#in honor of my boy i also got three drinks

[daevolloqui]

wei wuxian at penn station

[saeist]

my personal touya headcanons (yes i will make full on fics n drabbles with these in mind):

CHRONIC manspreader. literally takes up a whole love couch with the way he spreads his legs

can drive but gets motion sick easily so counting on him for a 2+ hour roadtrip? yeah pull over we’re switching seats

damaged hair from the constant dyeing but that won’t stop this baddie from dyeing it jet black every 2 weeks

only runs on 4 separate hours of sleep and snores like a truck. (u’ll need earplugs)

surprisingly tidy in regards to his room only because rei comes and checks their rooms and if its all messy they’ll get their asses whooped

doesn’t smoke cigarettes BUT has a box of disposables/juuls hidden in his sock drawer (GOD FORBIDS rei finds his stash)

^ in addition to that, contrary to popular belief his plug is unironically natsuo..

loves icy berry related related flavors too LMFAO

is supposed to be a junior in college on paper but since he keeps dropping and switching majors, he’s technically still a freshman

^ is currently taking chemical engineering (took business ad, computer science, finance, nursing (💀) and literally god knows what. his college majors that he dropped is between him, endeavor and god now)

since he’s competitive as fuck and is a perfectionist, took up multiple sports and extra curriculars growing up

prefers soggy cereal

drinks a lot but lightweight as fuck. after one bottle he’s out 💡 but that won’t stop him from drinking more!

knows how to braid girls hair thanks to fuyumi

cats warm up to him on the street cus he’s warm n shit

prettiest resting face but makes the ugliest faces known to man just for the sake of it (still pulls)

doesn’t approach girls, girls approach him

scares them away when he’s all like 😐🧍🏻

hooded eyelids + long eyelshes (both top and bottom)

genuinely starts tweaking when people say he got endeavor’s eyes solely bc hes a momma’s boy..

grew up being SPOILED rotten amongst his siblings so he doesn’t take no for an answer and will actually start stomping his feet

once he opens his mouth however.. everyone is gonna know he’s endeavors son fr 😓

keigo is his closest irl friend but tomura is who he considers as his best friend even if they’re only internet friends

has a basic pc set up and plays valorant fortnite and roblox religiously

shits on children especially shoto and his two friends

once babysat the three of them in exchange for concert tickets

did i mention he has an indie rock emo band he formed when he was in high school? yeah

bassist obviously but sometimes he plays drums

will scare rei out of her wits when he would just magically appear on their couch when he’s supposed to be at his university

his room is in the attic

dresses like hes going to an opium concert but rei makes him change before they leave to go to church so ultimately he dresses up like a cottagecore mf but with piercings and box dye jet black hair

almost broke natsuo’s hand when he first got his nose piercing

embodies the trope of “best friends older brother”

has a soft spot for grandmas and will help them cross the road each time

picks up shoto from school with his beat up hand me down car. literally one slam on the break away from breaking (endeavor gave it to him as his 18th birthday present)

sometimes ends up driving shoto’s friends home too if shoto insists (more like demands)

will also intentionally go through a drive-thru and the kids in the backseat are expecting him to ask them what they want but touya just gets whatever the fuck he was craving, pays and leaves

“we got food at home!” - touya to a enraged shoto

also sometimes touya is shoto’s chaperone or the “parent” that goes to those parent teacher meetings when its time for get shotos report card and will deliberately say shoto has failing grades when shoto is part of the honor roll just to again, fuck with him

shamelessly flirts with the girls natsuo brings home just to fuck with him (he gets sucker punched later that night bc at the end of the day, natsuo is bigger than that man 😭)

when all the todosibs are fighting, nobody listens to him even if he’s the eldest. they all end up ganging up on him (fuyumi doesn’t stop shit, in fact she instigates further. she don’t play)

says he hates winter and likes summer more but whenever its summer time if he could he would live inside the freezer

hates the feeling of sweating 😮‍💨

sometimes goes on days without showering only popping a lil deodorant here and there so rei forces him to shower whenever he just so happened to pass by her

cooks decent meals but shoto hates it and intentionally makes gagging noises whenever he finds out touya was in charge of cooking that night

hates doing the dishes and fools shoto into doing it for him

when he goes on dates, he steals endeavors credit card and just pays for everything. will probably even take you to nobu just to do so

attempts to blame natsuo when endeavor caught on since his card decline at the supermarket but unfortunately touya cannot lie to save his own life even if he tried

OH! talks MAD game in bed but has never touched a woman in his life.. painfully a virgin. u have to teach this man PLEASEE 🙏

likes yeat and carti

basically teenager borderline adult core

[fandomnerd9602]

Wedding Daze (Pt. 1)

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

Why did you and Wanda agree to a one week engagement period? The planning. The venue. The cakes. You could laugh or you could cry.

Luckily all of your friends and family were close by anyway. So it wasn’t a problem with travel or time for you and your amazing doe Wanda.

You and Wanda spent the days leading up to your nuptials finalizing everything. Natasha, your wolf hybrid pal, took the maid of honor duty extremely serious. Well except she also had recently spent a lot of time with your future in law Pietro.

The wedding was less than three days away. You had just finalized a deal with a charity, a media marketing push with Tony, and then picked up the cake with the boys.

You were about to go into your office when Pietro ran up and took a hold of you.

“Listen bratok,” he said so slick and cool, “tonight is the infamous ritual for both parties.”

“The bachelor/bachelorette parties? Piet no stag clubs!”

“Done,” he huffed, “Nattie told me I couldn’t do that. Besides it’s just you, me and the boys”

Billy and Tommy came running up to you excited as could be. “Guys night!!!” They shouted excitedly.

You gave a chuckle and shake of your head.

What you didn’t notice was Wanda, peering out of her own office. She loved that the guys in her life got along so well. And then Natasha came running up and took a hold of her, “come on bride to be”

“Where are we going?”

“To a little night on the town for just us!” The wolf pal responded before letting out a playful little howl.

Wanda, Natasha and Yelena went out to a local karaoke bar. Yelena brought her best friend and Labrador hybrid Kate Bishop with her. Wanda found herself having a blast. Singing along to old karaoke songs and getting a little drunk with friends old and new was amazing to her.

“You have no idea how free I feel right now!” Wanda giggles as she settles down in a booth with her gal pals.

“I think we got an idea, Bambi” Natasha giggles, taking another sip of her drink.

“I think we all know how Natasha feels free” Yelena giggles.

“Shut up, sestra!” Natasha retorts.

“What are Wanda and I missing here?” Kate asks with a drunken giggle.

Yelena smirks, “I saw Pietro sneaking out of her den the last few nights”

Wanda shrieks a little, maybe it was the alcohol or the fact that her best friend was hooking up with her brother.

“What?! Are you kidding me?!” Wanda asks, lightly punching her wolf pal in the arm.

“He treats me right” Natasha gives a little wink.

“Trust me. I can tell” Yelena snorts.

Meanwhile across town, you and Pietro decided to have your stag party at the local bowling alley. Billy and Tommy were having a blast.

“I would’ve hired you a dancer,” Pietro admits, “but you got kids now”

“I’d rather go bowling with you and my boys anyway” you smile.

“Your boys.” Pietro smiles, “I like the sound of that.” He takes a sip of his drink, “thank you for being their poppa”

You give your boys a kiss on their antlers, “that’s my privilege.”

Pietro chuckles, “Wanda chose well”

You give your brother in law a gentle smile. Yeah you considered yourself so blessed that out of all the people in the entire world, Wanda chose you.

The night was beginning to wind down as you got Pietro back to his condo on the sanctuary grounds and got the boys to bed in the comfort of your home.

You couldn’t help but think that in less than twenty four hours you’d be marrying the doe of your dreams. The one who gave you strength to keep going as much as you encouraged her to do the same. Where was your doe anyway?

Your question was answered a second later as you heard your door open. Natasha carried a tipsy Wanda in.

“Your princess awaits you,” Natasha gave you a slurred smile.

“Princess? I’m a queen” Wanda giggles as she falls into your arms.

“Yes you are” you kiss the top of her head, “need a place to stay, Nat?”

“Nope. Kate’s our designated driver”

You look outside and see Kate waving to you and Wanda. Yelena stands next to her, offering you a salute.

“Thanks Nat” you hug your wolf bestie before helping to guide Wanda to your bedroom.

Wanda giggles as she passes her old room, “we’ll have to redecorate that one of these days”

“Why’d that?”

“Cause some day I wanna little teeny baby girl” she slurs her words a little. You let out a little laugh.

You lay Wanda gently down on your bed and grab a couple bottles of water for her. You give her a kiss to the forehead.

“Good night, my doe”

“Good night my buck” she mumbles back. “Until tomorrow”

And with that you grab your pillow and head to the couch.

Tomorrow. You couldn’t help but smile. Tomorrow couldn’t get here fast enough.

Tags @lifespectator @olsenmyolsen @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @idkwhatever580 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @aloneodi @multi-fandom-enjoyer @russianredassassin @revanshand @texaswolf23

[starlightkun]

➠ word count: 22.0k ➠ warnings: cursing, mentions of drinking (there’s a frat party), everything i know about hockey is from internet research for this fic i’m sorry for any inaccuracies i tried ➠ genre: fluff, gets quite suggestive (a heavy makeout scene/near sex scene) but no actual smut, college au, hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), halloween-themed at the beginning, sungchan’s not a frat boy but he’s like... a frat boy by association ➠ extra info: the ages/relative ages of the members in here are whatever i want them to be, don’t read into it too much. this is a very usamerican take on a college au btw. also i call kunhang ‘hendery’ in here like it’s his government name for a one-line gag bc i think i’m hilarious the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines and thoughts/experiences as a chronically ill person are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines and chronic illness, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds ➠ author’s note: hi so this has been a wip for like a year lol. this one long predates sungchan’s deneofication (and subsequent re-debut in riize), hockey player sungchan just lives in my brain rent free ok. anyway, i hope you like ➠ series masterlist

“You agreed to go to a frat party?” Chenle’s eyes were bugging out of his head as he sat across a high top in the dining hall from you. “Do you remember what happened last time, Y/N?”

“Hard to forget,” you snorted.

“And yet it seems you did, somehow, lost in dreamboat Jung Sungchan’s eyes.”

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 24

“Now shoo!” Dr. Son waved the small group of you out of his dimly lit office.

It was Phantasmagorical Phriday, a time-honored tradition going back to your freshman year of university. Dr. Son had been intrigued by the four freshmen who were somehow in his third-year class on Gothic Fiction and actually seemed to “get it.” His “Phantasma Phour” as you dubbed yourselves (a nickname that got quickly worn out, persisting only as the title of your groupchat):

Wong Hendery, who ended up in the class accidentally due to an error on his academic advisor’s part (she had gotten him mixed up with a Wong Henry, a junior Literature major who actually needed to take Dr. Son’s class) and he subsequently changed majors at least three times to your knowledge, so you were genuinely surprised he was graduating on time—he finally settled on Communications;

Jung Sungchan, at the time a promising young rookie hockey player who had now blossomed into your school’s reliable team captain—Biology major, being an athlete meant he could pre-register for classes and he picked Dr. Son’s at random to fulfill a gen ed Literature credit;

Zhong Chenle, an honorary member of both Nu Chi Tau, one of the biggest frats on campus, and the hockey team, as somehow 95% of his social circle were Nu Chi brothers and/or hockey players despite Chenle being neither himself, your best friend and also sometimes you swear a demon sent straight from hell to kill you—Literature major, who bullied you into taking the class; and

You, Chenle’s best friend who used to hate anything and everything Gothic fiction that got bullied into taking it anyway and now adored the genre more than any other—Literature major, who took the last spot in the class on registration day.

Dr. Son would invite you all to monthly extracurricular workshops in his office that built up to this: Phantasmagorical Phriday, a writing competition to see which of the four of you could write the best gothic short story. The stories were actually submitted the prior week, but it was the Friday before Halloween that was dubbed the Phriday in question. The four of you were invited to his office that night after classes (and Sungchan’s hockey practice) to review your pieces: how he thought everyone had improved from last year, discuss the writing process, and to finish off the night, Dr. Son would announce his top two stories. Those in the top two had the chance to send him a persuasive letter about why they should win. They had to be sent to him that night because the next morning, your professor would email the top two individually with the results.

Since this was your last Phantasmagorical Phriday, Dr. Son pretended not to see when Hendery brought out four celebratory White Claws for you all. You still had your warm, unopened, orange-flavored seltzer in your hand as the small group of you left the Literature, Writing, and Foreign Languages building together.

“I still can’t believe you couldn’t find anything classier for our last Phantasmagorical Phriday, Hendery.” You shook your head. “Ever heard of champagne? Literally any wine?”

“So you’re not gonna shotgun that, Y/N, is what I’m hearing?” Hendery teased as you all stopped under the light post right outside the building.

“Is that a challenge or what, Wong?” You scoffed, handing it back to him. “But no, I’m good.”

Sungchan thankfully cut in and changed the topic of conversation, “So are you going to start writing your letter of reconsideration, Y/N?”

This year’s top two were you and Sungchan, the member of the Phantasma Phour you spoke to the least. Outside of the monthly “workshops” (which at this point with your differing majors were just get-togethers of questionable academic value), you never saw him. You obviously saw Chenle all the time, and despite the fact that you considered him a bit obnoxious, you were sort of friends with Hendery, joining him for lunch if you happened to see him at the student union or at the coffee shop on campus. Sungchan was perfectly nice and all, you just found that you never really talked to him like the other two.

You looked down at your watch, taking a quick inhale when you saw the time. You’d stayed in Dr. Son’s office a lot later than you’d realized.

“Oh, no,” you casually waved off Sungchan’s question, readjusting your tote bag on your shoulder. “I’ve got something more pressing right now. Anyway, see you guys. It was a good four years, I’m glad we got to do this.”

Lifting your hand in a wave of finality to the three men, you departed.

“She’s really not going to submit a letter?” Sungchan asked, still watching after you as your figure faded away in the distance.

“Nope,” Chenle shook his head, reaching for the spare White Claw in Hendery’s hand. “Y/N never does.”

“You didn’t know that?” Hendery questioned the hockey player, holding the drink away from Chenle.

“Why not?”

“She’s not in it to win really.” Chenle lunged for the can as Hendery jerked it away at the last second. “Just wants to make stuff.”

“So she was lying about doing something?”

Hendery and Chenle were now running circles around Sungchan in their game of keep-away with the seltzer.

“No.”

“What do you—” Sungchan sighed, yanking the drink from Hendery’s grasp and holding it high above his own head, well out of either of their reaches. “Hey!”

Now with their attention, the hockey captain kept his arm straight up as he returned to his question, “What are you talking about, Chenle?”

“Y/N does have something pressing right now. If I tell you where she’s probably going will you give me the White Claw?” Chenle bargained.

“You’d exchange your best friend’s location for an orange White Claw? Not even watermelon?” Hendery asked incredulously.

“It’s Sungchan, someone we’ve known for like four years, not some creep off the street who’s going to wear her skin.”

“No, Chenle, you don’t have to tell me that,” Sungchan shook his head, offering the can out for either one to take.

The Literature major was able to snatch it first, jumping up in celebration, “Suck an egg, Hendery!”

“I wouldn’t—” Sungchan’s words were too late though, as Chenle had already popped the tab, and the overly-shaken seltzer exploded all over all three of them.

“Zhong Chenle, I’m going to strangle you, you little weasel!”

“Ah! Sungchan, save me!”

“I would, except you got fucking orange White Claw in my eyes and I’m fucking blind now! Goddamn!”

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 25

Rolling over in bed the next morning, you let out a big sigh and buried your face in your pillow, fully intent on going back to sleep. Saturday morning. No school, no work. Just you, your bed, and some much-needed sleep.

Then, the obnoxious blaring of your phone came from your nightstand. You groaned, reaching blindly for the object, and barely opening one eye just enough to snooze it. Damn, you really had slept in, to be woken up by your first medication alarm. Well, you weren’t going to die if you took your morning doses fifteen minutes later than normal. You were about to stuff your phone under your pillow when you briefly caught sight of your lockscreen after the alarm disappeared.

Text notification from Jung Sungchan?

Flopping onto your back and bringing your phone with you, you squinted against the harsh light of your screen to make sure you were reading that right. Yep, Sungchan had definitely texted you a few hours ago, separate from the Phantasma Phour chat. At almost 7:00 a.m., too. What the hell?

Curiosity won out over a need to sleep for fourteen more minutes, and you opened the notification.

[jung sungchan: Congrats, Y/N!]

You stared blankly at the text, your groggy mind desperately grasping around for any sort of context as to why Jung Sungchan would be texting you that at 7:00 a.m. on a Saturday. Then it struck you like lightning, and you let out an audible “Oh, duh!” as you remembered where you both were last night. Phantasmagorical Phriday. The writing contest. You and Sungchan were the top two. Dr. Son must have sent the email out already, and apparently you had won.

Normally, you wouldn’t check your school email on the weekend until Sunday night, unless you were waiting to hear back from a specific professor—and the Sunday night check was just to see if any of your Monday classes were cancelled. Lord knows you definitely wouldn’t have checked it at seven in the morning on a Saturday. You let out a snort of disbelief as you reread the timestamp on the text. But still, it was nice of him. A good show of sportsmanship, as one would expect from the hockey captain.

You quickly checked your own student email, and did in fact see an email from Dr. Son at the very top with the subject ‘PHINAL PHANTASMAGORICAL PHRIDAY RESULTS.’

‘Y/N and Sungchan:

Thank you again for your submissions. I enjoyed working with everyone these four years.

The winner this year is Y/N. Good job.

Dr. Son.’

An amused smile crept across your face at your professor’s usual blunt email style. But this was also some of the nicest feedback he’d given your writing, even when you had won Phantasmagorical Phriday in the past, or in classes that you’d taken from him over the years. Something about it truly did feel... final.

And so with an odd bittersweetness, you drafted an equally short and blunt email back to your professor.

‘Dr. Son:

Thank you for taking us on these past four years. I will never forget the experience.

Y/L/N Y/N.’

Then finally, you went back to the original reason that you were even doing this.

[you: thanks, sungchan!]

Then, your alarm went off again, making you jump out of your skin. Well, time for your morning meds.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 27

A tall figure was nearing the corner table you had claimed in one of the campus coffee shops the following Monday afternoon, and you looked up from your laptop screen, a little surprised at who it was. Jung Sungchan was standing at the end of your table, black flannel over a graphic t-shirt and dark wash jeans, one backpack strap slung over his shoulder. He had an iced coffee in one hand.

You paused the movie playing on your laptop, taking out both your headphones as you looked up at him inquisitively, “Uh hi, Sungchan.”

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Are you here to study or something?”

“Mm.” He couldn’t seem to meet your eyes. “Not really. Just grabbing a coffee and saw you. Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?”

“Oh, sure. I’m waiting out the storm to leave,” you gestured to the near-constant downpour that had started right after you’d arrived over two hours ago. Noticing that some of Sungchan’s hair and shoulders were damp, you added, “The storm you apparently got caught in without an umbrella.”

“Oh, yeah,” he ran a hand through his hair to push some of it away from where it had been falling into his eyes.

“I don’t mind having some company while I wait.”

To your surprise, instead of sitting across from you, Sungchan plopped himself onto the same bench that you were on, one leg slung over either side so he could face you directly.

You picked up the mug in front of you, your second cup of your drink of choice. You’d gotten a refill after it became clear that the rain wasn’t letting up any time soon. Sungchan was already a third of the way done with his iced coffee as you blew over your hot drink before taking a small sip. He glanced up at you, and you felt like you were going to choke on the uncomfortable silence. So you took a gamble. Turning in your seat to face him as well, you hiked a knee up onto the bench, bringing your mug with you.

“Do you want to ask me something, Sungchan?”

The hockey player startled, having to catch himself from nearly choking on his coffee. Seems like you were right. Sungchan finally stopped sucking down his drink, setting it down on the table and wiping his palms on the knees of his jeans. “I heard that you never sent in a letter to Dr. Son. Any year you were a top two.”

“Oh, yeah, nah.”

“Why not?”

“Didn’t seem worth it,” you shrugged.

“What?”

“Every year I participated I wanted my work to stand on its own two legs. After the death of the author, that’s all that’s left, right? The work. It has to speak for itself.”

“Oh,” Sungchan nodded, then squinted his eyes, confusion entirely overtaking his features. “Wait, what?”

“Sorry, I don’t know how much Lit Theory you’ve done. Probably not a lot as a Bio major, huh? Death of the author is both literal and metaphorical. Removing what the author meant to do or say with a text from how you actually interpret the text as the reader. It’s a lot easier when they’re actually dead, but the abstract concept is practiced when they’re alive too. It’s… seeing the text as separate from authorial intent. Mind you, it’s only one tool in a literary critic’s arsenal, but I liked it for our Gothic fiction class. All the authors we read in that class, they’d been gone for a while, we had no way to know what they really meant when they wrote all that stuff. And it didn’t really matter for our purposes. All we did have was what they wrote, and that was enough for me. So the same should be enough for whoever reads the stuff I write. Even if it’s just Dr. Son.”

“Huh.”

“Though I guess I just explained myself a little, oops,” you laughed at yourself, taking another sip from your steaming mug. “I’m getting less and less mysterious by the second, aren't I?”

“Chenle made it sound like you didn’t care about winning,” Sungchan asked, cheek in hand.

You arched an eyebrow at this. “You asked Chenle about me?”

“W-Well you left so fast after we saw Dr. Son, and you two are you know...”

“Oh he’s my best friend,” you clarified for perhaps the ten-thousandth time in your life. “And while others may use any litany of swears for him and Hendery calls him a little weasel, I prefer ‘actual demon sent from Hell to kill me.’”

“What?” Sungchan’s eyes widened.

“He pushes me out of my comfort zone. In a good way, most of the time.”

“Got it. Then what do you do for him? If he’s your yang…”

“I’m entertainment?” You snorted, taking another sip of your drink. After setting it back down, you answered more sincerely, “I’m kidding. Sometimes it feels like that but I did ask him one time a couple years ago, when he was tipsy enough that I believed the words coming out of his mouth but not so drunk that it was unintelligible. ‘A safe place.’ And since then… I can see it in us. That’s my yin to him.”

He smiled softly at you. “That’s... really nice.”

“Sorry, what were you asking me before that?”

“Oh, uh— Chenle said you really didn’t care about winning Dr. Son’s contest, you just wanted to make stuff? That’s why you didn’t submit a letter.”

“Generally, sure. Winning would’ve been great, but I didn’t write what I thought Dr. Son wanted. I took all of his feedback with a grain of salt. Took stuff that I liked from him, took stuff I liked from other profs I had. Mixed and matched to make something that was mine.” You pressed your lips together, then leaned forward like you were about to tell him a secret, “I didn’t live for Phantasmagorical Phriday, Sungchan. You do know that, right?”

“Wow,” he blinked, seeming a bit disoriented. “I’ve never really thought about… you like that.”

“Well to be fair to you, you only ever knew me there and in Dr. Son’s class. Makes it hard not to think of me only through that lens. All you know about me is that I presumably like Gothic fiction and I’m a Lit major, right?”

“Right.”

“So what do you think I was doing here before you showed up?”

“…Reading Edgar Allan Poe.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, turning your laptop screen to show the paused movie to him, “I was watching Pacific Rim.”

His jaw literally dropped, and you felt the need to save him at least a little. Grabbing a book from your bag, you held it up, “I did come here initially to finish reading this new mystery novel I just got, but then the storm came and I had nothing else to do after I was done with the book.”

“But still… you’re so…”

“I have interests outside the one class we took together?”

“Smart,” he finished, an absolutely adorable expression of wonder across his face.

You weren’t expecting that, surprised giggles bubbling up out of you as you felt yourself growing warm under his awestruck gaze.

“Anyway, your turn,” you tapped his knee with your book before putting it back in your bag.

“For what?”

“To expand my horizons of you. All I know about you is that you’re the hockey captain, and a Bio major who took a gothic fiction class one time like three years ago. Show me you’re a multifaceted individual, too.”

“Uhm, that’s about it.”

“Oh come on, Sungchan.”

“No really, if I’m not on the ice, I’m in class; if I’m not in class, I’m with my team; and if I’m not with my team, I’m studying.”

“You’re here, right now,” you pointed out. “Last I checked I’m not on your hockey team, and we’re not studying. You have to do one thing that’s not for school or hockey. My thing was just watching Pacific Rim this one time, remember?”

“Alright…” he paused to think, fingers tapping along his thighs. “I used to play the piano.”

“Past tense, but I’ll accept it. When did you stop?”

“High school? Around when piano lessons and hockey practice started conflicting.”

“And you chose hockey?” You asked, hoping it didn’t sound judgmental. You really were just curious, trying to understand him.

“Actually, the choice was made for me.” He held his right hand out in front of you, and it was then that you saw his pinky finger was unnaturally crooked as he pointed to the digit. “I broke it in a game without even realizing it. Bruises and stiffness sometimes are normal so me and my parents didn’t know anything was up until weeks later when I was fucking up all the notes at my piano lessons because it still hurt. By the time I finally saw a doctor and got a splint on it, it set up wrong. All dexterity for piano out the window. Hockey on the other hand… guys have done a lot more with a lot less.”

You couldn’t help but curiously run a gentle fingertip over the crook in his pinky. “Does it hurt at all? Now?”

“Not really.” He went to bend and flex the fingers of his right hand, and you saw how the fifth finger didn’t curl up as much as the others. “It’s just a lot stiffer. Doesn’t bother me all that much.”

He brought his left hand up and wiggled the fingers on that hand. “Besides, I’m a lefty anyway.”

“So—apologies if this sounds like a stupid question to you, I don’t know anything about hockey—are there like, different hockey sticks for left-handed and right-handed players?”

Sungchan immediately broke into snickers, and you set down your mug to cross your arms over your chest indignantly.

“Hey, I didn’t laugh at you for not knowing what death of the author was—”

“I wasn’t making fun of you, I’m sorry,” he covered his mouth. “That was just… too cute. Uhm yes, there are lefty and righty sticks.”

You had to bite down your bottom lip to not smile at him calling you cute, and instead keep up your ruse of being offended. “I feel patronized.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” There was still a hint of a giggle in his tone, and you felt your self-righteous façade slip away as he continued, “You should come to a game, then, if you really want to broaden your horizons. The season just started. First home game is this Thursday, actually. 7:00 p.m. and students get free admission with your student ID.”

“Thursday?”

“Fridays are for basketball, Saturdays are for football.”

“Oh. Right.”

“You don’t go to those games either, do you?”

“Oh no, did I make it obvious?” You asked sarcastically.

“A bit,” Sungchan jested back.

Outside the window visible past Sungchan, the rain had let up a few minutes ago, and you briefly glanced over at your laptop for the time. Shit, your next alarm was going to be going off soon. If you left now, you should be home at roughly the right time for your next dose.

Clicking your tongue, you started packing up your things, “Well, looks like the rain’s finally let up enough to allow me safe passage. That’s my cue.”

“Oh.” The hockey player with you looked over his shoulder at the newly sunny day outside before turning back to watch you put your things away.

“Are you heading out too?” You nodded to his empty cup.

“I’ve uh, got some homework to do.”

“Guess this is where we part ways then.”

“Um, you didn’t say if you were going. To the game.”

You tucked your chin to your chest to hide your smitten smile as you put your laptop in your bag. Typically just asking for the details would���ve been taken for a yes, but Sungchan wanted extra confirmation. This boy wasn’t good for your heart, truly.

Turning back to him, you gave him a firm and nearly business-like nod. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

A bright grin lit up his features. “Okay! Great! Uhm, feel free to bring some friends, I know just sitting in the stands by yourself might be lonely.”

“I’ll see if I can drag somebody else out. It’ll be a tall order, though. Literature majors, you know, we prefer our Shakesperean poetry readings.”

“Oh, well—”

“I’m kidding,” you laughed and stood then, slinging your tote onto your shoulder. “Honestly, have you seen Chenle at a rager? Boy can drink twice his body weight I swear. He shouldn’t, but he can.”

Before you could reach for your cup and saucer to buss your place, the hockey captain spoke up, “I’ll take care of your mug, don’t worry.”

“Oh, thanks, Sungchan! I’ll see you Thursday then.”

“Bye…” Sungchan trailed off, watching the door long after it had closed behind you.

He didn’t actually have any homework to do, and scrolled on his phone for a few minutes to make sure you were out of the area before leaving himself. He grabbed his long-empty plastic cup and your mug. His went in the trash, and as he went to put yours up with the other dishes and trays, his eyes were caught by the iridescent glitters left behind on the rim by your lip gloss.

[you: hey what are you doing thursday at 7:00?]

[chenle: depends on what weird poetry reading you’re trying to drag me to]

[you: not this time. Sungchan’s hockey game?]

[chenle: you want to go to a sporting event?? why????]

[you: i told him i’d go please don’t make me go by myself]

[chenle: did you offer to go or did he ask you to come?]

[you: he asked me to? i guess?]

[chenle: haha yeah fuck no i’m not going with you]

[you: why not????????]

[chenle: a guy invited you to one of his games? yeah no way am i coming with you]

[you: what difference does that make? you’re seriously going to make me go to a hockey game by myself?]

[chenle: i don’t know how to tell you this gently so: he wants to fuck you]

[you: bro???]

[chenle: especially hockey? caveman brain is activated, he wants to show off how big and strong he is for you over the other males]

[you: damn can’t believe i just blinked and woke up in 200 BC]

[chenle: i’m warning you, only go if you’re ready for the consequences. i.e., that]

[you: so you’re not coming with me]

[chenle: no <3]

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 30

Your chronically early self had gotten there as soon as the doors opened to spectators in order to scope out the perfect spot for yourself. Somewhere not too close to any speakers, where you could still see what was going on, hopefully somewhere Sungchan could maybe see you, but you could make a quick escape if need be. A lot of parameters, hence the need to be early. That meant that you got to watch the visiting team warm up first, and now your school’s team was warming up before the game. Finally the stands started filling up, and you had to do a double-take at the newest figure entering.

“Zhong Chenle, you lying little bitch!” You cursed out your best friend who was approaching you.

He immediately went to defend himself as he plopped down beside you, “Look, I told you I wasn’t going with you, not that I wasn’t going at all. Come on, Lit major.”

He finished off with a solid knock on your head, which didn’t hurt all that much through the beanie you were wearing, but you still slapped his arm away with a glare.

“Are you sure you want to live until graduation day? I can’t tell sometimes.”

“Half the team are Nu Chi guys,” Chenle explained his being there, then waved at one of the players skating by, 23, who gave a salute back. “Jeno.”

“Oh.” You belatedly waved too, but your friend had already turned back to warming up.

Chenle then gave you the run-down on all your friends and acquaintances’ numbers as he spotted them.

“Goalie. Sicheng, 7.” He just blocked a shot from a familiar number, 23. “Already told you, 23 is Jeno. Right wing.”

“Does he always suck?”

“Here’s Ten, number 10. Right defense. He’s never told me which came first, his nickname or his jersey number.”

Sicheng blocked Ten’s shot.

“2 is Mark, center.” His went in.

“66, Donghyuck, center alternate.” His also went in.

“24, that’s Yangyang, left wing—and a miss!”

“This doesn’t bode well that so many of our players apparently kind of suck.” You muttered to yourself, well aware that Chenle was no longer listening to you.

Finally, the tallest of the team was skating up to take a shot. “And there’s your guy, Y/N. Number 27, Jung Sungchan, left defense, captain, your dreamboat—”

“If you don’t shut up—”

“Oh! All net!”

“Isn’t that a basketball—”

“Hey, you got your earplugs, right?”

“Yep, same ones for concerts,” you confirmed, reaching into your purse for them. You hadn’t been able to take your full tote bag into the school sporting event, so you had to condense the essentials into your smaller purse.

“Good, because uh, it’ll get loud.”

“I figured.”

“Yeah, remember how half the team are Nu Chi guys?”

Your eyes widened in realization, “Oh god.”

“Here they come!”

Whipping around to face the same direction he was looking, you saw a horde of about ten to fifteen guys storming the rink, practically shaking the audience section. They were all donned in blue and orange, your university’s colors, various hockey or Nu Chi merch and paraphernalia, and you would’ve absolutely bet money that at least three of them had Nu, Chi, and Tau symbols painted across each of their chests under their shirts. Chenle leapt up to greet them all, the volume of the area immediately rising tenfold at least.

You recognized most of the Nu Chi frat brothers, they were mutual friends or acquaintances of yours through Chenle over the years, and there were even some familiar graduated faces. Lee Taeyong was the first to pick up on your presence, squeezing past Jisung—a new pledge that had glommed onto Chenle in particular—to plop down behind your seat.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” Taeyong asked you with a tilted head. “Not exactly a good place for you, is it?”

Taeyong was frat president for your first two years of college and his last two. You had an absolute disaster at a Nu Chi party in your freshman year that he was witness to. Ever since then, when you would see him in passing at other lowkey (or as lowkey as frat functions could get) Nu Chi events that Chenle took you to during those two years, you always got the distinct impression that he was keeping an eye on you during them.

“Could be asking you the same thing, Taeyong,” you countered, fully turning around in your seat to chat with the man. “Didn’t you graduate two years ago? You don’t have anything better to do on a Thursday night? Like your taxes or something?”

“Us old-timers who peaked in college like to come back and re-live our glory days vicariously for the first home game,” he entertained your jibe, making you giggle. “And somebody’s got to be these kids’ DD. They always go at it too hard after the first game. Win or lose.”

Johnny, another graduated Nu Chi brother, spoke up then, eyes laser-focused on you, “So Chenle’s finally dragged you out to a game, Y/N?”

You immediately looked at your friend with wide eyes, knowing what the answer was, and exactly what reaction said answer would garner. Chenle, on the other hand, seemed all too thrilled to join in, turning to face you with his hands on his hips and a knowing smirk on his face.

“Oh no, I didn’t bring Y/N. She actually didn’t know I was coming at all. I found her here all on her own,” he announced to all the guys, who were hanging on to every word he said. If literally anything else were happening, you might’ve laughed at how they were all wrapped around his finger.

“No offense, but you don’t really seem like you’re interested in hockey,” Jungwoo, a junior who you’d shared a couple literature classes with, said curiously.

You sighed, giving Chenle a frank look before admitting, “Jung Sungchan invited me.”

They exploded with various hoots, hollers, whoops, and whistles.

With a shake of your head, you turned back around to look back at the players on the ice, knowing full well that there was nothing you could do alleviate—or even really participate in—the absolute chaos that was happening behind you.

Eventually, the game started. Taeyong, who had moved to sit on your other side from Chenle, quietly explained the basics of what was going on to you: positions, plays, scoring, why the referee made certain calls. Chenle was caught between cheering along with the other Nu Chi guys and rattling off hyper-specific stats on individual players to you, so you were truly grateful to have Taeyong giving you your “hockey for dummies” tips and tidbits throughout.

You kept your eyes on number 27, as Chenle had pointed him out to you earlier. The gear made it somewhat difficult for you to really recognize any distinguishing features about Sungchan himself except maybe his height, made even greater by the skates he was wearing. But as much as the intellectual side of you might’ve hated to admit it, there was definitely some part of you that very much enjoyed watching him play; that got some kind of thrill every time somebody tried to check him and he didn’t budge—or when he checked somebody and they most definitely did budge.

Before you knew it, all three periods were over, and you were jumping to your feet along with the others, cheering wildly. Your school won by a landslide.

“Oh, they’re going to get plastered,” Taeyong murmured from beside you fondly.

All of you had been in the cheering section milled around in the ice rink lobby waiting for the team to get out of the locker room.

“That was fun,” you declared to Chenle as the two of you stood off to the side from the larger group of loud Nu Chi brothers.

“Yeah, you didn’t seem like you were listening to a word I said.”

“Because you were telling me sports stats, Chenle, I’m surprised my brain didn’t start bleeding out of my ears.”

“Well I’m surprised your nose wasn’t bleeding watching your dreamboat Jung Sungchan beat up all those other guys,” Chenle teased. “200 BC called, they want their cavewoman back—”

You lunged at him, managing to get an arm around his throat in the beginnings of a questionably friendly chokehold, “I’m going to kill you, you little—”

“No murder in the rink!” Came the chastising voice of Johnny Suh from afar, and you reluctantly let him go.

The players started streaming out of the locker room soon after, and you nervously scanned the crowd for Sungchan. Chenle was easily dragged into the chaos of everyone celebrating, leaving you standing off to the side waiting.

Finally, you spotted him. Sungchan was wearing a simple pair of black sweatpants and black hoodie with your school’s name embroidered across the front, his hair a bit mussed up. He was deep in conversation with Sicheng, brow furrowed. The goalie’s features were similarly serious as they gestured to each other. You stayed put, not wanting to interrupt. Taeyong had mentioned that Sicheng was sort of like a co-captain, you guessed they might be doing something important.

Then you’d suddenly made eye contact with Sicheng, who was facing you. He gave you a casual head nod, and said something to Sungchan you couldn’t quite make out. The captain whipped around, a bright smile coming to his face as soon as his eyes landed on you. You lifted your hand to give him a small wave and smile back.

Sungchan quickly ended his conversation with Sicheng, making his way over to where you were standing by a wall.

“Hey, Y/N,” he was still smiling down at you, his eyes practically glittering even in the harsh fluorescents of the lobby. “So you really made it out.”

“I said I would.” You fidgeted with the straps of your bag.

“And…?”

You tilted your head, “And?”

“What did you think? You know, are your horizons super broad now or something?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. His phrasing was funny, but also remembering how he played and was now giving you his undivided attention admittedly made your chest flutter.

“It was good, yeah. I had fun,” you confirmed. “You uhm, you played really good. I think.”

“Thanks,” Sungchan scratched at the back of his neck, and you swore the tips of his ears were pink, but that could’ve just been the cold. “Did you drive yourself?”

“Walked, my apartment is close.”

“Uh, so, we all go out to a bar after games usually. It’s kind of a sleazy dive bar, and I know it’s a Thursday, but I’d really like for you to come. I’ll buy you a dr—”

“I’m really sorry, Sungchan, but I can’t. I’d love to, but…” You trailed off, wracking your brain for some concise way to explain why he couldn’t buy you a drink.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” Sungchan assured you, and you winced at the way the hopeful smile fell from his face.

An awkward silence descended over the two of you. You were chewing on your bottom lip, desperately trying to think of something to say to gloss over your rejecting his offer. You didn’t want to end the conversation on such a sour note, nor did you want to leave him just yet either. Stealing a glance at the clock above you on the wall, however, you knew that you’d need to be going soon anyway.

The hockey player was the one who ended up breaking the silence, “Can I walk you home? It’s late for you to be out by yourself.”

A relieved smile overtook your features, and you hoped he could see the sincerity in it, “Sure, thank you. Let me let Chenle know he’s relieved of his man-shaped friend duties for the night, and we can go.”

You got on your tiptoes to look around for your friend, finally spotting him in a headlock by Jeno, with Yangyang giving him a noogie. They all seemed to be laughing, so it didn’t look too much like bullying that you felt the need to intervene.

“You know, I’ll just text him, actually,” you chuckled, bringing out your phone to do just that.

“Man-shaped friend duties?” Sungchan questioned as the automatic doors parted for the two of you.

“His words, not mine,” you snorted. “But you know, making sure a woman doesn’t walk places by herself at night, that kind of stuff. Having a man just with her makes her safer, as fucked up as that is. Chenle corrected it to be man-shaped since he’s not the manly protective type.”

“I see.”

“But it looks like you’re on man-shaped friend duties for tonight, Sungchan.”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, you wanted to stuff them back in. Friend. God, that was absolutely not what was happening here and you knew it. Chenle’s previous texts flashed across your mind. You obviously knew why Sungchan would’ve wanted to invite you to his game, and you said yes purposefully. Friend. Foot, meet mouth.

Sungchan blinked down at you, but seemed to take it in stride, “Of course, Y/N. Anytime you need a man-shaped person at your side, just call me up. I’ll bring my hockey stick.”

He patted his gear bag that was slung over his shoulder, making you giggle.

“I’ll keep you on speed dial, then.”

It was a short walk to your apartment, and you and Sungchan mostly talked about the game. You asked him a couple questions that Taeyong hadn’t covered during it— which Chenle might’ve, except you had tuned him out. And as you came to a stop at your front door, you didn’t yet fish your keys from your bag.

“How often do you have away games?” You asked.

“They’re usually about half,” Sungchan shrugged. “It’s a bit annoying missing classes, and the bus is kind of rank on the trip back.”

“Ew…” You wrinkled your nose.

“But they’re always a lot of fun.”

“So, uhm, when’s your next home game?”

His face brightened as he seemed to realize what exactly you were asking, “Next week. Same time.”

“Okay, cool.” You bit your lip.

“Cool,” he echoed.

You looked up at Sungchan, catching his eyes for a heart stopping moment. Both of you were standing on your welcome mat, he was close enough that you could catch a faint whiff of the detergent from his clothes—a college athlete with freshly washed clothes? You might already be in love—and watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed. You had the urge to grab him by the front of his hoodie and yank him—

A garish, blaring ringing going off interrupted your split-second pros and cons weighing that had been going on. Sungchan startled at the noise, reminding you very much of a baby moose in the moment. You groaned as you reached into your bag for your phone.

“Oh my god, stop it,” you hissed under your breath as you snoozed the alarm that was going off on there. Once it was quiet, you looked back up at the man with you sheepishly, “Sorry about that.”

He joked, “Curfew?”

You laughed lightly, “No, just a reminder for something I have to do after I get home. It’s fine.”

“Well, before you go do that, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Nu Chi and the team are hosting a joint Halloween party this year, and I’d really like it if I could see you there.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow, people will probably start showing up after like ten, eleven. It’s at the Nu Chi house, theirs is bigger than ours.”

“Fascinating phrasing,” you snickered.

“I know this is last minute, so I get if you have other plans or something.”

“I… can probably swing by for a bit, yeah,” you nodded.

“Great!” Sungchan beamed. “Oh, it is a costume party, by the way.”

“Costume?” You arched a brow. “What’ll you being going as? And please don’t say hockey player.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Definitely not… that would be lame…”

“You were planning on going as a hockey player, weren’t you?”

“Me and Mark have been putting all our spare time into planning this thing, I haven’t had any time to think about a costume.”

“Well you’ve given me 24-hour notice for a costume, so this is your 24-hour notice for one too. When I find you at the Nu Chi house tomorrow, I do not want to see a hockey jersey, Jung Sungchan. Any sports player is off-limits, understand?” You poked his chest with finality.

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded in assent.

Just then, your alarm went off again, and this time you jumped out of your skin. Apparently, another 5 minutes had elapsed. With a sigh, you reached into your bag for your keys.

“I should let you go do that thing,” Sungchan chuckled. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Sungchan,” you unlocked your front door. “See you tomorrow.”

Sitting at your kitchen table a couple minutes later, you were looking down at the vitals displayed on the screen of your blood pressure cuff.

“Jung Sungchan…” you muttered to yourself as you added the reading to your digital record, noting how the line graph jumped up with the new data.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 31

“You agreed to go to a frat party?” Chenle’s eyes were bugging out of his head as he sat across a high top in the dining hall from you. You two were grabbing a quick lunch between classes, and doing an obligatory catch-up on how your short but sweet walk with Sungchan went last night. “Do you remember what happened last time, Y/N?”

“Hard to forget,” you snorted.

“And yet it seems you did, somehow, lost in dreamboat Jung Sungchan’s eyes.”

You threw a fry from his plate at him, “It wasn’t like that!”

He ducked, letting it sail by his head and hit the wall behind him.

“Then what was it like?”

“It was more like a big puppy that I couldn’t say no to and—”

You were cut off by loud gagging noises from your friend, and went to kick him under the table, but missed and hit his chair leg instead. He still got the message, quieting down to let you continue.

“I told him I’d be able to just pop in for a bit. I’ll be in and out before it’ll get too bad.”

“Famous last words...”

“Hold on, LeLe,” you grabbed your friend’s arm to stop him on the sidewalk in front of the Nu Chi Tau frat house.

Taking another look into your tote bag, you made sure once again that you had everything you could possibly need tonight. Medications, snacks, water bottle, ear plugs, the usual. After closing the snaps on the bag, you nervously fidgeted with the hem of your costume. Generic witch, it was the last thing the costume store had in your size that wasn’t garishly scary. You understood well and good how college Halloween parties worked: you had to look hot, not terrifying. Not to mention that those horror show costumes were also much pricier than your “Sexy Witch” one.

“You look cute, Y/N,” Chenle reassured you, readjusting your witch hat for you. “Jung Sungchan won’t know what hit him.”

Chenle, on the other hand, was an almost scarily realistic zombie. If you hadn’t spent an ungodly amount of time hanging out on his bathroom counter this afternoon watching him apply the SFX makeup himself, you would’ve thought he had hired a professional makeup artist to do it. He’d always gone ham on Halloween since you two were kids, ever since he figured out how to make a Transformers costume out of cardboard boxes in primary school. You usually participated in partner costumes with him, but you really didn’t want him to make you a gross-looking zombie tonight.

“Thanks.” You gave him as confident a smile as you could muster.

Resecuring your grip on your go bag, you started up the walkway to the house with your friend.

You had been able to faintly hear the thumping bass of the music from outside, but once inside, you were almost immediately hit by a wall of music. Just inside the front door you were faced with a mass of people in bright costumes, flashing lights, corny Halloween decorations of cobwebs, spiders, ghosts, and pumpkins all over the walls.

Chenle looked over at you expectantly, “Y/N?”

“I couldn’t find my concert earplugs, only my noise canceling. I won’t be able to hear anybody unless they’re shouting at me if I put those in,” you replied, having to raise your voice to make sure he heard you. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay…” He sighed and grabbed your elbow. “Come on, let’s find a quieter spot in the house then.”

You gave him a thumbs up and bright grin, already feeling your ears acclimate to the loudness. You could totally do this. It was one night, and you were just going to see Sungchan for a bit then go. Pop in then back out, just like you said.

You didn’t have to wait long to spot Sungchan. Chenle had barely tugged you into the next room over from the small foyer when a familiar head was visible over the crowd, his bright smile focused on you.

“Hey, Y/N!” Sungchan grinned down at you. He was dressed in a suit and tie, what you were guessing was probably his only set, and his hair was parted to one side, styled off of his face. The tie had already been loosened, and the tuck of his dress shirt wasn’t so crisp.

“Hi, Sungchan,” you smiled up at him, amazed that you could hear anything over both the music and now your heart beating so loudly in your ears.

“So you did find a costume.”

“Oh, yeah,” you messed with the hem of your skirt. “Last one at the shop.”

“You look great.” He was still beaming down at you, and you could feel your skin growing warmer. “I’m really glad you could make it.”

“Thanks. Uhm, so what are you? Funeral director?”

“What? No, I’m—” His sentence stopped in its tracks as he looked down at the front of his suit jacket. He started patting his empty breast pocket, then other jacket pockets, then pants pockets, then looked around on the floor. “Fuck.”

“What?” You looked around under your feet, but weren’t able to see anything other than the usual party debris. “Did you lose something?”

Sungchan looked back up at you, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I was about to say that I’m Mulder from the X-Files. But I’ve apparently lost my fake FBI badge. So it looks like I’m a funeral director now.”

You giggled. “Maybe you can be Mulder when he retires and buys a funeral home.”

“Yeah, the perfect costume. Won’t take too long to explain to anybody, they’ll get it immediately,” he laughed.

“Hey, I’m just glad you didn’t wear a jersey.”

“I’m nothing if not a man of my word.”

“Oh, have you seen Chenle’s makeup by the—” But when you turned around to gesture to your friend, you found that he had disappeared, leaving you and the hockey captain all alone.

“Chenle?” Sungchan asked with a tilted head. “I didn’t even realize he was here yet.”

You shook your head fondly at your friend’s antics. Well, you’d have to thank him later.

“He must have gone to get a drink or something. Either way, it seems I’ve been abandoned.”

“Well, you can come hang out with me and some of the guys, if you want?” He offered.

“Yeah, I’d really like that,” you nodded, readjusting your bag to make sure it was pulled in tight to your body.

Sungchan led you through the frat house with a hand on the small of your back, and you snuck a glance up at him when he went to greet someone who had called his name as you passed by. He kept you tucked into his side as he slowed to give the guy a friendly slap on the shoulder. As soon as Sungchan had stopped to say hello, two more people appeared seemingly from nowhere, eagerly greeting him as well. You faintly recognized one, Jisung, a new Nu Chi pledge. He’d been at the hockey game you went to, and always found Chenle at Nu Chi events that you tagged along to. You looked up at Sungchan’s animated, handsome face again as he continued talking.

“This is Y/N.” Sungchan’s voice suddenly pulled you into the conversation. You snapped your focus down from his face to the other three that were in front of you, and realized that they all definitely knew that you’d been staring.

“Oh, hi.” You gave the three boys a nervous smile.

“Y/N, this is Jisung, Shotaro, and Renjun. Jisung and Shotaro are Nu Chi pledges, Renjun’s a sophomore brother, and he’s—you’re a Literature major, right, Renjun?”

“Yes.” One of them nodded.

“Renjun’s a Literature major too, Y/N,” Sungchan finished the introduction.

“Cool, cool,” you nodded. It had been Shotaro that called Sungchan over in the first place, you were pretty sure.

“Anyway, thanks for the offer, guys, but I already promised Hyuck I would, so we’ve got to go.”

Sungchan ushered you away to the tune of a chorus of disappointed groans from the three boys, and you wracked your brain to see if you could recall hearing any sort of proposition from them. But nope, between the loud music and your prior lack of attention to the conversation, you had nothing.

“What did they want?” You gave up and finally asked Sungchan.

“Beer pong. Hope you don’t mind that I declined. I’ve already had a couple and am not looking to get wasted quite yet.”

“Oh, no, not at all,” you shook your head. Thank god you didn’t have to deal with that yet. “Not really my thing anyway. Terrible hand-eye coordination.”

Sungchan seemed about to say something when someone walked by you with an exceptionally pungent cologne. The whiff shot directly to your head like a bullet, the sharp pain making you wince and hiss. It took everything in you not to cover your nose like Edward Cullen and instead shift to breathing through your mouth for a few moments.

“Y/N? You okay?” Sungchan’s voice was clearly concerned.

The sharp pain was gone just a couple moments after it had registered, and you opened your eyes up again, giving him a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, don’t know what that was.”

“Okay, good.” He squeezed your shoulder before dropping his hand back down to your back and continuing your trek through the Nu Chi house.

You and Sungchan finally made it to a room adjacent to the main living room, where there were a couple of beat-up old couches and lots of Nu Chi Tau paraphernalia. The bass of the music playing in the next room over would occasionally make the picture frames and plaques on the walls rattle, and you could hear every word of the songs crystal clear, even though the room that you were in was packed to the brim with partygoers as well. Sungchan stopped you at a group of people gathered around one of the couches, tapping the shoulders of two of them who had their backs to you. Donghyuck and Hendery turned around, immediately parting to make room for the both of you in the group upon seeing you.

Almost everyone in the group was familiar to you either as friends or acquaintances. Your social circle was big thanks to Chenle, who was friends with practically the entire hockey team and Nu Chi house, despite being a member of neither. But now you didn’t have your best friend at your side, just Sungchan and your tote bag, both of which you were keeping close to you.

“Oh shit, Y/N!” Hendery grinned, pulling you into a one-armed hug of greeting. “Damn, it really is you!”

“Yeah, I’m a witch, not a ghost, Hendery,” you retorted jokingly. He was dressed as Prince Eric, if you weren’t mistaken.

“Well, when Sungchan said you were coming, some of us were a bit... skeptical.”

Someone dressed as Venom cut in from Hendery’s other side sharply, “No, I believe you said ‘never in a million fucking years, loverboy.’”

The rest of the group erupted in tipsy snickers and ‘ooh’s, and you felt Sungchan jostle a little as someone had presumably given him a teasing shove.

“Alright, guys. You can cut it out now,” Sungchan spoke over them authoritatively. He then looked down to you, features softening. “Sorry. Anyway, this is Donghyuck, he’s on the team and in Nu Chi—”

He pointed to the boy right next to him, wearing a very classic vampire costume splattered with a little bit of fake blood or fruit punch (you couldn’t tell in the poor lighting), and you wondered if he had also gone to a Halloween store last-minute like you. You knew him both from the game, and from a couple times you’d seen him with Chenle outside of frat or hockey events.

“Mark, frat president and he’s on the hockey team—” He was next to Donghyuck, dressed as Spiderman. You were already familiar with Mark, both from the game, and a group project in a class last year. You wondered if Mark remembered that.

“Ten, hockey and Nu Chi—” Ten was reclined on the couch, a top hat that had presumably been on his head earlier now resting on his propped up knee. Between that and his eyepatch, he clearly was dressed as some character that you couldn’t identify in the moment. You knew Ten outside of hockey, the frat, or even Chenle. He was a Lit major, so you had shared classes and study groups over the years. He raised a friendly hand in greeting.

“Sicheng, my co-captain and he’s in Nu Chi, too—” He was on the couch with Ten, sequestered to one corner as his teammate was taking up most of the space with his legs. Sicheng was dressed up as an angel, fake wings, little halo, and all. And you knew Sicheng through Ten, they’d been roommates since freshman year and could often be found together around campus. He gave you a nod of familiarity.

“Dejun, Nu Chi—” Sungchan had finally reached the man who was dressed as Venom.

“And you of course, unfortunately, know Hendery, Nu Chi.”

“Oh, boo, Sungchan,” Hendery stuck his tongue out at the captain.

You smiled and nodded a little bit at everyone else, but you were finding it hard to concentrate with the music in the background. Did it really need to be that loud?

“Y/N?” The sound of your name snapped your focus up, and you looked around for the source.

A few of the guys had gone back to their own conversations. Sungchan was looking down at you, head tilted inquisitively. Presumably he had been to the one to say your name.

“Oh, sorry,” you tried to give a nonchalant chuckle, but it was getting harder and harder to even articulate yourself with all the stimulation. “The music...”

“Oh!” Sungchan perked up at this. “Do you want to go dance?”

He was offering a hand out to you, and you stared down at it, mouth opening and closing as your brain felt like it was moving through sludge. You quite literally could not process what that string of words actually meant for a good second, and then it took even longer for you to even tie together the right way for you to respond. Cognitive fatigue. Oh this was not good. You squeezed your eyes shut, then open.

You again gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I’m- I’m kind of light-headed right now. Could you get me something to drink?”

His features immediately turned concerned. “Of course. Do you need to sit down or a ride h—”

“Can you just get me a drink?” Your brain was stuck in a perpetual loop now that it had locked onto one task. It took all of your energy just to regulate your tone enough to keep your voice (hopefully) as sweet as possible, despite the fact that you had cut him off.

“Of course. I’ll be right back.” He squeezed your upper arm reassuringly before taking off.

Your eyes were fixated on the spot where he had just been, your vision seeming to continuously zoom in and past your head. Squeezing your eyes shut once more, you took a deep breath through your mouth to try to recenter yourself. But it didn’t help any. Your head felt like a balloon that someone was overinflating, and you knew exactly what was coming next. You swallowed thickly, taking a second to look through the crowd. Nope, you couldn’t wait for Sungchan. Not like you could even verbalize much of anything right now. You had to go take your medication.

So you hurried into the crowd, clutching your tote bag to your chest like your life depended on it—which it really did. Mumbling ‘excuse me’s to everyone you shouldered, bumped into, or stepped on the toes of, you finally made it to a door that you were pretty sure was a bathroom. You tried the handle first, and when it gave in, you still knocked as you opened it, just in case. It was miraculously empty. Maybe there really was a God. Then, the balloon started to deflate, the pressure in your head inverted, becoming a harsh, squeezing pain instead. Nope, nope, definitely not a God. Or at least not a benevolent one.

You locked the door behind you with clumsy fingers and shuffled over to the sink. The countertop was in good enough condition for you to toss your bag up there and start rooting around through it. Bottle after bottle after bottle, then you finally secured the right two. You shook out a pill from one, then a pill from the other. The lights above the mirror were becoming more insufferable by the second. You cracked open the fresh bottle of water you had stored in your bag too, and knocked both pills back in one big gulp.

Tossing the water back into your bag, you could fucking finally flip the switch and turn the lights in the bathroom off. After feeling your way along the wall, you eventually found the bathtub, and sat yourself down. The music was somewhat muffled in here, and you figured this was going to be the darkest room in the whole Nu Chi house. Right now, your plan was to wait in here for your medication to kick in and hopefully stop this migraine before it really got going. Then you could make your great escape, and send Sungchan some bullshit apology text later. After tossing your witch hat to the ground vaguely beside your bag, you gently rested your head against the cool tile of the shower with a sigh. Chenle was right, you shouldn’t have come. Cynically, you thought that you should have timed it. See how long you lasted before you got a migraine. You’d be surprised if that was even 15 minutes.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Sungchan returned to the group with your requested drink in hand and another for himself, frowning when he immediately noticed your absence. “Hey, where’d Y/N go?”

“Oh, shit, uh…” Mark looked around with a baffled look on his face. “No clue dude, she was just here a second ago.”

“I’m going to go find her. Here.” He shoved both drinks into Hendery’s hands.

“Sungchan, come on, take a hint, man,” Donghyuck sighed, patting the taller boy’s shoulder sympathetically.

“What?”

“She asked you to get her something to drink and then slipped away when nobody was looking.”

“Y/N’s not like that.”

“And denial’s a river in Egypt.”

“No, she hasn’t been feeling well all night. I think. I’m going to go look for her.”

“So you’re admitting that you make her physically ill.”

“Dude, you’re just asking to get your shit rocked, you know that, right?” Ten warned him.

“Hey, I’m standing up for women—”

Mark cut him off, “Hyuck, you’re on your own if Sungchan decides to fuck your shit up. I don’t care if you’re my little, I’m not—”

“Oh, wahhh, my big strong big won’t protect me.”

“Christ, I swear he’s only had like four shots and a couple…”

His friends’ voices quickly faded into the din of the party as Sungchan pushed through the crowd. He couldn’t spot you, but found maybe the next best thing.

“Hey, Chenle.” He grabbed him by the elbow, turning him away from the arm wrestling competition between Jeno and Yangyang that he was spectating. Or, he at least hoped this was Chenle, it was a bit hard to tell with the zombie makeup.

“Hey, Romeo!” Chenle greeted him jovially, punching him in the shoulder over-zealously. Okay, definitely him.

“Have you seen Y/N? In the past like, five minutes or so?”

“You lost her?” The zombie asked angrily, cheerful mood immediately soured.

“Uh, yes? Sorry?”

“No, I’m not pissed at you,” he shook his head at Sungchan’s apology. “You go check the bathrooms, I’ll look outside. Don’t bother calling her, she’s not going to pick up.”

“What’s—”

But Chenle was already gone.

You weren’t sure how long you had been sitting in there for, but you could feel some of the overstimulation from the party beginning to slide off of you. Which could be either a good or bad thing. Cognitive fatigue was usually a prodrome and postdrome for you. Regaining some clarity could either mean that your medication was working and the migraine was going away, or you were about to enter the proper migraine phase. The fact that the pain hadn’t gone away was worrying. But at least it was dark, and relatively quiet. Oh, quiet... you could put in your earplugs now too.

Just as you had gone to grab for your bag, there was a knock at the bathroom door. You froze. Shit.

“Occupied!” You yelled out hesitantly to them, wincing at the loudness of your own voice. Okay, ow.

The person knocked again, harder.

“Seriously! Busy in here! Puking my brains out!” You yelled even louder, hoping they got the fucking idea this time. There was no way you wanted to have to actually get up and deal with a drunk partygoer that needed to piss and/or puke.

“Y/N? That you?” A familiar voice came through the door. “It’s Sungchan, can I come in?”

“Oh, sure, hold on.” You clambered out of the tub as carefully as you could in the dim lighting coming from under the door.

Against your better judgment, you turned one set of lights on in the bathroom, then cracked the bathroom door open. Sungchan was in fact on the other side, and you stepped back to let him in. He looked around the bathroom, worry on his face.

You shut the door behind him, saying sheepishly, “So, I was lying about the puking my brains out.”

“But you don’t look okay.” He peered down at your face as you were still wincing against the bright lights. “You didn’t drink anything tonight, what’s wrong?”

You went to sit on the side of the tub, feeling a pain in your eyes now. You gestured to the light switch. “Can you turn that light off?”

“Uh, okay…” He obliged, and the room was dim once again.

Your eyes adjusted quickly, and you could still see the general outline of everything in the room. Sitting back in the tub, you pulled your knees to your chest. Well, no chance for your great escape now. Sungchan climbed into the dry tub with you, facing you. He didn’t fit great in the small space, all gangly limbs, and your knees bumped into each other. But he sat there with you quietly.

“I’ve got a migraine coming on, I had to get somewhere quiet and dark and take my meds.” You told him bluntly, opting to just take the plunge. Not like you could even attempt flowery language at the moment anyway. Sure, some of your speech capabilities were coming back now that there was less sensory input, but you weren’t going to be doing any soliloquies tonight.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sungchan said quietly. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No, no. I actually- I actually don’t want to be alone right now, if that’s okay?” You surprised yourself with your answer.

“Yeah, of course.” He said reassuringly. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“I might not have drank but you did. I’ll be okay here, for the most part. I’m the one who came knowing that I get sound-induced migraines.”

“Wait, really?”

“Mm, yeah,” you pinched the bridge of your nose to alleviate some of the tension there for a moment. “Remember when I said Chenle pushes me out of my comfort zone in a good way most of the time?”

“Right.”

“One of the times it wasn’t... good was when he got an invite to Nu Chi’s Halloween party our freshman year, dragged me with him. And he always means the best when he does stuff like that. I hadn’t made any new friends at college, meanwhile he had a bunch, including some of the pledges at Nu Chi.”

“How he got the invite.”

“Exactly.” You needed to take a pause, resting your head against the cool tile again. After a few deep breaths, you pushed on in the story. “Anyway, we’d been there for a couple hours when the loudness and the music and everything finally got to me and I got a migraine. I had my go bag on me, and went to what I thought was an empty corner of the house to take my meds. But a couple other people saw me knocking back pills and wanted some. My head was hurting like a bitch, and they were trying to grab them from me and anyway, I spilled a bunch of them all over the floor, drenched myself with my water and their beer, and elbowed a dude and gave him a bloody nose.”

“Holy shit,” Sungchan breathed out.

You opened and closed your jaw a couple times to try to relax the muscles and joints there. “I couldn’t even open my eyes because my head hurt so bad. Chenle told me later I was screaming and Taeyong wanted to call an ambulance until Chenle ran up and explained what was happening. They put me, Chenle, and Jeno—turns out that’s whose nose I broke—in Taeyong’s room in the house for the rest of the night. Neither Chenle nor I were in any shape to drive ourselves home.”

“Wait is that how you met Jeno?”

“Yeah, and it turns out he wasn’t one of the ones trying to take my pills, he was trying to break up me and the people who were. Collateral damage.” You recounted it regrettably.

“When Jeno found out I’d invited you, he told me he’d keep his room clear in case we needed it. I thought he was just being a dick.” Sungchan sounded like he was having an epiphany. “Y/N, do you think you’ll be okay to move up a floor?”

The bass was thudding through the door, and you knew that if you stayed here when you transitioned into the throes of however bad this migraine fully got, you’d regret it. Grabbing your earplugs from your bag and putting them in, you gave him a thumbs-up and attempted a smile, but you knew it came out like more of a wince.

Sungchan kept you between him and the wall as you moved through the Nu Chi house, casting as much of a shadow against the garishly flashing lights as possible. Even through your earplugs, the music was raucous, people were practically screaming at each other, and you gripped one hand around his arm and the other onto his suit jacket to keep yourself balanced and to not lose him. When you got to the stairs, he fully wrapped an arm around your shoulders to jerk you out of the way of a drunk Nu Chi member stumbling his way down, and kept it there the rest of the way up. The noise was squeezing around your head like a vice, and you shut your eyes tight at the top of the stairs for a moment in an attempt to clear your head.

Sungchan’s voice was right beside your ear, muffled through the earplugs, “We’re almost there, Y/N, I’m sorry, come on.”

You were vaguely aware of the man with you feeling around on the top of a doorway before jiggling a doorhandle, and finally you were in a blissfully dark and quiet-ish room. Your head definitely hurt more than before, and you practically collapsed onto the bed.

“He was kind enough to stuff all his dirty clothes in the closet,” Sungchan muttered.

You managed a strangled chuckle at that, dropping your go bag onto the floor beside the bed. A moment of silence passed, and you could hear Sungchan awkwardly shifting his weight between his feet at the doorway.

“Sungchan,” you said his name, then patted the empty half of the bed beside you. “You can sit. I know Jeno doesn’t have any other furniture in here besides the bed and his PlayStation.”

“He probably only has a bedframe because it came with the room.”

You snickered, but were cut off by the squeezing pain turning to a sharp, stabbing pain behind your left eye, “Oh fuck!”

“Y/N?!” Sungchan was right beside you, and you felt the bed dip as he sat down beside you.

“Sorry, sorry, it feels like I’m getting an icepick lobotomy! Jesus!” You hissed, cupping a hand over your left eye as if that were actually going to do anything. “It’s normal, I’m fine. Relatively.”

“Okay…”

Still clutching your eye, you rolled onto your side and brought your knees up towards your chest. You blindly fumbled towards the head of the bed, and felt a pillow being pressed into your hand.

“Thanks,” you muttered, tucking it under your head.

“Do you want to lay under the covers?” Sungchan whispered.

“Do they smell like Jeno’s washed them in the past week?”

He laughed breathily at that, “Miraculously they do. I think he was planning on getting laid.”

“He gave up getting his dick wet for me. Jeno’s a real one,” you mumbled, feeling the covers that you were laying on top of being pulled out from under you.

Sungchan gently brought the sheet up to your shoulder, then a blanket too. The stabbing pain behind your eye was still there, and your stomach filled with dread as you acknowledged that your acute medication wasn’t going to be working this time. This was going to be a full-blown migraine, and who knew how many hours it would last.

“Thank you.”

“Is there anything else you need? Water?”

“No. Just uh, let me know when two hours have passed, I can take another dose of my meds that aren’t fucking working then.”

“Oh. Will do.”

You opened and closed your jaw, letting out a distinct groan. Another few minutes passed. Or, you think it was a few minutes, you couldn’t really check your phone for the time.

“Sungchan.”

“Yes?”

“You don’t have to stay. I’m sure the party is a lot more fun.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“…No.”

“I want to stay. I’m not going to have any fun out there knowing that you’re in all in this pain all alone in here.”

You squinted your right eye open, and had to crane your neck to look up at where Sungchan was sitting against the headboard. He had taken his suit jacket and shoes off at some point, now just in a rumpled dress shirt, loosened tie, slacks, and socks. He held your eye contact steadily, head tilted slightly and a frown across his handsome features.

Reaching your unoccupied hand up towards him, he watched it with confusion.

“What do you need? Your bag?”

“No.” You grabbed his hand, giving it a light squeeze.

“Oh.” An adorably radiant grin was on his face now instead.

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 1

Sungchan knew you’d finally fallen asleep when you stopped muttering swears and curses under your breath, the pained expression fell from your face, and your hand that was holding his went limp. He could still hear the party going strong outside of Jeno’s bedroom, and a glance at his phone told him it was just after one in the morning. He had no want to rejoin his friends, to leave you.

He took his tie all the way off, thinking to himself that if you were feeling better, you might have joked that he looked like Mulder the off-duty funeral director. And he would’ve laughed and watched the cute way the corners of your mouth quirked up when you said something that you thought was funny. He set the tie down with his shoes on the floor beside the bed.

Careful to stay on top of the covers that you were sleeping under, Sungchan shifted until he was laying down too, pillow tucked under his head, facing you on his side, hand still holding yours.

Like usual, you didn’t remember falling asleep, but you did remember shutting your eyes tight and wishing really hard for your head to stop hurting so bad. Or to die. Whichever the Universe felt like granting. And judging by the fact that you were now waking up without a migraine, it seemed like the former.

The first thing you were aware of before you even opened your eyes was that you felt like shit. Sure, your head didn’t hurt anymore, but jeez the morning after wasn’t much better. Tired, achy, and your brain felt like TV static.

The second thing that you were aware of, after opening your eyes, was Jung Sungchan just a few inches from your face. He was still asleep, soft bursts of air passing from his lips and mussing up strands of hair that were falling into his eyes. You didn’t quite have enough in you to coo over his bedhead, but you could give half of a fond smile as you pushed yourself into a sitting position, running a sleepy hand over one side of your face.

Only one of your earplugs was still in your ears, and you looked around the bedsheets for the other one. After securing it, you scooted over to the edge of the bed to put the plugs back into your carrying case before rolling back over and pulling the blankets over you again. You deserved this, honestly. Sleeping in late, a comfy bed, warm blankets, a cute boy next to you, nothing to—

Your happy thoughts were ripped away by the sound of a loud alarm. You shot up, scrambling towards your tote bag to grab your phone from the depths of it and turn your goddamn alarm off before it woke Sungchan up.

“Mm?”

Too late.

Sheepishly, you looked over at him, “Sorry…”

“‘S okay,” he mumbled, flopping onto his back and rubbing a hand over his face. “How’s your head?”

“Better. A lot better, thanks.”

“Good, good.” He yawned, “Morning, by the way.”

“Good morning.”

His eyes were closed as he laid there, a hand resting on his chest, and you weren’t sure if he had fallen back asleep.

“…Sungchan?”

“Hm?”

Taking his inquisitive tone as a sign that you could keep talking, you said, “Uhm, that was the first time I’ve had anybody around for one my migraines in a while. I’m sorry if it was… well, I don’t know. What was it like for you?”

He opened his eyes, rolling onto his side to face you and tucking a hand under his cheek, “Oh, uh, I mean, I wasn’t quite worried, since you seemed like you knew exactly what was happening, you know? But still, I… I was wishing there was more I could do. It was weird knowing that you were in pain but not being able to see where it hurt.”

“I should’ve figured that might be upsetting. Sorry about all that.”

“No, Y/N, it's okay. I get it, you just wanted someone with you when you were hurting.”

“Yeah, yeah, I did,” you nodded, curling one of your hands into a fist in your lap, digging your nails into your palm in an attempt to not cry at how easily he saw right into you.

“I was more than happy to sit with you.”

“I’ve had these stupid migraines for years now. Tried every treatment in the book, been on every regiment. And my friends and family, they don’t treat me like I’m made of glass or anything, which I’m grateful for. Everyone in my life knows I’m a pro at it all: I’ve got my go bag, all my meds, my alarms, I’ve been going to doctors’ appointments, testing, everything for years. But like... they still hurt. The migraines still fucking hurt.” Your voice cracked over the word, and your nails dug in deeper. “And I just… think they forget that part sometimes? I don’t know, I guess they hear the word ‘migraine’ thousands of times over the years it sort of loses its meaning. They kind of forget what one actually is. But it hurts Sungchan, my head just hurts for hours or even days, sometimes so bad I throw up from the pain. I can’t do anything but lay in bed in the dark and cry. Last night’s wasn’t that bad but still… thank you. I needed for it to all be real to somebody.”

Sungchan pushed up into a sitting position, and through your watery vision you could see that his brows were furrowed. You followed where his gaze was locked, and watched as he gently unfurled your fingers. You used the thumb of your other hand to rub at the divots that your nails had left in your skin.

“The migraines are why I’ve been all weird, by the way.” You added, trying to ignore the strain in your voice.

“What?”

“When you wanted to buy me a drink after the game. One of my migraine medications that I take, I can’t drink alcohol on it. It just felt like a weird and long explanation to have to give in the moment. And when you asked if I wanted to dance with you last night, the music would’ve made the migraine come on quicker than it did, but explaining it to you then, again it felt like it would’ve ruined the moment even more.”

“Oh… don’t worry about it.”

There was still one big thing you hadn’t smoothed over. But it looks like you’re on man-shaped friend duties tonight, Sungchan. Stupid, stupid.

Pushing through the discomfort prickling at your skin, you asked, “Sungchan, do you want to go on a date?”

“A…” He looked you dead in the eyes for a moment, mouth parted, and blinked once, twice before he was absolutely beaming at you. “Yeah, yes, I do.”

“Okay.” You couldn’t help but giggle, nerves buzzing through you as your chest was airy and you were lightheaded for two reasons now, “Okay, good.”

“Is it bad for me to say that I’m relieved? That you have migraines? Well, not that you have them, because obviously they hurt, but like, that this is what it was? I seriously thought I was being stupid, like mixed signals or something. Like, you came to my game but then you didn’t want to go to the bar.” He ticked the instances off on the fingers of one hand.

“Medication,” you nodded.

“Right. Then you let me walk you home after, but you called me your friend.”

“That was just plain stupidity,” you admitted with a groan at having to relive that moment again.

“And you said yes to coming to the party, but then you didn’t want to dance with me,” Sungchan had now run out of fingers and dropped his hand back down to the bed.

“The music...”

“And when you disappeared, I thought you left because you didn’t like me. I just… felt like I was going crazy.”

“It’s not awful of you to be relieved about this. I’m sorry, Sungchan. Migraines aren’t conducive to romance, apparently.”

“Oh, bullshit.” He pushed back immediately. “They’re just not conducive to drinking and loud parties. That’s not romance.”

“Alright, fair. I’m wont to agree with you.”

“And you need to stop apologizing for your migraines. It’s not like you’re doing it on purpose.”

“Well, I did come to a loud ass party knowing I’d probably get a sound-induced migraine.”

“Okay, aside from that— which, I’m very flattered by and will never ever ask you to do anything like this ever again.”

“Okay.”

Suddenly the door handle rattled, then there was a banging on the door. “Hey! Are you two done in there?” Jeno yelled through the wood. “You better not be having post-headache sex on my bed!”

“Seems like he didn’t get laid last night,” Sungchan muttered.

“If he keeps up that pounding I’m going to get a rebound headache and he’s going to wake the entire house, please let him in,” you groaned.

The boy with you quickly moved to do so, unlocking the door and throwing it open to whisper aggressively, “Jeno! Shut the fuck up! People are still sleeping!”

“Oh. You’re dressed.”

You rolled your eyes at your friend, “I don’t know what you think a migraine is like, but getting my back blown out is pretty far down on my to-do list for immediately after.”

“How are you feeling?” Jeno was nice enough to ask as he rooted through his closet.

“Like shit. While you guys nurse actual hangovers today, I get to nurse a migraine hangover. Same awful morning after without the fun night before.”

“That sucks.” He secured a rumpled shirt and inside out pair of sweatpants. “I told Chenle you were crashing here last night, by the way. He didn’t just abandon you for shits and giggles.”

“Oh, thanks. He was sober enough to drive?”

“Mark had a Breathalyzer and everything.”

“Wow…”

“Now I recommend you two get the fuck out before everyone else wakes up and sees you sneaking out together.”

“Right,” Sungchan nodded, sitting on the edge of Jeno’s bed and pulling his shoes on.

You quickly gathered your shoes, phone, witch hat, and go bag before giving Jeno a short goodbye and following Sungchan out. The Nu Chi house was thankfully quiet as everyone was still asleep in their own rooms, save for the partygoers and brothers who had passed out on the couches in the living rooms. Once you were on the front porch, the two of you dared to speak again.

“I’ll drive you home, Y/N,” Sungchan offered.

“Mhm, thanks,” you squinted against the bright sunlight, reaching into your bag for the spare pair of sunglasses you kept in there.

He gestured to your bag. “So what all do you have in there?”

“Everything but the kitchen sink.” You sighed, finally securing your sunglasses and putting them on. They did help, but you knew there was no way you were going to avoid a rebound headache today. Realizing that Sungchan might actually have been genuinely asking and wasn’t just trying to be polite, you decided to give him a sincere answer as well. “Uh, my meds, my blood pressure cuff, earplugs, sunglasses, some snacks, other miscellaneous non-migraine related stuff like an umbrella.”

“Blood pressure cuff?” He stopped in front of a sedan parked on the street, and opened the passenger door for you.

Even through your unpleasant migraine hangover, you couldn’t help the giddy smile that crossed your lips at the gesture.

Once the both of you were in the car, you explained, “One of my medications affects my blood pressure. I have to check it every few hours, or whenever I feel kind of funny. That’s partially what the snacks are for too.”

“Really?” He started the car and pulled out into the street.

“Most of my meds I need to take with food, so keeping snacks on me makes it easy. The sweet ones are in case my blood sugar drops though.”

“Blood sugar too?”

“A different medication affects my appetite, secondary effect is on my blood sugar. Fun fact, it’s the same one that keeps me from drinking alcohol. Anyway, if you’re ever craving something sweet, I keep gummies and stuff on me usually.”

Sungchan let out a deep breath. “Wow…”

“Oh and water.” You perked up as you realized you’d forgotten something, and reached in for said item. “I've got my water bottle. I need water to take my meds, obviously, but I also need to drink water to make sure I don’t get kidney stones from my medication.”

The car had stopped at a stoplight, and he looked over at you in disbelief. “What the fuck.”

“Hey, it’s this or be entirely unable to participate in society.” You explained. “I used to get five or six migraines a week, with really bad or mild headaches constantly in between. I couldn’t do anything, they were disabling. Clearly, they still are now when I do get them, but I only get one or two a month.”

“I can’t imagine— I… yeah…” He trailed off as the light turned green, a deep frown etching itself on his features as he clearly was trying to imagine what a huge shift in his life that would be. And was having a hard time doing so.

“People without chronic illnesses usually can’t, until they get one,” you shrugged. “I know I couldn’t imagine it either. Then I got my first migraine. Then my second, and my third. I think the ‘chronic illness’ part really hit for me when I had to order my first sharps disposal bin for the monthly injections I take.”

“You’re…”

“Do not say that I’m so strong or any live laugh love type shit right now.”

He laughed, shaking his head, “No, no, not what I was going to say. I was just thinking… you’re really cool.”

“I just info-dumped about my migraines, medication, medication side effects, and treatment to you for ten minutes straight and that’s the conclusion you came to?” You asked in disbelief as he pulled into your apartment complex, and it dawned on you just how long you had been talking about yourself for. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been that detailed with someone other than your neurologist or your mom about your condition and treatment.

Sungchan put his car in park to turn and look you in the eye. “I’m looking at the bigger picture here: You’re a Lit major, you like Gothic fiction, you’re good at writing, you’re smart and know things like death of the author and stuff, you like Pacific Rim, you’ve come to one of my games, you’re funny, and you just info-dumped to me about something personal for ten minutes. So yes, I think you’re cool. Actually, cool might be an understatement.”

“Jung Sungchan, you…” Your cheeks were hurting with how wide you were grinning. Whether it was the migraine hangover or truly from how warm and happy his words made you, you couldn’t formulate a proper response, “Congrats, I’m speechless.”

“I think that's good?” He laughed again. “Anyway, you told Jeno earlier that you felt like shit, so I won’t hold you up anymore. Rest well today, Y/N.”

“Thanks. You too, Sungchan.” You wrapped your hand around the door handle but stopped just short of actually opening it. “Oh, and uhm, I don’t know if this too eager or whatever, but I’m free tomorrow.”

His face lit up with recognition at what you were implying. “Me too. But are you going to be okay? Like, recovered?”

“Yeah, I’ve got all day today to sleep it off.”

“Okay.” He grinned.

“Okay.” You repeated. “Text me?”

“Yes, yes. I will.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

And with that, you got out of his car, making sure to take your go bag that had been on your lap for the whole drive.

Halfway to your front door, you turned around to give Sungchan a final wave goodbye, and he waved back through the windshield. Once you’d finally disappeared into your apartment, he looked over at his now empty passenger seat. Well, not completely empty, he realized. Your witch hat was on the floor of the passenger side, you’d forgotten to grab it on your way out. He picked it up, gently setting it on the seat beside him. He’d just give it back to you when he saw you again for your date tomorrow.

“A date,” Sungchan sighed happily, feeling his chest swell and nearly burst with joy. “A date, a date, a date.”

Putting his car in reverse, he looked through the rear window as he muttered, “Suck an egg, Donghyuck. Man-shaped friend, my ass.”

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 2

Sungchan picked you up at 7:00 p.m. on the dot for your first date. You made sure to take your nighttime meds early and silence your alarms so there was nothing to bother you that night. Migraines notwithstanding, of course. You still had to bring your go bag just in case you needed anything acute, but you didn’t think twice about leaving the majority of it in the car, tucking just a couple individually packaged tablets into your pocket before accepting Sungchan’s hand that he offered to you after opening your car door for you.

Walking into the movie theater with him after he bought your tickets, you were about to start off in the direction that the usher had pointed you when your date stopped you.

“You want anything from concessions?” He nodded towards the long line of other couples, families, and groups of friends.

“I’m not big on overpriced popcorn,” you shook your head with a smile. “Thanks though, Sungchan.”

“You sure you don’t want a soda or candy? How’s your, you know, blood sugar?”

It was then that your polite smile morphed into a genuine, touched one, and you squeezed his hand that you were holding. “I’m doing good, promise. I made sure I ate before. But thank you, seriously. You’re really sweet.”

“Okay, but let me know if you need anything.”

“Sungchan, can I tell you something?” You ducked your head in towards him conspiratorially.

“Yeah, of course.”

You gently shook one side of your jacket, and a muffled rattling sound came from within it. “I snuck a bag of Skittles in,” you whispered to him.

He chuckled as you dropped your jacket back down and smoothed over the inside pocket inconspicuously. “Two steps ahead of me.”

“I just didn’t want to ruin our date if I got low.”

“It’s very thoughtful, thanks.”

“So are you!” You tried to reassure him.

The two of you entered where your movie would be showing, and picked your seats. The previews had already started, so you had to drop your voices to whispers.

“But you’re going to be good with the bright light, and the sounds?” Sungchan double-checked with you.

You nodded insistently. “You’re the one who made me compile a list of stuff that I could do, remember?”

“I know, but you also came to that party knowing that it was like 100% guaranteed to give you a migraine. So I think I’ve earned some skepticism.”

“Okay, fine. You got me there,” you sighed. “But I get nothing out of suggesting things that will give me migraines other than cutting our time together short. Which I don’t want to do.”

Sungchan shifted in his seat, and when you looked over at him, you could see a small, bashful smile on his face. “Good. Glad we got that cleared up.”

The previews finally ended, and the entire theater quieted down, including you two. You settled in to watch the movie, scooting closer to your date, looping your arm under his, and resting your head on his shoulder. He hesitantly leaned his head against the top of yours.

As you left the theater hand-in-hand with Sungchan, you two were deep in discussion about the movie, and in the back of your mind, you realized with a panic that you had far too much that you wanted to say that wouldn’t fit into the short ride back to your apartment. Not to mention that you didn’t want your night with him to be over yet.

“Hey.” You called for his attention as he opened up the passenger door for you, stopping before you got in the car.

“Hey.” He offered you a lopsided grin, still holding the door open with one hand and now caging you between him and the open car door.

If the parking lot wasn’t literally swarming with other movie theater patrons, you swore you would’ve grabbed him and kissed him stupid right there and then. But a family of five walked by at that moment, so you swallowed down the itch.

“We should go somewhere,” you suggested, trying to sound equal parts nonchalant and hopeful. Which was a weird combination, you knew, but you didn’t want to come across as too desperate. Again, a ridiculous sentiment, but it was engrained in you with social conditioning or whatever.

“We just went somewhere,” he pointed out knowingly, and you swore that was a smirk that you spotted on his face in the shadowy lighting afforded by the parking lot streetlamps.

“We should go somewhere else.”

“Like where?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, despite how desperate you felt on the inside to just be around him right now. “Somewhere. Are you hungry?”

“Are you?”

You pressed your lips together in a thin line. “Well—”

Finally, he smiled, nodded towards the car, and said, “I know somewhere. Get in.”

Sungchan closed the car door after you before walking around to get into the driver’s side. He didn’t offer you any information or clues as to your new destination as he left the movie theater parking lot. The hockey captain drove with one hand casually holding the bottom of the steering wheel, the other tapping out the rhythm of whatever song was playing over his speakers onto his thigh. You dragged your eyes from his fingers to the passing scenery.

Honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d been on a good date. Even the last date you’d been on was a distant memory. Lunch with some CompSci major your freshman year, a blind date set up by a mutual acquaintance. He just talked over you the whole time. You didn’t deign to go on a second date with him. It wasn’t that your migraines made it impossible to date—they hadn’t even come up at the date with the CompSci major (mostly because he didn’t give you the opportunity to say much of anything)—but you knew that it was always going to be something to get out of way. Either up front or at some point down the line. And it was exhausting enough for you to have to completely restructure your life around them, how could you really ask some stranger who barely knew you—or didn’t at all—to consider doing the same? It felt like it just made your dating pool even narrower, an added standard that you didn’t even get to pick.

But with Sungchan, it had happened in the worst way possible, you disappeared on him because you were having a migraine, without even having told him anything about them. And not only was he more than chill about it, he stayed with you through your entire full-blown migraine. Listened to you explain every ailment, medication, and medication complication that you have, and just tucked all that information away to keep track of your wellbeing. Taken it all in stride and made it look easy. And that was before your first date. It almost made you angry. Not at Sungchan, but at the fact that other people had ever made you feel like an inconvenience.

The car slowing to a stop knocked you from your thoughts, and you didn’t even realize that you had been silent for the entire trip. Sungchan didn’t seem to mind, though, as he hadn’t tried to start a conversation either. He put the car in park as you looked around, trying to gauge where exactly you were.

“Are we… on campus?” You turned to him with an eyebrow raised.

He was already out of the car, though, jogging around to get your door. As he opened it for you, he tilted his head innocently, “What was that?”

You stepped out, taking in your surroundings. “Are we at a campus parking garage?”

“Specifically, the top floor of Evergreen Parking Garage,” Sungchan clarified, rolling the passenger window down.

Evergreen Parking Garage was a commuter-only parking facility, meaning that this level was empty this late at night. It was also located at the furthest reaches of the north block of campus, which bordered a nature preserve, meaning that while on one side was your university campus, the other side was entirely evergreen trees. Hence the name.

Sungchan had parked on the side that faced the nature preserve, and as you turned to question your date as to why exactly he’d taken you to campus, you were instead greeted by the sight of him hunched over to lean into the open passenger window, seemingly messing around with the audio controls of the still-running car.

You tilted your head to one side, then the other as you just watched him struggle for a moment before finally speaking up. “What uh… What are you doing, Sungchan?”

He banged his head on the frame of the window as he went to stand back up. “Fuck! Ow…”

Covering your hand to muffle your giggles, you waited patiently for him to turn around and answer you.

Still clutching his head, he said with a sheepish smile, “Just give me a sec, sorry. Technical difficulties.”

And with that, he opened the door to properly sit in the passenger seat, futzing with his phone and the car radio. Finally, there was music playing from the speakers as opposed to the radio station ads, and he turned the volume up before getting back out of the car and shutting the door. With both the driver and passenger windows rolled down, you could hear the song clearly.

“I was originally going to try to take you to this lookout, but there were other cars there, so I had to keep driving by it and oh my god why did I tell you that—” He scratched the back of his head nervously. “Anyway, since we didn’t get to dance at the party…”

Sungchan offered his hand out to you, and you set yours atop it. The upbeat song that had been playing finished just then, switching to a much slower, softer one. You stepped in closer, smiling up at him as you looped your free arm around his neck. His other hand settled on your hip, and he slowly started leading you in an uncertain sway of sorts.

You let out an airy chuckle, “Was this really the kind of dancing you had in mind for a frat party?”

“Would you believe me if I said yes?” He questioned.

“Would you believe me if I said that I believed you?”

“No.”

You snickered. “Smart man.”

“But this is good, too. Better, even.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, there’s not a bunch of other drunk, sweaty, loud people everywhere knocking into us. I don’t have to worry about somebody spilling beer on me, or other guys looking at you, or the DJ picking something bad. Or you getting a migraine.” Sungchan slotted his fingers with yours. “I just get to think about you.”

You rested your head on his chest, eyes zoning out on your linked hands. It was his right hand, so his pinky finger couldn’t quite fold down along with the others. “Yeah. I like this, too,” you agreed softly.

A cool breeze gently blew across your cheek that wasn’t resting on Sungchan’s chest, and you were glad for the warmth of him pressed against your front. Your feet awkwardly bumped into each other, making you chuckle, and he apologized with a nervous laugh.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I haven’t exactly taken any ballroom dancing classes. Have you?”

“Well...”

You jerked your head back to look him in the face. “You have?”

“You know how Greek life has those formals every year?”

“You’re not in a frat...”

“No, I’m not. But freshman year, Nu Chi had pitched in for this dance teacher and— God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” Sungchan said regretfully, tilting his head back to look up in embarrassment.

“Sungchan, come on!” You pleaded.

“Hendery swore me to secrecy...”

“Well now you have to tell me!”

“Hendery’s date couldn’t make it to one of the lessons, so he asked me to fill in for her...”

Your jaw dropped with delight, “Was his date an Amazon? How did that work? He couldn’t have possibly dipped you! Or twirled you!”

“She was taller than him, to be fair,” he admitted. “Nothing that couldn’t be adjusted for with some thick soles, but, you know...”

“You’re such a good friend, Sungchan,” you said through a couple of giggles, imagining the two of them attempting the aforementioned twirls and dips.

He dropped his head, shaking it. “Right, thanks.”

“So I guess I should be leading then, hm?” You teased, your feet bumping his again in that moment.

“I feel like you’d lead us over the edge of this parking deck, Y/N,” he joked.

Before you could make a retort, he stepped back from you to gently twirl you around by the hand, and a cross between a surprised yelp and a laugh tumbled from your mouth. As he brought you back into his chest, you could barely think over the joyful buzzing in your head that resonated out to every square inch of your body.

“Okay, okay, I guess you can lead,” you surrendered, looping your arm back around his neck again.

After some time, the songs had picked up tempo again, but you and Sungchan were long past actually dancing to them. You were more so just holding each other, leisurely swaying, and from here you got to listen to the sounds of his breathing. He’d taken to rubbing absentminded circles into your hip with his thumb, and the fingers of your arm that was around his neck had dipped below the material of his collar, resting on his bare skin.

“Sungchan?” You murmured.

“Yes?” He responded, his voice rumbling right under your ear.

“Thank you for not making me do this in front of a bunch of other cars at the other lookout.”

He let out a couple quiet laughs, his chest shaking with each. “You’re welcome. I figured all of the teens making out in their cars also didn’t want to watch us do this either.”

You mock gasped, pretending to sound scandalized, “You were going to take me to a lover’s lookout? On the first date? Jung Sungchan…”

“Who are you, my grandma? Nobody calls it that anymore.” He pinched your side. “And only because it’s actually got a great view over the city and—”

“I’m kidding, Sungchan.” You pinched him back, lightly, on the nape of the neck. “Besides, I wouldn’t have been opposed to a trip to a lover’s lookout with you anyway…”

You heard the breath hitch in his throat, then Sungchan swallowed and inhaled through his nose, before he finally spoke, “Really?”

His grip on your hip tightened, sending a bolt of electricity along your skin out from the contact point. You brought your head out of his chest and used your arm around his neck to draw him in even closer.

“Really,” you echoed, blatantly staring at his lips now that they were centimeters away from yours. “And it looks like we’ve got our own right here.”

Then Sungchan was using his hold on your hip to push you back step by step until your back was against the side of his car. Your own arm around his neck kept him anchored to you as he stood hovering over you, blotting out any light that would’ve come from the light post above you. Your noses were almost touching, your breaths mingling in the negligible space between your mouths. You were looking at Sungchan’s eyes now, usually a warm, deep brown, now all inky blackness in the dark of night, and staring down at your own mouth. Your tongue instinctually darted out to wet your lips, and that seemed to be the final straw.

His mouth on yours was desperate, but not desperate to get laid, like your previous lover’s lookout banter might imply. Like he was just desperate for you. He stole kiss after kiss from your lips, but never forced his tongue into your mouth, nor moved his hands anywhere else. Despite leaning more and more of his weight forward onto you, utterly pinning you to the car, he kept his bruising grip on your hip and never let go of your hand.

You parted your mouth with a bedraggled gasp of his name, and he finally took this as an invite to slip his tongue into the mix. You shifted to rest the hand that was laced with his above your head, on the roof of the sedan, giving his hand a squeeze. He squeezed your hand back.

Turning your head and breaking the kiss, you hoped he’d get the idea as you continued laying there half-spread out under him. He did, thankfully, kissing from the corner of your mouth across your cheek and down your jaw and neck.

“Sung…chan…” You breathed out his name, stroking the back of his head with your free hand as his lips latched onto a spot at the base of your neck.

Trailing your hand down further, you snuck it up under the hem of his shirt, feeling over the expanse of his chest and stomach. Oh fuck yeah, hockey players. You pulled the article of clothing up towards his head insistently, and he detached from your neck for the two of you to jointly strip him of it. Oh fuck yeah, hockey players. You truly didn’t know if he looked or felt better, but you couldn’t ogle him for long, because he was back on top of you as soon as he’d thrown the shirt into the front seat via the open passenger window beside you. His lips were so warm on yours, his skin even hotter under your touch now as you unabashedly felt up every inch of it and the muscles underneath.

But soon that wasn’t enough either, and you were fumbling at his pants button. He groaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating down into your own chest, as his hand snapped around your wrist.

“Ahh…” He hissed regretfully.

“What?” You looked up at him with wide eyes.

“I can’t get my dick out in public.”

You glanced at the car behind you, with its tinted windows, then back at Sungchan. He met your eyes, then shrugged. “That’ll work.”

It was a mad scramble to get the door to the backseat open, so much so that you accidentally smacked Sungchan in the leg with said door. After lots of apologies through giggles, both of you were in the backseat with the doors closed and locked. Sungchan had the task of awkwardly reaching forward over the console to roll the windows back up first, during which you made a couple observations about his backseat, which you hadn’t seen much of before. His practice bag for hockey was back here—which was different than his gear bag, as you’d already been told. The gear bag actually had his equipment that he needed to play with like mouth guards, sticks, and all of that, while his practice bag had more personal stuff like changes of clothes or hygiene products. You figured his gear bag was either in the trunk or at the rink, as he didn’t always need to carry it back and forth with him. But other than the practice bag and a couple of reusable grocery bags on the floor, the backseat was pretty clean. You were genuinely impressed, especially because he made it sound like he tended to chauffeur a lot of his teammates/roommates around frequently.

Sungchan eventually reentered the backseat fully, focusing a content, closed-lip smile on you. You’d taken it upon yourself to lay down on the seat, your knees propped up by your feet. He settled in to kneel on the same cushion as your feet, but just rested an arm on your knees and his chin atop that forearm to gaze down at you, still smiling.

“What? What’s that smile for?” You asked, starting to feel a bit self-conscious.

“Nothing, I just—” He reached both his hands out towards you, fingers spread, and you got the idea, linking yours with them. “I hope you don’t get the wrong idea. I want this to be a real thing, Y/N. Like, I don’t just want to sleep with you. I don’t even do this kind of stuff—car sex on the first date in a campus parking garage?—literally ever. I’m just kinda crazy about you. I know for most people usually it’s the opposite; you know, they save it for later for really important people. They try to make it special, but I know it’ll be special just because it’s you.”

“Sungchan... I’ve never done something like this either,” you admitted, squeezing both of his hands tight. “I think I’m just kinda crazy about you too.”

“Okay. Cool.” He beamed at you, and you felt your insides turn to mush in that moment. You didn’t think they’d ever un-mush again.

“Now can you please take my clothes off before I spontaneously combust?”

“Fuck. Yeah.” He nodded, immediately turning serious as his brow furrowed and he leaned forward to lock his lips with yours again, propping himself up with one hand to hover above you.

You let your knees fall apart to give him room to settle in between your legs. He pulled at your jacket first, and you sat up to help yank it off, dropping it to the floor with his practice bag. With you no longer laying down, he could use two hands to get the next part, your top. His fingertips skimmed along your skin as he grabbed the hem. You broke the kiss so he could start pulling the clothing up your body—

A loud knock against the driver’s side window quite literally made you scream, and Sungchan jerked up and hit his head once again, this time on the roof of the car. You tugged your shirt back down to cover you, ducking to lay flat on the seat as Sungchan looked at you with panic in his eyes.

Another knock came at the window, this time accompanied by a man’s voice, “Campus security! Roll the window down or I’m going to ask you to turn the car off and step out!”

“Just a second!” Sungchan yelled back, a noticeable crack in his voice. He had a difficult time maneuvering his lanky body over the console fully into the driver’s seat again.

“Now!” The man called out again. “Three! Two!”

Sungchan didn’t have time to put on his shirt before ‘one,’ and he rushed to roll the window down. A flashlight was immediately shone into the car, and you didn’t doubt your own visibility to the security officer. You were remaining laying down for your own mental wellbeing at this point. You didn’t think that you could deal with looking this man in the eye right now.

You didn’t know if it was wisdom or embarrassment that kept your date from saying anything, but he thankfully didn’t speak until spoken to, not offering up any incriminating information. After five entire seconds of silence, the officer let out an audible sigh.

“No overnight parking in this garage,” he said, his tone making it very clear that he knew that was not what was going on. “I’ll be back in five minutes and if you’re still here, you’re getting a ticket.”

“Yes, sir,” Sungchan replied.

“I’m sure that the captain of our hockey team wouldn’t want to get put on probation at the beginning of the season.”

“N-No, sir.” His voice cracked again.

The security officer grunted, but said nothing more. You heard Sungchan roll the window back up, then the sound of another car driving away. Slowly, Sungchan turned around to look at you over the console with wide, horrified eyes.

“He knew who I was…” He whispered. “That was the most terrifying 45 seconds of my life.”

“You’re famous, Sungchan,” you teased, sitting up in the backseat now that the coast was clear.

“Yeah, and fame has got so many perks so far.”

“Almost got into your first scandal already.” You clicked your tongue disapprovingly. “Caught with a girl in your backseat. What will the fans say?”

“Considering my fans are all frat bros, probably something along the lines of wolf whistles and incoherent, congratulatory lewd jeering.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, able to picture that perfectly considering you’d already gotten a taste at the first home game you’d gone to. “Sounds about right.”

“Anyway, I should take you home before that guy comes back.”

“Good idea.” You slipped your jacket back on.

“Are you going to come up here or am I your chauffeur?”

“I suppose I’ll sit up there with you,” you sighed, opening the backseat to get out and into the front normally since there was no security man around.

Back in the passenger seat, you handed Sungchan’s shirt back to him, “Here, have some decency. You’re the captain of the hockey team, you know.”

“I’m sorry, who was going to spontaneously combust if we didn’t get naked in the next 0.2 seconds?” He scoffed, pulling his top back on.

“I don’t recall.”

“Sure.”

“And who’s still hard in their jeans right now?”

“Don’t remind me, I have to drive like this,” he groaned, taking the car out of park with a shake of his head.

As Sungchan drove with one hand, the other reached over to take yours, lacing his fingers together with yours.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 6

Just a few days later, and you were at the rink again, eagerly watching the hockey game in front of you. Chenle was beside you, continuing his constant sports commentary on every play that happened. You still mostly tuned it out, but you were pretty sure you at least understood most of the basic rules that Taeyong had explained to you before. You kept your eyes on Sungchan, cheering him on along with the other various Nu Chi brothers around you and other fans in the stands. It wasn’t as full of a house as it had been for the first home game, but you were perfectly content to have a slightly quieter environment.

Sungchan happened to skate by your section as everyone was resetting their positions, giving you a wave through the clear barrier. You gave him a slightly bashful but nevertheless bright grin as you waved back.

“So are you two like... dating now?” Hendery asked from your other side, leaned forward with both of his elbows on his knees as he watched the game. He looked back at you over his shoulder with a shit-eating grin, though, one that made you roll your eyes.

“I don’t know. We’ve been on a date. I mean, there was the Halloween party, but I got a migraine so I don’t think that really counts, so— I don’t have to explain myself to you!” You scowled at him, shoving him away by his shoulder.

He laughed as he let himself get jostled around in his seat from the push, holding his hands up in surrender. “Just curious. Unlike your bestie over there, I think you two are adorable.”

“What?” You looked over at Chenle, who Hendery had pointed at.

Chenle had apparently been listening enough to be able to jump in to defend himself. “It’s not what it sounds like. I think you two are great, promise.”

You turned back to your other friend. “Then what the hell are you talking about, Hendery?”

“He just doesn’t want to lose,” the Nu Chi member explained. “I pegged Sungchan’s huge crush on you on day 1 of Dr. Son’s class. Once the Phanta Phour stuff started, I knew that boy had no chance. Chenle just didn’t think you’d ever... hold on, how’d he put it... be into uh, ‘Neanderthal frat-bro-in-law types.’”

“I was maybe a bit tipsy...” Chenle added in.

“So you made a bet on if Sungchan and I would get together? In four whole years?” You looked from left to right between them.

“Loser has to buy winner a 12-pack,” Hendery confirmed with that same grin. “When Phantasmagorical Phriday ended this year, I really thought I’d lost. But then you turned up at the game last week and I figured Sungchan just might score himself a buzzer beater.”

“You two need to get better hobbies,” you declared with a snort.

“This so counts as sudden-death OT, but whatever,” Chenle scoffed under his breath.

You smacked him across the chest. “And don’t call my dating life ‘sudden death’ either.”

“Hey.” He said softly, grabbing your arm, and you turned your head to meet his gaze. “I really was worried about you going to the Halloween party with your head. I swear.”

“I know, LeLe,” you nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “You did some great wingmanning once we got there.”

The brief flash of sincerity you got from your best friend was over as quick as it had come, as you heard the crash of helmets on the ice, and both your focuses were drawn back to the game. Two players had collided into each other and the clear barrier right in front of your faces. You grimaced sympathetically as you tried to identify the player from your team. 23— Jeno, ah, he’d be alright. And you were right, he took off almost immediately as the other guy was left behind still dazed.

At the end of the game, with the buzz of another win in your veins and the anticipation of seeing Sungchan thrumming along your skin, you bounced on your heels as you waited in the lobby. You weren't paying attention to the ecstatic, dramatic recollections that Chenle and the Nu Chi brothers were giving of specific plays around you, your gaze entirely focused on the locker room exit.

The very first player to leave was Sungchan, his eyes already scanning the crowd. Without a second thought, you darted over to him, ignoring the couple of whoops and whistles you two got from your friends.

Sungchan beamed down at you as he went to pull you into a hug, and you were immediately enveloped in the smell of the freshly washed clothes that you’d caught last time. This time, though, there was the distinct, crisp smell of ice rink ice under it as well, reminding you of when you’d go ice skating with friends.

“Hey,” you smiled up at him as he let you go, but didn’t step back very far. “You played really good again. I’m pretty sure. A bit more sure than I was last time.”

He was still grinning, looking down at the floor then back up at you before he responded, “Thank you. And I don’t really expect you to become a hockey pro or anything if all that doesn’t interest you. As long as you don’t expect me to remember what death of the author is.”

“This was only my second game, have some faith in me!” You cried out indignantly. “And no, I don’t expect you to become a full-blown literary critic either.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he apologized through a couple of poorly suppressed giggles. “I do believe in you. I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to learn boring sports stuff for me.”

“I do want to be able to follow the basics of a game without Chenle or Taeyong annotating it for me, at least.”

“Oh, yeah, you can definitely do that. Might need to come to a few more games, though...”

You nodded giddily. “Just let me know when the home games are and I’m there.”

“Yo!” A voice had called from the gaggle of guys heading towards the exit. You didn’t even realize that the rest of the team had left the locker room in the time that you’d been talking to Sungchan.

While you couldn’t tell who had gotten your attention, it was Donghyuck that asked, “Are you two coming or are you just going to keep making moony eyes at each other all night?”

“Yeah, Sungchan, you’re our ride!” Yangyang yelled out from somewhere.

“DD!” Jeno cheered.

“I’ll drive you two,” Mark offered with a shake of his head.

“Shotgun!” The two of them immediately dibs-ed in unison.

“Sorry, bitches, I’m his little,” Donghyuck declared. “That means eternal dibs on shotgun in Mark’s car.”

The frat president scoffed, “You only give a shit about that when it directly benefits you.”

“You guys go ahead,” Sungchan cut into their bickering. “We’re right behind you.”

After they had all filed out, he looked back down at you, a nervous smile worming across his face. “Sorry about that...”

“It’s okay,” you said. “So... you ready to go?”

The two of you had already discussed going to the after-game celebrations with the team before this. Sungchan texted you last night to check in and make sure you’d be okay with going from the loud game to a noisy bar/pool hall with a bunch of frat guys after. You’d assured him that you’d be okay as long as you sat away from any music speakers at the bar, and he’d in turn made you promise to tell him if you needed to leave early.

However, he now halted you as you were slowly turning towards the exit. “Wait, I want to try this again.”

With a sneaking suspicion of what he was about to do, you assured him, “Sungchan, you don’t have to—”

“Let me do this. Please.” He gave you those same eyes that had convinced you to go to a frat party in the first place, and you were squaring your shoulders back to face him, giving him a firm nod.

“Okay. Go for it.”

He asked casually, “So, did you drive yourself?”

You had to hold back a laugh, covering your mouth to straighten your face before replying coyly, “Oh, me? I walked. My apartment is close.”

“So, the team all goes out to this bar after home games. It’s a pretty sleazy dive bar, and I know it’s a Thursday night, but I’d really like for you to come with me. I’ll buy you a... soda.”

“I would love to come, Sungchan,” you giggled, adjusting your purse strap.

“Awesome,” he grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

As you walked up to the passenger side of his car with him, you suddenly realized something. “Wait, did you have your car last time, too?”

“Maybe?” He rubbed the back of his neck, reaching for the door handle to open it for you.

“Then why did you walk me home?”

“To spend more time with you?”

You stole a quick kiss before ducking into the passenger seat.

Squished into one side of a booth with Sungchan’s arm around you, you chatted happily with Chenle, Ten, and Sicheng, who were sitting opposite from you. The team and cheer section were spread out between a couple booths and tables near each other, a few of them up playing pool too. You sipped on your soda between discussions about tonight’s game, upcoming games, classes, or whatever else struck you all. Currently, you were locked in a conversation with Ten about the most recent assigned reading in a class that you two shared together this semester.

“I thought that scene had a lot of great allusions back to the earlier one with her mother and the pie baking,” you gushed.

“Really?” Ten tilted his head curiously. “I was seeing it more as a continuation of the cannibalism-sex-love metaphor, since they were eating figs, you know.”

You nodded knowingly. “That’s true. Everything’s about sex—”

“Except sex.” You two finished quoting your professor in unison.

“And then with figs, there’s the Bible interpretation, of course,” you continued.

“Always the Bible.”

“We can never escape what John Milton did for Christian fanfiction, truly.”

“But I do like the pie scene connection the more that I think about it, actually.” Ten knocked back the rest of his cocktail. “And, tying her mother into the cannibalism metaphor could be a fascinating angle, too.”

Your eyes widened as you were practically vibrating your seat with excitement now. “Yeah, her earliest memory being of food, parental love, and harm...”

“Anyway, I need a refill.” Your friend shook his glass of ice with a smile. “Be back. Good chat as always, Y/N.”

Chenle and Sicheng scooted out of the booth to let Ten out, the former heading off towards the restrooms while the co-captain followed his roommate to the bar, leaving just you and Sungchan. You continued musing over the new connections you’d just made in the text as you turned your gaze back over to Sungchan beside you. He was already looking at you, a fond half-smile on his face.

“Hi.” He said quietly.

“Hi,” you replied, just as quiet.

Sungchan took a swig of his drink, then eyed yours. “You haven’t drunk any water since we get here.”

He’d been sure to not only order your promised soda of choice, but also water, and as you now looked over at your two cups, you could tell that the water had not been touched at all while the soda was practically empty.

“Oh uh, I guess I haven’t.”

“Drink some.” He pushed it towards you insistently. “Can’t have you getting kidney stones on my watch.”

“Okay, okay.” You acquiesced easily, switching your straw over to that glass and chugging a quarter of it in one go. “Better?”

“Much.” He nodded in satisfaction. “So what were you and Ten saying about pies and sex or whatever? Sex isn’t about sex?”

“Oh, it’s just something one of our professors says a lot. ‘Everything is about sex except sex.’ For lit analysis. In literature, pretty much everything is about sex. Or can be. You can turn like, anything in a piece of text into an innuendo or euphemism if you wanted to. Except for sex. Like, if a sex scene is included in a piece of literature, it’s not actually about the sex that’s being depicted. The sex is meant to represent something else. Like politics, or social structures, or whatever other themes are present in the work. Unless you’re just reading porn. But even then, there’s artistic merit to erotica, and plenty to be learned about the social structures at the time it was written, too.”

Sungchan hadn’t blinked the entire time you’d been rambling on, and upon you finally stopping, blinked in rapid succession as he seemed to come to from a daze. “Wow. Uh, interesting. Filing that away with death of the author.”

“Sungchan...” You leaned in to whisper, placing a hand on the inside of his thigh, just above his knee. His leg jumped, knocking his knee into the tabletop. Your hand had narrowly avoided being smashed too, saved only by its position curled around his leg instead of directly on top. You didn’t move it up or down now though, simply tapping your index finger against the loose material of his sweatpants as you giggled. “What are you thinking about?”

He cleared his throat a couple of times. “How you still have three-quarters of that glass of water left to drink.”

You laughed, slumping to relax into his side and pulling your hand back up to a more casual position on top of his leg. With your other hand, you grabbed your water. “Alright, fine.”

Not too long after your water had been drained, Sungchan was driving you home. Some of your other friends had taken off as well, and you didn't put up too much of a protest when he offered. As your familiar building came into view, you suddenly remembered something.

“Oh, visitor’s parking is over there. Sorry, forgot to mention before.” You pointed to a few parking spots painted with yellow lines instead of white, further away from the apartment entrances than the resident parking. “They’re a bit picky. Chenle got towed after like, five minutes one time.”

“Got it. Thanks.” Sungchan smoothly turned the wheel to pull into one of the open visitor’s spots.

Your reason for showing it to him was two-fold. One, to let him know you hoped he’d be coming over more often, so he’d need that information for future reference. And two, for perhaps less innocent ulterior motives tonight. Truly, your apartment complex only towed people after dark. Overnight visitors. Chenle’s five-minute tow had been a fluke.

“I’ll walk you to your door,” he said with no prompting, and you had to hold in a sigh of relief.

Instead, you gave him a genuine smile. “Thanks, Sungchan.”

“I don’t think I thanked you for coming tonight. To the game.” He slowly meandered up the sidewalk with you, hand holding yours.

“Thanks for inviting me again. I had a lot of fun.” You squeezed his hand.

Your front door loomed in the not-so-distant distance.

“Uh, are you busy this weekend?” He rushed to ask. “I have Saturday morning practice, at 7:30, but it’s over at 9:00, and after that I’m free.”

So that’s why he had texted you at seven in the morning to congratulate you on winning Phantasmagorical Phriday.

“No, I’m not busy. I’d love to do something, just pick from the list I sent you. Surprise me, hm?”

“Will do.”

You were finally on your front welcome mat, and watched his face fall as he seemed to be drawing a blank about how else to prolong your night. But you had an idea.

You didn’t let an alarm or anything else possibly have the chance to interrupt you, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling his mouth down to yours. He stumbled forward at you suddenly yanking him off-balance, catching himself with one hand on your front door and the other on your doorframe. Then, he dropped a hand to the small of your back, drawing you in even closer as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

Disconnected just enough to murmur against his lips, you asked, “Do you want to come in?”

“Please?” He replied with a nearly sheepish chuckle.

“So polite,” you quipped.

You gave him one more peck before turning around to unlock your door and drag him in by the arm.

➠ sequel | series masterlist | blog masterlist

[kayesfanfics]

Before He Cheats (Striker x Fem! Reader)

Summary: You’re a farmhand on Rough n’ Tumbleweed Ranch. When your boyfriend cheats on you, Striker is there to pick you back up.

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, cursing, sexual content

A/N: This is inspired both by Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood, and cowboy Pedro Pascal but with Striker, my fav cowboy. Also I’m like super proud of this ngl. Enjoy~

“That’s it, Sallie May! I’m burning down his house! His car! That fucker thinks he can sleep with some bitch and come crawlin’ back ta me?! Imma kill him! I will!” You ranted to your best friend, pacing back and forth in the family houses kitchen.

“I told ya that guy was no good, Y/N.” Sallie May shrugged from her spot sitting on the counter, watching you kick around the legs of a chair you had smashed to bits when you had gotten the text. Your boyfriend had cheated, and he only just now got around to telling you…THREE WEEKS LATER. He didn’t even have the balls to tell you in person, he had to do it over text so he didn’t face your wrath head on…but to be honest, that was a smart move. If he were here, you probably would’ve actually killed him.

“He told me I was different! He said he loved me!” You shouted, enraged and heartbroken.

“They always say that, darlin’.” A voice from somewhere behind you purred. You turned around, seeing the other farmhand of Rough n’ Tumbleweed Ranch.

“Hello, Striker.” You muttered, before finally bending down to pick up the ruined chair you had broken and had been tossing around the room, setting the pieces on the table.

“What’s with the chair?” Striker asked, leaning against the doorway.

“Y/N lost her shit.” Sallie May grinned as she hopped off the counter to grab a broom and sweep up the splinters of wood littering the floor.

“Aw, now why’s that, doll?” Striker asked, chewing on a piece of wheat.

“My goddamn boy-EX boyfriend, cheated on me weeks ago, and just now told me over TEXT! Can you believe that?! What kinda coward-“

“Oh, I can believe it. The men ‘round these parts are…sleazy.” He said, tossing the wheat piece in the pile of wood chips.

“Oh, excluding you, I presume?” You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well now, I ain’t no saint, but I’m no cheater. No honor in that.” He grinned as he approached you. “How abouts we head down to the bar, huh? Get some drinks, forget about that loser?”

“That…could be nice.” You admitted, blushing a little at how close Striker had gotten to you.

“What, I don’ get no invitation?” Sallie May piped up, grinning at you.

“Tell your mama I’m real sorry about the chair and I’ll fix it later. Please, Sallie May?” You whispered the last part to her. Everyone who had eyes had the hots for Striker, and she knew this could be a good lay to get your mind off your ex and move on quicker. So she finally nodded, and you winked at her before telling Striker you were gonna quickly change out of your dirty work gear.

You put something a little more bar-friendly on, making sure to choose a shirt that showed some extra cleavage, and a pair of jeans that made your ass look even better. Striker smirked and held an arm out for you to hold as he walked you out to his horse, Sallie May waving to you with a teasing grin on her face. You smiled when you reached Bombproof, petting the hell beast while Striker got the saddle ready, before helping you up and getting on himself. You wrapped your arms around his waist as he rode into town, heading to one of the nicer saloons in the area. Since you were deep in the country of Wrath, there was a place to tie your horse where they had a trough of water for them, and Striker held out his hand to help you off and walk you into the bar. The place was rather lively with twangy country music playing, some people watching some sports game on the tv, and others at tables eating or playing pool. You went up to the bar with Striker, ordering your first round and chatting with him.

“So, what was so great bout that little boyfriend of yours anyways? From what I heard from Sallie May, he was a real piece of shit.” Striker asked you as you took a swig of your drink.

“She got to you while I was upstairs, huh?” You chuckled, setting your drink down and rolling your eyes at your best friend.

“Oh yeah. Talked my ears off about how he “kinda-sorta” cheated before, he yelled at you a lot, you’re too forgivin’ of him, loved his car more than he loved you, yadda yadda.”

“That loud mouth.” You muttered under your breath before turning back to him. “Yeah, well, I learned my lesson. He was my first long term boyfriend, of course I let too much shit slide. But I won’ make that mistake twice.”

“Really? First boyfriend, huh?”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Yer too pretty to just now have yer first boyfriend, sweet thing.” He winked at you before taking a sip of his drink, leaving you blushing up at him like some flustered schoolgirl.

“Quit that!” You smacked his arm playfully, knowing full well your face was red as a tomato. “I can’t imagine YOU’VE had many girlfriends yourself, tough guy.”

“And why’s that?”

“I don’ know, you don’ seem the type to like bein’ tied down is all.” You shrugged, tapping your nail on your glass.

“Yer right about that, I guess.” He sighed. “You got me, doll, I ain’t got much datin’ experience neither.”

“Oh? What about…experience with other relations?” You asked, a little more bold with some alcohol in your system.

“Whatcha mean by that, doll face?” Striker smiled back at you, both of you subconsciously leaning towards the other as you flirted.

You were about to answer, but man walked up to the both of you, knocking your drinks aside and the sticky liquid splashing all over you.

“Hey, watch it you-“ You were about to scold the person until you saw who it was. “You.”

“Yer gonna bitch at me bout cheatin while yer hangin off the arm of some random dick head?!” Your ex boyfriend yelled in your face drunkenly.

“Hey, back off her, dick head!” Striker shoved him off of you.

“Who the fuck are you anyways?” Your ex asked him, trying to puff out his chest and stand taller.

“Don’ matter, that ain’t how ya talk to her, sleaze bag.” Striker growled down at the man.

“Oh, so yer gonna hide behind this asshole, huh Y/N? I thought you were ‘sposed at be tough! You just gonna bend over fer him too?”

Your anger finally boiled over, and you pushed Striker aside to face your ex yourself. You decked him in the face so hard he fell backwards onto his ass, knocking over some other peoples table and getting food and drinks spilled all over himself. You glowered down at him, wanting to beat the shit out of him, but Striker snatched you up and dragged you out of the bar before you got into too much trouble. You yelled at Striker to let you go, squirming against his hold on you.

“Calm down, missy, before ya hurt yourself.” Striker said, only setting you down and letting go when you calmed down. You tried to rush past him back into the bar, but he was prepared and stopped you again.

“Let me kill him! Just a little!” You huffed as he drug you further away from the bar entrance.

“Not tonight, darlin’. Maybe another day, huh?” He suggested, letting you go again once you were drug out to the parking lot. You crossed your arms and pouted, needing to let your rage out somehow. Suddenly in your chaotic mind, a single thought stood out to you.

“His car.” You mumbled, looking around the parking lot.

“What’s goin on in that pretty lil head of yers?” Striker asked as he followed you, your eyes scanning the cars.

“His stupid fuckin’ car. He always loved that thing more than me.” You explained, smiling devilishly when you finally saw it. You went up to the souped-up sports car. “He spent more money on it than anything, its customized with some expensive ass shit.”

Striker grinned when he realized what you wanted to do. He even pulled a knife out of his belt and handed it to you, looking around for something else to use on the car. In a trash bin he saw a metal rod sticking put of it, so he grabbed it and watched you circle the nice car like a shark with its prey. The screech of metal on metal signaled you were digging the knife into he custom paint job, carving your name into it proudly. You got down and slashed his tires, stabbing them and watching them deflate before going to the other side of the car to give it the same treatment. Striker watched proudly as you destroyed this mans car, smirking and joining you not long after by smashing the windows in with the metal rod. You laughed when he joined in, stabbing the side of the car more and prying it open to give you access to the inside. You slashed his nice leather seats, tearing them to shreds and till the stuffing was falling out and flying in the air. You got out of the car and grabbed the metal rod from Striker, beginning to beat the shit out of this car, pretending it was your ex himself.

“Alright, alright, we gotta get outta here!” Striker said after letting you have your fun for awhile, but when some customers began to leave the bar, he knew it was time to go. You dropped the rod and took his hand, running off to the horses and getting on Bombproof while Striker untied him from the fence. You heard screaming in the distance, cackling when you realized it was your exes high pitched shrieks as he saw what had happened to his car.

“Come on, come on!” You laughed as Striker got on his horse, galloping away into the night. You listened to the screeches and screams of your ex with a smile on your face, reveling in the moment.

“He’s gon be so pissed when he sees your name on that thing!” Striker laughed loudly.

“So worth it!” You shouted back. “Thank you, Striker!”

“Not a problem, darlin’! You ready ta go home?” He asked as he slowed Bombproof down, far enough away from the bar you didn’t need to worry anymore.

“How abut we…” You smiled as your hands around his waist traveled further down his body. You felt hot and bothered after that adrenaline rush, and if you were being honest with yourself, you’ve been wanting to fuck this handsome cowboy for much longer than just tonight.

“One hotel room, comin’ up.” Striker smirked, before smacking his tail on Bombproof to make him run off. You held onto him as he raced the two of you to the nearest motel, tying Bombproof up at another fence before taking your hand and leading you to the front desk. Once the clerk handed him the room key, the two of you rushed up to the room together.

As soon as the door was opened, you turned Striker around to finally kiss him. He tasted of his drink and cigarettes, his lips rough but skilled as he kissed you back. He tapped on your thigh and you jumped up, wrapping your legs around him as he held you up, squeezing your ass through your jeans as he kicked the door shut behind him. He walked up to the bed, bending over to set you down as his lips never once left yours. You felt his bulge through his own jeans, his hips humping into your own, causing you to moan. He took the opportunity to stick his snake like tongue into your mouth, clawing at you as you pushed his jacket off his shoulders. He stood up to begin stripping, smiling as you watched himself shed his clothes intently.

“Been wantin’ to do this fer a long time, pretty girl.” He purred, now completely shirtless and his hat tossed across the room onto a lamp. He bent over you again, tugging at the hem of your shirt. You lifted your arms for him to take your shirt off and toss it over his shoulder, before his hands went under you to unclasp your bra. He lowly whistled when he saw your bare breasts, a hand squeezing one and playing with it while his mouth made its way to your neck, attaching to it with his teeth, leaving a bite mark before sucking a hickey into it. You moaned and arched your back, your chest pressing further into his hands as they both now groped your soft breasts, his breath heavy as he felt your body and marked you up with his mouth.

“Striker…” You moaned quietly, your own hands clawing at his back, leaving your own marks as well.

“We’re not at the farm, darlin’. We ain’t never gon see any of these people here, so you can scream my name as loud as you need to, sugar~” He groaned as your hips started to grind into his.

“Then hurry up and make me scream~” You moaned, biting your lip as he stood back up, kicking his boots off before taking yours off, tossing them near the door.

He pulled at your jeans, and you lifted your hips off the bed so he could take them off of you. He then took his own jeans off, his bulge much more prominent now through the thin fabric of his boxers. You sat up on the bed and nearly drooled as you stared at his crotch, imagining what he looked like underneath those boxers. You looked up at him with doe eyes as you slid off the bed onto your knees, two fingers hooking under the waistband, looking up for a nod of approval before you slipped his boxers off of him, his hard-on slapping against his abdomen once set free.

“Fuck, Striker…” You drooled over him, licking your lips before kissing the tip of his cock. He groaned at your action, a hand instinctively tangling into your hair, pushing you closer to him. You obediently opened your mouth, letting him shove his cock into your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. You gagged a bit at the contact, but slowly got used to it as your throat began to relax.

“Good girl…” Striker panted, his nails scraping your scalp, making you moan around his length. You slowly started to bob your head up and down his shaft, your tongue licking up and down the underside of his cock. Striker hissed as you sucked him off so good, hips bucking into your face as his grip on your hair tightened. “Fuck, Y/N! You must’ve never given that dipshit head, he never woulda cheated if you did!”

The reminder of your ex only made you more determined to make Striker cum down your throat. You wanted every thought of that loser to be replaced with Striker, every memory of sex to be with Striker instead of him. You began to bob your head faster and suck harder, Striker nearly stumbling over when you did that, holding onto the bed behind you for support as his eyes squeezed shut at your actions. He soon came down your throat, his hand holding you in place so that your nose was pressed up against his abs so not a drop spilled from your mouth. Once he came down from his high he let you go and backed up to give you room to stand, catching his breath as you sat back up on the bed in front of him.

“Shit, baby.” Was all he could say as he panted, more turned on now than ever as you batted your pretty eyes up at him. “Lay on back now, it’s time I returned the favor~”

You smiled sheepishly before lying back on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watched Striker kneel down in front of you, his own fingers slipping under the waistband of your panties. You lifted your hips for him once again to allow him to slip them off, a sexy grin adorning his face as he grabbed your thighs and propped them on either of his shoulders.

“Fuck me…” He muttered, kissing up your thighs and his eyes never leaving your glistening pussy. “Baby doll, you really are Satan’s favorite, huh?”

You didn’t have the chance to answer him, his tongue flicking over your clit stopping you. You whimpered at the feeling, it had been so long since you had received head from someone, and you knew his long tongue would hit the right spots. You moaned as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking softly but enough to have your head tossing back and our back arching off the bed. You whined out his name as you gripped at the sheets below you, his tongue flicking across your folds before delving into your hole. One of his hands let go of your thigh so his fingers could rub your clit in slow but firm circles, his tongue working inside of you. You squirmed on the bed but his other hand held you firmly, one of your own hands flying to grab one of his horns, pushing him further into your cunt. He let out a muffled moan of surprise, but didn’t argue as he continued to eat you out like a starved man, the hand on your thigh digging its claws into your soft flesh. You ground your hips into Strikers face, feeling yourself reaching the edge. You moaned out a warning to him, and he moaned into your cunt as his fingers rubbed your clit faster and his tongue went impossibly deeper inside of you. You let out a high pitched squeak at the feeling, loudly moaning out Strikers name as you quickly toppled over the edge, your hips and legs shaking and spasming from how intense your orgasm was. Once you settled down and Striker licked you clean, he finally stood back up and caged you between his arms, grinning down at you as you caught your breath.

“Fuck, cowboy…” You breathed out before leaning up to kiss him, moaning at the taste of yourself on his mouth.

“I got some more surprises fer ya, darlin’. You wanna do this ass up or not?” He asked. You answered him by crawling up further onto the bed, bending over for him. He grinned as he pumped his cock, crawling up to you and pressing his chest to your back, kissing the base of your neck to make you shiver as you hugged a pillow, preparing yourself for that addicting stretch you hadn’t felt in so long. “Ready?”

You nodded desperately, Strikers body pressing against yours left your skin burning for more of him. You moved a hand to reach for his, and he chuckled but intertwined his fingers with yours, before aligning himself and beginning to push into you. You squeezed his hand and moaned as his cock began to stretch you open, biting your lip and squeezing your eyes shut as you buried your face into the pillow below you. Striker kissed you on your bare shoulder as his thumb rubbed the back of your hand comfortingly, he own eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of your pussy fluttering around his cock. Once he was bottomed out, he awaited for you to tell him he could start moving. Your hips started to move against his, and he took it as a sign to keep going. He slowly pulled out halfway before snapping his hips back into you, smiling at the little squeak you let out at the action. He started moving his hips faster and faster, the hand holding yours being nearly crushed as you held onto it. You moaned lewdly as his cock hit that perfect spot inside of you, whining and beginning to shake as you felt yourself approaching an orgasm again already. Striker chuckled as he felt your cunt squeeze him and your breathing becoming erratic as you neared your high.

“Don’ be embarrassed, sweet thing, cum for me~” He whispered into your ear encouragingly, freeing his hand from your grip to pinch and rub at your clit, a choked moan escaping your lips as you immediately came around his cock, Striker groaning at how you squeezed around him so tightly.

“S-Striker!” You nearly screamed as your body shook violently beneath him.

“That’s right, Y/N, scream my name~” He panted as he felt himself nearing his second orgasm of the night. He continued to pound into you, screams escaping you as your sensitive pussy was being overstimulated. He pulled out briefly to flip you over onto your back, desperate to see your face. He shoved his cock back into you, your breasts bouncing at the force he used to fuck you into the mattress. You began to babble incoherently as your eyes crossed and rolled back, Striker smiling smugly at how you unraveled around him.

“I-I’m almost there, Y/N.” He warned you, your legs clamping around him now allowing him to pull out.

“C-Cum in me!” You whimpered, feeling yet another orgasm coming on.

“You sure?”

“Just do it!” You screamed, your claws digging into his back to keep him in place.

His hips shot into yours as he came, groaning and panting as you also came with him, your juices squirting all over his dick as you both clutched onto the other desperately. Once you both came down from your highs, Striker collapsed on top of you, both of you trying to catch your breaths as your grips loosened on the other. After a few minutes, Striker stumbled out of bed and grabbed a towel from the bathroom, wiping both of you down and tossing it onto the floor before getting back into the bed with you. He pulled you close, noticing your thighs still twitching from the intense squirting orgasm you had.

“Nobody’s…ever made me…d-do that…” You panted, tilting your head to face him, but not having the strength to move your body yet.

“Well…glad to be a stand out.” He chuckled as he looked at you with half lidded eyes.

“Striker…” You swallowed harshly. “I…”

“Save it for the mornin, doll.” He interrupted you, pulling you close to him and shutting his eyes. You nodded dumbly, not having the thoughts or energy to argue with him. Plus, this was nice, just being held by him so intimately, singing and letting morning you figure out your relationship with the man. For now, you just curled into his touch and buried your face into his chest.

[muuurder]

I’m coming here after your gf’s propaganda, hi >:D

Could I ask about Modern AU (Gaalee)? *O*

(also while looking for your AO3 account in your carrd, I found out that the link is not working!! Just so you know è_é (there is just the “s” missing gbizeubguebgz))

Hehehehe You mayyy. Also thank you!! I'll be real honest I am pretty sure I have one fic on my AO3 Account.

Okay so this specific Au I have plans on writing a fic about but I do not have it written out just a loose plot with elements in my noggin.

But essentially it focuses on trans! Gaara raised in modern day with a conservative cop father.

After the death of his mother, things proved to get harder and his father began to dive deep into his work. Only time he's present is when he's home usually drinking. He's not exactly a good cop by any means. He has a temper and he has his stern beliefs and he quite literally hates his fucking kids, but he especially hates gaara who has always been tomboyish, always the reminder of his failures, and ever the stubborn mule even when he is trying to stay out of Rasa's way. Gaara was never one to listen, he always marched to the beat of his own drum anyways.

After a particularly nasty incident where Rasa went a little too far on the job, Rasa picked up the three kids moved them closer to the city (coughcough Konoha.) Gaara ended up getting involved with drugs, and between the dangerous mix of everything he becomes a spiralling mess as per usual, targeting anyone who breathes at him wrong or he percieves as a threat of sorts. On one ocassion, Our beloved Rock Lee (star track runner, i'm debating on making i'm former head of boy scouts or just a kid who goes to a dojo that Gai totally owns.) ends up getting involved for justice reasons (He's autistic your honor.) and it ends with Gaara beating him with a lead pipe. Obviously charges are pressed and Gaara is sent to a psychward and given community service instead of going to juvie (I do not know if this is even fucking possible tbh but I like it.) While Gaara is in the psychward ( I am so sure there is another reason why he got sent there but w/e I can't remember rn), His father dies in a shoot out with a notorious criminal in the area (wonder who that could be.) Leaving these kids slapped into foster care while things are figured out as Temari isn't old enough to care for her three brothers. Yashamaru works to get custody of these kids in time but in the meantime, it's rough and Gaara is picked up from the psychward not by family. He is picked up by a foster care agent (social worker???) and he is made to serve out his community service. There he meets Naruto, who is also doing customer service for vandalism and they do fight and Gaara forms a baby crush. There is alot that happens around here and then there is a time skip essentially where things change once Yashamaru gets custody of these kids and they find a new normal with a crusty white dog. Gaara gets a safe space to heal and explore who he is.

The plot really begins picking up down the line where essentially gaara post moving away from the city with yashamaru back in their home town, He decides to move back to pursue college. he wants to get into therapy to try to reach others like him and Naruto integrates him into his friend group (or tries rather Gaara is pretty stand offish even if kankuro and temari have done so easily) and Gaara keeps fucking running into Rock lee against his will. Lots of healing, lots of forced proximity for healing reasons. Slow burn. It's a very loose plot I'm still fleshing out. We may see nods to the Moss because I wish I was joking here, That fic altered my fucking brain chemistry. I am still figuring it out. I do know that the main relationships i plan on showing/mentioning are: Gaalee, kakagai ofc, shikatem, kankiba, the polycule themselves narusakusasu, nejiten, hinata is a lesbian idc, and so is ino also perhaps past sakuino I am really excited for this fic ngl but I want to like do everything justice so I don't want to publish till i finish rewatching naruto and refreshing everything so I can figure out what elements I want to bring in and the like. Ngl y'all can ask more about this fic I have thoughts of scenes that would be so cute. HEHEHEHEH THANK YOU FOR ASKING!!!

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tag @mysticstarlightduck!

OC Aesthetic Deep Dive Tag: Captain Faalgun Falani

Rules: Make a moodboard with your character's aesthetic, a playlist that fits their vibe, "badly summarize them" (like, talk about their personality, but funnily), etc. It absolutely does not need to be super detailed!!!!!

I figured it'd be fun to do a character I haven't talked about much yet, so here's my little dragon man :)

Moodboard:

Music:

Dead Man Walking by Brent Faiyaz

Casual Fatality by Night Hawk

Elstree by The Buggles

Drink by Destroy Boys

Heaven by I Monster

(I think the common theme between all these is a deep, underlying sadness, but they still manage to be comically different lol)

Basic Summary:

Faalgun was born on the Flying City and given up to an orphanage at a young age. It was a nice space, and though he was always a little distant from the other kids due to his runty size and serious demeanor, he had a happy childhood for the most part. He joined the Flying City Ten'ka (merchant guards) right out of school, and had the makings of a fine career as a pilot, except for one thing.

Faalgun has a bit of an addictive personality. He might be uptight, but all sense of caution goes out the window when he gets an adrenaline rush. He flies crazier, takes risks, and makes rash decisions to keep that rush going. I'm sure you can guess that when he was introduced to gambling, it didn't go well.

He racked up debt quickly. He hated himself for it, but he couldn't put down the cards - the rush of adrenaline was just too powerful. In time, the debts got so bad that he lost his career, then his life when he was beaten in an alleyway. Now, as a ghost, he's been summoned back to pilot a ship past the edge of the sun's light. He hopes to succeed in death where he failed in life.

As for appearances, he's a little dragon guy! He stands at about three and a half feet tall, has blue scales, crystalline horns, and scaly whiskers. He wears the stained uniform he died in and his neck can swivel further than it should since he died when it was broken.

He's an honorable sort who runs a tight ship, despite his craving for adrenaline. He often accounts for his own weaknesses when he makes plans, in order to minimize the harm he might cause to his allies. Care for his crew also extends to their emotional states - Faalgun is attentive and eager to lend a listening ear, though he fervently avoids letting any of his crew know about his past life. There's a deep sense of shame at his core, no matter how good of a captain he is.

I'll tag @thecomfywriter @tragedycoded @greenfinchwriter @somethingclevermahogony and anyone else who wants to play :)

[verdemoun]

In honor of our recent conversations

How's the gang with modern drugs and such? I'll count alcohol into that category. Now that it doesn't Have to be a part of life, it can just be a fun little addition. Who's the first to discover the new options? Fruity drinks and clubs that sell overpriced but spectacular drinks they've never thought possible?

(whos the first to make pot brownies /j)

Does anyone ban alcohol from their household, haunted by memories? Does anyone fall into addiction and is saved by the gang?

tw recreational drug use

Arthur walked into a bar, asked for whatever, and then chuckled with glee upon being served a fruity-ass cocktail he proceeded to scull before realizing it was 2.5 standard drinks. Feeling the immediate sensation of 'I drank that way too fast and am feeling it', he ordered another and marvelled how dangerous it was they could make alcohol taste not only good but delicious. He remembers little else of the night beyond that point, but was assured he ordered three more and then made an ass of himself as usual.

Bill Williamson is the one who actually is a bit of a beer connoisseur. Learning to appreciate and savour different types of beer is, in his opinion, what stopped him from spiraling further into alcoholism. Craft and local beer enthusiast who will actually know about hops and the harvesting of hops. He is very partial to a fruit-infused sour beer. (mango sour my beloved)

Arthur and Charles ban alcohol from the house. Not officially but they try not keep whiskey/spirits in the house because the two of them will finish a bottle in a night and not remember a thing in the morning. They are binge drinkers and they are aware of it.

Karen has a long unending love affair with SSRIs. She needs them to function. She cannot handle life without a drug reminding her brain everything will be okay. On the bright side it reduces her drinking.

Strauss deserves some love he's actually very passionate about spirits, syrups and liqueurs and can recreate virtually any cocktail in his house. Sometimes a man gets home from work and needs to recreate a drink he paid way too much for at a kitschy little bar but make it a triple.

Kieran and Javier attempted to make pot brownies and accidentally hotboxed the house. Bessie got home to the unmistakable smell of weed, Hosea snoring his guts out after being practically glued to the couch, and Javier and Kieran still in the kitchen just eating the brownie mix they didn't bother cooking. They also failed to open the windows so within 10 minutes of trying to help her poor boys + husband she was also very high and ordered pizza. Annabelle had to come babysit them all.

Davey convinced Mac to do poppers one night when they were out at a bar. Mac proceeded to have a panic attack while coming down and sent a frantic 'in case i die i think i love you' to Bill. Bill, who was several hours away, also panicked and asked Hosea to go find them. Mac got kicked out of the bar and was so emotional he actually hugged Hosea meanwhile Davey was calling him a pansy.

While not a timewarper Mary-Beth ended up having a bit of a laudanum habit after being prescribed it to help her sleep. In 1911 after hearing what happened to Bill, Javier, Dutch and then John, she found herself both heartbroken for the gang but also suffering with anxiety and paranoia that she would be outed as a former VDL and hunted down the same. She ended up very much addicted and reuniting with Reverend, both as an old friend who was also very saddened by the end of the gang but also helped her sort her shit out. Some say you can still find laudanum bottles hidden around Shady Belle.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Five Stages of Mamma Mia

Fandom: Batfam, DC Comics

Summary: AU where Catherine Johnson is Jason's bio mom and Jason doesn't know who his father is. (Jason Todd is Jason Johnson for fic reasons).

Chapters: 19/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Jason Blood, Catherine Todd Mention, Bruce Wayne, Willis Todd Mention

Relationship(s): Past Catherine Todd/Jason Blood, Past Catherine Todd/Bruce Wayne, Past Catherine Todd/Willis Todd

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Mamma Mia-inspired AU, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Father-Son Relationship(s), Jason Todd Experiences the Five Stages of Grief

Chapter Nineteen: Chiquitita (Bargaining)

As summer concluded, Mr. Blood helped Jason get dressed for Bruce's benefit dinner. "I hate bowties too, but I can't say you don't look dapper," Mr. Blood complimented as he fitted Jason's cumberbund over his suspenders. Jason hadn't smiled the entire day and spent most of that time hidden away in his room. After Mr. Blood fitted the cumberbund, he tied Jason's tie. Forest green velvet with gold trim. He wanted Jason to look his best. "What's wrong?"

"I'm scared," Jason mumbled. Mr. Blood picked Jason up as if he were a small child. He thought it'd make Jason laugh. Mr. Blood's heart sank when Jason threw his arms around his neck.

"You should be worried about out-dressing him," Mr. Blood casually whispered as he set Jason down. He gave Mr. Blood a puzzled look. "You heard me. Think of all those silly-looking adults drinking wine and making fools of themselves... And then there's you... All dressed up, sober, and absolutely charming. He'll be proud."

Jason let out a relieved laugh. "Yeah?" Jason asked.

"Yeah!" Mr. Blood nodded. He playfully shook Jason.

"Yeah!" Jason shouted excitedly. Mr. Blood laughed and helped Jason into his jacket. Jason held Mr. Blood's hand as they left the room and headed downstairs. "Do you think Bruce missed me this week?"

"Are you joking? Time away from the best boy in the world? It's dreadful!" Mr. Blood exclaimed. Jason giggled as they got in the car. "Before we get there, I want to go over the plan. Before dinner is the silent auction, and since I still owe you a gift for making the honor roll, you can have me bid on three items of your choice. Then, there's the song and dance of mingling before dinner. After dinner, there's dessert and a little touch of dancing." Jason nodded.

"Will I have to dance?" Jason questioned. Mr. Blood shook his head.

"And I think your brother might be there," Mr. Blood added. Jason grinned and swung his feet.

When they arrived at the manor, Mr. Blood grabbed his bidding paddle, and Jason clung to him. "Where's B?" Jason whispered.

"He has to greet some of his guests. It's customary—."

Jason jumped as he felt a pair of hands cover his eyes. "Dick?" Jason asked.

"Hey, Kid. You look snazzy," Dick smiled as Jason jumped into his arms. Dick embraced him and straightened Jason's jacket. "Bruce is gonna be thrilled. Mind if I drop in next to you for the auction? I love watching rich people fight," Dick smiled. Jason nodded, and Bruce entered the room to announce the start of the auction. He stopped mid-sentence to wave at Jason. Jason waved back with a sheepish grin. The auction was two hours long, and Mr. Blood bid on a private museum tour, a family camping trip, and dance lessons. Jason was overjoyed.

After the auction, the real fun began. Mr. Blood and Dick took turns with Jason, mingling among the crowd. "How old are you?" one of the women asked.

"Twelve, but I'll be thirteen next month," Jason replied innocently.

"And where's your mother and father tonight? I have to commend them for having such a smartly-dressed son," she whispered as she pinched his cheek. He frowned.

"Well, uh... My mom's not—. I'm—."

"Unconventional family situation. He's my little brother, but a friend of Bruce's also has custody from time to time," Dick answered. Jason nodded. Bruce wandered over and stepped back to take Jason in.

"We have got to take a picture. Where's Jay—? Mr. Blood?" Bruce asked. Jason grabbed Bruce's hand and stood on his tiptoes. Bruce crouched down to hear him.

"Dad's talking to an old student," Jason whispered. Bruce nodded and squeezed Jason's hand. "Do you want me to go and get him?"

Bruce looked at Mr. Blood from a distance and chewed his lip. "Um, I think Dick will go get him... Won't you?" Bruce asked. Dick nodded and walked off. "I'm so glad you came."

"I missed you," Jason declared. Bruce lit up, smiling from ear to ear as he hugged Jason.

"I missed you too," Bruce replied, "How've you been?"

"Good, I got enrolled in a middle school... A public one," Jason replied, "I start in two weeks."

"I know. Mr. Blood told me all about it. Are you excited?" Bruce questioned as a photographer approached. "Say cheese."

"Cheese!" Jason smiled while he held onto Bruce's hand. Bruce let go after the picture and whispered something to the photographer. She nodded. Bruce waved Dick and Mr. Blood over. They took a family picture, and Jason held his fathers' hands before they all returned to mingling.

Finally, dinnertime came, and they served Jason a large bowl of red soup. "Bruce, what's this?" Jason asked. Bruce shrugged.

"Try it, and I'll tell you," Mr. Blood replied. Jason obeyed and took a deep breath after his first spoonful. "Do you want something else—."

"Nuh-uh. It's spicy," Jason replied. Bruce grinned.

Dick picked over his chicken and ate his potatoes while Jason practically drank his soup. "Boiled fish soup," Mr. Blood whispered.

When the dancefloor opened up, Jason was slumped forward on the table in a deep sleep. A photographer snapped pictures of Bruce and Mr. Blood doting on him before getting a photograph of Bruce carrying Jason to his room. Jason stirred and smacked his lips. "Did you ever find out?" Jason mumbled. Bruce tried to pretend he couldn't hear him. "Am I yours? You had my blood... I know you had to check. I won't be mad." He set Jason down on the steps, and Jason laid his head on Bruce's shoulder.

"I did check... But I didn't want to know. I threw out the results before they were processed. Jason, I love you. Isn't that—?"

"If I'm not yours, would you stop loving me?" Jason questioned.

"Of course not. Jason, no matter what, Mr. Blood and I will always be your fathers," Bruce reassured him.

"Then I want to know. Please, Bruce?" Jason begged. Mr. Blood met them in the hall, and Bruce beckoned him. "Can we please find out now?"

Bruce nodded, and the three of them went to the cave. Jason sat at the foot of the infirmary bed, swinging his feet as Bruce took a cheek swab. Mr. Blood stood with his back turned. He was so nervous he couldn't bear to look. "Dad?" Jason whispered.

"Yes, Lamb?" Mr. Blood replied.

"I'm not gonna cry no matter what," Jason reassured him. Mr. Blood nodded as tears fell from his eyes. He didn't want Jason to see him crying. Bruce did his own cheek swab and processed the samples. Bruce couldn't look as the computer printed the results several minutes later.

"Jason, I'm sorry," Bruce whispered as he walked away from the computer. "I can't look." Jason nodded and took the results, reading them for himself.

Jason sat quietly for a while with the results in his hands, and he choked back tears. After several minutes of silence, he typed something in on the computer. "Jason?" Bruce asked.

Jason pushed past Bruce and Mr. Blood. Once he reached his room, he collapsed. Dick was the first to find him.

[twoidiotwriters1]

The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: The House of Hades chapters were massively fun to write, I hope you love them -Danny Words: 2,237 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

XXVII: I'm in My Critical-Thinking Era

Today is Ara's 15th birthday, according to the magical screens surrounding the room: The beach has remains of a party. The fireworks show must've happened while they were fighting the rock giants or while she was sleeping.

Leo glances at the screen, then freezes and takes a second look. "Hey—!"

She drags him out of the room. "Don't say anything to them!"

The boy scowls. "What? Why not?"

"This is the worst timing possible," Ara's expression is horror-struck and pale. "Do you think I'm in the mood to celebrate?"

The boy blushes. "But pretending it's not an important date..."

"In the future..." Ara trails off. There is no future. If they're lucky they have a few weeks at most. "Listen, just forget it."

Leo glances at the screens and makes a face. "You shouldn't be spending it like this."

"Don't start," she groans, turning away to enter the mess hall, but Leo stops her.

"You should be in camp with Lily. Or with your parents—"

"And what difference does it make if I'm here or there? My family would be incomplete, the Romans would be all around camp..." she huffs, pushing his hand away. "There's no way I would've enjoyed my birthday this year. Let it go."

Leo stares at her, struggling to find the words. "If... If we'd met sooner, I would've thrown huge parties for you. A whole week of 'em."

Ara wants to cry at his words, but she thinks this is a worthy trade at the very least. She saves the world, therefore she only gets shitty birthdays. Whatever. She got to have three birthday parties throughout her entire life, it's not like she's suffering a major loss.

Leo was supposed to find her last December, it had to happen that way, otherwise, she wouldn't've taken the role of daughter of Olympus, and her prophecy is their only hope to break the curse...

Mike wouldn't've died. Janus whispers mockingly. Is one life worthier than the other?

She cups his face. "Having you around is enough. Besides, your birthday is also in two days, we can celebrate then if you want."

"I communed with the dead last night. I was able to learn more about what we'll face," Nico says as they eat breakfast. "In ancient times, the House of Hades was a major site for Greek pilgrims. They would come to speak with the dead and honor their ancestors."

"Sounds like Día de los Muertos," Leo mentions. "My Aunt Rosa took that stuff seriously."

"Chinese have that, too," Frank adds. "Ancestor worship, sweeping the graves in the springtime. Your Aunt Rosa would've gotten along with my grandmother."

"Yeah," Leo mutters. "I'm sure they would've been best buds."

"A lot of cultures have seasonal traditions to honor the dead," Nico agrees. "But the House of Hades was open year-round. Pilgrims could actually speak to the ghosts. In Greek, the place was called the Necromanteion, the Oracle of Death. You'd work your way through different levels of tunnels, leaving offerings and drinking special potions—"

"Special potions," Leo mumbles. "Yum."

Jason flashes a warning look at him, he doesn't want him to upset Nico because then he will tease Ara in turn. "Nico, go on," the boy says politely.

"The pilgrims believed that each level of the temple brought you closer to the Underworld, until the dead would appear before you. If they were pleased with your offerings, they would answer your questions, maybe even tell you the future."

"And if the spirits weren't pleased?" Frank asks.

"Some pilgrims found nothing," Nico shrugs. "Some went insane, or died after leaving the temple. Others lost their way in the tunnels and were never seen again."

"You always know the hottest spots to visit," Ara jokes.

"Right up your alley, desperate sacrifices just to get crumbs. Anyway, the ghost I spoke to last night, he was a former priest of Hecate. He confirmed what the goddess told Hazel yesterday at the crossroads. In the first war with the giants, Hecate fought for the gods. She slew one of the giants—one who'd been designed as the anti-Hecate. A guy named Clytius."

"Dark dude," Leo says. "Wrapped in shadows." 

"Leo, how did you know that?" Hazel questions.

"Kind of had a dream," Leo explains his nightmares to the group and Ara leans forward on the table rubbing her forehead.

"So the giant is Clytius," Jason concludes. "I suppose he'll be waiting for us, guarding the Doors of Death."

"And the woman in Leo's dream?" Frank inquires.

"She's my problem." Hazel says. "Hecate mentioned a formidable enemy in the House of Hades —a witch who couldn't be defeated except by me, using magic."

"Do you know magic?" Leo asks

"Not yet."

"Ah. Any idea who she is?"

"Only that..." There is a brief pause and Ara looks up to see Nico and Hazel sharing a look, then the girl speaks. "Only that she won't be easy to defeat."

Ara remembers what Leo told her: Maze. Magic. A woman. It's not that hard to connect the dots, and she hates how quickly she understands what they'll be facing, part of her hopes to be dead wrong, but it's unlikely.

"But there is some good news," Nico says. "The ghost I talked to explained how Hecate defeated Clytius in the first war. She used her torches to set his hair on fire. He burned to death. In other words, fire is his weakness."

"Oh," Leo sits up. "Okay."

Ara shifts uncomfortably in her seat, nothing is as easy as it sounds, but she doesn't want to say it. Athena's blessing is working within her, she knows at last how it feels to be Annabeth and Lily, her brain constantly seeking info to make plans.

"Leo's fire isn't the same kind of magical as Hecate's. But I could try and teach you to control the mist," she offers to Hazel, and the girl blushes at Ara's offer. They haven't interacted a lot, so it's still a bit awkward between them. "I'm not a sorceress, but it's got to be worth something, right?"

"It's worth a try," Jason agrees. "At least we know how to kill the giant. And this sorceress... well, if Hecate believes Hazel can defeat her, then so do I."

Hazel sighs. "Now we just have to reach the House of Hades, battle our way through Gaea's forces—"

"Plus a bunch of ghosts," Nico adds. "The spirits in that temple may not be friendly."

"—and find the Doors of Death. Assuming we can somehow arrive at the same time as Percy and Annabeth and rescue them."

"We can do it," Frank tries to encourage them. "We have to."

"Well, that depends on how long it'll take us to get there," Ara turns to Leo.

"So, with this detour," he voices, "I'm estimating four or five days to arrive at Epirus, assuming no delays for, you know, monster attacks and stuff."

"Yeah. Those never happen." Jason says sarcastically.

"Hecate told you that Gaea was planning her big Wake Up party on August first, right?" Leo turns to Hazel. "The Feast of Whatever?"

"Spes. The goddess of hope."

"Theoretically, this leaves us enough time," Jason interjects. "It's only July fifth."

As expected, Nico's gaze locks with hers and he opens his mouth slightly, tilting his head as if about to ask something. Ara's eyes widen and she shakes her head discretely but making it clear that he has to stay quiet.

"...We should be able to close the Doors of Death, then find the giants' HQ and stop them from waking Gaea before August first," Jason finishes.

"Theoretically," Hazel nods. "But I'd still like to know how we make our way through the House of Hades without going insane or dying."

"Well, that's Nico's job," Ara points out. "You're the Ghost King, right?"

Nico scowls, but Frank pushes his plate away with a look of discomfort and speaks before the younger boy can. "It's July fifth. Oh, jeez, I hadn't even thought of that...."

"Hey, man, it's cool," Leo replies. "You're Canadian, right? I didn't expect you to get me an Independence Day present or anything... unless you wanted to."

"It's not that. My grandmother... she always told me that seven was an unlucky number. It was a ghost number. She didn't like it when I told her there would be seven demigods on our quest. And July is the seventh month."

"Yeah, but..." Leo taps his fingers on the table anxiously, the morse code for I love you on repeat. He doesn't seem to notice. "But that's just coincidence, right?"

"Back in China," Frank continues, "in the old days, people called the seventh month the ghost month. That's when the spirit world and the human world were closest. The living and the dead could go back and forth. Tell me it's a coincidence we're searching for the Doors of Death during the ghost month."

"Man, shut up," Ara doesn't like the idea of her birth month being an unlucky one, especially because Leo's birthday is on the seventh day, and Jason's...

Ara looks at him. Jason's birthday! It was the same day they lost Percy and Annabeth... Jason doesn't even flinch at Frank's speech, he keeps it together like a true Roman, but still, Ara feels guilty. 

"Let's focus on the things we can deal with. We're getting close to Bologna. Maybe we'll get more answers once we find these dwarfs that Hecate—"

The Argo II stops violently and they get tossed in different directions. Ara hits her ribs on the edge of the table and looks around not understanding what's happening.

"Nico!" Hazel gasps when he collapses against a wall.

"Look!" Jason pointed at the images of Camp Half-Blood.

Except it is no longer Camp Half-Blood. In its place, all she sees is chubby messed-up faces standing too close to the cameras. They flicker again and show the deck, where Piper and Hedge are gagged and unable to move.

Ara holds onto the wall and seizes Almighty. "What are those?"

As they watch the two little creatures bounce around stealing stuff, one of them snatches the Archimedes sphere out of its place, which sets Leo off. "No!"

"Piper!" Jason exclaims as he gets out from under the table.

"Monkey!" Frank shouts in alarm.

"Not monkeys," Hazel helps Nico up. "I think those are dwarfs—" 

"Stealing my stuff!" Leo rushes out of the room.

Ara Jackson is a girl with a short fuse.

It's carefully hidden, though, which means not many things can trigger it. But Dwarfs breaking the things she's been looking after since they left home? That's definitely a way to get her murderous mode on.

She watches them jump from one place to another and realizes she can't beat them with brute force. These beings are faster than she ever was, and by the looks of it, are professional bandits. Even Connor and Travis wouldn't stand a chance.

"Duck!" Leo tackles her by the waist before a grenade hits her.

Ara groans and tries to push Leo off, but she can't. "You left those on deck?!"

"Sorry I didn't think of the possibility of dwarfs setting them off!" Leo complains, unable to move.

Ara can't function properly, the dwarfs used the grenades Leo made for her (he was trying to cheer her up after what had happened at the Fort). They were filled with Apollo's magic, some liquid booming melodies that were meant to disorient and stun.

Ara crawls to a sitting position just in time to see a dwarf run away with Leo's belt... and Almighty. They reach a ballista and one of the dwarves shoots the other out of the ship, then the one left walks towards the rail, hits Coach Hedge, and jumps out of sight mockingly waving goodbye to Ara and Leo.

"Those horrid sons of—"

"Come on," Leo stumbles to his feet, his eyes red and glossy.

Leo and Jason pick her off the ground and Ara stays still trying to get rid of the dizziness. Gorilla!Frank is out-cold, tongue out.

"Piper!" Jason stumbles over to his girlfriend.

"Don't waste your time on me!" The girl complains when he pulls out the gag from her mouth. "Go after them!"

Ara makes her way to the control board and discovers with horror that the dwarves also took her Octopi. She turns to Leo, understanding in their gazes as they fall to the same conclusion: Those dipshits have to pay.

Leo turns to Jason. "You feeling good enough to control the winds? Ara and I need a lift."

"Sure, but—"

"Good," Leo interrupts him. "We've got some monkey dudes to catch." 

Ara's fingertips are burning with the need to strangle the living garden gnomes. "My plushie bags are off-limits," she says gravely. "They're going down."

"Where to?" Jason asks once they are in the middle of the small town.

Leo frowns. "Well, I dunno. Let me pull my dwarf-tracking GPS out of my tool belt... Oh, wait! I don't have a dwarf-tracking GPS—or my tool belt!"

"Be nice," Ara palms her pocket and with relief finds Almighty has come back to her. "Jason's trying to help."

"Thank you," says the boy, though also looking angry. Piper being mistreated isn't something that he lets slide. "The ballista fired the first dwarf in that direction, I think. Come on."

Ara thinks about Lily again. Her family was from Italy, and she'd always dreamed about coming here, to get acquainted with her roots, demigod and mortal. But Lily is stuck at camp fighting a war she didn't start and Ara's here, and if she fails, there might not be an Italy to visit in the future. 

Now that she's as old as Mike was when he died, Ara wonders which friend is going to die this time, the one who's been forced to stay behind and grow older, or the one that's running forward and still playing pretend.

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @asnyox-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh

[respectthepetty]

Since I decided the best way to make it through Our Skyy 2 with minimal damage is to drink my way through it, welcome to the third round of

CockTails in the Skyy!

This week's drink is Jack Nasty to honor one of the iconic lines from Brokeback Mountain since the boys were serving us cinematic odes in the trailer:

Jack Daniel's Honey Whiskey for the pair's sweet yet intense dynamic

unfiltered apple cider for the A+ prefect jerk, Akk

lemon juice for the wrench in the system and Sour Patch kid, Ayan

honey and cinnamon on the rim for Kan and Thua

This drink is mostly whiskey because I know there is singing in BOTH episodes. I love spoilers, so I already know the BBM scenes are a dream, but it's too late to turn back now! I've committed to this drink (whiskey) and this journey!

Bottoms up!

I don’t remember anything that is happening. THEY WE'RE EXPELLED FOR A SEMESTER?! (and still graduated on time . . . I smell a coverup!)

We got shots of the eclipse during the show, and now we'll get plenty of scenes with the sun because they are living in the light!

If only this could've been how Brokeback really went.

The way First, I mean Akk, just looked . . . ahhhhh

How long have they been there that there are multiple days of chores? I like camping but three days max!

A voice-over to make me feel worse that Aye is going to ignore Akk. cool cool cool

I don’t understand this space vs. place conversation, so the whiskey is working.

Aye throwing out a full moon and a holiday instead of Akk's birthday hurts me. As a Leo, this behavior is unacceptable.

Akk constantly saying "Aye" instead of Ayan, when we worked HARD for that during the series is feeding my soul.

Product placement! So glad we got someone to pay for our fanfiction this time around.

I do not like to frolic. I do not like to witness others frolicking. Too much energy when we should be laying down.

What is this conversation about the motorbike about?

Oh! It’s about vers.

Thua's filtering Kan's bad personality? If we had to make a comparison of who is feistier, it'd be Thua! Wat is putting the blame on the wrong kid. Thua would be the bad influence!

Who’s Mork?! Now is not the time for MORE characters.

PAWIN!

As a college professor, this Wat x Sani agenda is a HARD NO! No further comments. No additional notes. Just no. NO!

I should've done a shot instead each time a film scene pops up. I'd be four deep right now and a lot less sober.

MORK IS KENJI! Twice in one week, sir! First in Step by Step and now this! Give my man the love plot I was robbed of in 609 Bedtime Story!

Good friends for helping Wat who was the BEST BOY during the show always helping them. Also, AJ looks like he could cry on command, so I need this to be utilized more.

I can't invest in this fight when they are wearing shades of each other's color. The love is there. It's written all over them.

Kan threatening Aye about touching Thua because he still isn't over the car moment. Stay petty, babes!

Aye could hear the phone over this loud ass water?!

More product placement! We got McDonald's money, y'all!

Oh, shit! It's the guitar! MUTE

Kan being the lovey dovey type feels so good because he was so afraid to touch Thua before and was very aggressive. Now, it's all soft touches with Thua. Love that for them both.

Call me Sebastian because I'm not even hearing this fight since all I want Aye to do is "sha-la-la-la-la-la KISS THE BOY"

Another Jack Nasty for episode 2! I need to STFU this round, but I'll blame my many thoughts on the whiskey.

"As a friend." AS A FRIEND?! See, Akk stays asking for it. These two like pushing each other's buttons.

I am Namo. Inviting myself places. Watching my friend's deal with relationship bs. Smiling when they get caught sneaking around.

Wat making them hug is the friend version of making siblings put on the same shirt.

Stupid Dream Productions <- That's quality

Popsicles. Bike rides. Color exchanges. A bridge! Stupid Dream Productions made this possible.

Kan and Thua sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. (I see that neck grab, sir)

Thua is SERVING in this outfit! With the smiley face and dice necklace too. No wonder why Kan is so protective. Thua's got looks while Kan gives hardware hubby vibes. I love it!

Akk and Aye wearing white is a callback to the OST, no?

I will never be over the fact that all of these boys bullied Nan, Nong, and Nian, and every time "the bad stuff" from the past is mentioned, I get in my feels.

Oh, no! This short film is taking me back! Deep in my feels with that burning dummy.

Golf! Hey, homie!

"they secretly transferred me money in the end." Why did this not land for me? I should be happy his family is supporting him, but . . . *gonna moonwalk away from this*

This guy talking to Wat is the assistant director of The Eclipse, Pro Siwasit, but Wat said Nut. I feel confident even in my whiskey haze.

I am Namo. Putting my foot in my mouth when my friends are in distress. So glad he is less sus this time around.

SINGING!!!!! NO!!!! Why is this necessary?! Sweet baby Jesus with the historical accurate skin tone. I CANNOT!

I can't even enjoy what I like to call the sign-of-the-cross kiss because I'm still upset about the singing.

Another cake for the collection. Missed opportunity for a moon and sun themed cake, but at least there are stars and red, blue, and yellow candles.

Dacryphilia - getting pleasure or aroused by others' troubles or tears -> Aye, we need to discuss this kink.

Akk: I love hugging you; Aye: I love pissing you off.

A shower scene! Drying each other's hair! Saying they love each other!!!!

Only Friends when?

I'm somehow parched after that final scene even though I drank the entire time, so it's time for the rating. I won't deduct points for Akk and Aye's clear relationship dynamic (and kink), but I will deduct half a point for singing and a full point for that teacher/student plot this show is still pushing. Actually, that gets a point and A HALF deduction!

8/10 CockTails for making me, a person who believes in pushing boundaries, realize I have clear boundaries that cannot be crossed.

I didn't love Vice Versa, but I am ecstatic to see its installment next week. It's giving me Baby Shark. It's giving me colors. It's giving me Sea's side profile. It's giving me the possibility that Tess had a kid!

Daddy Sharks, doo-doo, doo-doo. Daddy Sharks, doo-doo, doo-doo

[sparkiekong]

OC question of the day!

If you could make a character real, which of your OCs would be:

your bestie

your spouse/partner

your secret lover!

your friendly rival

your enemy!

BONUS: do this for other people’s OCs too!

Pass the game along (anonymously or not)

@igglemouse @108sims and @helenofsimblr - OK! I'll do it!! Fine. I had to think hard and it's still too difficult so here goes!

Bestie would be Eel - He's got so much to tell yet. I can't wait for you all to see all he's got to offer. He's chill, he's the guy you could count on when you think no one else would. He'd be there for you no matter what. Followed in closely by the two Nicks - Nick Gould (@helenofsimblr) and Nickie Catzenberg - You can bet your ass they'll back you up and if they think you're wrong they'll say so. Lyra, Bob and Cat are a good friends to bestie up with... Lyra's sensibilities, Bob's honor and strong sense of right, with Cat's kindness. Franny would be fun at a party as would Guy and Elita. Oh, John boy is so sweet. He's such a tender hearted fellow. I want him to succeed... Wilbur Laffer would be my buddy too. He's hilarious and fun.

I know it sound cliche, but I could be friends with anyone I've created or @helenofsimblr's characters. I basically see them all everyday in my head so they all really feel like they could just walk in the door and be like "Hey Kong how's it going."

No spouse no one can replace my boo... EVER. Sorry! - I actually have a sim of him in game with my simself. You may see them in background shots from time to time. Hubby heavily inspired RT Van Richten and he has a lot of inspiration on the lore and personalities of several prominent characters.

Secret Lover - Kyleigh from @helenofsimblr she's a sultry thing. On my side, Cat or Evie... heck, just book me for a night with all three of those lovely ladies. DC could pop in too. I like a girl that can mix a good drink.

friendly rival - Morrigan from mine and Kira from @helenofsimblr both have this feeling about them that they could be very friendly or very aggressive like there's no dimmer switch for it's either friendly or bitch mode and you can't tell when it's going to be which mood. It just doesn't mesh well with my very conflict adverse self. I much prefer chill people.

enemy - Probably Azura (Crazy AF) , Jure (pompous ass), and Yakob (CREEPY) they're horrible and crazy! Also no Moriarty fam... those guys... well... bad news always from those guys... and Cedric... from @helenofsimblr - he was such a horrid influence on Lyra in a moment of darkness after Bob was "dead". Not a fan of Soggy Sarah Sanders either. She's such a wet noodle. Isaac Danvers is on my shit list too! I was so glad to see DC punch him.

[jeongyunhoed]

As seen on my FF.net Also seen on my Ao3

Following the events of fifth year, a new adventure awaits for Norah Lee. Boys, exams, school events, common room parties, and old foes outside of Hogwarts. Even battling pensieve guardians was easier than this.

Main Pair: OC / Ominis Gaunt Genre: Adventure/Angst/Fluff (it's a little of everything, tbh)

KEEP IN MIND: Characters are aged up (even if the story's got them in sixth year) to make it more appropriate. Time period is leaning towards the modern day so in case you might find anachronisms in the dialogue or references, this is why. This may also be quite a lengthy fic too.

BE WARNED: Social anxiety, mentions of blood and injury, grief, drinking, kissing but nothing more than that, death (this is Hogwarts Legacy, after all)

P.P.S: Norah's got 99 problems and the Ravenclaw party isn't one of them. But seriously, no one's enjoying amongst her circle, and she kind of spirals into self-doubt. Also, Ominis, Leander, and Garreth all gang up on a bunch of fifth year bullies aka Nicholas and his gang.

Masterlist

Chapter 24

The Ravenclaw common room party. The drama and intrigue the past several days hadn't died down, and many had now anticipated what was going to happen by this time, especially when three of the four people involved were bound to cross each other's paths in the Ravenclaw common room, two of which were already under the same house and did everything to avoid running into each other. Second to Slytherin, Ravenclaws were also known for having the best parties, mostly because their dormitory had the added feature of a rooftop deck, perfect for couples who want to be alone.

Music was blasting all throughout the space, bathed in blue mood lights which gave the entire common room a more sultry feel, as if they were in a sophisticated speakeasy. Being the prefects, Henry and Mahendra helped the seventh years put together the tables of food and drink, including a few kegs of Garreth's fizz-beer. For obvious reasons, Natty and Poppy were also inside, already dressed for the occasion and helping wherever they can.

This time around, the rooftop deck was going to be closed off for the game that they were widely anticipated to play. It was equally decorated, thanks to Samantha's green thumbs, with an assortment of roses and flowers to set a kind of mood. There was also a keg of fizz-beer in case the game's players would get a little thirsty.

"I have a feeling this would be the best party yet," Constance Dagworth beamed with pride at the ambiance created by the lights and the music. "Who gets the honor of being the decider for 7 Minutes in Heaven?" She asked.

"The seventh years, of course," Mahendra grinned. "It's their last house party in Hogwarts after all."

They suddenly saw Amit emerge from the staircase, followed by Andrew, finally dressed in more casual wear. "Oh, here comes the Hogwarts heartthrob and Andrew," Constance teased.

Andrew laughed, nudging his friend as they approached the table, Poppy immediately going up to him and holding his hand. "So, I think people are coming in," He said, hearing the slight buzz coming from the entrances. "They're quite early, don't you think?"

"There's plenty of food and drink for everyone to come in, and I doubt they'd run us out," Henry assured him, wrapping an arm around Natty to hold her close. Natty beamed. "Did Sebastian and Ominis say they were coming?"

Natty glanced at Andrew, Amit, and Poppy for a moment, wondering if she should say anything. "I-I'm sure they are. Sebastian's apparently coming with Adele? They've been going out for quite sometime and never really bothered to tell anyone else."

"Not even Norah? She's his best friend, isn't she?" Andrew was curious, as was Amit. Poppy, however, looked pleased at the thought.

Natty shook her head. "I don't think she knows. But I'd like to think she has some idea of what's going on. They're under the same house, she's bound to know if she didn't already. We just caught them snogging in that hidden room behind the fireplace in the library. They've been going there often."

"Is she going? Didn't you say she promised she'd come to the party," Henry recalled.

Strike two, Natty thought. "She did, but I guess she's got different plans, the last time I saw her, that is. We might as well enjoy ourselves."

"She's not going?" Amit suddenly asked.

Natty shrugged. Oh right, Amit didn't know. "I don't know, haven't heard of anything from her. But you know her, she's often keeping to herself."

Henry eyed the brunette. "Amit, didn't you tell Norah you couldn't hang out with her? Or be seen with her?"

"I was just asking," Amit pointed out, reminded of what he said to her that day.

Poppy wrinkled her nose. "In my opinion, Amit was right for not wanting to be seen with her that way. I didn't think she'd do something like that with you, that manipulative tart."

Her comments made the group's expressions change from concerned to surprised. "...You actually believe what people have been saying about her?" Henry questioned. Andrew looked a little flustered, while Amit also looked alarmed.

"She hasn't denied it, has she? She certainly hasn't told me anything," Poppy raised a brow. "I don't know why you're all still hanging around her. Especially you, Natty. Think of all the times Norah and Henry were together. Don't you think she might get him to break up with you?"

Natty couldn't believe what the Hufflepuff girl was saying. "Unfortunately Poppy, I disagree with you. Norah would never do something like that. That's not very nice considering that you're her friend."

Poppy shook her head. "Frankly, I don't want to be anymore. What if she tries to get Andrew to break up with me? She can't stand not being the center of attention and she'd rather ruin our lives for her benefit."

"Poppy, you're being out of line. Norah did not do anything of the sort," Amit was forced to speak. "I told her I wasn't ready and I put my foot in my mouth for even mentioning me confiding in her. This is all my fault. Mine."

Poppy only scoffed. "Poppy," Natty stepped in. "If you're so willing to not be friends with Norah anymore over the gossip that people have spread about her, then you were never a true friend to her in the first place," Her voice was firm. "It would also be wise to stop accusing your own boyfriend and mine of weakness."

"So be it, I'd rather not be around her sort," Poppy said with some finality, pulling Andrew away from them to sit in a corner.

More people were beginning to emerge, and Amit, Natty, and Henry sighed. "...Am I the only one or that wasn't very Hufflepuff of her?" the tall blonde broke the silence between them. "And then I thought my sister Rosalie could have a bad mood. I stand corrected."

"I'm going to get myself a drink," Amit walked off.

In the corner stood Samantha, having overheard the tense exchange between them. The party wasn't starting the way they had hoped even in the midst of a growing number of students filling the rooms.

Natty, on the other hand, couldn't help but think where Norah was at that moment. She could only hope that she was alright.

~

"Oh hello Madame Treadwell," Norah came across the merchant at the eastern bog, the wife of researcher Nora Treadwell. "What do you have for sale today?"

Priya's stall opened in front of her. "A new broom if you're in the market for another. I heard the enchantments Albie Weekes has given your brooms made them all perform brilliantly."

Norah smiled. "Fortunately, yes. But I've just come for a few more bottles of wiggenweld potion. I realized I was running out when I arrived here."

"What brings you to this part of the country and at this hour?" Priya was curious. "You're quite the thrill-seeker, aren't you?"

The Slytherin girl shook her head. "Just revisiting old places I used to have to go to. In fact, I am curious about something, if you can help me, Madam Treadwell? About that Coastal Cavern?" She tilted her head to the structure at the distance. "Do you think there are still some loyalists around?"

Priya seemed to catch onto what she was asking. "You've risked your life enough to rid us of Ranrok and Rookwood. Even with Harlow on the loose, I'd think it might be wise for you to sit this one out. You've helped us enough," She advised.

"Until Harlow's permanently in Azkaban and unable to escape, I'm afraid this is my fight," Norah frowned.

The woman seemed to understand. "What kind of world do we live in when students, children, have to be the one solving our problems?" She said with a hint of sadness in her voice. "Not even the Ministry is doing anything."

"That's what our Hospital Wing nurse said too," Norah said quietly. "But I'll be fine, Madam Treadwell. I've taken on loyalists before, I can still do it now."

After she finished paying for the potions, Norah mounted her broom and flew toward the entrance of the Coastal Cavern. It wasn't far from the goblin mine she infiltrated with Amit the year before, but it was twice as full of loyalists. It took some convincing of her friends for Norah to go at this alone, reminding them of the initial plan. Despite their concerns, she was aware that they'd be preoccupied with their love lives to keep worrying about her. That realization seemed to bring about a wave of loneliness, reminding her that this was her fight and her fight alone.

They needed to move on with their lives after all, but it did remind Norah of her time in the muggle school. Always the loner, never really being seen as someone worthy of befriending. Norah was convinced that this was the right thing to do. She shook her head, trying to rid her mind of the sudden self-doubt that was creeping in as she landed not too far from the kneazle lair close to the entrance.

Much like the Overlook mine, the Coastal Cavern looked overrun with nature. The remains of loyalists and trolls she fought the previous year were scattered all over, the chests of weapons and boilers had understandably burned out over time. She remembered what Amit said, about Bragbor's journals. She needed to find and get those journals to figure out what Isidora might have told him, even if there was a big chance that it would only detail how he built the repository.

It was eerily quiet, save for the chirps from pigeons and the scuttling feet of squirrels and possibly rabbits. Norah quickly foraged the horklumps growing nearby before taking a few steps toward the entrance. It was getting darker and Norah immediately lit a few torches to illuminate the path. It had always been quite dim but going inside at night made the environment even darker.

"This could prove dangerous if I'm not careful," Norah muttered to herself, immediately on alert for any other movements. "If there are journals here, I'm going to get it."

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Before Norah could non-verbally cast a shield, she fell to the ground, her body completely frozen. An Ashwinder scout emerged from a dark corner. "You were right after all, Carrow."

Nicholas also emerged from the corner, looking satisfied. "I spotted you leaving the grounds earlier, mudblood," He kicked her face as hard as he could, blood suddenly gushing out from her nose. He looked around, then back at her, kicking her face once again. "Don't think I forgot about that duel we had in the common room..."

"What do you suppose we do with her?" The Ashwinder scout muttered.

Nicholas smirked, but not before spitting on Norah's face as well. "We can leave her here, or bring her to your boss. Take your pick. I don't really care."

Even the Ashwinder seemed to find it unusual how Nicholas was behaving. They seemed to cackle even louder, echoing throughout the entire cavern. "Shame. Selwyn would've wanted to see this. The very child Ranrok and Rookwood were after, now lying at our feet."

No sooner than Nicholas straightened his jacket and pants did he fall to the ground, equally frozen. Another Ashwinder scout emerged from the corner. "Sorry, we needed some insurance. Besides, why take one when we can have another, and a pureblood wizard at that..." They said, levitating both their bodies as they vanished.

~

Back at the party, the game hadn't begun just yet. Everyone was hanging around the common room, either dancing to the music, drinking, or helping themselves to the tables of food that were brought in from the kitchens much to the delight of the house elves that worked there. Ominis stood in one corner of the common room, a cup of Garreth's fizz-beer in hand as he listened and observed everyone else having fun. Sebastian was standing next to him, an arm around Adele's waist as he whispered in her ear.

"Having fun, Ominis?" Adele suddenly asked, giggling at whatever Sebastian whispered to her.

The blonde didn't answer, which Sebastian took as a response. "Hey, it wouldn't hurt to have some fun once in a while," He nudged his friend.

"It's easy for you to say. Didn't even tell me about you and Adele becoming an item, I've had to hear it from Violet," Ominis muttered in between sips. His mind was racing, wondering where Norah might be at this time. "You could've at least said something."

Their expressions fell at his words, Sebastian looked especially guilty, which Ominis sensed. "I was going to-"

"Ominis, I-" Adele tried to speak.

"Going to?" Ominis cut her off. "And here we were, wondering where you were so happily going off to. The so-called detention sessions turned out to be meeting in the library to snog your mouths away."

"Hey," Sebastian tried to get a word in.

"Don't 'hey' me," Ominis cut him off as well. "If we were really friends, you'd at least say something about your relationship."

"Don't try and take out your frustration on me just because I managed to get a girlfriend before you," Sebastian argued. "You think I was going to let a chance pass me by?"

Ominis's brows narrowed. "I don't doubt it at all. But you're keeping secrets again, aren't you? What's next? Having another go at curing Anne?"

Adele could feel her cheeks heating up and she cleared her throat. "I think I'll go talk to Nellie over there, you two sort this-whatever this is, out without me," She pulled away from the brunette and walked off.

Sebastian sighed. "Look, I'm sorry I never told you that Adele and I were going out. But it's Adele, it's not like I'm dating some dark witch or something," He tried to explain.

"Have you told Norah?" Ominis asked.

"I-" Sebastian shook his head. "I haven't."

"How do you think Adele would feel if you told her you used to go out with Nellie?" Ominis suddenly recalled, taking Sebastian by surprise.

"As much as I owe you two an explanation, I'll tell Adele in time, if things work out, alright?" Sebastian assured him. "I'm sorry I've had to keep this from you, from Norah, from a lot of you, really. I should've been more forthcoming about it."

"You do realize how word gets around easily? As much as I've had to hear about Henry and Natty's snog sessions near the Restricted Section, I've also had to hear about you two," Ominis grumbled. "Have you even checked in on Norah lately?"

Sebastian stared at him, feeling like he had put his foot further into his mouth again. "I-No, I haven't."

Ominis sighed. "It figures, she hasn't told you, and now I'm wondering if she's alright," He was about to put his cup down when he heard one of the seventh years say out loud.

"For 7 Minutes in Heaven, Amit Thakkar and Samantha Dale!"

If it wasn't for the music playing, the entire common room would've gone silent at the mention of their names. Amit slowly emerged as well as Samantha, both of them quietly going up the staircase and to the deck, in which one of the seventh years was standing by to lock them in, setting a stopwatch to seven minutes as the lively mood of the party resumed.

"That ought to fix things between them," Ominis muttered.

"Oh right," Sebastian remembered all the gossip that he heard, with his own friend getting dragged into it. Not that he believed what they were saying. He turned to Ominis with a sigh. "Where's Norah?"

"That's what I'm going to find out," Ominis drank the last of the contents in his cup, letting his wand guide him down to the door and out of the common room. Garreth, who was about to bring up another keg of butterbeer from the Three Broomsticks, spotted Ominis. Sebastian saw them mutter something to each other that made the redhead leave the task of bringing up the keg to Cressida. He looked back at the party, seeing his girlfriend deep in conversation with Nellie, who seemed unfazed about the fact that Amit and Samantha were called to play the game.

He quietly slipped away from the party, going down the steps and out of the common room, hoping to catch up to Ominis and Garreth. With the way Ominis seemed worried, it was making Sebastian worry too. He had been so caught up with his dates with Adele that he had completely forgotten about the plans they made.

But as he continued to try and find them throughout the halls and staircases, it seemed like Ominis and Garreth vanished with the floo flame nearby.

~

The petrified forms of both Norah and Nicholas were hidden away in what seemed like a cell in the Coastal Caverns.

A growing number of Ashwinders and poachers, some newly joining the cause, were assembling down below. "With the power that Rookwood and Ranrok were searching last year, we can restart our empire, we can overrun the major institutions that govern the Wizarding World," Harlow declared. "We even have the child they were after in our possession now, something they failed to do."

Cheers erupted, reverberating in the room they were kept. Norah couldn't move, yet she could see Nicholas's frozen form across from her. She kept willing herself to at least move her eyes. It was then that she remembered what to do, and what she could train herself to do under this kind of circumstance. She was going to try and non-verbally cast magic.

Finite, she kept thinking.

Finite.

Finite.

Finite.

Finite.

Finite.

Norah began to concentrate, think of the spell as hard as she could. It was too risky to invoke ancient magic now, as it could kill her if she did anything outside what she had done before. By now, they would be looking for her. They would even be looking for Nicholas, or they might not, depending on whoever knew of his whereabouts.

To her surprise, several boys, whom Norah recognized were Nicholas's friends had snuck inside, all of them looking at her with satisfied sneers on their faces as they cast a counter spell to break their friend out of his petrified state.

"Oh, boys, I can't tell you how relieved I am to see you all," Nicholas was quick to compose himself as they helped him up. Norah wondered what he was going to do as he stared her down, her questions getting answered by another kick to her face, followed by several more against her body. They were beating her up while she was down before cackling to themselves as they left the cell, stepping over the equally petrified bodies of the poachers that were keeping watch.

As much as she wanted to be surprised, she wasn't. Norah went back to concentrating again.

Finite.

Finite.

Finite.

Finite.

If she was able to break free, then it would mark another lesson she learned. Norah needed to focus. She had been in a tough situation before, whenever she'd go into caves or abandoned castles. She reminded herself that she could do this. Where she had gone was already enough to continue following Harlow. If she could ever break out, that is.

Finite.

Finite.

Finite.

Finite.

Finite.

"Norah?"

She saw a faint red glow coming from the doorway. It sounded like Ominis. Norah wanted to make a sound, but couldn't. "Where is she?" She heard another voice that she realized was Garreth. "Norah?"

"Norah couldn't have been held captive, could she?" a third voice emerged, in which Norah recognized was Leander's. The three of them?

"Someone's in there," Ominis said, and the two Gryffindors rushed inside, opening the door. Norah felt her insides drop from relief. It really was the three of them.

"Norah! Norah!" Garreth knelt beside her, in disbelief with how she looked. "Finite!"

She rolled over on her stomach, Leander quickly helping her up. "How-how did you three know I was going to be here?" She was curious.

"Well, it's a funny story," Garreth exchanged looks with the other two boys. "We had a feeling you were coming here but we weren't sure at first so we apparated near the bog, then we saw Nicholas Carrow and his friends. That merchant Priya Treadwell told us you went in here, and when we apparated to the entrance, we heard Nicholas gloating about them beating you up and leaving you."

"So we confronted them and gave them a taste of their own medicine," Leander shrugged. "That twat had it coming anyway. He's tied up outside along with his friends. We had to do um, some persuading to get them to tell us where you are."

Norah glanced at Ominis, who had a satisfied smirk on his face. "They keep forgetting we know more spells than them," The blonde said. "We might as well tell Professor Weasley what Nicholas Carrow has tried to do."

"Oh, well, how was the party so far? Was it fun? I bet it was," Norah asked, wiping the blood on her face with her sleeve. She noticed how dressed up they had been, especially Ominis, whose blonde hair was once again styled a little casually, with one lock hanging over his eyes. Garreth in particular was wearing a shirt that was unbuttoned to an extent that exposed a bit of his chest. Leander's leather jacket also seemed to suit his tall frame.

"It depends on who you ask. I heard Poppy talked shit about you when it started," Garreth explained, making Ominis' expression fall.

"When we left, Amit and Samantha were called to do 7 Minutes in Heaven. They must be done by now," Ominis said. "I admit I'm disappointed in Poppy for believing all that rubbish about you."

"Aren't we all?" Leander muttered. "We aren't doing ourselves any favors in here, we should get back to the castle. While the party's still going on."

"Good idea," Garreth said, and they rushed out of the cell and out of the cavern. "We kind of need to bring them along first."

They reappeared in an empty and Central Hall, where Ominis untied the fifth years they brought along. Norah took a moment to drink a vial of wiggenweld, but she needed a few bandages to cover the cuts on her face and suddenly feeling aches on her body where she was kicked and beaten from earlier.

"We ought to tell Professor Weasley what you lot have done," Garreth turned to the fifth years. "I knew you hated people who weren't purebloods like you, but this is a whole other level."

"Don't you have detention right now, Carrow?" Ominis rounded on Nicholas. "You ought to be there or they'll start asking questions."

"Well, I'm not, and I don't have detention anymore," Nicholas smirked. "My parents talked to Black, and he revoked Hecat's punishment. You're looking at a free man, Gaunt. Oh, sorry, I forgot you can't look."

"Not even a thank you for getting back here when we could've just left you at that Cavern?" Leander raised a brow. "I would've thought you were raised to have some modicum of manners. Guess not."

Nicholas ignored him and gestured his friends to follow him up the stairs. As soon as they disappeared, the four of them turned to each other, the three boys suddenly feeling the aches and pains from earlier on their bodies. Norah handed them a few more vials of wiggenweld, watching them drink the potions in amusement. "And then I was going to be impressed they never got to fight back," She snorted. "Well, I'm now in a partying mood, let's go," She cheered.

"Merlin, you never really stop moving around, do you?" Leander said with an exasperated sigh as they trudged toward the nearest floo flame, the four of them appearing at the foot of Ravenclaw tower. They climbed up the staircase, moving past who they realized was Constance Dagwell and Caleb, both of whom were talking animatedly outside the common room, holding cups of Garreth's fizz-beer.

For a moment, Constance opened the doors for them and they hurried up to join everyone, trying to stay casual about their reappearance. Sebastian immediately went up to them, looking alarmed especially at the sight of Norah.

"What in Merlin's bollocks happened to the four of you?" He said.

"Long story, Sebastian, why don't we just enjoy what's left of this party," Norah immediately replied, helping herself to a cup of fizz-beer, wrinkling her nose when the rim of the cup touched the spot where Nicholas kicked her. "I guess Amit and Samantha are already done with their seven minutes in heaven."

"I mean, yeah, you are right in that they finished not too long ago, but what happened to you guys? Why are you all in some kind of pain?" Sebastian pressed, partly to cover for his own guilt in not knowing much earlier. "Did you get in a fight without magic?...Or did you duel with a group of Ashwinders?" His voice was low in the latter, so as not to let anyone else hear them.

"Don't worry, Sebastian, it's all over and taken care of now," Norah waved a hand dismissively. "Besides, it's not like we were hiding a relationship," She eyed him.

Sebastian frowned. There it was. He knew it wouldn't get past her. "Alright, alright, that's fair," He stood back. "I'm sorry I never told you guys about me and Addie, alright? I'm sorry you've had to hear about it from other people."

"Violet and Hector, respectively," Ominis chimed in. "And Charlotte, and Nerida, and Eric..."

"Alright, I get it," Sebastian sighed.

"It's fine, Sebastian," Norah glanced at him. "At least she makes you happy, and at least you're happy. I mean, you were never going to be single forever, right? You saw a chance after the Hufflepuff party and took it."

"What a coincidence, Sebastian told me the same thing when I called him out on it," Ominis added.

The freckled brunette didn't know what to say. He didn't know whether to be annoyed at Ominis's prodding or relieved at Norah's assurance "I-I guess?"

"Get him, Norah," They heard Garreth suddenly cheer from his place, Leander cracking up and nearly spitting his drink. "Make him squirm!"

Norah laughed. "With this revelation, I'm surprised you're not stuck by your girlfriend's side tonight. Henry and Natty certainly are joined at the hip, and I could say the same for Andrew and Poppy," She commented, looking over at the couple, who were absorbed in their own conversation while laughing along toward which two people were next.

"I'm not, and she's off with Nellie, talking, possibly about quidditch or something," Sebastian shrugged. "But I'm still going to hang out with you two, I'm not going anywhere! I promise!"

"Really? Because Natty made that same promise, and look at her now," Norah raised a brow, feeling that pang of loneliness suddenly hit her again. She looked over at the Gryffindor girl, who was cuddling with Henry in one seat.

"I do! I promise!" Sebastian and Ominis sensed the shift in her demeanor. "We're in different houses anyway, it's not like she's a Slytherin too."

Norah smiled and shook her head. "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll head to the hospital wing, see if Nurse Blainey has some bandages for my nose. Good night, you two."

She stood up straight and disposed of her cup, hurrying back down the steps and out the common room. Ominis sighed. "Wow, I suppose this party wasn't fun at all..." He muttered as he took a sip.

Norah tried to swallow hard as she climbed down the staircase to make her way toward the hospital wing. She wanted to be happy for Sebastian. After everything he had gone through, he deserved something good in his life. The same could be said for Natty, who also went through a lot the previous year. But for some reason, she was beginning to feel like people were leaving her all over again. They made those promises to still hang out, but, there was no other way to describe how she felt other than hurt.

Was she wrong for suddenly acting or feeling this way? Norah wasn't sure, but she was certainly feeling hurt, sad, and dare she admit, lonely. She felt stuck, unsure of what to do with herself next. She knew the right thing to do was not to stand in the way of any of them, but perhaps it would also mean that they shouldn't be involved in her plan anymore, even if they objected.

As she arrived in the Hospital Wing, she immediately went up to Nurse Blainey, who tended to whatever wounds she had left that hadn't healed quite yet.

"I don't know what you've gotten into at this hour, but it has definitely taken a toll on your face, hasn't it? Peeves and his blasted tricks again. Don't move," Nurse Blainey muttered an enchantment, immediately healing her nose. "Merlin's beard, you've gotten covered in blood too...lie down and get some rest. You can return to your common room tomorrow."

Norah's clothes were transfigured into a set of silky pajamas as she lay back, a house elf discreetly appearing to pick up her clothes and wash them, disapparating in the blink of an eye. She took the dreamless sleep potion Nurse Blainey gave her and drank it. Norah sighed and closed her eyes as she began to think about it again.

As far as she knew, Poppy hated her now, Amit wouldn't hang out with her, and now Sebastian and Natty were caught up in their own relationships. It was just going to be her and Ominis from now on, or perhaps with Garreth and Leander. Her and Ominis that never seemed to anywhere since he asked her to the Yule Ball.

On top of that, Nicholas Carrow tried to sell her out to the Ashwinders, only for his plan to backfire when he was petrified too. That didn't change his hatred for her, however. But there was still the looming problem of Harlow rebuilding the empire he once had. Would that mean restarting Horntail Hall? Would that mean taking control of several ruined castles all over again?

And then there was the possibility of her parents getting a visit from Harlow's lot, to possibly shake them down, or worse, kill them.

It was getting overwhelming, and all Norah felt like doing was going home. It was also then that she remembered she invited Sebastian, Anne, and Ominis to her home. She suddenly didn't feel like doing so anymore.

"What in Godric's bollocks is wrong with me?...never mind," She mumbled, trying to get herself to sleep. "Maybe I really am meant to be alone."

As she drifted off, Ominis appeared at the threshold of the hospital wing, the glowing tip of his wand guiding him to where Norah could be. They had both been through a lot, and he could sense what she was going through, the thoughts that must be racing her mind.

Quietly, Ominis pulled the chair nearby to sit down beside her. They were alone again, and this time away from the ruckus that was the party. Shortly after Norah left, he followed her, to Sebastian's confusion. He had a feeling he knew what Norah was going through.

He tilted his head to observe her, picking up the way she breathed. From his wand picking up an empty vial by the bedside table, Ominis sensed she took something to help her sleep. He suddenly remembered something Henry told him not too long ago. That he hadn't mapped her face yet despite knowing her for a while.

Ominis raised a hand, letting it hover over Norah's forehead before touching it ever so slightly. His hand moved, fingers gently tracing the outlines of her eyebrows, hovering over her eyelids and her eyelashes. His mind was already painting him a picture of what she looked like, and Ominis could tell she was sleeping peacefully. He knew to go even gentler over her nose, feeling the bridge until the tip, and then to her lips.

Her lips were soft, Ominis thought, as he mapped her face some more, feeling her jaw and then her cheek. He was impressed Norah was deep asleep and didn't wake up anytime soon. As he had long thought, Norah looked perfect.

"I know how you feel," He whispered. "But I just thought you ought to know, you still have me. I'm not going anywhere."

[byberbunk2069]

@streetkid-named-desire tagged me for an OC association thing. I copy-pasted from their post

I tag @fourth-floor-at-langley, @medtech-mara, @aggravateddurian

I'm using the most recent pictures I have of them but their appearances are gonna be changing again over time (not so much with my netrunner tho)

First is Veil (aka V31L or any variation that other runners might have seen her handle as):

Animal: Standard domestic cat because that is just the general vibe netrunners give off tbh

Colors: 007BA7

Month: June/July (wrt birth month: January)

Plants: She's a California girl at heart so she likes palm trees

Numbers: I was gonna go for 23 for reasons relating to William Burroughs and Psychic TV but I'll go for 42 as the maximum RAM she had in the most recent playthrough

Songs:

Cowgirl - Underworld

Mindfields - The Prodigy

Teardrop - Massive Attack

Smells: Tropical fruits, coconut, vanilla

Time of Day: 10PM - 5AM

Food: Combination of classy Japanese dining and street food.

Drinks: Rum & Coke, beer, real coffee (bought off a black market dealer on the Net)

Elements: uwu the fifth one

Seasonings: the shit that makes Indian curries slap (I'm Bri'ish so I've only ever had a proper curry a few times and the others have been bastardised ones made at home)

Weapons: Quickhacks, Skippy, D5 Sidewinder, Hercules 3AX, suppressed Unity

Places: EdgeNet (Yoko Tsuru's shop), H10 rooftop

Sky: Clear night sky (so she can see the moon)

Weather: Rainy days, clear nights

Candy: I think bubblegum counts. Cigarettes definitely don't count.

Hobbies: Hacking, arguing with other Netrunners, remote controlling her Galena when she decides now is the right time to get in to a disagreement over the phone or with a passenger.

Artstyle: Patrick Nagel

Fear: The collective weight of guilt after spending 11 years of her life in NetWatch and the last few of those years sub-conning for Arasaka catching up with her. Losing her found family.

Clothing item: Black leather racers, knotted tank, personalised edgerunner with shoulder mounted monitor on the left sleeve and shoulder pad on the right, heeled boots (her wardrobe varies but that set in particular is her go to)

Three Emojis: 🧠⚡💥

Star Sign: Capricorn

Ronnie below the keep reading:

Animal: Some kind of attack dog, doberman maybe.

Colors: #660000

Month: August (birth month)

Plants: Roses

Numbers: 10 - which was the most she took on (so far) in an impromptu street fight in Northside. Unfortunately for her the gang was NCPD and they had to deploy a netrunner to pacify her.

Songs:

Boys Wanna Be Her - Peaches

Hips, Tits, Lips, Power! - Pigface/Silverfish

If You Want Blood (You Got It) - GWAR

bonus: Ratfinks, Suicide Tanks and Cannibal Girls - White Zombie (also Caramelldansen but because of that one Doom Eternal meme which is Ronniecore)

Smells: Pineapple

Time of Day: 8PM

Food: Pizza

Drinks: Beer

Elements: Fire

Seasonings: hottest possible chilli powder

Weapons: Cut-O-Matic, Baseball Bat, Carnage, her (cyber)fists

Places: Lizzie's, trailer park outside SanDom, Megabuilding H11

Sky: She was born way after the Time of the Red but that.

Weather: Rainy

Candy: leelou beans.

Hobbies: Fighting, sleeping, defending her output's honor (even though she's capable of standing up for herself).

Artstyle: Jamie Hewlett

Fear: Adam Smasher, Militech

Clothing item: black bustier, short shorts, harness, fishnet tights, combat boots

Three Emojis: 🦾👊🪚 < pretend thats a cut-o-matic

Star Sign: Leo

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 8

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 2595

Warnings: None

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: I Ain't Worried Red

****

Ghost

Juliette and Rooster adored the presents Ghost gave them, laughing at the wine and beer glasses that said "Because Twins" and grinning like children themselves over the multiple outfits for each other and the babies. 

"Thank you for all of this! These are wonderful!" Juliette exclaimed, hugging her friend tightly. Rooster followed suit. "I can't wait for the day I can actually fill that wine glass with alcohol. I don't drink a lot by any means, but God, I'd kill to have some Baileys or whiskey. Or both. Both is good."

"Speaking of killing someone, the Daggers might kill us if we're late," Rooster said, checking the time. "We better get going. Ghost, want a ride?"

"Thanks, but I'll just take my motorcycle. Besides, I think the dogs want to come." Ghost nodded at the two German Shepherds sitting at the door, their tags wagging and tongues flopped out to the side while they stared expectantly at their owners.

Juliette placed her hands on her hips. "Boys, do you want to go to the beach?" She asked, causing both dogs to bark eagerly and dance in circles around each other. The trio laughed at their excitement. "All right, follow Daddy to the car. Momma's gotta grab her purse." 

Rooster opened the door, and the dogs bolted out. Ghost waited for Juliette to grab her purse. She noticed her friend take some Tylenol, prompting her to ask, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I've been having bad headaches recently. I think it's the lack of sleep and the strain this big belly puts on my back. I have a doctor's appointment in a couple of days, so I'll bring it up with her then, make sure it's nothing to worry about."

"You up to going to the beach? If not, I'll stay here with you," Ghost offered. As much as she meant her words sincerely out of concern for her friend. Ghost also prayed Jules wished to stay home so she wouldn't have to face Hangman.

"Yeah, I'll sit in the shade with Penny and play fetch with the dogs. Come on. You're going to love the game!"

Trying to hide her disappointment, Ghost plastered on a smile and followed Juliette out the door. She hopped onto her motorcycle and trailed closely behind Rooster to the beach, trying to ignore the nerves rapidly spreading throughout her body. Ghost chastised herself for letting herself get this nervous: It's just a game, and it's one day. It's not like I'm going to be left alone with Jake, and I have Juliette and Rooster if I need friends. I even have Phoenix. Deep breaths. Deep breaths...

They pulled into adjoining parking spots and strode over to the Daggers, who already tossed the football around. A familiar man stood to the side, chatting with Penny and Hondo. He beamed at the sight of Rooster and Juliette, hugging them when they approached. "Hey! Glad you two could make it. Who's your friend?"

"Mav, this is Annalise Blackwood, callsign Ghost," Juliette introduced proudly. "Ghost, this is Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell and Bernie 'Hondo' Coleman."

"It's an honor," Ghost said, shaking the men's hands but finding herself starstruck by Maverick. He'd been her idol for as long as she could remember after her mom told her stories about him. Ghost barely managed to say, "I've heard a lot about you, sir."

"Not sure if that's a good or bad thing," Maverick joked, but he studied her curiously. "Forgive me if I'm wrong, but are you related to Charlotte Blackwood by any chance?"

"Yes, sir," Ghost replied with a smile. "She's my mom."

"How is she?"

"Good, good. She lives in DC with my dad now and is still working with the Pentagon."

"Tell her I say hi, next time you speak to her."

"I will! So-" Ghost scanned the Daggers, trying to figure out if they were already playing the game- "what's dogfight football?"

"Glad you asked!" Maverick clapped his hands and dove into an explanation. It ended up being much simpler than Ghost thought it'd be, and she looked forward to playing until Hangman jogged up to them with the Daggers in tow, reminding her he'd be here the entire time. She kept her head in Maverick's direction but used her dark, reflective sunglasses to hide the fact her line of sight focused on Jake Seresin. Outside of their brief reunion in the Hard Deck, she hadn't given herself a chance to properly look at him, but she did now. Ghost couldn't help noticing his bulging biceps and rock-hard abs or the thin sheen of sweat glistening on his body and accentuating the perfection of his Adonis build. 

"Hey, Pops, we ready to-" Hangman stopped short at the sight of his long-time 'acquaintance.' "Ghost! What are you doing here?"

"Juliette and Phoenix invited me," Ghost responded, unsure how she managed to sound so calm when she felt anything but.

"Glad you could join us." He flashed her what appeared to be a genuine smile before turning to Maverick. "All right, Pops, we're ready to play. We picking teams?"

Maverick nodded. "We are. All right, captains today are-" Maverick lifted his phone and played a roulette-type game on his phone. It apparently chose the names for him. "Omaha and Coyote, you're captains. Let's see who your teammates will be."

Maverick hit the roulette again, assigning each person to a team. Hangman and Rooster ended up on opposing teams and egged each other on until the last name had been called. Ghost's name.

"You'll be on Coyote's team," Maverick said, clapping her shoulder. Ghost smiled but couldn't help the involuntary glance in Hangman's direction, who would be on her team. "You all ready?"

The group cheered and scrambled down to the beach. Juliette shuffled off to a shaded picnic bench with Penny and the dogs. Ghost trailed behind the Daggers, feeling slightly left out despite the mass group she found herself a part of. She hoped the sensation would disappear once they started playing, but people had always tended to forget about her, whether Ghost wanted them to or not. It was part of how she obtained her callsign, and while she lived up to it now with her skill as a stealth pilot, the truth behind its origin still got to her on occasion, like now.

Coyote and team huddled together; Ghost stood opposite Hangman, their heads nearly touching as the group devised a game plan. 

"All right, positions are as follows," Coyote said, "Hangman, you're fullback, and Ghost, you're halfback. Harvard, Phoenix, I want you two as defense. I'll be quarterback. Bob, Fritz, you're wide receivers."

Ghost and Hangman shared a look. It was thanks to Jake that she knew all she did about football between him being on the team both in high school and in college and having been scouted by a few NFL teams that he ultimately turned down to pursue his career as a pilot. She also knew the fullback's primary responsibility was protecting the halfback. Ghost wondered if Coyote assigned them these positions on purpose...

"Anything I should know about how the others play?" Ghost queried. "Anyone I need to watch out for?"

"Don't underestimate Maverick," Hangman replied immediately. "Pops can move. Rooster is fast but isn't too agile. Omaha is the opposite of that. Yale is speedy and agile but not great at catching. Halo is sneaky but is afraid to get tackled. Payback and Fanboy are a package deal, so if you see one, the other's not far behind, and they're great at defense."

Ghost nodded, and then Coyote came up with a game plan. After making eye contact with each member to confirm they understood, they broke apart and got into their respective positions. Ghost stood behind Hangman, hating herself for admiring his well-defined, muscular back. She barely heard Coyote yell "hike" before the game began. Ghost darted forward to him, trying to scan and understand the mayhem at the same time. She noticed a small break in the defense between Halo and Omaha. Hangman ran behind Coyote and faked grabbing the ball. In the blink of an eye, Ghost took the football instead and sprang forward, taking advantage of the gap she'd noticed earlier and bursting through it. Hangman chased after her, keeping Payback and Rooster at bay from gaining on Ghost as she cruised into the endzone. Hondo blew the whistle, alerting the teams to the swift touchdown.

"Now that's how you start off a game!" Coyote shouted, throwing his hands up proudly into the air. Ghost chucked the ball back toward him in a perfect spiral before jogging back to her team. On the way there, Rooster asked, "Where the hell did you learn how to play and throw like that?"

Taking one out of Jake's playbook, she said, "Old acquaintance."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rooster's head turn toward Hangman, but thankfully, the aviator didn't prod. 

With the element of surprise gone for Ghost and eyes now trained on her after that touchdown, she never got another good chance to run the ball through like that. They switched up tactics to throwing the ball mostly. Ghost had fun tackling people, including an impressive takedown of Rooster before he hit the endzone. Hangman lifted his hand to high-five her for it, and not wanting to cause any scene, she returned it, albeit with a hard slap that left her hand stinging. 

Right before the game ended, Hangman scored a touchdown and made it known to the world, celebrating in a way Ghost could only describe as "hulking out." Every muscle popped out in definition in the process, and Ghost couldn't help but ogle. She hated how good he looked right now.

The Daggers retired to the picnic table where Penny sat. Juliette stood a little ways away, playing fetch with the dogs. Rooster jogged up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and gently lifting her belly. Ghost saw Juliette visibly relax and sink against him, closing her eyes in relief while he lifted the weight strain off her back that her growing belly caused. The couple waited for Raptor and Lightning to run back to them before they joined the group. Hangman gave up his seat for Juliette, who gladly accepted it.

"I'm grabbing drinks. Who wants what?" Coyote asked, pulling out his phone and pretending to take orders like a waiter. "Got it. I'll be right back."

"I'll help," Ghost offered, deciding a reprieve from the beating sun would be welcome. 

"I'll join. Don't think you two have enough hands to carry the drinks for everyone," Hangman said, strutting over to her.

"Coyote has big hands, so I think we're fine."

"Appreciate it," Coyote remarked, winking appreciatively at her innuendo. She grabbed her phone from her bag and followed him into the Hard Deck, Hangman on her heels. The trio went behind the bar and started grabbing the drinks, although none of them could find the lemonade Juliette requested.

"Might be in the back. I'll go check," Coyote said. He swiftly disappeared to the back room before either Hangman or Ghost could argue.

"That was subtle," Hangman remarked, shooting Ghost an amused grin, which she ignored. She wanted to get away from Jake Seresin as quickly as possible before she gave in to the temptation to talk to him. If Ghost did, all the pent-up anger, and more importantly, the pent-up betrayal and hurt, risked boiling over. She intended to have fun today, and fighting with him would spoil that plan. Of course, Hangman was never one to back down, and he sighed at her silence. "Still not talking to me?"

"No," she replied shortly.

"You just did."

"Shut up."

"Annie-"

"Don't call me that," Ghost snapped defensively, heart-wrenching at the affectionate nickname she'd only ever allowed him to call her. It'd been so long since she'd heard it, and it made the nostalgia of their relationship burst into her mind, threatening to make her throw caution to the wind and cause her to forgive him for everything. Ghost quickly reminded herself that if she let him in again, he'd only hurt her again, sooner or later.

"Annalise, I know now's not the time to talk-"

"At least we can agree on something."

"-but I do want to. It's been almost six years. Surely-" he stopped short, pausing for a moment- "Why is Kyle Peterson calling you?"

Ghost groaned inwardly, forgetting she'd placed her phone on the counter in full view for anyone to see incoming calls or texts. "Not that it's any of your business, but he's an ex. Of sorts."

"You- you dated Kyle Peterson?" Hangman demanded, miffed. "Do I need to remind you what a dickhead he was to us-"

"No, you don't," Ghost interrupted shortly, standing with beer bottles in hand and staring him down. "He was an asshole in high school. Most teenagers are, but I know he was worse because he was friends with Nick."

"Yeah, so what possessed you to date him?" 

"I ran into him at the store when I returned to Texas a month ago, and he started chatting to me. He doesn't hang out with Nick anymore, and he apologized for being such a dick to us in high school. He acted like he changed, so I accepted the date when he asked me out. It went on for about a month before I realized he hadn't changed at all and dumped him. He's not taking it well and has been calling me non-stop to try and win me over. I'm ignoring him. That's all. The only reason I still have his number in my phone is to know when he's calling so I can ignore him."

Hangman glowered at Ghost, although whether it was directed at her or at Kyle, she couldn't quite tell. The buzzing of the phone had stopped, but a few seconds later, it started back up again. "Do you want me to stop him for you?"

"No, it's fine. He'll get the message sooner or later. Besides, I don't want to owe you any favors."

Hangman's narrowed eyes darted to the phone. "Then do me a favor and let me handle him."

"No. I don't want you owing me any favors either."

"Don't be stubborn-"

"I'm not. I don't want you getting involved and aggravating the situation. Sometimes silence is the best solution."

Hangman chuckled humorlessly. "You'd know all about silence."

"You're one to talk," Ghost retorted, setting the beer bottles down to swipe her phone off the counter. "You know, I said I didn't want to talk to you and look what's happened: I talked to you, and now I'm in a bad mood. This is exactly what I knew would happen."

"I don't want to fight with you, Ghost," Hangman said softly, his green eyes startlingly vulnerable. "I just-"

"I found it!" Coyote declared victoriously, lifting a glass bottle of lemonade. His cheerfulness faded when he saw the expressions of his friends. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Only the conversation you'd expect for leaving us alone," Ghost responded, grabbing the beer bottles. "I'll see you outside."

Going against every nerve in her body screaming at her to abort the mission and escape the get-together with the Daggers, she wouldn't go yet. She wanted to hang out with Juliette and Rooster some more before heading home. It'd been too long since she'd seen her friends, and no one would come between that. Besides, what's the worst that could happen if she stayed?

****

Tags: @lgg5989 @shanimallina87 @polikszena @summ3rlotus @icemansgirl1999 @supernaturaldawning @thedarkinmansfield @lyannaforpresident @lapilark @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @simpofthecentury @shadeops21 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @double-j @bradshawsandbridgetons @catsandgeekyandnerd @peachiicherries @multifandomcnova @fandomsstolemylife00 @bookloverhorses @mak-32 @midnightmagpiemama @luckyladycreator2 @ellamae021 @genius2050

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8

If you're not on the tag list and want to be, just let me know :)

[mosraev]

Lyrics through the decade 3/10

I've decided to collect all the songs I've made through the last decade and share my favourite snippets with you guys. The pictures for the backgrounds will (as much as possible) be pictures I've taken the same year as the lyrics were written. The full lyrics may or may not be made official someday.

Part 3; 2015

Being the first full year I had been writing songs and the year I took one semester on what I now call my summer camp, this was a very productive year for songs. Well, it was a productive year for lyrics, I actually did only finish half of the songs I started. My lyrics became a little less angry overall and focused more on storytelling.

More info under the line

Stay creative, my fellow foxes 🦊💚

Song 1 (pic1); Pyriphlegeton.

A song named after the greek myth of the flood of fire in the underworld keeping the tormented standing so they can endure more pain, this is a song where I've taken the perspective of a woman with an undefined mental illness. Some lines however can be read through a trans lens. Fun fact: I rapped the verses on this. No I am not kidding (also I am not a rapper)

Featured lyrics:

Heartache! Her ribcage's a cage of a prison.

She's searching so hard for the brick life's missing.

Honorable mention;

She blames herself for going insane.

When all that she need is a shoulder to cry on,

Instead she chokes on water from Pyriphlegethon.

Song 2 (pic2); Icebirds

This is a fun one in that I made it as a sort of theme song for a novel length story I was writing about a boy that lived in a world where people got their mind wiped in they stepped out of line (or what he later learn is actually a brainfog repressing your memories and identity). So while the lyrics could be taken as a queer metaphor in context it is more litteral. I didn't finish either the story or the song however.

Featured lyric:

Out of the fog, clear reality to face.

How much of myself have ignorance erased?

Song 3 (pic3); Tidal Wave/Party Wave

One of the few times that I tried to write a party song. This was strange since I wrote as a typical Dane that drinks and loves parties (which I don't) but I do love this line a lot

Featured lyric:

The floor's alive with every beat.

We're the beating heart's arteries.

Song 4 (pic4); the Rabbit and the Turtle

One of the few songs with no real perspective character, instead it is about the passing of time and the ambivalent feeling I have about time in general.

Featured lyric:

today's struggles are in tomorrow's past.

Song 5 (pic5); Shout Out

A song I wrote as a tribute to the friends I've gotten in the three years of highschool (although some of the experiences mentioned go back to middleschool). One of the earlier examples of me using my own experiences in a song.

Featured lyric:

Where everyday it's a chapter, at dawn begins a new [chapter].

Song 6 (pic6); Fair Little Muse

In this song I take the perspective of a lover feeling something is wrong with their partner but not knowing what or how to communicate their worry. It is very flowery/artsy which is fitting since the muse part is inspired by the muses of greek mythology.

Featured lyric:

((Extended)) Your thoughts are roses, wild in bloom.

Are they midnight black or are they twilight blue?

While roses they wither, evergreen remains.

And snowdrops bear promises of better days.

Song 7 (pic7); Mirror on the Wall v. 2

This is a special case since it is a song that actually have two versions; one was very personal and read like a diary (version 1) and then there's one taking the perspective of a girl and a boy both having body image issues thereby depersonalising the story (version 2). And yet this line is so raw and trans coded that I cannot help but love it. I never finished this song.

Featured lyric:

Mirror on the wall, hear it smash against the floor.

I feel so wasted [and] lost in my own skin.

((Extended)) [in] this body I'm living in.

Song 8 (pic8); Mixtape

I had an idea of writing a song about two people sharing memories through their dedication to music (possibly because I was at a music camp around this time). I never finished the song but I like this first part.

Featured lyric:

I’ve made you a mixtape to soundtrack your wasted youth.

All your favorite songs are on it 'cause they’re mine too.