall come down and held the feeling that fell into your palms safe and close to your heart like a firefly. Just this once, you recognized the terrifying truth you’d been denying for weeks.
You were falling in love. 
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medicifm · 4 years
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*  not  me  actually  writing  an  intro  the  night  before  like  i  always  mean  to  😳  hennyway  hey  biddies  ,  i'm  chloe  ,  im  in  the  snowy  part  of  pst  ,  &  i  use  she / her  pns  .  i’ve  been  . . . . . . .  scouring  the  tags  for  an  rp  like  this  so  im  so  excited  to  bring  this  newish  muse  of  mine  here  !   im  here to  do  the  honours  of  introducing  my  himbo - on - the outside , manipulative - shit - on - the - inside  . . .  oscar  🤡
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(  twenty  three , cis  man , he / him  ) ✉ ― hey  babes , have  you  met  OSCAR  MEDICI ?  they’re  working  here  as  THE  HEAD  CHEF  AT  LORENZO’S ,  a  few  villas  down  from  where  you’re  staying  .  you  might  hear  them  singing  ALRIGHTY  APHRODITE  BY  PEACH  PIT  playing  from  their  villa  ,  it’s  their  favourite  song  .  yes  ,  they  hear  that  they  look  like  JACK  GILINSKY  a  lot  ,  actually  -  it’s  really  uncanny  .  their  friends  back  home  in  SYDNEY , AUSTRALIA  say  that  if  they  were  on  a  tv  show  ,  their  trope  would  be  THE  WOLF  IN  SHEEP’S  CLOTHING  ,  how  funny  is  that  ? ✎ chloe , 22 , she/her , pst
𝐢  .
pinterest  |  wanted  plots  |  
𝐢𝐢  .
name  :  oscar  gabriel  medici
age  :  twenty  three
dob  /  sign  :  december  4th  ,  1997  /  sagittarius  sun  ,  leo  moon  ,  libra  rising 
pob  :  sydney , australia
gender / pronouns  :  cis  man  &  he / him / his
career :  head  chef  at  lorenzo’s  ,  full - time  heathen  ,  professional  disappointment  for  mothers  everywhere  .
drinking / drugs / smoking :  yes / more  often  than  he’d  admit / never .  
religion  :  jewish  background  ,  currently  non - practicing .
physical  :  jack  gilinsky  fc ,  dark  brown / black  longish  curls  (  reference  )  ,  dark  brown  eyes  ,  canon  jack  g’s  tattoos  ,  no  piercings  ,  6′2″  ,  175  lbs  ,  lean  but  strong  .  tattoos  a  la  canon!jack  ,  pearly  white  smile  that  he  may  . . .  or  may  not  . . .   use  crest  3D  white  strips  weekly  to  maintain  .  lots  of  burns  &  scars  from  kitchen  mishaps  on  his  hands  &  arms  .
traits  :  hard - working  ,  flighty  ,  intelligent  ,  hedonistic  ,  charismatic  ,  intense  ,  volatile  ,  
other  :  speaks  weird  french  (  aussie  accent  tings  )  ,  tans  easily  but  wears  sunscreen  nonetheless  ,  works  hard  parties  harder  ,  can’t  read  a  lick  of  french  but  spends  a  lot  of  his  free  time  with  a  coffee  &  a  new  paperback  ,  has  a  bit  of  an  internal  vendetta  against  rich  people  (  for  no  real  reason  ,  he  just  doesn’t  like  most  of  them  )  ,  has  ins  with  a  bunch  the  local  farmers  &  visits  them  weekly  ,  pretends  he  isn’t  lowkey  addicted  to  nicotine  administered  via  a  puff  bar  ,  liquor  of  preference  is  tequila  or  red  wine  ,  drives  a  lil  vespa  around  town  for  the  gag  of  it  (  loves  seeing  it  haphazardly  parked  amongst  a  bunch  of  luxury  cars  )  ,  
character  inspo  :  jess  mariano  (  gilmore  girls  )  , gordon  ramsey  🤡 ,  patrick verona ( 10 things i hate about you ) , ferris bueller ( ferris bueller’s day off ) , han solo ( star wars ) .
𝐢𝐢𝐢  .
oscar’s  arrival  was  as  unwanted  to  his  parents  as  could  be  :  a  father  whose  tendencies  leaned  towards  alcoholism  &  abusing  whoever  was  in  arms  reach  ,  a  mother  whose  life  was  more  or  less  spent  at  the  nursing  home  she  worked  as  a  nurse  at  ,  evading  home  .  he  became  a  self - inflicted  loner  ,  preferring  to  do  literally  the  exact  opposite  of  what  was  expected  or  wanted  from  him  .  he  had  a  few  friends  he  ran  with  ,  but  watching  them  all  go  off  &  study  or  prepare  for  university  solidified  in  oscar’s  mind  that  the  non - traditional  route  was  for  him  .  growing  up  by  the  water  ,  oscar  always  felt  more  drawn  to  skip  school  &  head  to  the  beach  than  he  did  obeying  his  parents  wishes  .   
one  of  his  solaces  was  his  grandfather  ,  gabriel  ,  who  owned  an  italian  restaurant  in  a  beach  town  north  of  sydney  .  whenever  the  weather  was bad  &  oscar  felt  like  ditching  class  ,  he’d  head  over  to  his  nono’s  restaurant  where  his  ass  would  be  put  to  work  as  soon  as  he  set  eyes  on  the  restaurant  .  it  was  tough  work  ,  but  challenging  in  a  way  that  fanned  the  flames  in  oscar’s  heart  ,  rather  than  dimming  them  .  by  the  time  he was  a  teenager  he  was  working  in  the  restaurant  everyday  after  school  , an  agreement  between  him  &  his  grandfather  framed  on  the  back  wall  that  stated  that  as  long  as  oscar  kept  from  flunking  out  ,  he  was  allowed  to  spend  as  little  or  as  much  time  in  the  kitchen  as  he  pleased .  
his  absolute  defiance  of  anything  traditional  &  following  the  rules  made  him  unpopular  with  adults  ,  but  lowkey  cool  with  the  girls  .  by  the  time  he  was  sixteen  ,  he  was  losing  his  focus  on  the  restaurant  &  his  grades  &  spending  more  &  more  time  chasing  after  girls  .  his  nono  tried  to  get oscar  to  come  back  &  focus  ,  but  as  always  ,  anything  he’s  asked  to  do  quickly  becomes  the  thing  he’s  running  from  the  most  .
tw  :  death  ,  cancer  .  around  his  eighteenth  birthday  ,  his  grandfather  suddenly  fell  ill  with  a  rare  form  of  cancer  that  took  his  life  six  weeks  after  diagnosis  ,  which  rocked  oscar’s  world  .  he  felt  overwhelming  guilt  that  he  hadn’t  spent  more  time  with  his  grandfather  ,  which  manifested  itself  as  oscar  dropping  out  of  school  a  year  shy  of  graduation  to  commit  himself  fully  to  perfecting  his  grandfather’s  techniques  ,  learning  all  of  his  recipes  (  read  :  pouring  over  dozens  of  handwritten  cookbooks )  in  some  failed  attempt  to  get  back  some  time  with  him  .  oscar  hadn’t  been  close  with  his  parents  in  years  ,  more  or  less  seeing  them  as  wardens  of  a  prison  he  wanted  nothing  to  do  with  .  his  grandfather’s  will  left  him  the  deed  to  the  restaurant  ,  with  an  ask  that  oscar  would  promise  to  act  on  whatever  he  felt  called  towards  ,  rather  than  doing  what  others  expected  of  him  .  to  be  candid  ,  this  whole  situation  crushed  him  .
eventually  ,  he  decided  he’d  had  enough  of  the  stifling  community  he’d  grown  up  in  .  he  sold  the  restaurant  to  one  of  the  regulars  ,  a  wealthy  man  who  he’d  come  to  acknowledge  as  somewhat  of  an  uncle  ;  a  safe  pair  of  hands  who  would  treat  his grandfather’s  legacy  with  as  much  passion  &  respect  as  oscar  himself  would  .  so  he  packed  a  bag  ,  texted  his  mom  that  he  was  going  traveling  ,  &  got  on  a  flight  that  evening  .  he  traveled  all  around  -  first  through  central  america  ,  then  through  europe  ,  throughout  asia  &  africa  ,  &  spent  a  few  months  driving  a  van  across  the  continental  united  states  &  canada  for  fun  . 
eventually  ,  he  started  getting  low - ish  on  money  ,  &  decided  to  settle  in  one  of  his  favourite  places  he’d  visited  :  southern  france  .  he  arrived  in  early  2018  ,  taking  on  whatever  menial  tasks  he  could  while  learning  french  until  he  got  a  position  as  a  line  cook  in  an  italian  restaurant  .  a  few  years  later  ,  he’s  made  his  way  up  to  filling  the  head  chef  position  ,  an  honour  he  takes  with  pride  .  he’s  implemented  many  of  his  own  recipes  while  using  flavours  he’s  learned  from  his  travels  ,  with  ingredients  straight  from  local  farmers  .  he’s  earned  the  restaurant  a  two michelin  star  rating  ,  &  is  constantly  striving  for  more  to  get  that  last  star  (  both  for  his  own  ego  as  well  as  a  secret  debt  to  his  grandfather  )  .
𝐢𝐯  .
ok  but  that  vid  where  gordon  puts  two  pieces  of  bread  on  someone’s  head  &  calls  them  an  idiot  sandwich  ?  that’s  oscar  .  intense  as  fuck  in  the  kitchen  ,  &  best  nobody  catch  an  attitude  about  it  bc  he  will  not  hesitate  to  hand  them  their  ass  on  a  silver  platter  .
another  gordon  reference  :  you  know  how  he’s  the  spawn  of  satan with  adults  ,  but  the  sweetest  ,  most  helpul  guy  with  children  ?  that’s  oscar  with  his  staff  vs  people  he  wants  something  from  .  whether  its  to  sleep  with  them  (  usually  his  first  instinct  to  be  fair  )  ,  their  money  or  clout  ,  or  to  get  into  some  wild  adventure  some  random  resort  staff  wouldn’t  dream  of  getting  into  ,  he  can  turn  on  the  charm  whenever  needed  .
can  go  from  absolutely  demoralizing  someone  in  the  kitchen  to  stepping  out  into  the  lounge  to  schmooze  with  his  friends  or  cougars  who  leave  phat  tips  in  0.2  seconds  .  the  speed  at  which  his  mood  can  completely  180  is  one  of  the  seven  world  wonders  (  last  i  checked  )  .
his  love  language  is  absolutely  acts  of  service  .  catch  him  actually  falling  in  love  once  in  a  blue  moon  &  making  it  his  mission  to  cook  her  extravagant  meals  everyday  .  
the  wolf  in  sheep’s  clothing  label  epitomizes  his  nice  ,  helpful  ,  charismatic  exterior  ,  while  ulterior  motives  &  disdain  for  those  who  grew  up  with  more  money  than  he  did  lurk  beneath  the  surface  . 
he  can  be  MEAN  when  someone  fucks  him  over  or  pushes  him  farther  than  he  wants  -  isn’t  afraid  to  go  for  the  low  blows  or  send  someone  home  with  an  identity  crisis  if  it  protects  himself  .
lowkey  alcoholic  but  he’s  not  ready  for  that  conversation  yet  .  he  sees  it  more  as  perks  of  the  location  &  atmosphere  he’s  found  himself  in  .
also  lowkey  falls  in  love  HARD  ,  like  this  man  is  a  closeted  romantic  but  self - sabotages  all  potential  relationships  before  they  can  get  to  that  point  out  of  fear  he’ll  be  unable  to  live  life  of  his  own  volition  (  takes  a  flaky  philophobic  sagittarius  to  know  a  flaky  philophobic  sagittarius  🤡  )  .  has  probably  only  had  a  few  real  relationships  besides  flings  bc  he’s  afraid  .
𝐯  .
check  out  my  wanted  plots  tag  listed  here  ,  as  well  as  my  pinterest  wanted  plots  board  here  .  here   are  some  other  suggestions  hehe  :
best  friend  /  ride  or  die  :  someone  who  knows  about  his  past  ,  keeps  him  grounded  when  he’s  lk  spiraling  &  wants  to  drop  everything  &  flee  to  some  far  flung  corner  of  the  earth  .
actual  relationship  :  it  was  fast - burn  with  deep  feelings  (  not  them  thinking  they’re  soulmates  after  dating  for  a  month  . . .  pete  &  ariana  type  beat  )  but  completely  unrealistic  .  they  have  their  own  life  ,  he’s  pretty  much  tied  to  the  restaurant  ,  not  to  mention  his  lack  of  sharing  anything  about  his  childhood / life  back  home  .  they  loved  &  cared  for  each  other  ,  but  crashed  &  burned  fairly  quickly  because  of  how  idealistic  it  was  .  they  can  either  be  on  bad  or  good  terms  now  .
hateship  with  sexual  tension  😈
summer  flings  !!
fake  boyfriend  :  he  shows  up  on  her  arm  to  her  family’s  events  where  she’s  expected  to  have  a  partner  .  it’s  not  a  real  relationship  ,  but  her  parents  don’t  need  to  know  that  .  he  plays  the  part  &  satisfies  her  parents  beyond  the  bare  minimum  ,  &  in  return  she  invites  him  to  parties  ,  takes  him  out  on  her  family’s  yacht  ,  etc  etc  .  we  luv  some  symbiosis  
i  can  always  use  more  fwbs  hehehe
squad  :  a  group  of  people  who  do  everything  together  ,  have  a  chaotic  group  chat  ,  have  nicknames  for  one  another  ,  are  utd  on  each  other’s  sex  lives  ,  party  all  night  then  show  up  to  brunch  hungover  together  .  
cat  &  mouse  :  someone  he’s  pursuing  who  isn’t  quite  giving  in  ,  &  vice  versa  .  maybe  it’s  been  going  on  a  few  years  ,  everytime  they’re  in  st  tropez  they  have  this  weird  lil  flirtationship  thing  goin  on  until  she  leaves  ,  they  forget  about  one  another  ,  then  pick  it  right  back  up  when  she  returns  .
confidant  :  preferably  someone  from  a  working  class  background  who  understands  his  plight  of  being  a  worker  amongst  people  who  expect  to  be  waited  on  .
enemies  :  they  don’t  like  his  attitude  ,  &  he  doesn’t  like  them  in  return  .  lots  of  eye  rolls  ,  shit  talking  ,  &  tension  between  their  mutual  friends  .
we’re  sleeping  together  but  we  shouldn’t  be  but  that’s  half  the  fun :  for  whatever  reason  they  became  friends  ,  starting  hooking  up  despite  it  not  being  a  good  idea  (  read  :  he’s  exes  with  one  of  her  friends  ,  her  parents  want  her  focused  on  career  ,  they’re  part  of  the  same  friend  group  ,  etc )  . . . but  now  they  can’t  stop  .  lots  of  stolen  glances  across  rooms  ,  squeezing  past  one  another  in  a  crowded  club  just  close  enough  for  a  quick  touch  to  the  back  ,  quietly  leaving  one  another’s  places  the  morning  after  &  playing  dumb  to  anyone  who  asks  . 
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princessdevy03 · 4 years
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Tumblr Exclusive!!!!
Author’s Note: Happy birthday to @anybodihearme! I know it’s late but it’s done. Don’t fight me! I’ll fight you, damnit! 
Birthday Surprise
Kevin leaned his head back and sighed.
The city whipped by outside the window of the Uber Eddy ordered as quickly as the thoughts in his head.
“Rolf has the dogs and Nazz is holding my present from mom...”
“Ed is gonna cut the grass Saturday…”
“Sarah’s gonna make sure the guys at the shop are on schedule…”
“Johnny’s got the shop…”
As the city gave way to the countryside, he closed his eyes to lock away the blue of the sky that reminded him of a certain set of the eyes he hadn’t seen in far too long.
Edd was stuck across the country at his dream job as a director of a biomedical lab in the Pacific Northwest. His and Kevin’s relationship started there because Kevin was stationed at a nearby US Navy base as a Marine, but when Kevin’s dad passed away, he came back home to West Virginia to take over the family auto body shop as his contract was up and decent mechanics jobs were hard to come by without moving down the coast to even more expensive locales.
Edd said they’d make it work, but Kevin was wary.
His career in the Marines took him to Hawaii, Germany, Japan, Korea, Texas, and England.
Every duty station led to new heartbreak as every other guy or girl just couldn’t handle being in a long distant relationship.
Edd was the first who seemed to understand, but he was also the first person that got Kevin to think about life after he couldn’t handle being in the Marine Corps anymore.
The stress of dealing with his PTSD and trying to juggle being a good son, good friend, and a good Marine was tough.
And when romance was involved, his being all in could be the most stressful thing of all.
Edd had always been a bit high strung when it came to how he liked his home to look, how he applied himself to school and work, but his love for his family and friends was easily given as breathing.
So while Kevin would be there with gifts, surprise dates, and mushy compliments, Edd was more likely to suggest getting coffee before spending the day running errands and grabbing a quick bite to eat before Kevin had to be back at the barracks.
But the sudden cross country shift had them rethinking about how to keep the love flowing.
Kevin would send flowers everyday and Edd would call him every night.
Up until about a month ago.
The texts were short, but he’d still get a good morning text and he started sending GrubHub to the shop every Friday with donuts and a box of coffee from Dunkin’.
Kevin would be lying, though, if he said that Edd ignoring his Duo calls didn’t have him feeling some kinda way.
But Edd did suggest that Kevin head up to the dude ranch in the mountains for his birthday to get away from work and his lingering issues with closing his father’s estate.
“I’ll call you when you guys have dinner, and I’ll make something with you and it’ll be like having dinner together,” Edd had said when Kevin finally got a hold of him two weeks ago.
Edd was dressed in his lab coat that looked like it was losing a fight with the chemicals in the lab and he needed a haircut and some sleep if the bags under his eyes were any indication of what he was feeling like at the moment.
Kevin felt a tinge bad that he had a snarky attitude in the texts he had been sending, and Lort his voicemail messages…
Edd’s work was desperately needed in the middle of the current global health crisis they were living in, so he hadn’t been purposely ignoring his man, but he could make time, right?
But with the world being on a tight lockdown, dinner via video call would have to do.
When he got to the ranch, the fresh air had him feeling a bit better.
And the horses…
Growing up, he’d spend at least a week every summer with his whole extended family at the family ranch in Wyoming, so riding horses was second nature to his bike and motorcycle.
When Edd suggested going riding in the Cascades one long weekend, Kevin started falling in love.
Having a long weekend to himself on the beautiful creatures would be just what the doctor ordered.
Eddy knew about this particular ranch from his leadership networking conferences and got Kevin a deal, and let him use his Uber Black membership to get a ride there and back provided Kevin didn’t steal any of the horses.
Once he laid eyes on the black stallion with blue eyes in the field behind his cabin, he knew he was gonna have a hell of a time keeping his promise to keep things on the ranch…
When he walked in the cabin, he was pleasantly surprised to see a shoebox on the bed of his favorite brand of riding boots.
“I wonder what color he got this time,” he chuckled to himself.
For the last five years, Edd would get him a new color of boots for his birthday.
“I think they’re green,” a voice coming from the bathroom said. “I don’t think I’ve gotten you green ones yet.”
Kevin doesn’t remember screaming but it took a good ten minutes for him to stop shaking after he scooped Edd in his arms and tossed him on the bed.
Once his heart beat returned to something resembling normal, he looked into sky blue eyes and frowned.
“You’re here.”
“Yes,” Edd chuckled and Kevin rolled his eyes as he sat up and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“And ruin the surprise?!” Edd laughed. “Nah.”
“What about work?”
Kevin knew Edd’s work was leading the charge to get the United States out of a pandemic it hadn’t seen the likes of in a good century. He just didn’t like the idea of Edd blowing it off, even if it was his birthday weekend.
“I can’t really do anything about it now,” Edd sighed, feeling a bit guilty about the slightly white lie. “It’s back to the lab techs to sort through the latest findings, so I can take a few days.”
“But just a few?”
“I’m sorry, Kevin,” Edd said softly as he rubbed his arm. “But we’ll make the most of it. I’ll even make dinner.”
Kevin’s stomach growling echoed around the quiet room in response to this as the dinner bell rang.
Dinner on the ranch was simple, you could take a picnic basket back to your cabin or have dinner in the open field off the side of the main house’s commercial kitchen. If you opted for the latter, there was a story time with one of the permanent ranch hands, embellishing the history of the ranch, as everyone ate at the huge picnic tables that circled a large fire pit.
Once the sun went down, the fire pit was lit, small brown paper bags filled with blocks of chocolate, marshmallows, and graham crackers were passed around, and more than a few ghost stories told.
But not a single twang of a banjo was heard, just the soft strumming of a six string guitar dueting with a low harmonica. And the low moo of a cow or two.
Kevin and Edd opted for dinner in the field as Kevin was eager to see the temperament of the horses before trying to pick which one to make his own over the long weekend, after which they fed a snack or two to the horses before they went to the barn for the night. Then it was s’mores and ghost stories with a lil stargazing and a nice, long leisurely stroll back to the cabin.
Kevin honestly didn’t want the night to end, even if his body was nearly begging him to sleep.
Edd’s wasn’t, though.
As soon as they walked in the door, Edd had him pinned against it, deftly locking the deadbolt with one hand, the other undoing Kevin’s pants.
And the breeze blowing through the valley gave Kevin his second wind.
Edd’s beanie was gone as fast as their shoes, they walked out of their pants as Kevin walked them backwards to the bed.
“God, why do you have to over dress so much?” Kevin whined as he undid the buttons on Edd’s shirt, thankful he hadn’t worn a tie.
“You look good, you feel good,” Edd huffed as he undid his cuffs and then batted Kevin’s hands away so he could pull his shirt over his head.
Kevin always thought he looked good, but he looked even better now with his dick in his mouth.
His hands ached as he grasped silky strands as dark as the night sky. The few silver highlights looked like stars, but Edd rather he see color bars.
Kevin squeezed his eyes tight, flashes of technicolor sparking with every jerk of his hips as he fucked his boyfriend’s face.
It seemed cruel, Edd grabbing his ass to take him all the way in, like he didn’t care that Kevin’s yearning and frustrations were aching his jaw, but he loved the man so much that it felt good to do this.
Right until Kevin tore himself away.
Edd sputtered but Kevin grinned.
“Stop your whining, Dork. I brought my chaps and my good sweats.”
“You are not riding in sweats and chaps,” Edd laughed as he shoved him on the bed and went to get his lube out of the bathroom.
“I do what I want!” Kevin protested. “It’s my birthday and I do what I want!”
“Your birthday isn’t until tomorrow and committing crimes against fashion shouldn’t be a birthday wish!” Edd cackled as he leaned against the door and juggled the silicone lube in his hands
“Well, riding your dick is, so get over here!”
Edd couldn’t argue because he really wanted Kevin to ride his dick. If he hadn’t been so shell shocked that he had shown up or so hungry or so eager to see the horses, he’d told him to hop on sooner.
But watching him finally relax and put the stress of work out of his mind was worth it.
Especially since what he had planned would knock him out for the rest of the night.
A ride would mean Edd would have to be on his back, at least to start, so while Kevin flipped their positions, Edd guided him to his side and told him to get his horse ready.
Kevin shrugged his shoulders and went to put his head between his legs, but he nearly choked when Edd started to work a finger in his ass. Edd nearly stopped, but Kevin popped his ass out and Edd’s finger went deeper as Kevin took as much of him in as he could.
“Fuck,” he softly moaned when Kevin spread his leg a bit more, gently massaging the joint where hip met thigh with one hand, using the other as an extension of his mouth.
It was hard to focus in a moment like this but Edd had plans.
And so did Kevin.
When he dropped the lube so he could add another finger in, Kevin snatched it up.
Edd figured he was gonna use it to slick him up and get the show on the road, as it were, but he cried out like a whore when Kevin put his mouth to the tip of his dick, spread his lower cheeks with his greased up hand and whispered, “Get to work.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
His mind was tearing apart at the seams while Kevin sucked him off and played with his ass. He held on by fingering him as fast and hard as he could.
Kevin liked it rough and it was his birthday weekend. The present from Edd’s strong right hand was AMAZING. The left one gently playing in his hair was sending goosebumps all over and when the A/C kicked on, Kevin nearly exploded as the added sensation of cool air on his hot body was absolutely enrapturing.
Edd must have been feeling the same way because he pushed Kevin’s head away from his cock with one hand, but the other grabbed his waist to make him come sit in his lap.
“C’mere.”
Then the room spun.
Well, Kevin thought it did til he realized Edd had spun him around to sit in his lap, but facing away from him and towards the mirror.
And Kevin had never seen Edd’s hands move so fast before.
He gripped the sheets as Edd lifted him up, spread his cheeks, and slowly but firmly pulled him full into his lap, filling him up with everything he had.
The stack of pillows on the bed gave him enough of a cushion to sit up, spread Kevin’s legs, and give the order.
“Ride. Me.”
The visual was mind blowing.
Kevin was flushed, glistening with sweat, his dick throbbing against his hard abs, and Edd wanted a show.
He moved against the fullness in him slowly, enjoying the electrifying numbness that spread all over his body. His fingertips reached for Edd’s hands that were caressing his chest, and that gapped tooth mouth sunk into his shoulder on a whine as he gently kissed his knuckles and started to ride him.
Hands were everywhere, in his hair, turning his face to kiss him senseless, gripping strong arms to hold onto some sense of reality, pawing at his abs, squeezing his chest, playing with his nipples to get him to moan like a slut so in touch with themselves that you can’t help but touch them like they want you to.
But they never broke their gaze in the mirror.
As Kevin lost control, his dick leaking with cum, Edd held on...to his dick.
“Fuck, yes Baby! Just like that!” Kevin screamed as he rode him harder, his movements putting porn stars to shame.
“You gonna cum for me?” Edd whispered and Kevin whined as he nodded, his hand reaching around to grab Edd’s hips to make him fuck him hard and senseless.
“Harder. Faster. Edd…,” his words came out disjointed, but he had to say something! “Dear God, pleeeeeease.”
The bed creaked as Edd pulled him close with one arm, stroked him off with his free hand, and jerked his hips as fast and hard as he could.
Watching the man in his lap jerk once, then twice as he came in his hand was so fucking sexy; jaw dropped, eyes wide in elated shock, legs kicking, both hands around Edd’s one that was stroking him into oblivion.
They had never done it like this before and Kevin wasn’t too sure he’d live til his actual birthday the next day if they kept it up. But he didn’t care. Seeing himself in the mirror like that, as the object of all of Edd’s desires was enough.
That orgasm, tho!
Edd checked his smartwatch then giggled.
“Happy birthday, Kevin.”
Kevin gave him a weak thumbs up as thanks while his thoughts slipped away.
He awoke the next morning, dressed in clean boxers, still slightly embarrassed Edd had to drag him to the bathroom and back again, but no shirt, hearing Edd whisper into his phone.
“Yes, Megan,” Edd said, “I got it all right in front of me. I’m going to see about making some moves later this week but I don’t see why I can’t do it from here.”
“Do what?” Kevin whispered confused and feeling nosy.
Edd squeaked when he noticed he was awake and then said, “I gotta go. I’ll call you Monday with my final answer.”
“Wha? Why are you working?! It’s my birthday!” Kevin pouted. “And that’s my shirt!”
Edd looked down at the shirt he was wearing.
It was an old Marine Corps PT t-shirt Kevin used to wear around Edd’s apartment out west. Actually, the red head left several of these t-shirts in Edd’s apartment when he moved back East and Edd would sleep in them often because it was his way of keeping Kevin close after he left.
“You left it in my house, so it’s mine now,” Edd grinned and Kevin’s ready to fight!
“Stupid dork with his stupid smile,” Kevin thought to himself knowing good and damn well that Edd was right.
“So!? It’s still my birthday,” he half pouted trying to figure out a way to get back at Edd for...working?
“It is,” Edd nodded as he got up to join him in the bed. “What would you like to do today?”
“For you to stop working,” Kevin snarked and Edd laughed.
“I am off til Monday,” he shrugged and Kevin honestly frowned, not that he wanted to talk about it but he did need to know.
“Do you have a ride to the airport?”
“More like,” Edd sighed and then let the words tumble out all at once as he stared holes into his hands, “Iwaswonderingifyouwantedaroommate.”
“Wha?”
“Well, I said-”
“I know what you said, Edd.”
Edd finally looked up at him and he doesn’t remember seeing Kevin ever looking this happy.
“Well, it’s just that, in order for things to keep progressing smoothly, they need a new lab director out here because Dr Stavian is retiring.”
“And they want you to come out and do it?” Kevin asked as he pulled him into his lap.
“Well, yes, but only as an interim because I don’t have my doctorate degree.”
“Yet.”
“Kevin.”
“It’s been like four years, Edd!”
Edd made a face because when he had run into Kevin again after so many years away, he was a year done with his masters program and didn’t have any desire to go back to school. He was just too burnt out.
Kevin figured he just needed a break because he had been in school the entire time he had known him. He couldn’t imagine him stopping forever.
“Listen,” Kevin told him as he gripped his twitching hands still, “You said that Justin said that they’d pay for it when you’re ready and apparently you don’t have much of a choice if you move back this way.”
“But I don’t want to lose you!” Edd protested and Kevin looked at him like he had two heads.
“HOW?!”
“School is an all consuming thing,” Edd sighed. “I can’t really focus on us if I have to go to class, then the lab, then work everyday for the next four years, at minimum.”
“You can if we live together.”
“Wait a min -”
Kevin laughed as he saw the wheels turn in Edd’s head and said, “You just asked if you could move in Mr DoYouNeedARoommate, like I’m gonna let my boyfriend just be my damn roommate. So how hard would it be if you went to school and we lived together?”
“You might have to move actually, because the commute from your place to the lab is like 45 minutes. Add in the campus and you’re looking at a good hour and a half.”
Edd thought he had him til Kevin shrugged and said, “So we move. Be closer to Ma that way anyways.”
“What about the shop?!”
“The further away I am from that place, the better,” Kevin laughed. “It’s one of the joys of being the boss. Besides, Johnny lives upstairs so he keeps the place in line. I just do paperwork.”
“Oh.”
Kevin smirked as all of Edd’s arguments died away.
They could make it work.
“We can do this, Edd,” Kevin said softly as he gave him Eskimo kisses. “Just go back to school and let me worry about the rest.”
“Especially since we ain’t paying for it!” Edd laughed and Kevin snorted.
“Damn straight.”
“I thought you were bi.”
“I’m about to bite that ass,” Kevin grinned but the breakfast bell rang and the smell of fresh bacon had to be indulged.
They took a picnic basket back to the cabin for lunch after their morning ride and used Kevin’s hotspot to look for apartments and houses to rent closer to the labs and university as the ranch’s free wifi was sketchy. A quiet neighborhood not too far from Kevin’s mother’s retirement community seemed the perfect place to start and Edd sent out a few online applications while Kevin made arrangements for dinner.
They rode the black stallion together to a grove of apple trees for a picnic at dusk and discussed the plans they made.
And make out like teenagers.
But the first mosquito bite had them racing back to the cabin as neither wanted to have any more awkward scratches in public than necessary after this trip.
They led the stallion back to his barn and walked slowly back to the cabin, Edd taking note of the constellations overhead.
They collapsed into the bed in a tight cuddle, worn out from their excursions for the day.
“You know, tomorrow is Saturday,” Edd said as they laid in the content silence.
If Edd was mentioning Saturday…
He didn’t know where Kevin got the birthday hat from, but it was a much better outfit than the sweats with chaps.
Especially when one needs to be ready for a day in bed with your homieloverfriend.
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spidercakes · 5 years
Text
Have a fun lil ABO high school starker thing (because apparently that’s what I’ve been feeling lately) :) Featuring omega!Tony and alpha!Peter
*
Peter watches Tony like he always does, in like, a not creepy way. Okay, always watching him his kinda creepy but its not really always its mostly when he comes and goes from his locker because Peter’s is three down and Tony is always a whirlwind of drama and snark that Peter thinks is amusing. And also because he has a giant neon crush on Tony and has for like, ages. But he’s a year younger and he can’t say he blames omegas for mostly dating older when their pool of potential dates thinks farting on each other is the funniest thing they’ve ever seen. Even he doesn’t like alphas his age and he is alphas his age.
Still, Tony. He walks in, some guy trailing behind him obviously trying to get his attention but Tony ignores him for the most part. “Oh come on, at least take the-” Tony cuts him off as he turns around. He looks beyond annoyed so Peter grins, sure that Tony’s companion is about to get told off.
“Okay, I don’t know what gave you the impression I actually give a shit about you but I don’t. I wanted to fuck you, I did that. Now get the hell out of my face,” Tony snaps at him.
Peter shakes his head because they never learn. This happens at least once a week and they all react the way this guy does now, yelling about Tony being a slut or whatever insult that comes to mind. “Dude, if the worst you can say about Tony is that he has a lot of sex I think he’s winning,” Peter says and then his eyes go wide because he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
Tony looks over, then looks him over and Peter swears to god he’s going to die of embarrassment. “Why don’t you shut up and stay out of it,” the guy snaps at Peter.
“If you want me to stay out of it then stop shrieking like a banshee for everyone to hear, it is seven thirty in the morning you are so annoying,” Peter says, shutting his locker door and he’s fully prepared to flee because he hadn’t meant to say that either but Tony’s voice stops him.
“See, he thinks your annoying too and he didn’t even have to deal with the shitty sex,” Tony says, shrugging like this is something that can’t be helped and he turns to his locker. “So how about you go, hmm?” He flicks his fingers at the guy in dismissal and Peter’s kind of shocked that he just goes. Peter turns too, figuring he’s also been dismissed. “Oh, not you. Where’d you come from?” Tony asks him and Peter frowns.
“I’ve been here the whole time,” he says and Tony rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, I can see that but like, why are you here now?” he asks.
Okay, MJ would totally think its arrogant that Tony didn’t know Peter’s locker was three down from his but also Peter didn’t know bananas weren’t supposed to make his mouth all tingly until last week so if he can go sixteen years without noticing an allergy he figures Tony can be forgiven about the locker thing. “That’s my locker,” he says, gesturing to it. “Which is what I meant by I’ve been here the whole time.”
Tony looks him over again and Peter wishes he would stop that or maybe continue he’s not sure yet, his brain is panicking. “Huh. Well there’s something new.”
*
Peter is trying with some success to jam his books back into his locker when Tony walks up to him. “How come I don’t know you?” he asks and he takes a bite of his apple.
He has no idea how Tony can make these things look so damn casual. “Probably because I’m a year younger than you,” Peter says, finally managing to shove his biology text book back into his locker shelf.
“That’s no excuse, plenty of people go to parties,” Tony says and its so cute that he thinks Peter has ever been invited to any party ever.
“Uh, yeah, the only parties I go to are the ones involving Dungeons and Dragons so that’s like, probably another reason why you don’t know me.”
He doesn’t really expect Tony to look excited but he lights up anyway. “I love D&D!”
“I don’t but that’s because MJ keeps finding ways to make sure my characters die.” Usually in horrible ways and he works so hard to make them live but somehow he always ends up with a himbo who dies brutally.
“Michelle? Yeah, she’s great. A little intense, but hilarious,” he says and if he didn’t describe her as intense he would assume that Tony was talking about some other Michelle. Not that any of her friends call her that.
“How do you know MJ?”
“She likes to draw people in crisis in detention and I’m in there a lot. Which brings me to point number two, we have friends in common and I’m offended no one has introduced us,” he says.
Peter’s fucking confused and in a good way maybe? He has no idea what’s going on but it seems good so there’s that. “MJ likes to toy with people, she probably did it on purpose.” Definitely more like, she’s known that Peter has had a crush on Tony since forever and she’s never said anything about them talking anywhere let alone detention.
“Uh huh. So here’s the thing Peter, and I had to dig for that information because for someone reason everyone knows you as penis? I’ll forgive whatever weirdness that is, point is I think you’re cute and we’re gunna go a date and you better like Star Wars otherwise I’ll have to shoot myself for being attracted to someone who doesn’t like Star Wars and that’s messy so. See you at eight?” he asks and Jesus Peter wishes he had that kind of confidence.
“I’ve already seen the new Star Wars movie. I went opening night, obviously,” he says, frowning at himself because why is he even arguing this?
“Great, so did I. We can compare notes on how we think things should have went and annoy the other movie patrons with it. See you at eight?” he asks again, totally unperturbed and man, Peter is probably in love with him.
“Yeah, sure. But like, I have so many opinions so you should be prepared. I literally have notes and like, a slide show about it.” He has no idea why he admitted that out loud and honestly its more of a theory board done up Charlie Day style with a bunch of strings attached to it so Ned can stop being wrong and realize why Peter is right about everything to do with Star Wars canon but also. There’s no need to say any of that out loud.
Tony doesn’t look the least bit put off by that and instead grins, “good, and you should be prepared too because I have a freakish amount of Star Wars knowledge just lingering around in my brain for when morons try to claim they know more about Star Wars that I do.”
Peter grins, “awesome!”
*
MJ looks confused and Peter is also confused, he gets it. “You went on a date with Tony Stark? Stark doesn’t do dates, he barely even does one night stands.”
Oh, he does one night stands just fine, maybe a little too fine if his dramatic love life is any indication. Still though, he went on a date with Tony so he shrugs. “Well I don’t know but we went on a date and it was nice and he’s a total heathen when it comes to Star Wars theories but I can forgive that.”
MJ rolls her eyes, “dude, if he killed a man right in front of you you’d forgive it if you got a chance to sleep with the guy,” she points out.
“Oh my god MJ, don’t be so rude. I don’t want to just sleep with him, like a relationship would be nice. If he’s interested, which is probably a no because I’m me and he’s him but still. I can dream.” Its not like he doesn't already and if nothing else he did get to go on a date with the guy so there’s that.
“Nice to see MJ wasn’t talking out her ass when she said you weren't you know, like that. You know what I mean,” Tony says, making Peter jump in surprise as he sits beside him.
He does know what Tony means though and he lets out an annoyed huff. “Oh my god alphas are all so fucking annoying. They’re all ‘why don’t omegas like me,’” he says in a fake whiny voice, “but then they go on to make fun of literally everything omegas do and how they do it and then to top it off they walk around trying just scent people like walking up and sniffing the shit out of someone isn’t creepy as hell. They don’t like you because you’re stupid, Chad.”
Tony squints at him, “how are you single? What’s wrong with you? Do you keep a bag of baby teeth under your pillow?” he asks and Peter frowns.
“Oh he’s got no baby teeth, no bag of hair, and he’s not pretending to be woke just to get laid either, he’s just like that. His downside is that his voice hasn’t gone through puberty and he has a really sad tragic backstory that will make you want to pet him to make him feel better and that’s disgusting,” MJ says, laying out Peter Facts like its her job. Except she and Tony clearly talked about something because they’re talking like they did and he is so confused. “Also he’s dumb as hell and doesn’t know omegas have vetting systems, which is why he looks like he’s trying to take a shit right now.”
“Perfect. So we’re going to a museum later, right?” he tells Peter and he nods because like, obviously.
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