#it actually like tripled through that grinding so it’s not even that bad okay

[electric-plants]

after all that bad luck i decided to do a bunch of grinding as one last ditch effort to get kuki’s last two constellations and this banner FINALLY decided to have mercy on me please bask in my c6 kuki godbless

[ncitygirls]

dance - jeno x f reader

fluff, smut, 2.1k

jeno knows it’s bad, but he can’t help but reminisce on how this all began. he likes to torture himself by reliving the first night over and over. it always starts with the drunken taunts from his teammates, sullied further by his dismissal. ‘no way,’ he’d said. ‘i can’t go there.’ he remembers seeing your roommates hyping you up, followed closely by your misguided steps. even after his earlier reluctance, he still regrets not beating you to the jump, his friends’ clearing their throats, trying to act natural as you approached their booth.

he hated the setting: a grotty sports bar a town over from his college campus. it sold stale, cheap beer, triple vodka sours and served well past three am. this may not sound like the typical start to a love story, but it was a start all the same.

‘do you wanna dance?’ you asked in a painfully small voice, your emboldened strut paling in complete contrast to your timid yet gleaming gaze. jeno still can’t say where he found the courage to agree, but agree he did, nodding behind his beer before following you up to the sticky floor. somewhere along the way you had taken his hand in yours, in fear of losing him in the sea of sweaty bodies. in the musty wave of noughties hits with tacky modern spins, jeno managed to lose himself anyway. he hadn’t a clue where to put his hands, his eyes searching yours as you giggled up at him, cooing at his bewilderment.

so you led. placing his hand on your exposed waist, your top riding up as it hugged the skin beneath your rib. he felt you shiver under his touch, his fingers clenching minutely at the feeling. ‘is this okay?’ he’d yelled, though it came through as more of a whisper under the music. you didn’t respond, instead reaching for his other hand, squeezing it over the denim on your hip. jeno was spinning. not from dancing, and not from the amount he’d drank. he knew it wasn’t down to that, nor the dizzying motion of the lights, the thickness of the air or the pounding of the music. jeno knew it was you. your chest pressed flush to his, your eyes boring into his. he didn’t know when you’d started swaying, his body leaning, moving in time with the music and the others on the floor. he could hear the songs changing, feel the bass beneath his feet. there wasn’t much he could do but enjoy it.

much like he still does. as he drags you close to him, the rosie organza pleated around your chest pressed right up to his satin lapel. his confidence then pales in comparison to now. it only took a few months to see the change, one you nurtured in all the ways a man like jeno needed. in soft assurances and gentle praise. in delicate touches and the softest embraces. in ardent exchanges and steamy quickies.

but the trouble began this past winter. well, technically well before. as a child, jeno had spent his summers visiting his cousin jaemin in his hometown from before he could remember. there the two had fortified a friendship, a real brotherhood that jeno never would have gotten to experience without being cast away to the country every solstice. it was there he met his cousin’s neighbour, mark lee. mark lee, a kind kid with wide eyes and a wider smile, was the kind of kid everyone looked up to. he embodied what jeno typically thought to be an older brother. and he was. to his step sister and cousins, to kids in his neighbourhood, to jeno’s cousin jaemin and eventually to jeno. it’s why, this christmas just gone, when mark had approached jeno, with giddy eyes and a giddier smile, to ask him to be one of his groomsmen - not just due to the refusal of a painfully introverted jaemin - but because of a genuine brotherhood formed between the two, jeno’s big hearted self could not refuse.. bringing us back to where the trouble began.

‘so, are you bringing her to the wedding?’ mark questioned suddenly, his arm pushing through the sleeve of his tux. ‘you definitely shou- it’s a bit tight at the elbow, can you see?’

jeno still curses jaemin for opting out of being a groomsman, leaving jeno to deal with the trivialities of wedding prep. not that he has a real problem with it all. it’s just a fitting, he thought as he walked in, his eyes landing on the black silk hanging off the changing room door. it wasn’t until he realised it was just he and mark - the rest of the groomsmen opting to come on a later date - that he was regretting the decision. because even though no one would admit it to his face, mark was a bit of a groomzilla. less for the usual reasons. he wasn’t rude, short or angered by little inconveniences. he was just a man of superstition, faith, and insurmountable dubiety. he wanted everything to be perfect. he wanted to do as much of his part as he could for his wedding day. jeno thinks his fiancée had been right to leave him the task of the guest list. mark easily knew more people, so was naturally inundated with acquaintances. it was a great idea, jeno thought.. until mark kept- on- pushing- ‘i’ll even relieve you of your duties early, let you go off with her-’

‘thanks man,’ the younger tried, watching the tailor pinch the jacket at his waist. ‘but really, i don’t think i will. i’ll just bring my mom or something.’

‘your mom’s already invited man, you know that.’ jeno huffed at that. of course she is. mark did take his duties seriously after all. ‘couldn’t have her going off on me like jaemin did-’

‘are you comparing my mom to jaemin?’

‘i’m just saying-’ mark paused to thank the attendant, slipping back out of his jacket as he walked up to jeno, squeezing his shoulder. ‘you’ve got nothing to be nervous about, jen. you’re like a brother to me. you should bring her, i’d love to meet her.’

jeno flinches just thinking about it, his spine straightening as mark turned to him fully. jeno manages a shrug, turning back to the mirror just for a second before deciding that, no. no, it wouldn’t be a good idea to introduce his girl to his best friend on his wedding day.

because the issue wasn’t that he wouldn’t invite you.

‘you met her at college, right?’

the issue was that he couldn’t.

‘maybe y/n knows her?’

the issue is that you’re already going.

‘you know what my sister’s like, she gets on with everyone.’

“jen?” you pant, his name falling off your tongue as he bounces you quickly in his lap. “come back to me.” he smiles at your sweet call, your teeth catching his lip between them before slipping your tongue into his mouth.

the ceremony starts in ten minutes, though guests are still pouring into the church. it’s what actually convinced him. that and you, your manicured hand stuffing your damp panties into the pocket of his fitted tux. it had been his undoing, your sweeping frame gliding into a small side door a few feet from the altar.

the clock is ticking but you pay it no mind, your hips halting their rise and fall as you dig your heels into the masoned floor, grinding your hips back and forth as you ride him. you feel his nails dig painfully into your skin, his tongue wrapping around yours, swallowing your gasps as his other hand gathers your dress, the layers of delicate organza billowing over his knee. when your nails find his nape, careful not to mess up his perfectly styled do, you suck on his ear lobe, forcing him to thrust up into you.

“fuck-”

“shh!” you hiss, rushing to stuff the same panties you gifted him in his mouth. you hear his muffled groans, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks the essence of you onto his waiting tongue. he feels you clench harder around him, his eyes smiling in place of his occupied lips. he lifts a brow when your rocking falters, your eyes darting around his perfect face, incapable of taking in anything but him and how he makes you feel. there’s a question in his gaze, forcing your head to bob. “yeah- i’m close-”

he abandons your dress then, letting the material pool around you two as he presses his palm to your neck, bringing your mouth to his. it’s a quick and steep descent to your release, your thighs burning as he slams you up and down on his cock, your skin clapping against his as he abandons all reason. he’s kept it quiet for so long, at times he thinks it might consume him from the inside out, all this love he has for you. all jeno really wants is to scream it out from the highest mountain top, tattoo it to his forehead, paint it on the fucking moon. hell, he would pay anyone to listen. he didn’t care who. he’d tell anyone who’d listen that he, lee jeno, was in love with y/n y/l/n.

“i love you too,” you almost cry, jaw unhinged as you feel the effects of his thrusts and affection rip through you. it spreads through you like wildfire, setting every nerve in you alight before it finally consumes him. your heat pumps and pushes him past his release, his heavy load pouring out into you. you milk him through it, your temple pressed to the crown of his head.

it’s the church bells that rip you apart, your whole body cringing as realisation hits. you cringe further as his flushed face fills your vision, his hands gathering your dress again before further staining your panties as he wipes between your legs. “don’t look at me like that.”

“like what?”

“like it’s worse for you than it is for me.” you’re about to ask how when he moves away from you, closing his eyes as he wraps it up before shoving it back in his pocket. “i said don’t.”

“fine, i won’t-” your surrender is cut short when knuckles strike the door three times, jaemin’s sign to wrap it up. “shit, let’s go-” you try to leave but can’t. because suddenly he’s stopping you, his warm hand loosely wrapped around your wrist.

“let’s tell him.”

“tell who what-”

“mark.” jeno used to hate acknowledging the striking similarities between you and your step brother. much like the unwon battle of the chicken and the egg: which came first? which of you taught the other that when your eyes enlarge, rounding into porcelain saucers, two full moons nearly eclipsing him, that he’d give you anything?

“today?” when he nods, you want to laugh. but he looks so confident. so sure. “jen, are you sure?”

“i am,” his affirmation makes your heart swell, even before he continues. “i’m sure about you.”

he knows where your uncertainties lie. but you affirm it too. “i’m sure about you too.” you both seem to forget the wedding in that moment, both neglecting the importance of your bridal party roles in favour of basking in one another for even a second longer. “only if you save me a dance?”

“always.” so much so, you don’t register the sound of the confessional door swinging open when jeno leans in to kiss to your forehead, his bitten lips pressing to the skin as his eyes land on a pair not too dissimilar to the ones he’d just poured his heart out to.

mark seems to short circuit for a second that seems to last hours. “mom’s looking for you,” he announces, spluttering around the words as you immediately grab jeno by the hand and drag him out the confessional. you both duck your heads as you shuffle past jaemin, who looks beyond pissed you didn’t heed his earlier warning.

when you both disappear, your brother turns on jaemin, eyes wide as full moons. “you knew!” it only angers him more when jaemin nods, unflinching when mark starts slapping his arm. “he told you and you didn’t tell me?”

“nuh-uh,” the younger defends, straightening out the groom’s lapel as he reverently shuts the confessional door. “i figured it out.” mark looks bewildered at the notion it had been so obvious. jaemin has to remind himself it’s mark’s day and not to be too harsh. “come on, hyung. he wouldn’t tell us her name, wouldn’t let us meet her.” mark still looks stunned. “don’t get me started on how many times they pulled this shit last christmas-”

and to think. it all started with a dance.

[dylexicspaceotter-blog]

Season of the Haunted Retrospective

The season of the haunted has ended, and I wanted to give my thoughts on it before we enter the age of Arc 3.0. This was my first season change since I started playing Destiny 2 again, and I have to say that I felt it was a little bit overhyped. I know this isn't exactly the hottest take in the world; however, the season felt like a fruitless grind. Starting with the seasonal armor set, which in my opinion, was just mediocre at best, and I felt that it wasn't worth the hours to get. I get that Bungie was going for the black metal aesthetic, which some people like. However, I feel that the execution felt haphazard at best the warlock armor, for instance, just seemed like the stereotypical metal look and nothing deeper or nuances to it. Growing up (and still to this day), I loved alternative culture and aesthetics, so when I heard that Bungie was making the seasonal armor inspired by the metal aesthetic, I thought that would be really cool, and then I saw it. I really liked it. I waited till the last minute and saw it in the game to decide my opinions on it.

I just can not bring myself to like it. The design feels forced as hell and like it does not pay respect to the culture it's pulling from, Moving on to the seasonal activity, the nightmare contaminants emphasize the nightmare. I had to, like everyone else, complete this an ungodly amount of times and kill the same bosses probably 90ish times. I couldn't be bothered to complete the seasonal challenge for doing it one hundred and fifty times. Frankly, I found the activity repetitive as hell; I had to halt my seasonal story progress several times because I could not bring myself to run through the containment activity two or three more times. I not only had to halt my in-game progress but there were times when I stopped playing together. I could not stand running through what felt like the longest battle arena I have ever taken part in. The only thing that made it bearable was my gaming buddy and the promise of some loot. The loot was okay at best, but it led to more grinding to get it to the optimal rolls and stats. The weapons had some exciting perks. I was a fan f the incandescent perk; in theory, it's really cool, but my class couldn't quite do much with it; but more on that later. The weapons were an absolute hell of their own class to track down, and if you were trying to craft them, you would need each of them five times with a specific trait. This process could take minutes, hours, or days because all the weapons would be gained from a random loot box; the loot box would give you a key to another random loot box that might give you the gun you were looking for.  Then there was solar 3.0, which was a mess for warlocks; frankly, it turned them into half-ass support and middle-tier healers. I hope we will see more aspects that can round off the classes play style. Either heavier into healing or damage and support. Warlocks can make some use of the new debuff, but it was so half-assed compared to how well they could use the devour debuff. In the season of the witch queen, having a strong devour build as a warlock could carry you through the entire season, and some low to middle-rank PVP encounters, actually running gambit with devour was amazing in gambit matches during witch queen, vi genuinely still run my void build as much as I can because of how strong it is once I  proc devour. And I wish I could say the same thing about ignite, but it's just not there for the warlock class, in my opinion. I have to say that the season's highlight was the solstice even, and I regret not playing it more to get the triple one hundred armor pieces, but what can you do? I'll have to grab it next year. While the solstice was grindy,  it wasn't as bad as the containment event. I feel it was because it was a match-made event instead of a public-instanced event. So hypothetically, you could grab a group of friends and just burn through them and plan and strategize effectively to maximize your and your team's success. Still, it could be a highly engaging experience for everyone involved. Switching from the challenge to the event card model was a welcomed change to how they handle event quests. The three weeks that the solstice was live were probably the most fun I had in the entire season. While some fans say that solar 3.0 will go down in history as better than it was once we get some more solar aspects, of course, that is so far in the future that I can not begin to predict how that will play out.

[mikasaluna]

a certain scientific railgun smut hcs

⚠ WARNINGS：nsfw ! smut !

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED IMMEDIATELY

「 Keep in mind your triggers and do not engage if it will provoke negative emotions. You are responsible for your own actions. 」

♥️

notes：gender neutral pronouns, AFAB character, fluff, adult characters, set after graduation

A Certain Scientific Railgun /とある科学の 超電磁砲

Accelerator　アクセレレーター

- needs to be in control at all times

- he’s not gonna let you on top so don’t even ask

- baby boy just wants to make you feel good <3 

- not that he will ever admit that to you

- holds you roughly by the hips and grinds you down on his thigh while you’re making out

- loves watching you being pleasured, and hearing your sweet moans

- “what a desperate little slut, getting off just from my thigh like that”

- the little shit immediately pushes you back onto the bed just as you’re about to finish, leaving you wriggling and whining beneath him

- his soft white hair tickles your stomach as he pushes his face between your thighs 

- really, really good with his tongue

- you were already so close, cumming embarrasingly fast as he sucks harshly on your clit

- rubs your sides mindlessly as he settles himself back on top of you, inspecting your already fucked out face

- you can feel his hard bulge through his pants pressed against your naked, wet cunt

- is super blunt about it

- “let me fuck you”

- “of course you’re letting me you filthy fucking whore”

- “I bet you love having your stupid slut cunt filled up, huh?”

- starts gentle and deep

- but soon enough he will flip you over and pound you into the matress like you’re his own personal little fuck doll

- when he’s about to finish he will push his face into the crook of your neck where you can hear his breathing falter, and feel his hot breath in your ear

- ...he bites

- you have to stop him after the third round, worried you wouldn’t be able to walk the next morning

- plot twist: you couldn’t walk for the next two days

Kongou Mitsuko 婚后光子

- will try her best to act confident and self assured

- but quickly becomes a stuttering, blushing mess

- doesn’t mind showing off her body to you, she just wants to turn you on as much as you do to her

- asks you to please give her hickeys; on her neck, collarbone, breasts, and especially the insides of her thighs

- maybe give her a hickey on her clit too

- attempts to deny it, but she loves when you top her, and maybe even when you’re a little rough too

- “me, kongou mitsuko!? of course i am not a sub or anything...”

- it’s pretty obvious that isn’t true once you’re finger fucking her into the bed while she’s moaning and babbling out incomprehensible strings of words

- if she gets too loud you might have to be a bit more forceful and put your hand around her throat, but somehow this only makes her louder??

- “please, more there~”

- “h-harder, faster, please don’t stop”

- when you smack her thigh as a warning, you can hear her bite back a moan

- she won’t stop wriggling so you have to hold her thighs tightly, while you put your face between her legs

- the way her face scrunches up as you flick your tongue on her clit is absolutely adorable

- poor baby’s words get all scrambled until all she can do is pant and moan at how good you’re making her feel

- her legs start shaking when she comes undone on your tongue, wrapping her thighs around your head and grinding up into your face

- which she immediately regrets

- “I-I’m sorry for cumming before you said it’s okay”

- “I know I’ve been a bad girl”

- as her punishment, you sit on her face and make her eat you out :)

- she tries her best to make it up to you, holding her tongue out for you to use

- part of you thinks she enjoys this even more than you do

- the way her tongue rubs against your clit has you rocking your hips desperately into her face

- when your breathing starts to falter she will pump her digits into your sopping wet pussy to help you along

- which ends in you creaming all over her fingers

Kamijou Touma 上条当麻

- very honest

- generally likes to start slow and let you take lead

- but sometimes if he’s really needy, he will come lie on top of you when you’re on your stomach, kissing your shoulders gently

- you know what he wants straight away, his bulge pressed into the back of your bare thighs though plain grey sweatpants

- you push him back against the headboard, climbing onto his lap to straddle his waist

- he grabs your hips, kissing you and roughly grinding up into you while pulling off your shirt

- soon he pulls of your panties too, your messy cunt drooling all over the fabric of his sweatpants, making a visible wet patch on the grey fabric

- “so you’ve been waiting all day for this too, huh?”

- he rubs your clit gently as you sink down on his member, your walls fluttering around his cock at the stretch

- having you on top of him and watching your face as he rubs tight circles around your clit turns him on more than anything

- he’d let you ride him all night

- as much as you want to, by the time he’s about to cum your thighs are sore and your core is throbbing

- since you’re too tired he’ll grab your hips and help you along

- mumbles out praise as he finishes, still bouncing you on his lap

- “you look so perfect like this”

- the king of aftercare, always makes sure you’re okay and gets you whatever you need

- he will cook for you, bring you a warm towel, run you a bath

- ...which sometimes leads to round two

- always checking that he did good and that you’re satisfyed

- if not, he will gladly go down on you, or make you cum around his fingers until you can’t form proper sentences anymore

- he secretly hopes you’re not satisfied yet

- gives you one of his shirts to wear after <3

Mikasa Mikoto 御坂美琴

- tsundere, so tsundere

- “i-idiot, don’t touch me there...”

- “wait! no... actually, p-please don’t stop”

- blushes at every little touch you give her

- hickeys make her melt under your touch, especially on her neck

- and in return you get to hear all the cute moans and noises she makes <3

- at first she gets super shy about letting you see her body, so you only take off her shorts and panties

- before holding her against the wall and putting your face up her skirt :)

- you can feel her legs get shakey as you suck gently on her clit, so you make sure to hold her up well

- when she’s close she will grab your hair roughly and squeeze your head between her thighs while stuttering out apologises to you

- one time you even made her come so hard with your tongue that she shocked you with her electricity a bit

- but now she only uses her electricity whenever your vibrator runs out of charge, or occasionally on your clit if you ask her nicely

- kiss her and tell her how good she did for you

- while you’re on top of her distracted by her lips, she will slip her hand into your panties and finger you

- the way she works her hands on you is absolutely sinful, it’s obvious that she must practice on herself

- won’t let you pull away to catch your breath, because she’s embarrased of how red her face gets

- it helps her to get more comfortable knowing that she can return the favor for you though

- once she relaxes a bit, holding her on your lap and using your vibrator on her is like a sight from heaven

- you wrap your arms around her body and alternate between grabbing at her soft breasts with your free hand, and curling your fingers into her velvety walls

- the way that her eyes begin to water as she bites into her lip to stop herself from moaning is truly to die for

- naturally, you squish her cheeks and make sure she lets every last whimper and moan out of that pretty mouth of her’s

- “w-wait... but I -ah, can’t keep my voice down”

- it’s okay, that’s exactly what you wanted <3

Sogiita Gunha 削板軍覇

- actually really sweet

- very enthusiastic

- he thinks you’re the most beautiful and precious person in the whole world and will absolutely make sure you know that

- mans will finger fuck the insecurity out of your body if you even think about being shy around him

- his number one goal is to make you feel as good as possible

- always asking for your consent before anything

- “please can I kiss you pretty baby?”

- “please can you sit on my lap?”

- “please can you sit on my face?”

- feeds off of your moans when he’s pleasuring you

- the louder you are, the harder and faster he’ll go

- whatever he lacks in experience, he makes up for with enthusiasm and stamina

- so much praise

- “you sound so pretty baby doll”

- loves when you scratch his back, or when you tell him how good he’s doing

- sometimes doesn’t realise when you’ve come so he accidentally overstims you

- lets you start on top so you can adjust to his size

- but always gets too excited and starts to bounce you up and down on his cock himself like you’re a stupid little fuck toy

- he’ll probably be moaning even louder than you are

- triple checks that you’re comfy before he grabs you by the ass, lifts you up and fucks you against the wall

- wants to pound you against everything; the couch, the bed, the kitchen counter, the window... you name it, he’ll do it

- lasts for so damn long without ever getting tired

- he can make you come at least three times in one round

- the angle of his pelvic bone hitting against your clit with every thrust doesn’t help that matter

- or his cock hammering repeatedly against your g spot

- when he is finally about to finish, he will hold onto your flesh hard enough to leave bruises, pushing himself as deeply inside of you as humanly possible until you can feel the tip of his cock hitting your cervix

- if you let him, he will breed you and stuff you full of his cum

Shirai Kuroko 白井黒子

(A/N: the characters in ‘Kuroko’ directly translates to “black child” and it always makes me laugh whenever Mikasa is like “KUROKOOOOOO” cause literally no one would call their kid that in English)

- takes no shit, A+ brat tamer

- dresses up in the skimpiest little lingere sets she knows you love, and watches you get all flustered 

- things can go one of two ways:

- one, you act like her obedient little fuck whore and do everything she says

- two, she teases you for hours then makes you watch as she rides your thigh without ever letting you cum

- kuroko has so many toys... but don’t worry, she loves to share with you

- first she orders you to make yourself cum in front of her, observing how you work your fingers against your clit and blush in embarrasment at her gaze

- soon enough though she won’t be able to help herself anymore, perching herself on top of you so her ass is wiggling just above your face, your wet cunt in her full view

- presses her tongue flat against your clit and laps you up like it’s her last meal

- your moans make her go absolutely feral, even more so when you’re pushing your tongue between her folds

- the vibrations from her panting and moaning around your clit, and the view of her pretty pussy right in your face is almost too much for you

- especially when she is going down on you so well like that

- pumping one finger experimentally into her messy cunt, followed by a second, you continue to lick at her clit

- watching you play with your pussy really made her soaked huh

- as much as you want her to cream all over your fingers and cum on your face, she is insistent on making sure you finish first

- she gets off to you is just a giver like that <3

- puts you into the wildest positions and fucks you with a double sided dildo, a hitachi wand held on your clit

- very vocal, loves teasing you while her free hand is wrapped tightly around your throat

- “come on baby, use your words, tell me how much you like it”

- she’ll coo at you innocently, knowing damn well you couldn’t speak if you wanted to

- “i guess you don’t like this... i’ll just have to stop then, what a shame”

- you better believe she’s not gonna continue fucking you until you’re sobbing and begging for her to keep going

- of course that is exactly what she wants, to turn you into a submissive slut all for her own personal use <3

[samingtonwilson]

Apartment 8C - Chapter 1

Telling the Kids About Your Separation

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: college au. you and bucky are the closest of friends, the most functional of roommates, and… exes. but just because it didn’t work out romantically doesn’t mean he has to move out! it’s not like he’s so deeply in love that he can barely breathe. totally not in love. at all. not even a little. maybe. 

Pairing: bucky x reader

Warnings: language

A/N: SHE’S BACK, LADIES. the only tag list i’m using is the permanent one, nothing specifically for this series sorry!

“You guys said it wouldn’t last…” 

Natasha looks between the two of you. Steve’s beer is at his lips but he doesn’t take a sip. Wanda’s fingers pause in the bowl of popcorn she’s placed in her lap. Only Sam has a visibly emotional reaction. 

He’s on the verge of bursting— maybe in frustration as the two of you are blocking the television, maybe in laughter. 

It doesn’t help that you’ve hidden your hands behind your back. Nor does it help that you and Bucky are both grinning like giddy idiots while you stare at your friends who now sit with pin-straight postures on the sectional in your living room.

“And you were right!” you shout once several awkward beats have passed. 

There is a loud POP! when you bring your hands forward to twist the bottom of a party popper, iridescent confetti falling over the coffee table and tangling itself in Natasha’s hair, and a triple air horn sound effect cuts through the silence when Bucky opens the app on his phone. 

The two of you are laughing and high-fiving one another, but the four before you continue staring. 

That is, until longsuffering Sam— fingers pressed into his temples— speaks. “You called us over here to tell us you broke up?” 

Bucky shrugs and takes the empty party popper from you. He turns it over and shakes it, disappointed when more confetti doesn’t fall out. After all, he’d purchased the ones from Target just for the extra confetti. “We have consciously uncoupled.”

“That term refers to divorce,” Wanda says as she picks the confetti out of the popcorn and lets it fall to the floor. When she looks up, her expression is equal parts exasperation and amusement. “And, as far as I know, you two were never married.” 

Natasha, fingers combing through her hair, frowns. “I actually forgot you were even dating.”

“Yeah, so did she,” Bucky says as he jabs his elbow into your ribs with a snort. “We didn’t want you guys finding out from somewhere else.” 

“Like where?” Sam asks. He scoots over to let you sit beside him, eyes narrowed at Bucky who falls into his usual spot— the worn barcalounger you’d begged him not to bring when he moved in. “You think they’d send out a campus-wide alert that you two broke up? Or that E! News would be reporting it after they talk about whichever Kardashian is having another baby?” 

That steals Wanda’s attention from the popcorn bowl. “Speaking of, how is one of them always pregnant?” 

There’s a fair amount of indistinct chatter to answer Wanda’s question, but it is all loudly interrupted with a simple: “Does this mean Bucky is moving out?” 

It seems that everyone turns to look at Steve simultaneously. Squeaks of leather as you all shift around, the click of a bowl being placed on the wooden table. 

He understands the question in all of your gazes, and shrugs with a sigh of defeat. “They’re probably just genetically very fertile— Kris has had, like, eighteen children herself. Now, does Bucky have to find a place?” 

Then all eyes slide to you. Your eyebrows furrow and your nose wrinkles. The absolute picture of disbelief. It has Bucky fighting a smile. “Why would he need to do that?” 

“Living with an ex is hard,” Sam replies. He sets his hand on yours and gives your fingers a light squeeze. It’s meant to be comforting, but it isn’t necessary. “It’d make sense if you couldn’t—”

“Bucky moved in a while before we started dating,” you tell them, each word said in an imploring tone. “He still has his bedroom, I still have mine. Besides, we didn’t break-up because we can’t stand being around each other.” 

“Then why did you break-up?” 

The inquiry is directed at Bucky, who everyone shifts to face. The piercing attention draws a light blush over the bridge of his nose and at the highpoints of his cheeks. You hold back a soft laugh. “We’re just better as friends. The romantic compatibility wasn’t there.” 

“Romantic compatibility, conscious uncoupling,” Natasha repeats with a surprised laugh. “Does this man have a Goop membership, or something?” 

Despite your own laughter, you nod at Bucky. “He’s right, though. It just— Something was missing.” 

As inarticulate as it is, it’s the truth. There was nothing wrong with your relationship, at least at first glance. You kissed each other hello— when you remembered— and you kissed each other goodbye— when you remembered. 

But you often forgot— you usually forgot. Which might be explanation enough as to why the two of you didn’t last. 

— 

“Was the sex bad?” 

You nearly choke on the sip of wine you’d taken. Glancing at the boys in the living room to confirm they were blissfully unaware of Wanda in the kitchen, you set your glass onto the counter and narrow your eyes at her. “You should increase your volume the next time you ask something like that.” 

“It couldn’t have been too bad,” Natasha says from the barstool beside Wanda’s, still frowning. She’d managed to remove every piece of confetti from her hair and it now sits in a small pile next to her glass. “You two weren’t exactly virgins when you met.” 

Your answering smile is sarcastic. “Hilarious. The sex wasn’t bad. He’s— He’s good at it.” 

“Yeah, that was convincing,” Natasha snorts into her glass as she takes a sip. “For his sake, I hope none of us let it slip that Barnes’ dick is trash.” 

“It isn’t trash! Okay.” You wiggle a finger at Wanda. “You. Imagine having sex with Steve.”

Her nose immediately wrinkles, her scowl instantaneous. “Understood. But then why date in the first place?” 

“Remember the night my ‘friends’ from high school were in the city?” 

The smile Natasha wore due to your finger quotes gives way to a deep grimace. “The night that girl with the bad bleach job pranced around here showing her ring off? I wish I could forget.” 

You nod. “All night, she kept telling me someone might be out there for me. That I probably won’t be too late, that some people end up alone and it’s okay. Like I’m tofu and she’s apple pie.” 

“You lost me with that one.”

“Like I’m an acquired taste and she’s universally appealing.” 

You smile when they laugh to themselves, but shake your head seconds later. “I don’t care if I end up alone. I’ll be fine either way. It’s just the insinuation that I’ll fail if I try to find someone. Like it’s prom all over again.” 

“D’you punch her teeth in? Can I punch her teeth in?”

You roll your eyes at Natasha. “I drank my weight in whatever bullshit wine she’s stupid enough to pay for, texted Bucky to pick me up, and fucked him on the couch to make myself feel better.” 

Her features twist in disgust. “The couch we all sit on?”

— 

While Sam yells at the television as if the New York Giants can hear his admonishments and advice, Steve sits back against the sofa cushions. His sigh is heavy and pointed, meant to draw attention, but it fails. 

So he places his feet on the coffee table. He crosses his legs at the ankle. And he glares. 

An unsuccessful moment later, he speaks. “I’m not gonna let you crash on my couch.” 

Unable to stop himself, Bucky smiles but otherwise focuses on the game. “That’s a fun psychic premonition. Do you read palms, too?” 

Steve attempts to look more threatening and narrows his eyes to slits. The blue is icy, menacing. 

However the elephant cushion he’s clutching to his chest? Not helping his cause. “So she dumped you because you’re a pain in the ass? Is that it?”

“She dumped me because I’m too good in bed and it was starting to become too much for her.” 

Sam pauses the game just to join Steve in looking at Bucky skeptically. 

He just rolls his eyes. “No one dumped anyone. We both decided we’re better as friends.” 

“S’usually a lie when people say that,” Steve remarks. He sticks his tongue out when Bucky narrows his eyes in offense. 

“It isn’t this time.” 

Sam, wearing a sly smile as he turns his attention back to the game, asks the next question: “Were there tears?” 

“She was stone cold.” Grinning as he holds his bottle of beer to his lips, he adds jokingly, “I cried like a baby, though.” 

Sam hums. “Not surprised. You fuckin’ sobbed at Inside Out.”

“Oh, so you didn’t cry when Bing Bong said ‘Take her to the moon for me’?” Bucky cocks an eyebrow. “What, are you a fuckin’ monster, Wilson?” 

The grinding of Steve’s teeth is almost audible, his irritation painfully evident when he tosses the cushion aside. 

Yet he still straightens it to make sure the elephant is sitting up straight, trunk pointed to the ceiling. 

“I’m being serious, Buck. Living with an ex... It’s touchy and awkward. How are you gonna feel when she’s got some guy over?” 

“The same way she’ll feel when I’ve got some girl over,” the answer is said with ease. “Hell, I’ll give her a condom if she needs one.” 

“And your feelings just turned themselves off?” 

His shrug is a bit reluctant, the smile he offers Steve hesitant. “Hers did.”

—

Hours pass before it’s just you and Bucky in the apartment. 

Natasha and Wanda leave first to get enough sleep before their eight-AM class, and Steve only manages to coax Sam off the couch once he has watched the game highlights and coverage twice over. You think you might scream if you ever hear the SportsCenter theme again.

Leaning against the door after it shuts behind Steve and Sam, you offer Bucky a sleepy smile as he rummages through the refrigerator. Judging by his sour expression, there’s nothing good to eat. “That was easier than I thought.” 

“Yeah, I’m real glad I read that ‘Telling the Children about the Divorce’ article for it.” He slams the fridge shut. There is desperation in his voice when he asks, “Are you hungry, too?” 

Dish rag tossed in his direction, you flip the faucet on to wet each glass. “When am I not hungry, Bucky?” 

“Are you more willing to pay for pizza or Thai?” 

“S’too late for Thai.” You set a washed glass atop the counter and get started on soaping up the next one. “We’ll get Thai when it’s your turn to pay.”

Three glasses sit on the counter before Bucky sets his phone down and begins drying them. He peers over at you with attempted tact.

But, to his dismay, you smile and meet his blue eyes with a playful glare. “What?” 

“Steve’s dead-set on me moving out.” 

Your frown is immediate. You stop scrubbing the popcorn bowl for a moment. “Do you want to move out?” 

His reply is instant. He stops drying a glass for a moment. “No. Do you want me to move out?” 

“No.” You resume scrubbing. “I can’t live here with anyone else.” 

Chewing on the inside of his cheek to avoid a grin, Bucky nods. He decides to change the subject and bumps his hip against yours. “Sam thought we were gonna tell everyone we got engaged.”

Startled laughter and you hand Bucky the washed bowl, switching the tap off and leaning your hip against the counter’s edge. “After, like, four months of dating? No wonder he looked so terrified.” 

“Should’ve played it off that way just to see what they’d say,” he muses as you help him put the dishes away. “Tasha would’ve hosted an intervention for you.” 

You hum in agreement. “Steve would’ve definitely called your mother.” 

“Would Wanda faint or is that too dramatic?” 

“She was ready to faint when I told her we had sex on the couch.” 

Eyebrows raised, he watches as you walk to the living room and fall into that exact couch with exaggerated relief. “You told her that?” 

Another hum. “Nat almost threw up.” 

“At the thought of us having sex in our own home?” he snorts, adding in a deadpan tone, “Oh, the horror.” 

Bucky collapses onto the couch beside you and smiles when you drop your head onto his shoulder. He toys with the stray pieces of confetti littered over the cushions. “Went all the way to Target for the more expensive poppers and they had even less confetti than the Party City ones.”

“Just because something costs more doesn’t mean it’s better.” 

He gasps playfully. “We have a genius in our midst. Someone please embroider everything she says onto pillows.” 

“Yeah and I’ll use those pillows to smother you in your sleep.” You lift your head and set your chin on his shoulder instead. You try to glare, but his smile is contagious. “I know where you live, Barnes.” 

“You won’t for long if Steve has it his way.” 

“If the world operated according to Steve’s wishes, we’d all be required, by law, to eat Pop-Tarts for breakfast and wear shirts two sizes too small.” 

--

CHAPTER 2: FINDING YOUR INDEPENDENCE 

[kisekinodrabbles]

helloo! i'd like to request something for the prompt game please :D kasamatsu + band!au + strangers to lovers + dialogue number 14 if that's okay? thanks, sam! and welcome back~

ofc!!! i tried to keep it shorter but im a bit rusty w my kasamatsu hehe hope u enjoy! wc: 2.3k

Kasamatsu admits that balancing his band and college work isn’t exactly an easy task. Between late evenings spent at gigs and all nights at the library, he is on the brink of his sanity, standing right at the tipping point. He yawns as he enters his nine am mandatory calculus class, another mistake made in his overconfidence that he would somehow be able to get his shit together.

You, on the other hand, are a closeted fan of his band, sitting three rows behind him in class. Every Tuesday and Thursday, you watch him drag his feet in and his hand lifting to his mouth in a yawn. Quickly, you duck behind your book as if Kasamatsu would ever give you the time of day. The brunette is well-known on campus with his successful group and good looks, not to mention he also dabbles a little in basketball while also maintaining a decent grade point average across all his classes. Triple threat, they call him.

When you first came into class and saw him there, shocked is an understatement. You’ve been following his band his high school from across the country. To see him in the flesh, so real and so human with his tired eyes, it almost feels like a dream. One you hope nobody would ever pinch you awake from. Thus, you made it your goal to be there before him every morning, which is a feat in itself. Kasamatsu may be grinding through the night and falling asleep in lectures, but he’ll be damned if he shows up late to class.

Throughout several weeks, you’ve seen girls come up to him left and right, shot down almost immediately by his intention to focus on the professor’s words. He lets them down easy and makes it clear that he pays thousands of dollars to study, not play IRL Tinder. This man gets sexier everyday.

You take your time packing your things when class is over, mainly because you’re too distracted watching Kasamatsu do the same. He is blind, or chooses to ignore, the whispers and shy glances thrown his way. Perhaps this is why you haven’t approached him yourself. You’re just one of his many admirers, a stroke in the massive painting of his life. Sighing, you pick up your pitiful self and make your way to the dining hall where you’re supposed to meet your friend for breakfast.

When the two of you settle on a table, you begin your weekly rambling about how beautiful Kasamatsu looks in the morning. Moriyama, being the good friend that he is, nods and listens intently.

Moriyama is an intriguing character. The two of you met because he had tried a line on you. In your perpetual state of flustered embarrassment, you had stupidly confessed to him: “Sorry, my heart belongs to Kasamatsu Yukio.”

In another twist of fate, he revealed that he had actually gone to high school with the guy and knew him pretty well.

“You know I can introduce you to him, right? No need for all this pining and drooling from three feet away.”

“It’s not the same,” you argue, “he’s practically a living legend on campus. I’m too intimidated to even breathe in the same air as him.” Your obsession has perhaps taken you too far, but if you expect to continue being his fan, the last thing you want is to scare him away.

“You’re so overdramatic,” Moriyama rolls his eyes. Coming from him, this sentence means a lot.

“What? It’s not my fault Kasamatsu’s so hot. He could bang me so hard backstage then pretend I don’t exist and I would still pay to watch his next show,” you groan, spooning yogurt into your mouth.

In that moment, several things happen. Moriyama’s eyes widen and fly behind you. Footsteps sounding at that same spot suddenly cease completely. You, realizing what possibly just happened, feel the heat flare up your cheeks.

Kasamatsu, in his sleep deprived state and probably completely delirious, had stopped in his tracks. His head whipped around to the source of the comment, finding Moriyama sitting with someone who looks distinctly familiar, but he can’t quite put his finger on it.

“Kasamatsu—”

Before Moriyama can even finish his sentence, Kasamatsu is already blurting out. “Okay, maybe I’m crazy but did I just hear you say that out loud?”

You want to crawl into your hole six feet underground and never see the light of day again. Ducking your head, you don’t even want to chance a glance up. The utter mortification is chewing away at your bones and you wish you could just evaporate into thin air.

Moriyama quickly interjects with a quick laugh, “Hear what? Also how have you been, man? I haven’t seen you in forever. Come join us for breakfast.”

Kasamatsu’s brows pucker. Maybe he really is going insane. And horny. Which is a very bad combination. Nevertheless, he slides into the empty seat next to Moriyama. He stares at you for a few seconds, squinting, before snapping his fingers. “Oh, I remember now. You’re in my calculus class.”

He knows you? “How do you know me?” you squeak, cursing your fangirl self for losing your voice. You never speak up in class, always choosing to come up to your professor for questions at the end of lecture. You’re quiet and tucked away behind him, so you never expected him to recognize you.

The smile he sends you is blinding. Even with shadows under his eyes, he still looks gorgeous. “You’re always first to arrive and last to leave. Figured you’re a hard worker in class and probably acing it.”

Your mouth dries. Kasamatsu noticed you. He actually noticed you. “Oh, um, I’m okay. I’m okay in class, I mean.”

“The question you should be asking is her name, Kasamatsu,” Moriyama scolds, smacking his back.

Kasamatsu pinks sheepishly. “Sorry, yeah. I’m Kasamatsu Yukio, by the way.”

Idiotically, you blurt out “I know” before your name. When you finally introduce yourself, you also clarify, “I’m a huge fan of Blue Devils. I mean, I’ve been following you guys since like high school. Absolutely love your music.”

The man actually reddens even further, but still he beams proudly. “Thank you! That’s crazy. Have you been to our shows?”

Almost all of them. “A couple, yeah.”

“We have one tonight in an actual venue. Are you coming?”

“Ah, it was sold out before I could get a ticket, actually.”

Kasamatsu blinks, “Oh, you’re more than welcome to come. I can get you a pass. Both of you—if Moriyama’s interested.”

“That would be amazing!” You grin, “Is there anything I can get you in return? I don’t want to just accept a gift from you for free.”

“Well, if you are good at calc, I wouldn’t mind some extra tutoring,” he suggests with a teasing grin.

Moriyama rolls his eyes, “Just ask her out instead of using tutoring as an excuse.” The two of you sputter, face colored a dark shade of red. You’ll kick his ass when you get the chance.

—

That one mistake turned out to be the greatest opportunity of your life. In addition to attending his show that night and meeting all of his bandmates, each one more good looking up close than then other, you manage to have weekly study sessions (you’re holding off on calling it dates) with Kasamatsu. The two of you take turns booking rooms at the library to cram, which mainly consists of you reexplaining concepts to the man. Although he isn’t a bad student, he’s also still struggling a bit to keep up.

“Hey” is what you hear before you feel a warm surface press against your cheek. You look up to find Kasamatsu with a steaming cup in hand. Gratefully accepting it, you catch a whiff of freshly brewed tea. You take a sip and smile. Black tea, no sugar. “Just the way I like it.”

“Noticed you never add anything to your tea,” Kasamatsu says almost proudly.

You raise the cup to him in thanks. Both of you go through your usual routine—you focusing on reviewing material for next week while Kasamatsu pores over his notes from this week, occasionally poking you to ask questions.

Honestly, a big part of you still wonders if this is all a dream. This guy you’ve been crushing on for years is sitting in the flesh right across from you. You peek at him from time to time, watching the way he frowns at his book. His blue, almost grey, eyes shine underneath the flickering lights. Even the way his lips curl unhappily is cute.

When he catches you staring, you quickly drop your gaze back to your laptop, missing the way he smiles quietly.

“Will you come to our show this weekend?” He asks as the two of you pack up.

“Ah, I have a shift at my part-time job.”

He looks surprised, “That late?”

You shrug, “Food never sleeps, I guess. It’s at the burger diner by campus.”

“Oh, are you guys open late?”

“Close at one.”

He nods, “Maybe I’ll see you there after then. The guys usually get really hungry after a gig so we can drive some business your way. I’ll make sure they tip well too.”

Your heart warms at the thought. It’s a thoughtful gesture but you’re even more thrilled at the prospect of seeing him. “Sounds good.”

True to his word, Kasamatsu brings the guys to your workplace at midnight after their show ended. They order quite a spread, practically everything on the menu. Kasamatsu goes as far as to help you carry orders to their table. You shoot him an appreciative smile.

Over the time your friendship has bloomed, Kasamatsu has been nothing but a gentleman. He walks you home to your dorm if you’re studying late into the night. He meets you in class with a muffin or a cookie from his early Starbucks runs. Surprisingly, he begins placing himself next to you each session. “This is better anyway,” he mutters. “Two birds, one stone.”

His vague words had you tilting your head in question.

“I don’t have random people coming up to me to sit with me and, well, I get to enjoy your company.” It’s a nice thought—him enjoying your company, that is. He had blushed a little when he realized what you said, but chose to direct his attention to the slides pulled up before him, missing the way you hide your smile behind your sleeve.

Now, you hear the rowdy boys chattering on as they devour their meal as if it’s their last. They speak through mouthfuls of burgers and fries, but you find the sight endearing, mainly because you’ve never seen Kasamatsu so relaxed. It’s quite refreshing really. Your attention is piqued when you hear one of them ask: “So doing it tonight huh?”

Kasamatsu retorts with a “shut the fuck up” and flings a fry his way. The way the other guy wiggles his brows suggestively has you freezing. What if he was meeting up with someone tonight? What if he was going to do the deed?

Somewhere in the distance, you hear the faint cracking of your heart. Of course, Kasamatsu is popular. It’s no surprise he’s got his nights covered as well. You sigh dejectedly, feeling the hope inside you crumble into dust. The rest of your shift goes by rather uneventfully, but you try to avoid going to their table too much, lest you hear more details about Kasamatsu’s planned tryst. The man himself steals glances your way, wondering if you’ll be checking on them anytime soon.

“Your check,” you smile as you set the bill on the table, “I got the owner to give you a discount since you guys ordered a good amount.”

All of their eyes seem to sparkle as they thank you in unison, their synchrony almost puzzling. As you move to pick up the bill and change, Kasamatsu catches your hand before you move away. “What time does your shift end?”

“Half an hour. Why?”

The other guys are already packing up their things and giving you little waves as they exit the restaurant, leaving the two of you alone. “I’ll walk you home, it’s late,” he murmurs, fingers still wrapped around your wrist.

“Oh, you don’t have to! I usually take the bus back anyway so it’s no big deal.” You want to confirm whether he had plans that night anyway. You’d hate to be in the way of that.

He shakes his head, “I insist. Also, um, are you doing anything tomorrow?”

“Catching up on studying most likely.”

“Oh,” he pauses, “if you have time tomorrow night, do you want to catch a movie with me? Maybe dinner after?”

You blink at him in surprise. Now that you’re looking at him properly, you notice that his cheeks are several shades darker than the red neon glow of the diner sign. He’s shifting on his feet and his other hand finds purchase on the strap of his bag, fidgeting with the material. “Um, like a date?”

“Y-yeah,” he stutters slightly, his throat moving as he swallows. “Sorry, I probably should’ve made that clear,” he coughs, “b-but if you don’t want it to be the we can also go as friends.” Perhaps you’ve tortured the boy long enough but you can’t help but relish in his awkward chuckle as his hand lifts to rub the back of his neck nervously.

Biting back a huge grin, you nod. “It’s a date.”

Kasamatsu’s eyes light up and a pleased grin spread across his face. “It’s a date.”

The hollering outside the building has the two of you whipping to face the window where his bandmates have their faces pressed up against the surface, laughing and smiling to congratulate and embarrass their friend. Kasamatsu flushes, “I’ll see you later to pick you up.”

You nod but he’s already out the door, leaping to kick his friends away. “You stupid idiots!”

Laughing, you watch as the group makes kissy faces at Kasamatsu all the while the man fruitlessly attempts to shut them up. He really is cute.

[scifrey]

WORDS FOR WRITERS: The Value of Fanfiction

There’s been a lot of chatter on social media these last few weeks, recycling that trashy, self-aggrandizing, tired old “hot take” that reading and writing fanfiction is somehow bad for you as a writer.

Before we go any further, let me give a clear and definitive answer to this take:

No, reading and writing fanfiction will not make you and does not make you a bad reader or writer.

 Period.

 Why? Here’s the TL;DR version:

1)      Reading and Writing, any kind of reading and writing, will make you a better reader and writer. And it’s enjoyable, to boot.

2)      Fanfiction has been around as long as Original Fiction, so we’d know if there was any negative impact by now (spoiler alert: there isn’t.)

3)      Practice is Practice, so matter what medium you get that practice in.

4)      Comprehending and writing fanfiction is harder than writing original fiction because you have to hold the Source Media Text in your head at the same time as you’re reading/writing a different story. It improves your understanding of storytelling.

5)      No hobby, no matter what it is, so long as it doesn’t harm anyone else or yourself, is bad. And that goes double for if you decide to keep it a hobby. Not every fanfic writer wants to write original fiction, and that’s just fine. Not every hobby has to be monetized.

 Okay. But what do they mean by “fanfiction”?

 “Fanfiction is fictional writing written by fans, commonly of an existing work of fiction. The author uses copyrighted characters, settings, or other intellectual properties from the original creator as a basis for their writing.”-- Wikipedia

 Basically – it’s when you take elements (setting, characters, major themes or ideas) of a Media Text (a novel, a movie, a podcast, a comic, etc.) and create a different story with those elements. You can write a missing scene, or an extended episode, or a whole new adventure for the characters of the Media Text. You can even crossover or fuse multiple Media Texts, or specific elements, to create a whole new understanding of the characters or their worlds.

 Similar to fanfic, you can also create fanart, fancomics, or fansongs (“filk”), fancostumes (“cosplay”), and fanfilms. These are called Fanworks or Fancrafts.

 Fanfiction is usually posted to online forums, journals, blogs, or story archives and shared for free among the public. Before the advent of the internet, fanfiction was often printed or typed, and hand-copied using photocopiers or ditto machines, and distributed for free (or for a small administration fee to cover materials) among fans at conventions, or through mail-order booklets (“zines”).

 Fanfiction has existed pretty much since the beginning of storytelling (A Thousand and One Nights, Robin Hood, and King Arthur all have different elements attributed to them by different authors retelling, twisting, adding to, or changing the stories; there’s no single-origin author of those tales.)

 There are billions on billions of fanfics out there in the world—and while a majority of them are romance stories, there are also adventures, comedies, dramas, thrillers, stories based on case files, stories about the emotional connection between characters when one is hurt and the other must care for them, historical retellings, etc. There are also stories for every age range and taste, though be sure to take heed of the tags, trigger warnings, and age range warnings as your browse the archives and digital libraries.

 As a reader, it’s your responsibility to curate your experience online.

 So why are people so afraid or derisive of fanfic?

 People who are hard on fanfic say that…

 ·       It sucks.

o   Well of course it sucks! As it’s a low-stakes and easy way to try out creative writing for the first time, the majority of fanfiction is overwhelmingly written by new and young writers. Everything you do when you first try it sucks a little bit. 

I’m sure no figure skater was able to immediately land perfect triple axels ten minutes after they strap on the skates for the first time in their lives. No knitter has ever made a flawlessly perfect jumper on their first try. No mathematician has ever broken the code to send a rocket into space after having just been taught elementary-school multiplication. So why on earth do people think that new writers don’t need to practice? I can promise you that Lin-Manuel Miranda’s first rap was probably pretty shaky.

·       It’s lazy or it’s cheating.

o   Listen, anyone who tells you that writing anything is lazy clearly has not sat down and tried to write anything. Writing is tedious. It is boring. It takes hours, and hours, and hours to get anything on the page, and then once it’s on the page you have to go back and edit it. UGH. There is nothing about being a writer—even a fanfic writer—that is lazy.

o   And anyone who tells you that trying to tell a fresh, new story within the limits and confines of a pre-existing world and have it make sense is cheating, then they have no freaking clue how hard it is to be creative with that kind of limitation placed on you. It’s harder when you have a set of rules you need to follow. What you do come up with is often extremely interesting and creative because of those limitations, not in spite of them.

o   The argument that using pre-made characters, settings, tropes, and worlds to make up a new story is cheating is also complete bunk. Do those same people also expect hockey players to whittle and plane themselves a whole new hockey stick from scratch before each game? No, of course not. And yeah, a baker can grow all their own wheat, grind the flour, raise the chickens and cows so they can get eggs and milk, distill the vanilla, etc. Or a baker can buy a box mix. Either way, you get a cake at the end of the process. Whether you write fanfic or original fiction, you still get a story at the end of the process.

·       It makes you a worse writer.

o   * annoying buzzer noise * Practicing anything does not make you worse at it. And reading stories that are not edited, expertly crafted, or “high art” will also not indoctrinate you into being a bad writer. If anything, figuring out why you don’t like a specific story, trope, or writing style is actually a great way to learn what kind of writer you want to be, and to learn different methods of constructing sentences, creating images, and telling tales. Or you know, just how much spelling and grammar matter.

·       It’s not highbrow or thoughtful enough.

o   Sometimes stories are allowed to be just comfort food. Not every book or story you read has to be haute cuisine or boringly nutritious. You are allowed to read stories because they’re exciting, or swoony, or funny, or just because you like them. Anyone who says differently is a snob and worth ignoring. (Besides, fun silly stories can also be packed with meaning and lessons—I mean, hello, Terry Pratchett, anyone?)

·       It makes you waste all your time on writing that can’t be monetized.

o   No time is wasted if you spend it doing something that brings you joy. Not every hobby needs to be a money-maker and not everyone wants to be a professional writer. You are allowed to write, and read, fanfic just for the fun of it.

·       It’s theft.

o   According to Fair Use Law, it’s not. As long as the fanfic writer (or artist, cosplayer, etc.) is not making money on their creation that directly impacts or cuts into the original creator’s profit, or is not repackaging/plagiarizing the original Media Text and profiting off it’s resale, then Fan Works are completely legal. So there.

 How, exactly, does fanfic make you a better writer?

 Fanfiction…

 ·       teaches you to finish what you start.

o   The joy of being able to share your fic, either as you’re writing it, or afterward, is a big motivating factor for a lot of people. They finish because they get immediate feedback on it from their readers and followers. Lots of people have ideas for books, but how many of them do you know have actually sat down and written the whole thing?

o   Fanfic is also low-stakes; there’s nothing riding on whether you finish something or not, so you have to inspire yourself to get there without the outside (potentially negative) motivation of deadline or a failing grade if you don’t get the story finished. You end up learning how to motivate yourself.

o   Fanfic has no rules, so you write as much or as little as you want, stop wherever you think is a good place to end the story, write it out of order, or go back and write as many sequels or prequels as you like. Again, it’s totally low-stakes and is meant to be for fun, so you can noodle around with what it means to write a “whole” story and “complete” it, which teaches you how you like to write, and how you like to find your way to the finish line.

·       teaches you story structure.

o   Before you can sit down and write a story based on one of your favorite Media Texts, you’re likely to spend a lot of time consuming that text passively, or studying it actively. Either way, you’re absorbing how and why Media Text structures the stories it tells, and are learning how to structure your own from that.

o   Once you’re comfortable with the story structure the Media Text you’re working in is told, you’ll probably start experimenting with different ways stories can be told, and find the versions you like to work with best.

·       teaches you how to write characters consistently.

o   Fanfic is really hard because not only do you have to write your fave characters in a way that moves the story along, but they have to be recognizable as those fave characters.

o   This means you have to figure out their body language, verbal and physical tics, their motivations and they way the handle a crisis (fight, flight, or fawn?), and then make up the details you may need for your story that you may never see on screen/the page, like how they take their eggs or what their fave shampoo is, based on what you already know about them. That takes some top-notch detective work and character understanding to pull off.

o   Once you know how to do that, just making up a whole person yourself for original fiction is a breeze.

·       Teaches you how to hear and mimic a character/narrator voice.

o   You have to pay close attention to how an actor speaks, or how a character’s speech patterns, dialect, work choice, etc. is reflected on the page in order to be consistent in your story.

o   And all of this, in turn, teaches you how to build one for yourself.

o   I have a whole series of articles here about building a narrative voice, if you want to read more on constructing an original voice for your narrator.

·       Teaches you how to create or recreate a setting.

o   Again, like achieving character consistency, or mimicking a character or narrative voice, it takes work and paying attention in order to re-create a setting, time period, or geographical region in a fanfic—and if you’re taking your characters somewhere new, your readers will expect that setting to be equally rich as the one the Media Text is based in.

o   Which, again, teaches you how to then go and build an original one for yourself.

·       teaches how to take critique.

o   Professional writing is not a solitary pursuit. In fact, most writing is not entirely the work of an author alone. Like professional authors work with editors, critique partners, and proofreaders, some fanfiction writers will sometimes work with beta-readers or editors as well. This are friends or fanfic colleagues who offer to read your fanfic and point out plot, character, consistency, or story structure errors, or who offer to correct spelling and grammar errors. This is a great way to practice working with editors if you decide to pursue a professional career, and also a great way to make friends and strengthen your community and skill set if you don’t.

o   Many fanfic sites offer readers the opportunity to leave a comment on a fic, rather like a reviewer can leave a review on GoodReads or Amazon, or any other online store or blog, for a novel they’ve read. Sometimes these comments/reviews are 5 star and enthusiastic! Sometimes they are… not. The exact opposite in fact. As you get comments on your fanfic, and learn to ignore the ones that are just mean rather than usefully critical, you gain the Very Important Skill of learning to resist firing back at bad comments or reviews, while enjoying the good ones.  It also teaches you how to ignore drama or haters.

·       Teaches you how to exist within a like-minded community.

o   While the actual writing part of writing is solitary and sometimes tedious, nothing is ever published into a vacuum, whether it be fanfiction or original. Besides your editing/critique/beta reader group, you will also likely develop friendships, a support network, and mutuals. It’s always great to uplift, support, cheer on, and celebrate one another’s accomplishments and victories, whether the writing is fanfic or original.

·       Teaches you that it’s okay to write about things important to you, or your own identity.

o   You can change a characters ethnicity, cultural background, sexuality, religion, or disabilities to match yours, and talk about your lived life through the megaphone of that character. Or, you can insert original characters based on you, your desires, and experiences.

o   Once you’re comfortable writing in your #ownvoice in fanfic, you can approach it in original fiction, if you like.

o   See my article titled Your Voice Is Valid for more on this.

 What if I want to be a professional writer?

 Notice how I didn’t say “real writer”. Any writer who writes any kind of story is a ‘real’ writer. I mean, pinch yourself—you’re real, right? The difference is actually between being an “amateur” writer (a hobbyist who does not write for pay), and a “professional” (who is paid for their writing). Just because you only play shinny on the street with your friends, or in a house league on the weekends, it’s doesn’t mean  you’re not still as much of a hockey player as someone who plays in the NHL.

 Writing fanfiction before or at the same time as writing original fiction that you intend to sell is a great way to learn, or practice, everything I’ve mentioned above. If you read it widely, it will also expose you to different story telling styles, voices, and tropes than your reading of published fiction.

 ·       Can I sell my fanfic?

o   No. For fanfiction to remain under the umbrella of Fair Use Law, you cannot profit off your fanfiction. There’s some grey-area wiggle room around things like charging a small amount for a ‘zine or a PDF to cover administrative costs, but zero wiggleability around, say, selfpublishing your fanfic and charging heaps for it.

·       Can I “file off the serial numbers”?

o   “Filing of the series numbers” is when you take a fanfic you’ve written and essentially pull it apart, remove everything that’s clearly someone else’s Media Text, and reassembling the story so that it’s pretty much a completely original piece of creative writing.

o   Yes, you can sell these, provided your filing is rigorous enough that you aren’t likely to be dinged for plagiarism. It’s widely known that Cassandra Claire’s Shadowhunters was once Harry Potter fanfic, and that Fifty Shades of Gray was once Twilight fanfic. But did you know that my Triptych started life as an idea for a Stargate Atlantis fic? There’s lots of stories out there that were once full fics, or the idea for the novel was originally conceived for a fandom, but written as original instead.

o   So long as you’re careful to really rework the text so that it’s not just a find-name-replace-name rewrite, you should be fine.

o   Be aware, though, that the agents and editors you might pitch this novel to know how to Google. They may discover that this is a filed-off story, and depending on their backgrounds and biases, might be concerned about it. There’s no need to inform them of the novel’s origin straight off in your pitch/query letter, but you may want to have a frank discussion with them about it after it’s been signed so they can help you make sure that any lingering copywrited concepts or characters are thoroughly changed before publication.

o   Should you take down the original fic-version of the novel while you’re querying/shopping it? Well, that’s up to you, and whether you’re comfortable with an editor/agent potentially finding it.

·       Should I be ashamed of my fic, or take it down, or pretend I never wrote fic?

o   What? Why? No! I mean, I have hidden some of my most immature work, but I’ve left pretty much my whole catalogue of fanfic online and I don’t deny that I was/am a ficcer. Why? Because it’s a great repository of free stories that people can read before they buy one of my books, so they can get a taste of how and what I write. Also, you will be in good company. Lots and lots of writers who are published now-a-days started in fandom, including:

Steven Moffat

Seanan McGuire

Rainbow Rowell

Claudia Gray

Cory Doctorow

Marissa Meyer

Meg Cabot.

Naomi Novik

Neil Gaiman

Lev Grossman

S.E. Hinton

John Scalzi

The Bronte Sisters

Andy Weir

Sarah Rees Brennan

Marjorie M. Liu

Anna Todd

...and me, J.M. Frey

 How fanfic can harm.

 Like with anything else, there are ways that reading and writing fanfiction can actually harm you, or others, but it has nothing to do with the reading or writing of fanfiction in and of itself.

 ·       Some creators may prefer that you don’t (and may or may not follow up with legal action).

o   Anne Rice famously went after fanficcers in the 90s who wrote fanfic of her work, handing out Cease & Desist notices like confetti.

o   99% of creators don’t care. Those who do will generally have a notice on their websites or social media politely asking fancreators to refrain. Mostly this is due to their general discomfort over the idea of anyone else getting to play in their worlds. The best thing to do is respect that request, and find a different fandom to write in.

·       Flamewars and fandom fights leading to bullying and doxing.

o   Regrettably, just like any other community filled with people who have different favorites, opinions, and preferences, there will inevitably be clashes. It’s up to you to decide how to react to negative interactions, and how to model positive ones.

o   Don’t forget, you curate your online experience, so don’t be afraid of that block button.

o   Also, don’t be the jerk who goes after people for liking different aspects of the fandom. Everyone is entitled to interact and like a Media Text their own way. “Don’t yuck my yum,” as they say.

·       Trying to make money on other people’s IP/Media Text (law suits, etc.)

o   It doesn’t belong to you, so don’t try to make money on it.

o   There’s a grey area here in terms of selling prints/plushies/jewelry/etc. and there’s no hard line about where one copyright owner will draw the line, and another won’t. Warner Bros. owns the film rights for both Harry Potter and Hunger Games, but I’ve seen Harry Potter-themed bars spring up while fans wanting to make Hunger Game fanfilms have been shut down. A friend of mine sells hand-made fandom-inspired items at cons—there is no rhyme or reason to what she gets told to stop making and what she’s left alone on.

o   Best thing to do if you’re told to stop is just so stop, move on, and find a different fandom to be active in.

·       Writing Real Person Fanfic (“RPF”) can be considered a violation of consent.

o   This article sums it up pretty well, but basically… if you decide to write RPF, be aware that they person you are writing about is a real person, with real thoughts, and emotions, and they may feel violated by RPF. If you decide to write it, never send it to the people it’s about, and always clearly tag it so other can choose to engage with it, or avoid it.

o   Also be aware that it could ruin their love for what they do. For example: the friendships between the members of 1Direciton became strained and the band eventually disintegrated because people wouldn’t stop sending band members smutty stories or art of them having sex with one another, and it made them too uncomfortable to continue in the band.

·       Showing/sharing fanfic & fanart outside of its intended context. Fanworks are for fans, and there are definitely issues if…

o   It’s shown to celebrities/actors/creators.

  Shoving your fantasies onto the people who create or portray your fave characters is rude, and wrong, and also kinda gross. If they seek it out themselves, that’s one thing, but the same way you wouldn’t throw it at a complete stranger, don’t throw it at them. You may love the characters these people play, but they are not their characters, and they are not your friends.

  It may also really weird them out and ruin their love for what they do.

o   it’s shown to writers working on the series.

  There was a famous case where a fanficcer sent a story to a novelist, and the novelist was accused of plagiarism by the ficcer when their next novel in the series resembled the plot of that fanfic. There was a whole court case and everything.

  Because of this, writers of TV shows, books, etc. don’t want to (and often times, legally can’t) read your fanfic. They don’t want to get accidentally inspired by what you’ve written, or worse, have to throw out something because it resembles your fic too closely. Just let them write their stories the way they want, and if they choose to seek out fic, they will.

o   it’s mocked by celebrities.

  I’m not letting Alan Carr and Graham Norton off the hook. If it’s super rude and gross to shove fanworks at actors/writers/creators when you’re a creator, then it’s doubly rude for anyone to take a story or art made for a specific audience (the fans), by a specific community (the fans), lift it out of it’s context, and invite the public to mock it while also shoving it at the actor/celebrity in a place where they are literally cornered and can’t leave (i.e. the chat-show sofa). Man, it really steams me up when they do that. It’s rude and it’s tone-deaf, and it’s not fair.

  And most of the time they do it, they don’t even ask the artist or writer for permission, first, which is just…. Uuuuugggghhhh. It may be fanfic, but it was still created by someone, and you should always ask permission before publicly sharing something created by someone else.

  Grrrrrrr.

 In Conclusion

 If someone tells you that reading or writing fanfic is bad for you as a creator, tell them to get bent.

Famous Fanfic

·       Hamilton by Lin-Manuel Miranda

·       Wicked by Gregory Maguire

·       Wicked: the Musical by Stephen Schwartz

·       The Phantom of Manhattan by Fredrick Forsyth

·       A Study in Emerald by Neil Gaiman

·       Sherlock by Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat

·       The Dracula Tape, by Fred Saberhaugen

·       Paradise Lost, John Milton

·       Inferno, by Dante

·       The Aeneid, by Virgil

·       Ulysses, by James Joyce

·       Romeo & Juliet, by William Shakespeare

·       The Once and Future King by T.H. White

·       A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, by Mark Twain

·       The Three Musketeers, by Alexandre Dumas

·       Pride & Prejudice & Zombies, by Seth Grahame-Smith

·       Phantom, a novel of his life by Susan Kaye

·       …and so many more.

[adventuresloane]

"I told you you'd get sick", because it is such prime fluff starting material..

((So I made this way longer than originally intended and followed the prompt in the most tangential of ways. No one should be shocked at this point.))

As was her wont, Lup knocked on the front door, didn't wait for a response, and phased into the house through the two inches of wood. "Alright, I'm here to make chicken soup and accidentally scorch your petunias," she said, "and I've already...well, sorry about that."

Rather than remarking that he had planted those all of four days ago, Kravitz skipped over her greeting altogether. "You know, Lup, this is going to be your home in a few months anyway." Not to mention that she dropped by just about daily regardless. "You don't have to knock every time."

She shrugged, causing the flames that rose from her shoulders to shiver upwards before falling again. "Still gotta wait until I get my body back before I enjoy that bedroom you got picked out for me. How's Taako?" This was usually one of the first things she asked, although it was a particularly relevant question today. "That doofus had better be sleeping."

"He's trying, I think. It's hard for him, though. He says he hasn't slept in the past decade. I'm sure he's out of practice if all he does is Trance."

"Right, right," she said, then turned her black, featureless face inside her red hood back towards him. In the same tone that she'd had when she'd floated in, she continued, "Well, he's lucky he's capable of lying in a bed at all."

"Yes," Kravitz said, right before he said nothing. For a few moments that felt too long and slightly sweaty to him, he stared at Lup, and presumably she stared back, in spite of the fact that he couldn't tell where her eyes were. Her spectral form bobbed slightly up and down in the air, and flames with dark red centers licked off the char-black bones of her hands, and suddenly he was rather glad she always knocked rather than, say, floating up through the floor unannounced when she felt like it. And now the silence was decidedly awkward. He pushed aside one of several unopened cardboard boxes with his foot. "Um, it's his own fault, really. Taako's been spending all his time trying to unpack and organize the house at the same time he's getting things organized to start his school. It's no wonder he's fallen ill--"

"Language." He turned to face her when she piped up. "Just say 'got sick.' No one says 'fall ill' anymore."

He huffed.

"Hey, you were the one who asked me to correct you when you talked like an old geezer."

This was true. It was also true, he was sure, that she enjoyed chastising him for a change, when normally he was the one telling her what to do during reaper training. He moved on. "So I did what you said. The chicken's been slow-cooking for several hours now."

"And you put all the seasonings he likes under the skin like I said? You got the rosemary in there?"

"Yes."

"And the parsley?"

"Two teaspoons of dried."

"And the oregano?"

Kravitz balked and gawked at her. She only kept waiting expectantly. There was no way. He had double- and triple-checked the list she had given him in the knowledge that this had to be made perfectly. How could he have concentratedpassed over something like--?

She laughed. "I'm fucking with you. Lighten up, dude." She attempted to pat him on the shoulder as she floated past him into the kitchen. Her hand passed right through him a couple times, but eventually she  hard enough to make contact. Sometimes she spent a lot of time trying to touch corporeal things. Maybe that was how she'd burned the flowers. "Anyway, who's gonna use oregano when you've already got a buttload of rosemary in there? Come on."

But that was what he was here for today, to be her hands. According to her, there was precious little room for error when making this soup if they wanted to do it The Right Way, no leeway for her to accidentally drop in too much celery or pepper. There was precious little room for error, Kravitz reminded himself as he followed her instructions to strip the chicken meat from the bones.

"I bought a few different kinds of noodles, since I wasn't sure what was best," he said. "There's those twisty egg noodles, thin pasta, the flat ones--"

"Flat," Lup answered rather like a patient schoolteacher, "and don't break them up when you put them in the soup. He'll slurp them up one-by-one when no one's watching, but he'll never admit that. That comes later, though. The noodles cook separately, and it doesn't take long."

"Oh. Sure," he responded quietly.

"We used to make the noodles from scratch back on the ship and save them for rainy days, but store-bought's gonna have to do. Hey, do you have a pepper mill?"

"A what?"

"You know, for grinding up fresh-cracked pepper. Taako likes a lot of it."

"Oh, right. I think we do, but it might be in storage." Kravitz clumsily tried to get his nails under the papery skin of a garlic bulb, trying to peel it off. "Did he tell you he likes it fresh-ground better?"

Lup cocked her head a little. "I don't think he told me, per se. He just...well, he always used to like it that way, at least."

He nodded, stiffly. Then he continued nodding through a litany of other questions and corrections from her, about how much water he's already added and how much he needs to reduce the broth later and how to extract the flavor from the bones and how much salt was needed. There was a temptation to remark that he could, in fact, operate a stove. But he would say this for her: for someone who came across as so impulsive sometimes, she was surprisingly fastidious when it came to cooking. She knew everything about this dish. About what Taako liked about it. Given that he didn't feel hunger and as such hadn't done much in the way of cooking for hundreds of years, he had little choice but to listen to her. Although it would be nice if she could stop instructing him long enough for him to try to absorb what he was doing, so that he could remember all these details himself, for the next time Taako got sick.

He was so busy trying to keep up with her that he barely registered it when she abruptly switched to praise. "You're not half-bad, Skele-friend."

"Huh?" he responded, all dignity. "Oh, well, I'm just doing what you tell me. Or trying to."

"Yeah, well, you're doing a good job of it. Especially since you haven't taken orders from anyone less than a goddess for, what, a few centuries?"

"And you haven't made this recipe in quite some time. It's incredible how well you remember it."

She paused. "Taako's the one who always used to make it, actually," she murmured. "I'd be the helper. Unless I was the one who was sick. Then he'd do it himself. I feel like it's about time I returned the favor."

Kravitz couldn't keep from grinning at the thought. "I had a feeling he'd be a caring older brother."

"He's not my older brother. We're twins."

"Who's older, though?"

"Neither, we were born at the same time!"

"So you're the younger one."

She attempted to give him a playful shove. "Of course you'd take his side," she said in an exaggerated grumble. "I suppose you've had siblings?"

"Yes," he said quietly. He returned to stirring and said nothing else. Mercifully, she got the hint. After a moment, she materialized a white wand of sharpened bone into her hand (one of Barry's ulna's that he'd gifted to her, she'd told Kravitz once, which...said something about their relationship, alright). He watched her point it into the broth.

His side-eye must have been more obvious than he'd suspected, because she huffed when she could sight of him staring. For someone whose face was little more than a black void with an ember-like glow of red at the center, she could give quite the eye-roll. "Relax, Mr. Death Cop. It's healing magic." She stopped for a moment, apparently to judge whether she could push her luck. "Though, you know, necromancy is hardly different from the stuff clerics do every day."

"I'm no arcanologist, Lup. I just take down cultists. And you know that whether or not clerics do it doesn't matter to the Raven Queen. Whether it's Vampiric Touch or Revivify, it's still a corruption of fate."

"Alright, spare me the speech, please. I'm just saying," she said with another shrug. "I am an arcanologist, and I can tell you that it's the same kind of magical energy to heal or hurt, just flowing in different directions."

There had been an eon when he had felt that as opposed to simply knowing it, back before he'd had a scythe or a home in the Astral Plane. When he could ease his mother's headaches with a song.

"Shit," she shouted out of nowhere, as the blue flames from the gas burners shot up suddenly. Kravitz scrambled for the heat dials. "Shit, wait, doesn't everything he eat taste like Gogurt now? What if he can't even taste the soup?"

"It's okay, Lup," he responded before she could go on. "I've asked him about that. He said soup doesn't count for the curse. He'll be able to taste it."

"Oh." She sounded as though she'd let out a sigh of relief, though she lacked lungs. "Okay, I just wasn't sure. Magnus had to tell me that, you know. I wouldn't have even known Taako was cursed otherwise."

Kravitz glanced her way. "Does that bother you?"

"It's not like he has to tell me," she said quickly. Everything else came out much less enthusiastically. "It's just weird that I...don't already know, I guess. I've just--you'll want a chef's knife for that."

"Which one is--?"

"Curved blade. And it's easier if you don't move the knife back and forth. Just pass the carrot under the blade while you chop." She sighed. "Anyway, I just missed things. A lot."

Kravitz bit his lip. "Well...you still know him like no one else. You realize that, don't you? I feel like I'm playing catch-up with all the rest of you. You all had a hundred years to figure him out. And you in particular had quite a few more."

"You're not doing too bad on that front already, bud." He could have sworn he saw a smile peek out from under the hood. He didn't recall her ever calling him "bud" before. "Not from what Taako's told me, anyway."

He stopped stirring the wooden spoon through the golden fluid for awhile. "I guess it's good you'll be moving in with us before too long, huh? We can bring each other up to speed."

"Listen, this shit's gonna be done before long. Why don't you take it up to him yourself?"

Kravitz looked her way. "You sure? It's your soup. You don't want to come up with me?"

"I'll see him plenty later. I'm sure I will."

Minutes later, he was knocking on the door of Taako's bedroom--their shared bedroom, now, with a new king-sized bed and mattress. There were a few instances of throat-clearing before Kravitz heard a croak of "Come in."

He pushed through the door, steaming bowl in both hands. "Hey, darling, have you slept at all?"

"Can't sleep at the best of times, babe." Taako followed up the answer with a snort. "This cold's some bullshit."

He chuckled. "I told you you'd get sick if you kept working like you've been."

"Can it, Bone-Hands McGee." He sat up and struggled to sniff some air through his stuffed nose. "Hey, is that--?"

"Lup helped." He lifted his shoulders in a way that he hoped would come across as self-effacing, as if the soup in his hands didn't smell like absolute heaven.

"That so?" He wiped his nose with a tissue, though not before Kravitz saw the blush creep into his warm cheeks. He saw that blush a lot, and just at the moment that the two of them met eyes. Each time was a gift just for him, whether Taako meant to give it to him or not. "Let's give it a whirl then."

Kravitz sat next to him on the bed and watched the whole while as Taako held the bowl under his nose, let the steam waft up into his sinuses, tipped his head back to show his smooth neck and closed his eyes and drank the broth slowly. Then he licked his lips abruptly and said, "Not bad for someone who considers fancy wine to be an entire meal. Hey, get out of my bed of contagion. You're the one who's gonna get sick next."

He chuckled and ran a hand through Taako's already pillow-ruffled hair. "That's the nice thing about being dead already, sweetheart. I can't really get sick." To prove the point, he kissed his cheek.

He kept doing it, in fact, as he and Taako sat together and as the soup was slowly consumed. He hummed softly, then sung more so. And a few times, when he touched his lips to his boyfriend's skin, he tried to dredge up the kind of magic that he hadn't hadn't used for centuries, for the majority of his life. Not since he'd been alive. It felt far different from the kind he used to electrocute or grapple a necromantic cultist, and at first it felt like trying to run water through a pipe that hadn't seen a drop in decades. But he felt the warmth of the magic like he felt the vibration of his vocal chords, energy coming from deep inside of him, from nothing. Taako seemed to breath more easily as the Healing Word took effect.

It was after the bowl had been sitting empty for awhile that Kravitz felt Taako's breathing slow next to him and take on the rhythm not of meditation, but of sleep.

[detectivedreameater]

Margarita Monday || Camille and Marley

TIMING: Mid October PARTIES: @carrionxcamille and @detectivedreameater SUMMARY: Camille comes over to Marley’s for margaritas but ends up sharing a little more than drinks. CONTENT: Alcohol

Relaxing just...wasn’t something Marley really did. Ever. Sure, she took time off and had nights off, but just doing something to do it for, well, fun? Was strange. Having another woman over and not having intentions to sleep with her was also very strange for Marley. But, here she was, setting out ingredients to teach someone how to make margaritas the right way, just to...do it. No ulterior motive, no reason other than to just be normal. Readjusting herself, Marley set out the ingredients-- Dragones tequila, triple sec, cognac, lime juice, and a little bit of simple syrup. Oh, and ice. Marley had had to go to the store and actually buy a bag of ice, considering the only fridge she had was a small drink fridge, and it didn’t make ice. Was that weird or suspicious? Did she care? If this Camille was anything other than what she said she was, Marley could easily get away or fear  gaze her. She was in no trouble here. Still, she jumped a little when there was a knock on the door. She looked over, straightened herself out, then went over. “Welcome to Casa Del Marley,” she said in a cheesy tone, even if she did know proper Spanish. “It’s Margarita Monday today, so please come in and make yourself at home.” 

Right, this was good. Meeting people, getting out of the house, making connections. Camille was making progress, and it sure was better than spending another tuesday night parked in front of the tv barely focusing on trashy reality shows. She needed more friends, and margaritas certainly seemed like a good way to curb any first meeting awkwardness, even if it was a little college to get drunk on a weekday. Whatever, it’s not like running the park was hard. This would be good for her. This wasn’t her threadbare allyship with Regan, and she couldn’t rely solely on Cece for company either. The greeting at the door made her laugh a little as she stepped in, toeing her boots off by the door, “thanks for having me, I needed an excuse to get out the house.” And an excuse to have a drink a little stronger than a glass of wine, honestly. “You earn points already for the alliteration.” She grins, “teach me your ways, margarita master.” 

Marley moved around to the kitchen quickly once Camille was inside, trying not to let the strange feeling in her stomach take too much hold on her. “Yeah, sure,” she said, setting out two glasses and the mixer. “Anything to have an excuse to make margaritas, honestly.” She gave an awkward smile. “Not that I need one, but, you know.” She cleared her throat, gesturing to the ingredients she’d laid out. “Well, first of all, you need the right ingredients. None of that cheap shit, okay?” she pointed at the tequila. “This is the best kind, hands down. People might try and tell you Cuervo or Patron is good enough, but they’re wrong,” she tapped on it, “plus, my girlfriend would gut me if I said anything otherwise.” 

It was a long time since Camille had tried to make friends, honestly. With Jace the way he had been she didn’t want people around at the house and eventually being lonely was just easier than trying to make yet another excuse for why the girls couldn’t meet her husband or see her home. But Marley had offered to have her over, she wanted the company too. Of course, Camille couldn’t really afford high shelf tequila right now, but they’d- unsurprisingly- had a well stocked liquor cabinet at home, and she did one day plan to have a set up like it again. “Right.” She nods sagely, laughing a little, “honestly I can’t drink Cuervo anymore anyway, it just tastes too much like terrible college decisions.” She grins, “does your girlfriend work for the company or is she just a big believer in high shelf tequila?”

“As it should,” Marley said, scrunching her nose. “Cuervo is for college frat kids who want to get drunk fast. You need a nice fine tequila to truly appreciate the art of the margarita.” She cleared her throat, trying to move past the awkward feeling in her throat, even if she’d said the word first. “She’s a lady of fine taste, what can I say?” grinned before sweeping her hand to the next ingredient. “Now, some people might also try and tell you that you can use sweet and sour mix. It’s cheap, it’s faster-- blah, blah. But they’re wrong. You gotta do it yourself if you want the best flavor. I use lime juice, salt and simple syrup. 2 parts lime juice, half part syrup. Pinch of salt,” she explained, finding talking about alcohol was much easier than talking about Anita being her girlfriend and what she liked. “Lastly, my special secret ingredients,” she moved down the line again, “triple sec and cognac. Add to taste, of course, but I usually do a shot of each. Really brings out the other flavors. You can add a little orange juice as a spritz sometimes, too, if you’re feeling citrusy. But, yeah--” she nodded to herself as if to congratulate herself on a job well done. “That’s all there is to it. So, shall we try and make some?”

College frat kids who want to get drunk fast? Camille almost winces. That had sure been Jace. Perhaps this whole thing really was her own fault, in a roundabout way. How had she not seen the signs of it when they were younger? Sure everyone liked to get messed up at parties when they were kids, but Jace was always looking for another party to get messed up at. She’d thought- stupidly- it was the social aspect. Jace was a jovial guy, he loved to be around people, that was why he loved parties. Maybe even back then he’d loved drinking more. Uh oh, yeah, she was not going to admit it to Marley but Cam had definitely made a few sweet and sour mix margaritas in her time. It was easier. But then she hadn’t been sure how easy the real method was too-- and honestly it didn’t sound like rocket science. She liked listening to people talk about a passion of theirs, and Marley clearly had this down to a T, so seeing her in her comfort zone made Camille a little more relaxed too, and they weren’t even drinking yet. “So you go pretty sour then? That’s good. I make cosmos sometimes and I always add more lime juice than recipes say too, I just like them sour.” She nods, “doesn’t sound like I’d be able to fuck it up too badly,” Cam grins and picks up one of the glasses, “assuming you start with tequila?”

“Oh yeah,” Marley said, nodding, “the more sour, the better. What can I say? I’m a sour woman.” She stacked two glasses on the counter in front of them and motioned to the ingredients. “It really is hard to fuck up a margarita, it’s more about getting the right proportions so that you can enjoy all the flavors at once. And, of course, making sure you have good tequila,” tapped the bottle again, “yeah, sure. Start with that, I’ll uh-- supervise,” she said stepping back and letting Camille approach. This was still...strange and knew for her, but she was learning that it was nothing to be awkward about. Maybe this was just how normal people interacted. Maybe if she kept trying, she’d actually get used to it one day. She gave a smirk. “Go on, then,” she motioned, “don’t fuck it up.”

Camille laughed a little- actually, she’d been called a sourpuss once, by an older guy at a club trying to grind on her. The memory amused her to this day. Maybe they were both a little sour, but she didn’t think that was a bad thing. “I’m the same with wine, I never like it overly sweet.” She says, stepping up to the counter to start by pouring some tequila in one of the glasses- hey, she was still young enough at heart to know roughly how to pour out a shot. “I’ve known people to use triple sec before, but I’ve never come across cognac. Hey, I’ll trust the master though.” Cam shrugs, adding in plenty of lime juice and salt before pouring some syrup into a measure and adding that too. “I will admit to hating it when people put stuff on the rim of a glass though, salt or sugar or whatever. I’ve never gotten that.” She was sure that too was something about flavor, but the grains just irritated her mouth. Camille knew she liked triple sec, so after a full shot of that she measured out a little less cognac- she’d never been a huge fan- and added that too. “Looks like I managed to avoid total disaster… Or I didn’t make a mess at least.” Obsessively watching bartenders in college to make sure they didn’t mess with her drink had paid off, it seemed. She raised the glass, “cheers.” And took a sip. “Wow. Okay, you’re right. I’m adding cognac to every margarita I make from now on. Damn, that’s good. I don’t even like brandy.” 

Marley watched Camille fill up her drink, talking herself through the process. “Cognac just gives it a little extra bite, you know?” she shrugged, “I’m not a big fan of the alcohol on its own, but the slightest touch really does spruce up the most basic cocktail.” Mostly, she didn’t like it because it wasn’t an alcohol she could consume copious amounts of in a small amount of time in order to get drunker quicker. But she didn’t need to say that outloud. “Ah, see! You’re amazing at it already,” she said, leaning back against the counter. From around the corner of the kitchen table came JD, sniffing the air and the new scent in the house. Marley observed him for a moment, before realizing that his horns really weren't anything that normal people would expect on a hare. Or, really even, expect a hare. She went forward to shoo him away, but he scampered under the table and around into the kitchen, right up to Camille. “Uhh, he’s got-- a mutation,” she said, staring wide eyed.

It was all going well and everything was very normal, which Camille was pretty pleased about because since waking up in town she kept getting hit across the face with weirdness. Killer mimes and vampire neighbors and an eyeball where the goddamn sun should be. It was nice to kick back with a new friend and have a drink, and talk about normal things like cognac. She’d been into cocktail making for a while when she was younger, but then Jace’s problem had gotten worse and keeping high percentage alcohol in the house just… Didn’t seem smart. She took another sip and tried not to think about that. “Well it helps to have a good teacher.” Camille laughed, only the slightest of a bitter edge to the sound, “I would know, I used to be a- ah!” 

Camille startled when the creature scurried up to her, pressing her body back into the kitchen counter. “Holy hell.” It was, in essence, a big weird looking rabbit. Which would probably not have garnered much of a reaction if it were not for the horns. Horns! Every day something new and totally out of left field. Is it the weirdest thing she’s seen? Well… There were eyeballs coming out of her taps at one point, that was probably weirder. But this-- Camille didn’t quite see how a mutation could give a rabbit horns. Which meant this was the supernatural kind of weird, which meant Marley knew about the supernatural kind of weird. “...Right.” She takes another sip of her drink and sighs, weighing the pros and cons. Camille could pretend to believe her, but there would be an awkward air over the rest of the night. She had enough secrets already. “Y’know, you don’t have to… I- look, here’s the thing, I’m not an expert. Like, I don’t know a lot about it all but I do know that there’s stuff in this town that is…” She waves a hand vaguely in the air, trying to find a good word for it. “Let me put it this way, when I lived in the motel my neighbors were vampires. So, don’t bullshit me. That’s not a normal rabbit.” 

Marley watched Camille closely, as she started down at JD. She could see the cogs turning in her head. Most people who wanted to remain ignorant would wave this away and be happy to accept the “mutation” explanation-- but when Camille didn’t, Marley felt herself slowly warming up to the idea that maybe she wasn’t half bad. She came over around the counter and picked up the large hare, hoisting him onto one arm and holding him so his legs dangled below her arm. He sniffed the air, wriggled once, then settled in. “You’re neighbors were vampires? Gross,” she muttered, scrunching her nose, “vampires are so broody and angsty. Oh, my life is so tragic,’ she sighed, putting a hand to her forehead, “I’m doomed to eternal life and I must feed on the blood of innocents! Or...whatever.” She remembered the last vampire she’d known, and how much his disposition to drink blood tortured him. Vampires, for all their monstrosity, could be so human sometimes. “Glad you got out of there, then,” she replied, feeling the awkwardness hang in the air a bit. She cleared her throat. “He uh--” glanced down at JD, “--he’s a Jackalope. Supernatural hare, basically. But I swear he’s nice! Usually.” 

Camille wasn’t going to wander around the whole town with her eyes closed. She was in White Crest because she’d died. If she wanted answers about what the hell had happened to her and didn’t want those answers to totally freak her out it would probably be a good idea to embrace everything else weird and wacky going on in town. It was just so… Exhausting. Nothing was normal. She couldn’t even make a new friend and drink margaritas without some not rabbit thing becoming part of the evening. Maybe she just had to get used to it.

It was almost comical the way Marley handled the thing, and how quickly it settled into her arms like it’d been there a dozen times before. It probably had, she seemed to be keeping it like a domestic pet. That was almost… Sweet. And her vampire impression did make Cam laugh. “They were broody!” She agreed, “those walls were thin, I could hear them complaining. Didn’t stop the parade of pretty young girls always going in and out of their room though, so they can’t have felt too put out.” Once she’d found out what they were Cam had started watching for those girls- some of them went back again and again, but what mattered to her was making sure they walked back out. She nods, “yeah. Cece really did me a favor.” Oh how much she had come to rely on the kindness of strangers as of late, it was new. “He doesn’t seem not nice. He just startled me. I’m still getting used to all this stuff, and I don’t really feel like getting into why I’m here in the first place but it.. Yeah, it’s part of my life now, so.” Camille shrugs, staring at the jackalope… She’d heard of them, but it hadn’t occurred to her that they might really exist in this new world. “He’s almost cute. Does he have a name?”

“All vampires are,” Marley said with a little roll of her eyes. “They’re pretty dramatic.“ At least, all the vampire she’d met were like that-- she felt like it almost came with the territory, just like how most mara liked the strange and horrific. Most of them even shared Marley’s love for insects, because unlike most mammals, they didn’t run away scared. “Oh, you know Cece? Like Cece Bishop, Cece? I work with her sometimes.” And somehow knowing Camille knew Cece made Marley all the more relieved. At least she didn’t have to skirt around things anymore. “He’s very nice, usually. Just spooks easy, which is funny, considering--” she paused, frowned, “he’s pretty scary looking.” Marley rustled her arms, cinching her brows. “Almost cute? He’s extremely cute, actually. I mean, lookit his face!” she exclaimed, holding him up. JD responded by thumping his legs against her and leaping out of her arms and over to the couch. “Well...I think he’s cute,” she muttered, looking back over at Camille. “His name’s JD. Short for Jack Daniels.” A pause. “I swear I’m not an alcoholic, though.”

Sometimes Camille worried she was taking all of this too well. But then she remembered her first few months here, the icy cold that had settled over her the second she realized she was supposed to be dead, sitting in that motel room and staring at the wall for god knew how many days without being able to move. Trying to accept it all had practically rendered her catatonic, and she was still struggling, but Camille was no idiot. Even with all the additions the world was still the world and she was still a living thing that needed to make money and survive and carry on.

“I haven’t actually met any vampires, so I couldn’t speak for all of them.” Cam shrugs, and then her eyes widen, “at least… I don’t think I have. I suppose that’s rather the point.” Wow, maybe she had met vampires. Marley could be one for all she knew. It was probably rude to ask. “Yeah, it’s her I live with. We met out at Dell’s Tavern one night and when she found out I was staying at that creepy motel she insisted I stay with her.” She nods, “right, it makes sense that you’d know her too.” The morgue and the police department probably worked closely. They’d probably done that in Boston, when she’d died. Camille chuckled a little at the contradictions, how Marley thought something could look scary and cute at the same time. Though she managed not to flinch when it- JD- was brought closer to her face. He had regular rabbit eyes, all big and innocent and shiny. She did jump when the beast moved suddenly though, clutching one hand to her heart and laughing despite herself. “He can leap like a rabbit, huh? Is he- do you just keep him, like, as a pet?” Cam smiled, “I like JD. When I was in college my roommate had a hamster and we called it Khalua.” 

“Count yourself lucky, then,” Marley said with a small chuckle. “Oh, trust me-- you’d know.” It was a strange thing, to find someone so...okay with all this weirdness. Even Erin had been a little freaked out by everything at first, but maybe Camille had just skipped past it all already. Or she just hadn’t seen the freak out and was getting the after effects. She shrugged. “Yeah, Cece’s like that.” She didn’t know Cece all that well, but from what she could gather, the woman liked to feel useful and help others. And was a bit nosey. “He’s a hare, actually. Common mistake. Hares are bigger than rabbits.” She scratched her chin. “I mean, yes? He’s pretty harmless. He mostly just follows me around and chews on things. Animals don’t normally like me, so it’s kinda nice to have one around that, you know, does.” A chuckle. “Khalua, ha. That’s a good name. I’m gonna steal that if I ever get another pet. I was considering getting another tarantula, they’re pretty low maintenance.” She gave a short pause, before prodding her next question. “So...how do you know about all this stuff?”

“Oh, would I? Well that’s… Reassuring, I suppose.” The only thing that’d tipped Camille off about her neighbors at the motel was how loudly they talked about it. Perhaps they’d been trying to scare her. Honestly at the time they’d been the least of her worries, and she’d even briefly wondered if any attempts to kill her would actually work. Jury was still kind of out on that one, but it wasn’t like she wasn’t going to ask anyone to try it and find out. 

Camille nodded, “right, a hare.” The difference wasn’t enough to bother her, but she’d try and remember it. “Ah, I hear most animals are a little bit destructive like that.” She chuckled, it was one of the things that had stopped her from getting a dog with Jace, being too precious about her house. “He was a real hit whenever we had dorm parties, that’s for sure. Even the dean thought he was too cute to tell us off.” The idea of a spider as a pet was… Really not Camille’s cup of tea, but if Marley already had a weird supernatural hare it probably wouldn’t seem so odd to her.

Right. How did she know about all this? Marley was a cop, it probably wasn’t smart to tell her too much about how she didn’t have a legal identity and there was a man in prison for her murder. But… Well, Marley was a cop with a jackalope, and wouldn’t it be a good idea to have as many useful people helping her figure this out as possible? If Marley had a strong enough link to the supernatural stuff, maybe she’d have some information no one else did yet. “Well…” Camille sipped her drink, tapping her fingers against the side of the glass. “How do you know about this stuff?”

.Marley ruffled her nose. “Hey, I asked you first,” she pointed out, frowning. It was strange to not feel affronted by the question, however, and she had to take a minute to pause and decide if that really was one she wanted to answer. A few months ago it would have been a solid and definite no, but now that things had changed in Marley’s life, she wasn’t sure anymore. She waffled on it for a moment, confused by her own indecision. “I’m a cop in White Crest,” she finally answered with a shrug, “how could I not know about this stuff? I know most of the precinct will like to make you believe everyone around there has their head in the sand, but you can’t judge us all because of that.” Even if Marley did. She knew most of the other cops didn’t believe in any of this shit. “I also sort of grew up with this kinda stuff.”

She leaned back against the counter again. “Okay, so now that I played my cards, are you gonna tell me yours?” she asked, nodding at her. “You seem pretty normal, so what could’ve happened to you to clue you in to all this shit?”

Camille lounged back against the counter, tapping her nails against the almost empty glass in her hand and waiting. Whatever Marley had to say she was willing to bet the other woman had been around this kind of stuff a lot longer than she had. The reasoning of being a cop was sound enough, she was willing to bet they all saw some weird stuff. But Regan worked in the morgue and had wings and still managed to be disbelieving of the whole thing. Growing up around it, though, that made Camille relax just a little. 

She set the glass down to pull back the sleeve of her shirt and show the sigil on the back of her hand. “I died a while ago.” Camille said, trying to sound more nonchalant about the whole thing then she felt. “Woke up in White Crest earlier this year. With this thing-” She tapped a finger against the mark- “which I did not have in my first life. A lady told me it means I was resurrected and the mark keeps my soul in my body, or something.” Camille tugged her sleeve back down. “So I am pretty normal. Or I was, but it’s kind of hard to deny all this stuff when you know there’s an autopsy report with your name on it.” She shrugged, twisting her hands together, “I figure for now this town is the best place for me, while I’m still trying to get it together.” 

Had Marley been drinking something, she would have spit out her drink. Instead, it came up as a cough that felt as if it stuttered and stuck in her throat, and she turned to look at Camille with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, did you say you died? And then-- came back?” That wasn’t really all that uncommon, but Marley had been sure Camille wasn’t a zombie or a vampire-- her tastebuds were too on par. But then she showed Marley the marking on her hand and it clicked-- someone had brought her back to life using necromancy. Marley didn’t know much about it, only that only very powerful spellcasters could do it, and that it was some sort of taboo-- Peter had informed her of this, and reminded her that they were not vessels of death while doing so-- and that Bea had likely also been resurrected. She’d told Marley she’d died after Marley had pestered her about not calling back. 

“Yeah, well, I guess that’s fair,” she answered, scratching the back of her neck. “Normal is-- relative, I guess. Even though you’re, well, you know…” she motioned towards her, “you can still live a normal life.”

Marley’s reaction was… Almost comical. Especially in comparison to others. Nell had been matter of fact, Regan in denial. Marley was much closer to what Camille had expected of people. The tequila probably helped, but she actually didn’t feel all that exhausted by talking about it for once, which was a nice change. Perhaps because she hadn’t gotten into the details of her ex husband and the whole ordeal that had brought about her death. She didn’t want too, it wasn’t like she owed Marley anything. Part of normal was moving on. “It’s kind of a lot to process.” She said, nodding. “So I’m trying to take it easy. Just… Getting out into the world again, y’know? Steady job, making new friends.” Camille shrugged, “not perfect but better than nothing.” 

She smiled,“actually, it makes me feel much safer knowing we actually have cops who understand exactly what is going on in this town, even if you can’t convince the entire squad.” She laughed softly, moving to set her glass down by the sink and pick up her bag. “It’s getting late. I shouldn’t keep you up all night. But we should hang out again, now that I know I don’t have to watch what I say with you.” 

For a dead woman, Camille was pretty casual. Marley didn’t know what that experience was like, but she could understand wanting to make a normal life for yourself. “You really should quit the Cryptid Corner,” she said after a moment, but it was with a sly grin and not a judging one. “I heard that place is haunted.” Marley gave a sheepish shrug. “Well, glad I can help out, then. I’ll certainly do my best to keep this place clean, but White Crest is certainly a...dangerous place. Don’t um-- do anything to get yourself killed again, alright?” She started heading over towards the door with Camille. She wanted to quip about how the night was her time, but she kept her mouth shut for now. She’d already given away too much, and even if Camille had been more forthcoming with all this than she’d originally thought, she still felt exposed in some way. Even though Camille had spilled her entire story, Marley kept hers much closer to her chest. “Uh-- yeah,” she said, confused for a moment. People didn’t often ask to hang out with her again, let alone as just friends. Was this really how the world worked? She furrowed her brow. “Yeah, let’s do this again. Maybe with snacks next time, too.” That’s what people offered, right? She brushed the thought away. “And uh-- thanks for trusting me enough to tell me. You don’t have to worry, either. Your secret’s safe with me.” And if Camille turned on her somehow, it would make for some good blackmail. Not that she wanted that to happen. But old habits die hard.

Camille snorted out a laugh and shook her head, “the closest thing that place has ever gotten to haunted was the one time we had a possessed toilet. A nightmare to deal with but we’ve had nothing since. It’s too lame to haunt.” She nods, “yeah… Yeah I know this place can be a bit wild. Hell, when I woke up here people were being attacked by mimes, so.” It was almost scary how quickly she’d gotten used to it all, but maybe waking up dead could numb you to experiences like that a bit. “Trust me, I don’t have any plans to put myself in harm's way.”

It was true, she certainly wasn’t going to go looking for trouble. She’d even stopped walking around the forest at night, so things were looking up. Another friend who knew her secret, someone else to trust. Camille was sick of being lonely, see, she’d decided this life was going to have friends. “Right. I appreciate it. Enjoy the rest of your night, I’ll see ya.” She gave a cheery little wave before heading out the door, to return to her own home feeling a little more optimistic than the day before.

[inventors-fair]

Lyrical Poets

There was a pretty diverse set of musical interests represented in this competition - a wide variety of artists and genres, which definitely kept things from getting dull on my end. Without further ado, let’s jump on in!

@antmations​ - Erissa, Bog Witch

Flavour: Spooky big bog witch makes everybody feel like dying. I'm not sure it communicates why I'm better off that way, but I'm sure she knows what she's talking about. Mechanics: A deathtouch creature is already a pretty significant deterrant to attacking, so adding extra downsides makes it especially unattractive. Be careful with effects like this because they often put the opponent in a position where they feel they can't progress the game without dying, which just makes the gameplay grind to a halt. Templating/Nitpicks: Nope, nothin'. Overall: Bog Big witch energy.

Charmera - Bad Moon Risen

Flavour: I respect how literally you played into this, especially the references to old card names. Kudos. Mechanics: Obviously with taking things as literally as you did, the design kinda has to wind up all over the place. My biggest takeaway from this one is that it feels like it should be a Saga that just ticks up through the lines you're referencing. Templating/Nitpicks: On MTG.design, you can use asterisks (*) to drop bullet points into your modal effects. It's super convenient. Overall: The chorus of this song is commonly misheard as "There's a bathroom on the right." That would probably be harder to design. 

@corporalotherbear​ - Tranquility, the Trickster

Flavour: You chose a very simple effect which gave lots of room for flavour text. Just with the lines included I still don't totally understand the why, but it definitely conveys what's going on. Mechanics: This is repeatable removal, and pretty strong removal at that. Red is supposed to be weak against creatures with high toughness, but besides actual-factual walls this will generally circumvent that. Templating/Nitpicks: While a creature technically can fight itself, if you asked players what that means probably 9 out of 10 would get it wrong. The correct way to template this would probably be to just write out, "deals damage to itself equal to twice its power." Overall: It is a heck of a trick, tho.

@dabudder​ - Unbounded Truth

Flavour: The lyric you chose is really wholesome and pleasant. Revealing cards feels like "saying what we mean", though it fights the theme a bit that only our opponents get in on that action. Mechanics: Peek with some incidental lifegain tacked on sounds reasonable, I suppose. Control decks probably wouldn't mind knowing what answers they need to dig for while giving themselves more time to do so. Templating/Nitpicks: You're looking for "card", not "spell", and converted mana costs are "high" rather than "great". It probably comes out, "You gain life equal to the highest converted mana cost among cards revealed this way." Overall: Thanks for going to the trouble of submitting it until it went through. I expect next week to go a little smoother for you. 

@dim3trodon​ - Paladin of Silence

Flavour: The lyrics are pretty evocative, and I can imagine a paladin saying (or explicitly not saying?) exactly that line. Good choice to lean on the spell Silence to define what exactly that means. Mechanics: I'm not sure what's Blue about this one. Perhaps it was for the Flash, but it's worth noting that every color has access to Flash for effects that genuinely require it to work - this would be one of those. Templating/Nitpicks: Kudos on being careful around flicker effects, though also be wary when you have to do that. It can be a sign that the core effect isn't very fun. Overall: 

@dimestoretajic​ - Kawejitch, the Unrestrained

Flavour: Thanks for putting a face to the lyric that's been stuck in my head since my childhood. Only a little surprised that face has a trunk. Mechanics: This is functionally unblockable, but Mardu probably adds up to that. The rate could probably use some attention, as an 8/5 unblockable for six is better than anything that's been printed. Putting combat keywords on a creature that's nearly impossible to block feels like a miss; I think it's to really stick the "couldn't hold me back" thing, but I feel like super-menace delivered on that well enough. Templating/Nitpicks: I hope I'm not the only that gets unreasonably happy reading lines of text like this. Overall: I've been talking to myself out loud the whole time I've been typing this. 

@emmypupcake - Burden of Despair

Flavour: Between the art and the flavour text, I can certainly feel the despondency of the situation. Mood. Mechanics: This is reasonably flexible removal, getting rid of little dorks entirely and mosty disabling bigger ones. The power drop feels pretty irrelevant since the creature can't attack or block anymore, but I suspect it's just there for symmetry. Templating/Nitpicks: Yours is one of only a couple submissions that correctly represented both title and artist in the flavour text. I'll be clearer about it in the future, but gold star for you in the meantime. Overall: Bog Big mood.

@fractured-infinity​ - Erase From Time

Flavour: I'm not sure what the art is showing me, but the flavour text does more than enough to set the tone. Gone for good. Mechanics: This is quite the clever little innovation, a variation on White's more permanent exile removal that is relevant in multiplayer. I'm a little curious why it phases instead of exiling, since the nonlegendary clause means it wouldn't hit Commanders either way, and the two are equivalent in most other cases. Templating/Nitpicks: No need for hyphens in "nonland" and "nonlegendary". Overall: This is one of those moments where you come up with a cool concept, you develop an awesome design around it...and somehow that design just no longer fits that concept. The biggest thing keeping you out of the winner's circle this week was that your innovation played in the opposite direction of your theme by making the removal less permanent. Solid design work, though.

@gollumni​ - Guildless Anarchist

Flavour: I assume the flavour text is mostly connecting with the first ability. Some designs just need the added context of a set or cycle to really make sense, and that's okay. Mechanics: Part of me suspects the first ability is a little overcosted, because it doesn't actually net you a card - see Haunted Crossroads for reference. That said, the repeatable removal and/or Lava Axe of the third ability seems pretty strong to make up for it. Templating/Nitpicks: Magic is picky, so you only "return" cards to the battlefield or your hand; you'll just "put" this one where it goes. Also, you'll want to include "untapped" in the cost of the third ability; the rules don't strictly require it, but templating praxis does. Overall: "Slaughtermatic" is my new word of the day.

@hypexion​ - Ravenous Extraction

Flavour: I've never heard it, but even just reading it that flavour text seems catchy. It has a clear message, and the Treasure tokens have added meaning thanks to the "inheritance" line. Mechanics: This hearkens back to Squandered Resources, both mechanically and thematically. Moving it to Red is probably correct in the modern color pie, though admittedly I'm not sure at what rate either of these effects would be fair. Nyxbloom Ancient triples your mana more permanently for seven, so...maybe five is fine? Templating/Nitpicks: For poetry, line breaks are as much a part of the writing as the words. If it's not possible to fit with line breaks intact, you'll want to include slashes to indicate where they should be. Geist of the Moors is an example of what that looks like. Overall: I'm going to have to look up this song to see how close it sounds to how I'm reading it.

@ignorantturtlegaming​ - Angel's Song

Flavour: An angel's song is definitely magic-appropriate flavour, and has a lot of room for interpretation. "Eternal life" as doubling your life total makes sense, though the burn part feels more like punishing the gathering than calling it. Mechanics: Moving Sphinx's Revelation to sorcery speed does hurt its power level, though I'm not sure it does it enough to compensate for all the upsides this has. Having the option of using it as a sweeper is huge, and the life doubling on top of the first mode seems like it gets out of hand quickly. Templating/Nitpicks: Modal spells only really have their modes. If you want the conditional part to occur regardless of which mode you pick, the correct way to do that is to include it in both modes. I agree this feels weird. Overall: A song called The Gathering was such an apt choice, kudos.

@illharg-the-rave-boar​ - The Key and the Gate

Flavour: I'm definitely picking up the "thrall to Yog-Sothoth" feel. And the card is powerful enough that it communicates a sense of powerlessness against cosmic forces. Mechanics: This card is quite the beating, but I suppose three-color, seven-mana spells generally should be. This is a pretty clear 'game over' in most cases - unless your opponents have another source of cards, the fact you're stealing one each turn and doming them for 7 every time they whiff should end the game pretty quickly. Templating/Nitpicks: There are enough details of the lyrics that lend themselves to Magic vocabulary (rainbow, cascade, even walls) that I wish the design were a little more explicit, but I understand there's only so much room. Overall: Songs these days really have nothing on great old ones.

@khyrberos​ - Neutral Physician 

Flavour: Few things make me happier than "deniability" on a card that  literally denies an ability. This has a few different things going on, but they're all pulled reasonably well from the text you're referencing. Mechanics: All the different pieces of this card kinda drag it in different directions. While they're clearly pulled from the lyrics, they don't really create a unified mechanical identity, which makes it hard to imagine how a card like this should be used. Templating/Nitpicks: If you want it to counter death triggers, you can actually just do that. "Counter target triggered ability if a creature dying caused it to trigger" does what you want without the weird timing restriction. Overall: I think there's actually something here, it just needs a little polish.

@macaroni-and-squeez​ - Rising Form-Claimer

Flavour: Using the untap trigger to show the creature "woke up" that way is really clever. Mechanics: The delayed trigger feels a little hard to track, and I can't help but think there must be a simpler way to achieve a similar feel. I do like the fact that the tap in the cost of the ability sets up the untap trigger, which makes the design feel internally consistent. Templating/Nitpicks: There's a comma missing between your costs, and you probably mean to say "When CARDNAME becomes untapped during your next untap step," otherwise the trigger hangs around indefinitely and goes off every time it untaps. Overall: Is this thing skinless until you activate the ability? Oh no.

@machine-elf-paladin​ - Goblin Firework Festival

Flavour: This line feels so much like a goblin rhyme, I'm really pleased that you felt that in it too. The unpredictability of the end result, and flavour of blowing up your friends and fireworks feels very resonant. Mechanics: This is a finisher, with a pretty clear multiplayer leaning. I think in practice this would generally kill whichever player is at the lowest life total, encouraging them to sacrifice everything they have, in turn possibly killing another player and encouraging them to do likewise. While the effect feels fun to read, I'm not convined the actual gameplay would feel interesting most of the time. Templating/Nitpicks: Gold star for the use of slashes to indicate line breaks in your flavour text. Overall: I hope this song is as fun as this design implies it is.

@martian-june - Blood Pact

Flavour: Combining a group hug effect with a group slug effect to convey "friends who bleed" is pretty clever. Mechanics: This is an interesting combination of 'White' and Black effects. The card draw is something that Black can do at this rate, and the opponents drawing cards probably covers any cost of the life loss. I'm not sure precisely what deck is looking for the combination of these effects, but it's neat to see them done together. Templating/Nitpicks: I don't think there's any strong reason for the "if" clause, there are very few effects that would prevent that from happening anyway. Overall: I like centered cards too.

@milkandraspberry​ - Taunting Slander

Flavour: I can see how "stupid butt" might get one's hackles up. Them's fightin' words. Mechanics: A fight effect with a little extra reach seems sensible enough. You'll often lose your creature along with theirs, so it's a little bit like a Heartfire. Templating/Nitpicks: "...each get +1/-1..." is the template you're looking for. Apart from that, I'd just like to see the flavour and reminder text italicised - it subtly communicates that I should be reading it differently, which is surprisingly helpful. Overall: Not too strong, not too bad.

@misswamyn​ - Bardic Inspiration 

Flavour: I can definitely imagine how a great song could get your troops a-movin'. I do wish there was a little more to make me feel why this song has this effect, but the overall effect definitely makes sense. Mechanics: The biggest miss is that there's nothing particularly White about it. Otherwise, perfectly solid. Templating/Nitpicks: This is a really simple line of text that has apparently never appeared on a Magic card before. Those are always a treat. Overall: Makes me wonder what the actual greatest song ever would do.

@mistershinyobject​ - Ghastly Grasp

Flavour: Drain is definitely a classically Black way to illustrate the concept of touch. The impression I get is that the creature is the one overwhelmed by your touch, though I'm not sure I immediately connect with the "almost convinced me I'm real" line. That part seems especially poignant, so I'd love to see it show through in the mechanics. Mechanics: You expressed some concern over whether this was allowed in Black - personally, I don't think it's even a bend. Because Black can get full drain at roughly this rate, it certainly wouldn't be a break for it to get only half of that. Dealing damage without any lifegain would have to be a bend then, but this sets itself up to gain life almost every time it's used. I think you're fine. Templating/Nitpicks: Power seems like an odd choice over toughness, just because it feels like it's operating on an entirely different axis. Overall: Killing a Rampaging Ferocidon with this would be so satisfying.

@misterstingyjack​ - Keeper of the Fourth Mystery 

Flavour: I wouldn't have picked up on what this card's flavour text was saying without your explanation, though with the explanation I can pretty clearly see what motivated your decisions. Mechanics: Expanding your tutor effects is an interesting space to play in, I wonder if there's a good way to make it work. Templating/Nitpicks: Unfortunately, this template probably doesn't do it. I don't believe an effect can really look forward to see where the searched card is going to be put, and I'm not sure the search replacement would work as intended anyway. This is a tough templating challenge though, so I think this was a valiant effort. Overall: A honestly hope to see a more polished version of this in the future.

@morbidlyqueerious​ - Lethal Prominence 

Flavour: It works a little hard to convey its theme, but I think it gets there. Mechanics: You're right that it came out a little wordy, and I suspect there's probably a more elegant way to deliver on the notes this is trying to hit. I think it gets dragged in too many directions trying to incentivise everyone (the counters, the Gold, the attack requirement). That said, I do like where it's aiming. Templating/Nitpicks: Nothing stands out, which is good. Overall: This is exactly the kind of lyric I had in mind when I created this challenge.

@nine-effing-hells​ - The First Home of Crafters 

Flavour: It does do the work of tying Dwarves, Artifacts, and Artificers together thematically. Mechanics: Lands that tap for multiple mana are often a problem, and there are enough cheap artifacts that I would expect the other two types to be largey irrelevant. That deckbuilding restriction is a limitation, but history has shown that cheap artifacts tend to be good together without a lot of extra help. Templating/Nitpicks: You noted that the wording on the trigger is hard to follow, and I have to agree. I think it does function correctly though, so points for that. Overall: It's definitely a song.

@quillpaw​ - Mercury in Retrograde 

Flavour: It's hard for me to connect what the flavour text is telling me to the resulting effect, which is unfortunate because each of them seems cool on its own. Mechanics: This is definitely a variant of Kruphix that feels Red. I think it feels a bit bad that it costs so much, because by the time you can start holding onto your mana it's going to kill you pretty quickly trying to do so. I think the downside feels appropriate though. Templating/Nitpicks: Those are two different abilities, so they should be spaced a little differently. And generally you'll want quoted flavour text inside quotations marks. Overall: I still can't figure out if it's a friend or not.

@real-aspen-hours​ - South Wind 

Flavour: Cute to evoke the spell Hurricane for a song of the same name. The second half is...Shatterstorm, which I suppose is on the storm theme? Mechanics: Suspend is something we probably won't see much of soon, and this isn't the kind of effect that plays especially nicely with that mechanic. When your opponent knows a sweeper is coming, they just know not to play into it. Templating/Nitpicks: I put the card image together for you. I think I do good work. Overall: You've got at least three more winds to design now.

@reaperfromtheabyss​ - Question to the World 

Flavour: The design itself asks questions without answering them, which is kind of an interesting place for this to be. Mechanics: The coolest part of this design is that it asks your opponent whether they want to bother dealing with it (and giving you cards) or just letting it live as a minor inconvenience. This came close to winning, and my only problem with this design is that the combination of evasion and hexproof takes most of your opponent's ability to interact with it away, leaving that one interesting question pretty moot. Templating/Nitpicks: Cards would be exiled "with" it, not "by" it. Overall: Did they ever get an answer?

@scavenger98​ - Horizon's Turn 

Flavour: I definitely get the sensation of leaving the surface world behind and taking to the skies, which is a neat story. Mechanics: This a tough one. It's a six-mana (twelve, if you count the skipped untap) sorcery that can often do actual nothing depending on your opponent's deck. The frustrating part is that there's no real way to build around it, because it relies entirely on your opponent's things. Also, skipping untap steps is just rough. Templating/Nitpicks: Nope, nothing in particular. Overall: I feel like there's more story to this than I'm picking up on, and it genuinely makes me want to know more.

@shakeszx - Leave Breathless 

Flavour: The "doesn't untap" clause is normally used for ice effects, but I can see it being used for breathlessness. Adding the activated ability bit certainly sells it as something different. Mechanics: Split second isn't a favourite of mine, but I suppose it's there to make sure the activated ability line gets to do its thing. This is only moderately better than normal freeze effects, so I'm not sure the color-intensive cost is really necessary. Templating/Nitpicks: It's a little weird that the effects last for different periods. I'd probably just attach the activated ability limitation to "until it becomes untapped", as many activated abilities won't be usable until then anyway. Overall: That line is a pretty good choice, I gotta say.

@snugz​ - Caught in the Act 

Flavour: A song as well-known as this one is a bold choice because it comes with so many preconceptions. I'm not sure I'm picking up where all the different parts are fitting together thematically, and that could be part of it. Mechanics: This is some nifty little soft removal. It feels a bit like a Blue Stab Wound - most often, this will be used to immediately kill small opposing creatures (by leaving up a blocker big enough to eat it in combat), but occasionally it’ll be stuck on something harmless to achieve the recurring effect. In most cases, mill two each turn is not going to be too scary (and is even an upside at times), but in a mill deck every recurring source of mill is key. Templating/Nitpicks: Reimagining the artist of the song as a character was an interesting little addition. Overall: I would not be at all surprised to see something like this printed in an upcoming set.

@sorustyitshines - Fire-Forged Bond 

Flavour: This definitely conveys the theme of two creatures fighting and enduring hardships together. I feel like you have the space to do a little more to really sell the theme, but it's certainly clear from what you've got. Mechanics: This is an effect that doesn't exist yet, which means it's got that much going for it. I think the theme gives you space for a little more innovation than what you took advantage of; something like "those creatures gain indestructible for as long as you control both of them" is a slightly more unique space that leans a little harder into the story you're trying to tell. Templating/Nitpicks: The effect wants "each of two target creatures", otherwise it sounds like you're splitting the one counter between them. Overall: It probably doesn't need to be rare, but otherwise this is a very printable card.

@teaxch​ - Sink and Drown and Die 

Flavour: I had to actually listen to the song to piece together what was going on, as the flavour text only went so far. That said, aligning the three effects with the three verbs was really cleverly done. Mechanics: My only real qualm here is that your opponent makes all the decisions. This would probably be in the winners’ circle if you picked the three permanents and they picked what to do with them (a kind of Kiss, Marry, Kill effect). Templating/Nitpicks: The existing templating looks perfect, so instead let's imagine the Kiss, Marry, Kill version: "Choose three nonland permanents controlled by the same player. That player returns one of them to its owners hand, puts another on top of its owner library, and sacrifices the rest." Overall: Just hoping the flavour text wasn't aimed at me.

@tmstage​ - The Lone Digger Club

Flavour: You were correct in assuming I'd seen the video, so I did have a sense of what was going on here. That said, I warned that the card was the context I was most interested in, and it doesn't serve to communicate all of that itself. Mechanics: This is a really cute way to evoke the effect you were going for. Forced blocks (and attacks, for that matter) can be done within Blue, and the aggressive feeling definitely justifies the Red inclusion. Templating/Nitpicks: Nowadays attack restrictions refer to "combat" rather than "turn", so that it's clear how they interact with multiple combat phases. Overall: The purple art on a Blue-Red card is so satisfying.

@whuh-oh​ - The Demon Within 

Flavour: I can see how each of part of the lyric is supposed to correspond to one of the activated abilities, though it's not immediately obvious which effect is which line. Mechanics: Free mana is often very strong, and being able to turn 2 life into three mana each turn feels strong - I suppose it's only a turn sooner than Gilded Lotus with a higher color requirement, but it's also a lot more flexible than that. The fact that the third ability doesn't seem to interact with the other two makes it feel a little out-of-place, especially since three abilities and the activation restriction means you could pretty easily have them work cyclically (i.e., have the last ability read "BBB: You gain 2 life."). Templating/Nitpicks: You'll want it to read "only once each turn", because templates. Overall: Form of the Demon is a pretty neat idea.

@wolkemesser​ - Memnarch's Manic Plan 

Flavour: The strongest flavour points for this card go to the fact that it makes you think like the character; you immediately start to imagine the payoffs for doing the thing, and the costs just become an afterthought. I think that was really cleverly done. Mechanics: The biggest obstacle is that this is a bit of a one-card combo. As long as your deck has any game-winning combo somewhere in it, you just build up a lot of permanents and play this, hoping to draw into your combo and immediately have the mana to play it out. Either you succeed and win on the spot, or you don't and your opponent picks you apart while you try to piece things back together. It's possible this gives you enough resources when it works not to immediately fold to pressure, but if that's the case there's just not much risk to playing it after all. Templating/Nitpicks: Looks like you missed the word "cards" after "draw X", otherwise you're golden. Overall: I was really pleased to see Memnarch show up on this, thanks for that.

--

That’s our feedback this week - I wanted to get it out of the way so that you all could focus on @teaxch​‘s challenge starting today. Thank you all again for letting me share one of my favourite design exercises with you, and I hope that some of you will keep it in mind the next time you’re struggling to nail an idea down.

Until next time,

~Mod [ @3smuth​ ]

[cruddyborderlandstheories]

THE SEEIN’ DEAD MOD IS A BAND-AID FIX

gearbox locked zane’s lazy fix behind a paywall

tl;dr: for the love of god, the seein’ dead class mod should be what the seein’ red capstone is and vice versa. also. MORE SYNERGY. also i redesigned all of Zane’s trees and augments for more synergy you’re welcome.

is 1am and i don’t want tomorrow and im angry and thinking about borderlands so this seems like the perfect time to immerse myself in remaking Zane’s skill trees (for the 5th time). mainly because some of zane’s skills are still irking me and i’ve written extensive essays for the bl3 subreddit about the seein’ dead class mod and just playing around with zane’s skills in general, but i don’t think i’ve ever posted here before about it. so here we are. i notice i usually save lore/theories/characterizations for this blog and meta/balancing/gear talk for reddit. not sure why that’s a split for me. 

now i’ve remade zane’s skills a number of times, but honestly this was all before the seein’ dead mod was released. then, instead of fixing his skill trees, i wrote a lot of essays about why that mod was a terrible bad decision on gearbox’s part (you can read one of the shorter arguments in a comment from 5 months ago here). I’m just gonna remake the skill trees now with all his current abilities in mind.this post really should be titled: ALL THE PROBLEMS WITH THEIR BALANCING DECISIONS

so imma just talk for a bit about why i love/hate the seein’ dead class mod. 

Obviously it’s a god tier mod, and you see almost no zane builds without it, and no top tier, can solo m10 true takedown builds without it (unless ur like, the 1% of masochistic players, in which case i salute you). and while that obviously means its a good mod, it also shows the problems with all his other class mods and his skill trees in general.

They all kinda suck. and that wouldn’t be a problem, bc, hey, the seein’ dead mod is ez to get, just pop on over to the casino and kill a few baddies and they’ll  drop like candy. Which is really awesome!

slight problem.

the dlc is locked behind a PAYWALL

now this is a problem because if zane was a top tier character BEFORE the dlc, and everything was hunky dory and people weren’t on their knees begging for gearbox to fix Zane, then him getting a new badass class mod wouldn’t be such a big deal. but the problem was this was gearbox’s solution to giving Zane a buff.

they literally locked a buff for a character behind a pay wall.

I recommend Zane is every single person I try to convince to play bl3, but i always have to add this like, commercial-esque asterisk. you know, terms and conditions or, side effects or whatever. *you probably want to get the seein’ dead mod if you’re looking at end-game play because unless you wanna struggle that’s his only viable play style.

what if they don’t want to buy the dlc?! for real...

There’s also the point that this class mod makes his (arguably) BEST capstone obsolete. so we have distributed denial which literally no one uses because its broken, double barrel which is always traded for seein’ red or more points in other skills, and seein’ red, WHICH WAS MADE USELESS BY THIS CLASS MOD

gsfdhjikdhgdaskjfhgaskdfjh

okay and it wouldn’t even be so bad

IF THEY DIDN’T CHANGE HIS ENTIRE SKILL SET BEFORE RELEASE

like they lowered ALL his kill skills, then they turned Seein’ Red into his capstone instead of Death Follows Close, meaning they nerfed Death Follows Close so it could fit as just a game changer. my poor boy was g u t t e d.

so, imagine this, everyone is reaching the end-game content of bl3. it’s a month or 2 weeks or whatever after the game dropped and people are finally hitting level 50. and moze/fl4k/amara are all killin’ it, and the zane players have to work their ASSES off to do like... 50% of that damage output (now, they did also eventually nerf the crap outta moze and fl4k but the point stands). 

so instead of gearbox going: “oh... shit that pre-release nerf was an awful idea, revert the changes guys” they decided to keep him gutted and then they released what was, in my opinion, a kick in the nuts with the maliwan takedown (aka the antifreeze mod, alongside the spiritual driver) ahahahahahaha. what good times it was. (I say this sarcastically.) 

man i remember people were soooo livid with that class mod release. well, both of them. zane mains were pissed off (for good reason). “yes, let’s make the people who are begging for a straight damage increase jump through MORE hoops (LITERALLY) for a pitiful amount of damage. oh, also, let’s give their 28 skill point build to the strongest character in the game for free and also make it 10x better”. because it was 10x better than violent momentum (driver didn’t have a damage cap) until they fixed both the spiritual driver and the violent momentum skill. it was the worst of times.

i will note here they did, around this time, let zane have stackable kill skills, but it was only 2 stacks and also it was still *incredibly* difficult to achieve stacks because zane just. struggled to kill anything. I still remember when i grinded the shit outta an antifreeze class mod and it took me over 20 minutes to kill Wotan my first time solo on m4. Not the fight UP to wotan. literally. just killing wotan.

then the seein’ dead mod dropped and i had. a fuckin. 15 minute decrease to my time on killing wotan (5 minutes!!!!). now i am not perfect, and i 100% believe i could’ve lowered the time even more. but that... that shows a VERY CLEAR problem.

they never actually fixed zane, they gave him a class mod that’s stupid OP just to make sure he could hang on next to the other Vault Hunters. it’s just a bandaid fix. you remove the class mod, and he’s back to pre-jackpot power levels (which will NOT hold up at m10, let me tell you). 

all his pre-jackpot problems are still here, and that’s why people are not using any other class mod of his. I bet we could have some really fun builds with the conductor mod! but nobody will ever use it because it’s just... not even close to the seein’ dead mod.

So what does the seein’ dead mod do that makes Zane so good?

IT BRINGS HIM BACK TO PRE-RELEASE VALUES

this mod, plus Death Follows Close, brings Zane back to pre-release zane. and i don’t understand how gearbox isn’t putting two and two together and going “Oh.”

it also is a BETTER VERSION of Seein’ Red!!! something players could have had at, like, level 15, but instead had to wait until they hit a capstone! the capstone is completely obsolete at this point. There is nothing seein’ red can give you that seein’ dead doesn’t do but better. Getting that capstone is a w a s t e of skill points.

AND they locked this fix behind a pay wall!!! i cannot say that enough. you don’t wanna get the handsome jackpot dlc?? guess u don’t wanna play zane at endgame then. too bad, so sad.

have i stated that enough? because it still blows my fuckin mind. THEY LOCKED A CHARACTER FIX BEHIND A PAYWALL

djhdgakjhakjdah. imagine playing without any prior knowledge and being like, aw man i love this zane character. can’t wait to get to max mayhem end game like all my favorite youtubers and friends!! then finding out you gotta drop 15 bucks or whatever it is just to actually be able to play at max mayhem level. that is not a skill difference, that is A BALANCING PROBLEM MY DUDES. like. my favorite zer0 build was still viable without the story DLCs. obviously grog > rubi, pimp > lyuda, rapier > law but, it was still fuckin viable.

guh. gufhgufhsdgkfjsdh. it bothers me.

ok so there’s a lot i just went over: my main issue? is that by making Seein’ Red a capstone, they did nothing to make it an actual legit capstone. They definitely nerfed Death Followed Close to make it a gamechanger, but they never gave Seein’ Red a buff to move it from a gamechanger to a capstone. It was the same exact skill. Seein’ Dead is what Seein’ Red SHOULD be and that’s what angers the crap outta me. they locked this obvious fix behind a pay wall (AND a gear slot!!!!!) n ur probably thinking ‘but cruddy this WAS really nice of them to try and fix zane... they could’ve just let him be suuc’ and like, yeah, they could’ve, and it is good they’re TRYING, but also, they’re leaving the people who DON’T buy the DLC high and dry.

keep in mind i DO own the dlc. have the season pass and everything. IM STILL MAD!!!

Zane should be strong no matter what class mod the players want to use. Same with Amara, same with Moze, same with Fl4k. FFS, it is not that hard. CHANGE THEIR SKILLS!!!!!

so im gonna be taking the time to go over all of zane’s skills and shit just to put him more on par with the others (WITHOUT THE SEEIN’ DEAD MOD)

imagine the seein’ dead mod doesn’t exist for this. we’re gonna make a balanced character since apparently THAT’S TOO HARD FOR A TRIPLE-A BALANCING TEAM

first things first, the tree with the most fuckin problems: 

Under Cover

oh god this tree is a fucking train wreck what the hell were they thinking. good god. my eyes. they’re burning.

not actually, but it still kinda sucks.

Action Skill: Barrier is fine. I would not add the ‘picking it up decreases benefits’ when Zane’s whole schtick is running around fast. You get the full bonus no matter what form it’s in. also, you can hold down the action skill activation button to deploy the barrier directly on yourself.

Tier 1: Hearty Stock is a trap. never get this. so dumb. no synergy with his other skills. Adrenaline is okay, but not really great during end game. Ready For Action is similarly okay. Just a very MEH start to this tree. 

Adrenaline: Zane gains increased Action Skill Cooldown Rate. 10% per level, up to 50%. this shouldn’t be tied to his shields being full because if your barrier is down (cooling DOWN)... your shield is taking damage. c’mon now. THINK GEARBOX T H I N K

Hearty Stock: (maxed) Zane and his clone gain 5% magazine regeneration while an action skill is active. This skill stacks. In it’s original state, this skill is such a trap skill. for real.

Ready For Action: i mean, it’s fine. We’ll keep it. +30% shield recharge rate and -29% (why????) recharge delay

Tier 2: ech. Stiff Upper Lip is not that good. Brain freeze is what u really want. Rise to the Occasion is also okay.

Brain Freeze: keep the same.

Stiff Upper Lip: when Zane is damaged with a hit that would break his shield, he gains (max) +20% bonus gun damage on his next shot through the barrier.

Rise to the Occasion: Zane and his clone gain health regeneration. +5% max health/s. Not determined by shield availability.

Tier 3: `screams in confident competence` oh lawd. this skill is good. the accuracy thing is kinda laughable. i tell you, i always thought that zane was originally meant to be the sniper with the Under Cover tree but they decided to swap Zane and Fl4k’s skills. which is why Zane has soooo many accuracy buffs.

Confident Competence: fine the way it is. I would also add, since this IS a game changer, that the Barrier’s damage amp is now 40%.

Tier 4: ew. tier 4. Really Expensive Jacket is literally the only skill you might want to get and EVEN THEN. ugh. Best Served Cold is so pointless. and so is Futility Belt. YOU TAKE MORE DAMAGE WITH IT

Really Expensive Jacket: Elemental Status Effects have reduced duration (-50%). Additionally, Zane is not slowed by Cryo anymore.

Best Served Cold: Remove the cooldown. Buff up the damage at least 200%. Make it an AOE Brain Freeze. That is, the cryo novas stack and if overkill damage is high enough, enemies hit with the novas freeze. Kinda like a discount Frozen Heart.

Futility Belt: HA. Ahahahahaha. Ha. Zane gains resistance to non-elemental and cryo damage (+15%). Futhermore, after killing an enemy, Zane’s barrier gains additional cryo damage (+20%) for 8s.

Tier 5: is oki. My only real complaint is with Nerves of Steel. Like. Seriously.

Refreshment: god tier skill actually. Keep the same.

Best Served Cold: also keep the same. The only change I will make is this: resetting your action skills’ cooldowns counts as action skill start and end.

Nerves of Steel: The longer Zane’s barrier is active, the more stacks of Nerves of Steel he gains (a maximum of 15). For each stack, Zane gains 2% shock damage, 2% cryo efficiency, and 1% damage to frozen enemies. (why shock damage? cryo doesn’t do well against shields.)

Tier 6: *cries in the worst capstone in the entire series* WHO DID THIS. WHY. WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU???

Distributed Denial: no. just. no. scrap this whole damn thing. IT DOESN’T EVEN WORK!!!! either fix it COMPLETELY or do something else. My recommendation? Whenever Zane throws down his barrier, his shield instantly begins recharging. If Zane’s shield is already full or recharging, enemies with no shields (or freeze immunity) that touch Zane’s Barrier for the next 10s are instantly frozen.

Augments: why the hell do i gotta place my barrier down when my entire fuckin’ character is about RUNNING. ALSO JUST AS A BLANKET STATEMENT: ALL THESE AUGMENTS WORK 100% EVEN IF HIS BARRIER IS PICKED UP. SO DUMB. a fully pointless restriction.

that last sentence immediately fixes Charged Relay and Nanites or Some Shite.

Redistribution: If his shields are full, Zane can sacrifice 50% of his shields to have his next shot deal 100% bonus cryo damage by holding F.

All-Rounder: Fine as is. Only thing I would add: whenever Zane melees an enemy, his shields are drained by 50% and his sliding augment is added to the melee attack.

Deterrence Field: Fine as is. But! I would add: whenever Zane sprints into an enemy, his shields are drained by 50% and slam augment is activated.

THAT WAY we can have both slam/sliding relics actually DO SOMETHING. because my god they’re so useless rn.

alright, moving on.

Hitman

Tier 1: is okay. nobody ever takes cold bore. ever.

Violent Speed: fine as is, but we’re taking it back to pre-release values. Max: 30%. can stack 2x.

Cold Bore: Zane gains (max) 20% bonus cryo damage to all shots fired while moving.

Violent Momentum: fine as is, but taking it back to pre-release values. 30% gun damage at default walk speed. Additionally, Zane can now shoot while sprinting.

Tier 2: my boy zoomer needs more fun.

Cool Hand: fine as it is. I would buff his base reload speed up to 20% and kill skill reload to 20% as well. 17 and 13 are such weird numbers.

Drone Delivery: fine as it is. Additionally, Zoomer’s base shots now take on the element of Zane’s grenade mod.

Salvation: fine as it is. I won’t mess with this bc life steal is messy business (coughs in grog)

Tier 3: hhhynf.fdsg. 

Death Follows Close: Kill Skill Bonus: +30%. Kill Skill Time: +7s. Additionally, enemies targeted by Zoomer take 5% more damage from Zane.

Tier 4: these two skills are actually p dope by themselves. it can stay as it is. I would MAYBE increase the violent violence max buff up to 20% but that’s just me.

Tier 5: ahahahaha. this skill. just remember, we’re pretending Seein’ Dead doesn’t exist, so imagine how this skill looks next to calm cool n collected. so pointless.

Good Misfortune: Killing an enemy with a critical hit adds (max) 10% efficiency to Zane’s kill skills for 8s. This does not stack.

Tier 6: WE’RE GONNA MAKE YOU RELEVANT AGAIN BOO HANG IN THERE

Seein’ Red: Zane has a (4%) chance to activate his kill skills upon dealing gun damage to an enemy. Additionally, enemies targeted by Zoomer now take 15% more damage from Zane.

so why didn’t we make good misfortune the infinite action skill build?? BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT CCnC IS SUPPOSED TO DO!!! why have 2 skills that do the exact same thing AT THE EXACT SAME TIER except ONE IS OBJECTIVELY WORSE!!!!!

what happens to the Seein’ Dead class mod if we’re giving its perk to this capstone? I’m so glad you asked. “Zane activates his kill skills when activating his action skills. Additionally, the kill skills activated this way have 15% more efficiency”. look how much better balanced that is!!!! that’s a class mod!!!!!!!!

Augments: these aren’t THAT bad, but they could be a lot better.

Winter’s Drone: Zoomer gains 20% bonus cryo damage to all shots.

Bad Dose: pump these numbers up. Fire Rate: +7% per affected enemy. Movement Speed: +10% per enemy. everything else is fine.

Boomsday: just make this more beefy. fr. It’d be a good choice if it were stronger.

Static Field: also fine. I would again give it better damage output, but that’s just me.

Almighty Ordnance: remove the build up honestly. Like i get the vibe and it’s really cool, but in combat it just DOESN’T WORK. maybe if Zoomer is targeting an enemy, he will unleash the missiles if they are above 50% health after 30s or something. I honestly think these should have a debuffing factor instead of a damage factor (you know, to not get in the way of boomsday). maybe something around 15%? the 1x per action skill activation thing would be easily subverted with CCnC with the changes we suggested, so it could work. 

Doubled Agent

ahhh, Blane. Blue Zane. Love ya, buddy. One change: he prioritizes pinged targets. That way you can kinda get him to fight specific people. Also, lower the teleportation timer. pls.

Tier 1: actually p good. could be better, but its not bad.

Synchronicity: Zane gains 20% bonus damage per active action skill. While Zane has an action skill active, he gains a stack of Synchronicity. Max Stacks: 10. For each stack of Synchronicity, Zane gains 5% Action Skill Cooldown Rate and 2% Action Skill Damage.

Praemunitus: Zane and his digiclone gain (max) 30% magazine size.

Borrowed Time: For each action skill active, Zane gains 30% action skill duration. The longer Zane’s action skills are active, he and Blane gain a higher Fire Rate and faster Reload Speed, up to 20%. (the idea is you choose between this or synchronicity bc... either permanent action skills build or fast paced action skills build)

Tier 2: Donnybrook is fun. Fractal Frags is fun. Duct tape mod is a GODDAMN DISAPPOINTMENT

Donnybrook: fine as it is. I might buff the max numbers up to 20% gun damage and 3% health regen. But that’s really it.

Fractal Frags: Blane will periodically toss a grenade from Zane’s stockpile at his targeted enemy (cooldown: 20s). Kill Skill: Blane has a 45% chance to throw a free grenade.

Duct Tape Mod: this skill... why... No cooldown. NONE. Zane has a 1% chance to also fire a grenade from his gun. Kill Skill: This is increased to 15% for 8s (stays at 1% for the whole time, but the kill skill will increase by 3% for each tier)

Tier 3: Actually Quick Breather is one of my favorite skills. this can stay.

Quick Breather: Same as is. Additionally, Zane and his clone gain 25% Gun Damage after swapping places for a short time (8s).  I really wanna promote swapping places. It’s really underutilized. they’ve ADDED stuff to this skill already!!! even tho it didn’t work until the next patch. BUT THEY SHOW ITS POSSIBLE TO ADD TO SKILLS!!!

Tier 4: actually a really good tier. a few minor changes. 

Pocket Full of Grenades: Kill Skill: Zane gains (max) 15% grenade regeneration for 8s. If Zane’s grenades are full, any excess grenades are shot from his gun with 25% bonus damage.

Old-U: If Zane falls into FFYL while his digiclone is active, he can press the action skill activation key to destroy his clone and gain a second wind. When he does this, he takes the place of his clone. His clone will also drop a grenade when it is destroyed.

Supersonic Man: Zane gains increased movement speed for each active action skill: (max) 15% each. Additionally, teleportation is considered to be Zane’s maximum speed for its duration and 5s after. 

Tier 5: oh god oh fuck oh god.

Like a Ghost: Oh god why. Zane and his digiclone gain a (max) 15% chance to ignore all damage while teleporting and for 7s after.

Boom. Enhance: actually a pretty swell skill. I would probably add Health Regen +3% per grenade tho. Blane needs help a lot.

Trick of the Light: bring back the shock damage. Zane deals 40% bonus shock damage for 7s after swapping places with his clone.

Tier 6: oh ngl I actually love this capstone lol

Double Barrel: Zane’s digiclone gains a copy of Zane’s current gun when it is deployed (and all the anointments work and he actually fires it like a reasonable person). Zane’s clone now deals damage equal to Zane’s base weapon damage. Upon swapping places, both Zane and his digiclone deal 50% bonus damage for 7s.

Augments: 

Binary System: is okay. Kinda uhhh underwhelming tho. Buff up the damage and also maybe reduce teleportation time.

Schadenfreude: I like this one a lot. Zane’s shield is restored by 100% of the damage his digiclone takes and vice versa.

Dopplebanger: lower the waiting time. I get that u don’t wanna override the teleportation, but it’s really annoying. Buff damage and don’t make it dependent on action skill duration. If this explosion kills an enemy, the clone is reactivated with 50% action skill duration.

Which One’s Real?: I’ve never actually felt this work. Maybe for like 2 seconds? Make it work more like Zer0′s hologram or Timmy’s Jack clones or smth. Maybe give an activation cue? im v lost with this one. Enemies targeting Zane take 30% more damage from the digiclone.

Digital Distribution: 75% of the health damage Zane takes is distributed to his clone instead. The digiclone gains 5% Health Regeneration/s and sends out 3 [level specific damage] shock spikes to enemies that attack it. 

literally all Zane needs is SYNERGY. if they can change a few skills, pump up a few numbers, and ffs fix the seein’ red/dead capstone/mod, they’d be in FUCKIN BUSINESS

but no instead

THEY LOCKED THE BUFF BEHIND A PAYWALL.

WHYYYYYY

[nishaapologist]

Double Triple Bossy Deluxe (Fallout 3, First Sentinel AU)

“Wait. Wait, wait… the fry cook thing isn’t a joke?!”

About a month (and a bit) after Sarah’s moved into Rookie’s house and home in Megaton, her arrival marked by her just about dragging her own body through the gates to throw herself at their doorstep, Rookie’s pleased to be able to say that it’s been working out pretty well! Or, at least, as well as could be expected when none of this was planned in advance. Sarah’s still struggling to adapt to the otherwise mundane, small-town life that’s been summarily thrust upon her after… well, after the whole nearly died like seven times thing that Rookie doesn’t like to think about, and she’s not used to living in such a small space. Seriously, she nearly knocks herself blind every time she forgets she has to duck her head as she goes down the staircase. Still, they’re making do, figuring it out together… and since they’re, like, dating now, or whatever, Rookie’s happy that it’s all falling into place, even if it’s a little on the haphazard side.

But there’s still surprises to be had, and when Rookie manages to trade for some fresh meat and announces they’re gonna make Sarah one of their famous Vault burgers, she laughs right up until Rookie reveals they were a fry cook. No, for real.

“Yeah?” Rookie answers, bemused, as Sarah squints over to them like she’s suddenly turned very shortsighted.  “I told you! That's what I did!”

Sarah’s nose scrunches up, all the scars on her face pulling taut. “Yeah, but… I thought it was just a really long-winded joke. Like, making up a dumb fact about yourself because we surface-dwellers don’t know any better, y’know?”

Rookie’s not sure how it ever seemed that way, but they did (and do) say a lot of stupid shit when they thought they could get away with it — like saying that they got meat in the Vault by grinding up an unwilling sacrifice every week, or that drinking one’s own piss was a delicacy, or that some Vaulties were so obsessed with the artificial lights that they became like moth people, lured in the direction of a bright torch or flash of a gun’s muzzle. It was fun to make a spectacle of it, if only because the truth was so much more boring, only ever turning interesting to talk about when Rookie’s own life was on the line.

And the fact their GOAT-mandated job was as a fry cook in an old diner nobody ever used any more? Well, that was something that landed right in the boring category, so Rookie had never joked about it... but clearly it’s just about as believable as the rest of the stories.

“Well, bad news; it’s very real,” Rookie replies with a shrug, standing over the shabby kitchen counter shunted in one corner as they shape a series of patties. They don’t need as many as they’re making between them, but that’s ‘cause everything extra is going to get sold to The Brass Lantern, since Jenny’s always asking for them to spice up the menu somehow. She’d believed Rookie was a fry cook from the moment they’d told her, if only because Rookie had gone around to help fix their fryers one time and showed an absolutely stoic response to scalding-hot splatters of oil. “And even though the Overseer was a prick about hating me, everyone liked my burgers, so everyone liked me.” 

Rookie pauses for a moment, hands slowing as they roll out a ball of minced meat. “Or, maybe they liked that I remembered all their orders by heart. Even Mr. Brotch— uh, my teacher in the Vault, he made a joke about remembering his order when I got my results. Hold the mustard, extra pickles.”

Sarah’s got an expression on her face that says she doesn’t believe any of this, which Rookie supposes makes sense when you consider the sort of life she’d had — a career soldier in the rough-and-tumble wasteland, coming to age with laser fire over her head and earning battle scars. She wasn’t taking weird tests in the safety of a hole in the ground, or complaining when she had to wake up early for an apprenticeship to her new career that she’d be the sole caretaker of at the age of eighteen; Sarah had been clambering up the precarious Brotherhood ranks, fighting off an unholy amount of enemies whilst learning how to command her own squad and accidentally get a Med-X addiction and maintaining suits of Power Armor and laser rifles and— well, Rookie could go on. Sarah’s not anything like them, which is good, because that’s why they like Sarah.

And all the while they’ve been stood there, thinking, Sarah’s gotten up from one of the (several) ratty old sofas that Rookie’s dragged into their house over the months, dusting herself off before stepping up right behind them to loom over their shoulder, looking at their mess of a kitchen counter. God, even when they live together, Rookie somehow manages to forget that Sarah’s built like a shit brickhouse.

“Bizarre,” she finally says, dryly, her smile wry. “And you weren’t coaching the baseball team… how, again?”

Rookie scowls down at that. Truth be told, it was a bit of a sore spot back when sore spots were just emotional and not the sort that left very real scars behind, but honestly? They’re still kinda mad about it! “Apparently, my mediocre throwing arm was very damning. Didn’t matter that I could basically deflect bullets with my bat, noooooo; I needed to also be able to throw a baseball at a one-centimeter-square target across the atrium blindfolded, backwards, and shitfaced.”

There’s a brief snort before Sarah dissolves into laughter, rumbling right through the height of her, and the little sting of resentment Rookie still felt — to the Overseer, no doubt, who’d probably pulled strings to make sure Rookie never got to do the thing they were actually good at — melts away in favour of something awed, staring up at how Sarah’s green eyes sparkle. Rookie’s not seen many trees in their life, since DC’s still too much of a bomb-churned wasteland to facilitate many of them, but they like to think they must all look a lot like Sarah’s eyes, shifting between light and dark in the brightness of the sun.

“You—” they start, and then stumble, because their mind really isn’t in the right gear at present. “Can, uh... can we kiss?”

The words fall right out of their mouth before they have the sense to plug the hole, and they blush furiously when they realise that wasn't really the sentence they’d planned to ask. Actually, Rookie’s not sure what they were going to say, because Sarah’s very distracting. All the time.

But Sarah doesn’t even look very surprised — instead, she just smiles a little wider, brows knitting in curiosity. “I mean, you don’t have to ask. You can kiss me whenever.”

“Yeah, but—” Rookie has to stop for a moment, because their gaze is currently darting around wildly, looking at anything that isn’t Sarah’s pretty eyes and her handsome face. “I kinda gotta? Your mouth is, like, miles away from me.”

Sarah huffs out another breath of laughter at that, but Rookie doesn’t even have time to be offended by their own observation before she leans down to press a kiss to their lips, having to stoop under the brim of their cap to reach. It’s never as electric as books and films say it is, but instead it fills Rookie with a tingling sort of warmth that wipes away just about every thought they’ve ever had, and they nearly drop their handful of mince on the floor as Sarah pulls back, looking down at them with a thoughtful look.

“You’re right,” she concludes after a second. “You are miles away. It’s like trying to give a molerat a kiss.”

Rookie just glares as she starts to laugh again, and boy would she be regretting saying that if she wasn’t wearing steel-toed boots around the house! “Oh yeah? Well, trying to kiss you is like tryna kiss a super mutant. Maybe even a behemoth, if they had hair.”

At that, Sarah’s eyes go wide, and for the fraction of a second, Rookie actually worries they’ve offended her. Well, that is, until she opens her mouth again. “Wow, you’ve tried? Know thy enemy, I guess.”

Two days later, when Sarah’s complaining about the bruise that’s bloomed across her shin, Rookie doesn’t apologise even once. But that’s okay. It got her closer for kisses for a whole minute, at least.

[here4theheartbreak]

Vacation Heat (OT7 abo)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Hoseok x Jimin x Jin x Jungkook x Namjoon x Taehyung x Yoongi (ot7) Genre(s): smut

Written for @btspolyshipbingo Square Filled: Hair Pulling

Tags: smut, pwp, ABO verse, omegaverse, heats, knotting, ruts, slick, dirty talk, established relationship, group sex, coming untouched, multiple orgasms, rough sex, hair pulling, oral sex, bareback, omega!Jin, omega!Jimin, omega!Jungkook, omega!Taehyung, Alpha!Namjoon, Alpha!Yoongi, Alpha!Hoseok, bottom!Jin, bottom!Taehyung, top!Jimin, top!Hoseok, top!Yoongi, switch!Namjoon, switch!Jungkook

Summary: Jin is in heat and needs a little help. Unfortunately his heat triggers those of his lovers, requiring a little more help than planned. Word Count: ~3.3k

A/N: Fulfills 2 requests I got (forever ago – thanks for being patient). One was ABO with omega!Jin going into heat and some of the others help him out. The second was omega!vocal line, one in heat and the other three helping to have their own heats triggered, and needing help from the Alphas of the group.

A/N2: This is a somewhat subverted and altered omegaverse than what a lot of you might be used to for mxm fiction. Though some traditional bits remained – heats, knots, etc. I have twisted or removed some of the other ‘traditional’ bits (mpreg, sex crazed, submissive omegas, etc). Because some of these elements have always made me itch (even though I did spend a good year or so writing this trope for another fandom), I took this as an opportunity to try to alter some of those things while still staying true to what ABO was at its core. I hope it’s still enjoyable to those of you that read it! And if you’re curious about the rules in this newish ‘verse I put together, feel free to ask! I’ve got a whole mess of rules and traits written up just in case I ever decide to or get asked to write ABO again.

Jin groaned, burrowing his head further under the blanket when the door opened.

“Hyung?” Jungkook’s voice was gentle. Jin groaned again.

“It hit you hard, huh? I knew it was a bad idea to take you off the pills.”

Jungkook crawled into the bed. He placed a cool pack against Jin’s flushed neck, and a warm one on his side.

“I hate this. I’d forgotten what a bitch this was.”

“How can I help?”

“You know you can’t.” Jin huffed.

“Well... I could order some food. Jimin-hyung and Taehyungie-hyung are almost home too... We could try to help.”

Jin smiled against his arm. “Help me? Or are you just a horny too?” He teased. Jungkook laughed, nuzzling Jin’s shoulder.

“Both. Could help though.” Jungkook began to massage Jin’s tense back muscles.

Jin groaned softly, rolling more into his stomach to let Jungkook work. Jungkook slid his hands over Jin’s lower back. Jin whined in response.

Though heats weren’t too intense for an omega not on medication, omega idols were required to take hormone restricting medications most of their careers. Once every three years they were removed from the medication to allow their heats. A month off every three years was far preferred in the life to a week off every three months. And with the medications it could be controlled to align with time off already scheduled. Idols in the past had had entire comebacks ruined because of uncontrolled heats.

It was vacation for Bangtan, which meant their four omegas were taken off their medication and nature allowed to run its course.

Unfortunately, Jin had opted to remain on his medication both times the others had gone off theirs, wanting to use the vacation time to practice, and to be sure he was in the right mindset if they needed him. Which only meant this heat was nearly triple the intensity.

So there he was, curled up in bed with body aches from hell and a desperate need for an orgasm that he just couldn’t manage to get to himself.

Jungkook’s hands were firm and steady working his muscles loose and warming his body. His fingers brushed over the waistband of Jin’s boxers. When Jin said nothing, Jungkook pushed them down, exposing the swell of his ass. He squeezed Jin’s ass gently before spreading him open. “You’ve been trying, huh?” He asked, brushing his thumb over Jin’s swollen, wet rim. Jin whimpered, nodding.

“Why are you so stubborn? You know we’d help.”

“Your heats haven’t started yet.”

“So? We don’t have to be on it to make love to you. Lemme try to help.”

Jin nodded, too sore to resist, not that he wanted to. It wasn’t that heats with no sex were particularly dangerous. Sex just helped relax some of the muscles that were constantly cramping, and soothe some of the aches that came up. And at this point Jin would be desperate enough to try anything, even if he and Jungkook weren’t already dating.

Jungkook pushed two fingers in easily, scissoring them and rubbing gently over Jin’s swollen prostate. Jin whined again, shuddering. “Don’t tease, I’m loose enough.”

“I’m not. Relax. I just had to be sure.” Jungkook leaned over, kissing along Jin’s back and shoulders. He undid his pants and kicked them off, stroking himself to full hardness.

“Ready?”

Jin nodded, hugging the pillow under his head and chest. He pushed his ass back, another shiver racing through him when Jungkook’s thick cock bumped against his hole.

“Please,” he whispered.

“Shh... I got you, hyung.” Jungkook pressed in, sighing contentedly at the warm, wet tightness of Jin’s ass. Jin moaned happily, twisting his hips back immediately to begin getting stimulation. Jungkook laughed.

“You’re so eager.”

“Jerking off didn’t help,” Jin admitted. “Using toys didn’t help. I’m desperate.”

“I know. Just take it easy. I’ll take care of you, hyung.”

Jin’s toes curled against the bed when Jungkook picked up a quick pace. His teeth grazed Jin’s shoulder.

“Taking my cock so well, hyung... Loosening up. You gonna let me fill up your ass, hm?”

Jin shouted his name, working his hips back desperately. He begged Jungkook to go faster and harder. He reached back, grabbing for Jungkook. He found the back of his neck, burying his fingers in his shaggy hair and tugging softly. Jungkook shouted, increasing the speed of his thrusts with every tug.

Jin could feel his cock twitching and throbbing, his orgasm washing over him like a warm wave.

Jungkook laughed shakily against his shoulder. “Already coming on my cock? Let’s wring a few more out of you, hm?”

Jin nodded. He spread his legs wider, hoping Jungkook could get deeper inside him.

The room was filled with the dirty sounds of their fucking. The whimpers and cries from Jin, desperate grunts and moans from Jungkook. The bed’s squeaks and groans and the wet squelch of Jin’s ass every time Jungkook drove in added to the pornographic cacophony.

Jin lost count of the number of times he came on Jungkook’s cock, spilling onto the bed underneath him. The only benefit of heat, he supposed, was unlimited orgasms for omegas. Refractory periods were a thing for off season sex, as was any reasonable amount of come.

Jungkook began to lose pace, his thrusts becoming more erratic. His teeth found purchase on Jin’s shoulder and he shouted as he bit down, his cock throbbing inside Jin.

Jin moaned contentedly, but scowled. There weren’t nearly as many throbs as expected... And Jungkook was showing no signs of softening. He shifted as well as he could pinned under his lover, and sniffed the air.

“Oh, JK,” he whispered. Jungkook unclamped his teeth and whimpered, beginning to thrust again.

“I think I just... I think it started. I’m not supposed to be in heat,” he whined. “I didn’t— It wasn’t supposed to be for a few days.”

“I know baby. Just keep going, come on,” Jin urged. Two omegas in heat certainly wouldn’t actually solve either of their aches and needs, but every little bit helped.

Jin shifted, holding onto Jungkook as well as he could manage. He heard the door to their dorm open and called for Jimin and Taehyung. They hurried in, immediately stopping when they saw the state of their boyfriends.

“He went into heat early,” Jin panted.

Taehyung and Jimin shared a glance before jumping into action. Taehyung stripped out of his jeans and crawled onto the bed next to Jin, immediately working to loosen himself up. Jimin stripped and went to the other side and kissed Jin and Jungkook gently.

“Pull out. I’ve got him,” he said, petting Jungkook’s sweat soaked hair.

“Use me instead,” Taehyung offered, spreading his legs.

Jungkook kisses Jin gently before pulling out and moving over between Taehyung’s legs. He nuzzled against his neck, groaning low in his throat.

“That’s it, put it in,” Taehyung soothed, spreading his legs wider.

Jungkook shook his head. He moved down, spreading Taehyung open before driving his tongue into him.

Next to them, Jimin helped Jin roll onto his back. He stroked his cock gently, sharing soft kisses and letting Jin muzzle his neck. He pressed his cock home just as lazily, letting Jin feel each push.

Jin and Taehyung both moaned, holding tight to their respective partners. Jin’s nails scraped at Jimin’s back while Taehyung tugged at Jungkook’s hair, grinding down on his tongue. Jungkook pulled back, his chin and mouth wet and cheeks flushed.

“You taste like Jimin-ssi.”

Taehyung smirked, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Probably ‘cause I fucked him stupid half an hour ago,” Jimin panted, snapping his hips against Jin on each thrust.

Jungkook growled, moving up and leaning over to kiss Jin. Their tongues tangled, allowing Jin to taste the salty sweet remnants of Jimin. He moved back and lined up his cock at Taehyung’s opening.

Taehyung nodded once and Jungkook slid home, baring his teeth at the tight, slick clench.

He picked up speed immediately, and Taehyung could do little more than hold on.

Next to them, Jin was writhing against Jimin, their mouths pressed together as they moaned and whined.

Jimin yanked back, hissing. He held his side in pain, but showed no signs of slowing or softening.

“Jimin?” Jin worried.

“I’m okay.”

“You’re going into heat,” Jungkook panted, looking over at them. His eyes were dark with lust as he pounded into Taehyung, but focused on Jimin.

“It’s not supposed to for another two weeks—“

Jimin whined, his thrusts becoming erratic.

“It’s okay,” Jin whispered. He sat up, wrapping his legs around Jimin. He began to bounce on his lap, working to help Jimin come even as he whined and moaned. “But you—" Jimin tried to argue.

“Shh. Just let go. It won’t help much, but maybe...”

Jimin nodded. He straightened his legs, allowing Jin to fully settle into his lap. Jin slid down his cock as Jimin pumped his hips up, their fingers digging into one another’s skin as they chased orgasm.

Jungkook shuddered. He watched the two for a moment before turning his focus back to Taehyung.

“Gonna come for me?” Taehyung teased. Jungkook nodded, lowering his head. He nuzzled over Taehyung’s neck, breathing deeply as he fucked into him. His hips stuttered and he pulled back. Taehyung’s cheeks and chest were flushed, his mouth drawn back into a grimace. “Not you too...” Jungkook panted.

Taehyung moaned, turning to a half broken sob. “Fuck me, please—“

Jungkook obliged, catching Taehyung’s mouth in a desperate kiss.

The four continued to grind and chase weak orgasms, whimpers and sobs punctuating their desperation.

Jimin gave up first, pushing Jin off him and curling up next to him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t be, you tried.” Jin kissed his forehead, holding him tight. Jungkook pulled out and slumped next to Taehyung, shuddering through an orgasm.

“Fuck.”

“What do we do?” Taehyung asked. He lazily stroked himself as he spoke. Of them all, he was the most sex inclined during his heats. They joked it was because he was the least interested when he was on his pill, so his body made up for it.

As if in answer to Taehyung’s question, the bedroom door opened.

“I thought we’d come early and surpr—“ Namjoon stopped speaking as soon as he saw the state of the omegas in the bed. He set down the bag of candy he’d had, his cock immediately tenting the front of his jeans. “All of you?” He asked, trying to keep his voice stable.

Jin nodded. “All of us. They were trying to help me, I didn’t realize...”

“Hoseok! Yoongi-hyung,” Namjoon called. He circled around to Jin and Jimin, kissing them gently and setting hands on their head. “You’re burning up, guys. How can I help?”

“You know how you can help,” Jin said, rolling his eyes.

“But you’re so warm... Are you up for it?” They both nodded.

“Oh, guys...” Yoongi whispered when he and Hoseok entered. Though worry was etched on their faces, their physical responses were identical, cocks stiffening in their jeans, nostrils flaring at the obvious scent of omegas in heat.

Taehyung sat up. He went to Hoseok and kissed him softly. “Will you?”

“If you’re sure.”

In response, Taehyung bent over the bed, smirking back at Hoseok. Yoongi chuckled when Hoseok scrambled to undo his pants. He went over to Jungkook, stripping out of his clothes before curling up next to him. Jungkook whined and nuzzled his throat.

“Will you make love to me?”

“How do you feel first?” Yoongi asked, petting his sweat soaked back.

“Hot. Cramps. Horny.” He hesitated. “Mad my hyung won’t shove his cock into me and fuck me into next week.” A smile tweaked the corners of his mouth upward as he spoke. Yoongi laughed.

“Alright, Alright.” He sat up and patted his legs. “Come on, Jungkook.”

Jungkook scrambled up and settled onto his cock with a content moan.

Behind them, Taehyung groaned against the mattress, twisting his hips back as Hoseok began to fuck into him.

Namjoon was straddling Jimin and Jin’s thighs, stroking their cocks.

“Who wants it first?” He asked.

“You can’t fuck us both,” Jin protested.

“Why not?”

“Can’t you sense it? As soon as you walked in, your body started rut... As soon as you start fucking one of us... You’re gonna knot.”

Namjoon scowled. He nodded after a moment. “Jimin-ah. Fuck me.”

“What?” Jimin’s eyes widened. “You never bottom.”

“No, but Jin-hyung is right. There’s three of us and we’re all gonna end up knotting you guys. There’s four of you. I’m not letting one of my boys suffer. So fuck me, it’ll work just as well.”

“I know... But...”

“I trust you, Jimin. Just be gentle until I get used to it.”

Jimin nodded. Namjoon shifted, opening Jin’s legs wider. He lined his cock up and pressed home, gasping.

Jimin settled behind him, spitting against his hole to slick it enough for his fingers. It only took him a second to find Namjoon’s slick gland; smaller than Jin’s or any other omegas, but just as useful for bottom Alphas. He began to rub it and Namjoon’s prostate, helping to slick and loosen him. Namjoon chuckled breathlessly.

“Forgot how good that feels.” He thrust gently into Jin, twisting back on Jimin’s fingers.

Taehyung cried out, earning a chuckle from the others.

“Such a sex hound,” Yoongi teased even as Jungkook bounced on his cock.

“Maybe you should help him,” Yoongi said then. He shifted, pushing Jungkook off him and onto his back. With a little pushing and maneuvering, he managed to get Jungkook under where Taehyung was bent over. Taehyung got the picture immediately, sliding his cock into Jungkook’s open mouth. He grabbed a fistful of Jungkook’s hair and began to fuck his mouth as Hoseok used his ass. Yoongi slid back into Jungkook, slamming hard into him.

Meanwhile, Jimin was lining his cock up, teasing Namjoon’s wet hole. Namjoon groaned. “Please—“

“Oh, our strong Alpha leader begging for a cock,” Jin teased. Namjoon glared. He pulled himself out of Jin, earning an annoyed cry.

“Jimin, please— I need it,” Namjoon pleaded. Jimin smirked. He drove home, gasping even as Namjoon shouted in surprised pleasure.

“Oh god, don’t go slow,” Namjoon begged. Jimin chuckled, wrapping his arms around Namjoon’s middle.

“No problem.”

“Ready for it, hyung?” Namjoon asked, his voice wavering.

“Hold on.”

Jin shifted and rolled into his belly, angling his body across the bed to reach Jungkook. He lifted Jungkook’s cock and wrapped his lips around it, bobbing his head gently. Jungkook shouted, gagging around Taehyung’s cock.

Namjoon and Jimin shifted, and Namjoon slid home, letting Jimin’s hard thrusts guide his pace.

The sounds in the room were positively pornographic. Seven bodies writhed against one another, the bed creaking dangerously with their combined weight. Jin, Jungkook, and Taehyung lost track of their orgasms, coaxed out of them by their Alpha’s cocks, coming into the mouths of their lovers or onto the sweat dampened bed.

Jimin chased his own orgasm for longer, his body responding to the flood of hormones

Namjoon’s rut gave off. He finally reached it, falling over the edge and spilling deep inside his lover. His body relaxed, muscles losing their cramping tension. He slid out and crumpled, watching the remaining six with a tired gaze.

It was Yoongi that came next. He grunted softly, his nails digging into Jungkook’s sides. Jungkook pulled his mouth free of Taehyung’s cock to scream Yoongi’s name as his knot swelled, locking them in place while Yoongi came. Jin moved and Jungkook sat up, curling up around Yoongi. He shuddered through orgasm after orgasm, whining softly.

Hoseok was next. He fisted Taehyung’s hair, yanking Jin upright as he pounded into him. Taehyung moaned. He slammed back, begging for Hoseok’s knot, to fuck him, to come in him. Hoseok shuddered, his orgasm deafeningly silent. Taehyung gasped when his knot slipped in, expanding and locking them together. Hoseok barely shifted to get them onto the bed before their legs gave out.

Jin looked back. “Just us... Let me roll over,” he panted desperately. Namjoon pulled out so Jin could roll onto his back. He glanced down, swallowing hard. The base of Namjoon’s cock was already swelling, the promise of a hard, thick knot in the near future. Jin nodded, letting Namjoon push back in. He wrapped his arms around Namjoon’s shoulders.

“I— I have a confession,” he whispered.

“What?”

“I—“ Jin swallowed hard, shuddering his way through another orgasm. “I’ve never taken a knot before.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened. “Do you—“

“Be my first. Knot me, please.”

A tight arousal formed in Namjoon’s stomach at Jin’s words. He grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked back, nosing his way along Jin’s neck. Jin whined, begging softly for it, for Namjoon to take him, fuck him, knot him.

Namjoon snarled, a streak of possessiveness rushing through him. He kissed Jin hard enough that he split his own lip, the coppery tang of blood mixing with their saliva. He drove in hard twice more before his knot expanded and his orgasm hit, tying them together.

Jin threw his head back and screamed, eyes rolling back as his cock twitched and spilled on his belly, orgasms rushing over him in waves almost too overwhelming to bear. His vision greyed and then went white, and Jin worried for a moment he was going to pass out. He opened his eyes though, and Namjoon was looking down at him, still shuddering as his cock spilled rope after rope of warm come into Jin.

“How long does yours last?” Jin rasped.

“About thirty. Talk later. Rest now,” he whispered. “All the others are.” Jin glanced around, smiling tiredly at the dozing or half asleep members. Jimin had wiggled his way into Jungkook and Yoongi’s arms, while Taehyung and Hoseok were cuddled tight together.

Jin nodded, satisfied that everyone was content. They wiggled onto their sides, legs tangled. He nuzzled against Namjoon’s chest.

“I love you,” he mumbled.

“I love you too.”

Jin reached down, running his finger over the spot where Namjoon’s body connected with his. He smiled a little, feeling pleasantly full.

“You’ve really never taken a knot before?” Namjoon asked. Jin nodded.

“To confess I’ve only had a few heats intense enough to actually need sex to feel better. Most of the time jerking off or even sometimes just a hot bath worked. And most of my heats I didn’t have a partner, so I just used knotting toys or dealt with it. My only experience with actual sex during heat was a beta girlfriend I’d had in school... And I went on the medicine soon after because I wanted to focus on my schooling and acting.”

“Then you came here... And you haven’t let yourself go into heat with us.”

“Exactly. And whenever you guys have been in rut and able to knot... The others were in heat.”

Namjoon smiled. “I’m proud to be your first... Do you like it?” Jin beamed, his cheeks mottling red.

“I feel so full. And I can feel you throbbing... It’s amazing... I kinda don’t want it to go down yet.”

Namjoon kissed him instead of answering. Gently at first, then deeper, more passionate. Jin whined when Namjoon’s fingers tangled in his hair again, tugging softly.

They parted only when they had to breathe. “I’ll do it again, as soon as you want it.”

Jin smiled, his eyes a little glazed with sleep and happiness.

“Maybe when I wake up.”

“Go to sleep, hyung. We’ve got you.”

Jin felt the light touch of another’s hand and looked back, meeting Yoongi’s sleepy gaze. Jungkook and Jimin were fast asleep on his chest. He winked.

Jin giggled a little. He reached back, twining his fingers with Yoongi’s. He heaved a content sigh, letting sleep finally take over.

[smolbeandrabbles]

You Kissed Me First - Gerry x Reader (Mississippi Grind)

Moderation / Somethin’ I’m Good At

Gif Credit: X

Author’s Note: 

SO... Over 4 pieces of writing, and 14,631 words I haven’t actually ever written Gerry a kiss...  😁😁😁 It actually makes me really happy to present you with this one because, for me, Gerry is not the easiest character to write for. But two in a matter of weeks has even me shocked. I guess the songs are just getting me right... It’s nice. I will continue to follow the Mendo inspiration right now - that’s for sure!

You Kissed Me First - Carly Pearce

@sufferthesea​ @mandy23b​ This is for you, my darlings 😘💜

Disclaimer: Mississippi Grind characters not mine / gif not mine / lyrics not mine. 

Premise: On your first girls night out in months, Gerry is the last person you’d expect to walk into this bar...

Words: 4254

Warnings: Drinking 

_______

I know I put on that dress And painted my lips red I know I walked in this bar With a couple of my friends I know that I told you The barstool was free I know that I smiled back When you smiled at me

I know I laid my head On your shoulder in the dark I know I took your hand Under the neon stars I know I told myself Let's see where it goes I know I didn't pull back When you pulled me close But you were the one that got me a drink Champagne glass full of sunset pink You asked me to dance, Then you paid the bar band to play One more slow song before last call Then you leaned in so it ain't my fault If I wake up in your t-shirt Just remember, you kissed me first And I won't be the one to blame, If this is meant to be And I won't feel guilty, If you fall in love with me

---

It was the first time in a long while that you'd been out with your friends to a bar. All of you had different work schedules, so getting everything to line up perfectly was hard. Also at least a handful of you had significant others, yourself now included. Well, at least you guessed you were dating - from your perspective that made you exclusive, but, you supposed it wasn't 'official' yet. And you were still edging on the this could go anywhere side of caution. It wasn't like Gerry didn't spend his time warning you how bad he would be for you. And you always had to counter with the fact you wanted to take that chance...

As you'd all finally managed to settle on a free date, that meant you were determined to not waste tonight - considering it wouldn't be easy to predict when the next time you may get to do this would be. You all had a favourite bar downtown that you liked to frequent. And that was where you found yourselves now. Perhaps a little overdressed for a little bar with a nearly empty dancefloor in the middle of your little Iowa town, even on a Friday - but it wasn't like any of you cared. And you'd be rectifying the dancefloor situation by the end of the night. All you were looking to do was have a good time - and unwind a little from the day to day. You'd been catching up for a good long while and been through a few drinks when the bar started getting busier. Still not overly loud, and with a comfortable ambience that allowed you to enjoy the cover songs from the live band - but the dancefloor did begin to fill with couples and friends also looking to loosen up after a long hard week.

When Gerry walked into the little bar, you were the last person he expected to see there. Not that he didn't know that you were out with friends today - he would just have expected you to have chosen literally anywhere else in town. It wasn't exactly lacking in choice for those around your age group. Though he also supposed there was a big difference between dance clubs and quiet bars where you could actually hear each other over the music.

That didn't mean he didn't linger in the doorway for a little while, smile on his face just watching you. He had half a mind to turn and walk out and find somewhere else, but if he went over the other side of town that could quickly lead to bar encounters he didn't need, or something much worse... And he was supposed to be over card games. So Gerry bit his lip gently through his smile, and made his way confidently through the bar and over to you.

You almost had to do a triple take. So involved in the conversation were you that when someone asked you if the seat next to you was taken, all you did was simply relay the truth. No it's free! The glance over your shoulder to them lasted barely half a second. And upon turning back to your friends to tune back into their chat, you lost your train of thought. Pausing, you blinked a couple of times; wait...! You swivelled back to him slowly as he sat, small smile on his face. "Hi!" "H-Hi!!" Your face quickly changed from surprised to amused, and lit up sweetly, "What are you doing here?!" "Pretty great coincidence, right?" He leant on the bar, smile turning into a grin, "I'm just here for a drink, I promise!" He turned to the bar tender who had noticed his presence - "Ah, first off I'll buy a drink for the lady..." He pointed to your glass, "Another or..?" "Gerry-!" You giggled, "Okay, yeah sure!" But then leant in towards the barman too "He'll probably have a Woodford, you can put it on my tab." "No, no..." Gerry waved a hand to dismiss you "Let me get you a drink!" You shook your head, knowing that once your friends became interested in the man buying you rounds, they'd want all theirs on his tab too. "Ger-" "Just one. Then you can do the rest if you insist..." You sighed gently, unable to look away from his pleading eyes "Okay, one." He celebrated like he'd just got much more out of you than one drink and turned straight to the bar; "Sorry, you- you're probably having a great night..." He cleared his throat, "I'll have one then I can go." "Gerry..." You touched his arm gently, "What do you mean? You just made my night even better; I didn't think I was going to get to see you-! How lucky does that make me?" He giggled then, almost lowering his head completely to the bar as blush crossed his cheeks; "Oh, okay!" You shook your head gently at him as the smile remained on his face but his eyes didn't flick back to yours until after the barman had poured your drinks. "Cheers-!" He clinked his glass to the one you raised, arm brushing yours. That had him smiling again, but you knew exactly why. Gerry liked to be close to you, politely, and a little bar like this afforded just that amount of intimate touching - although he didn't want to get too into your personal space - it did mean that the little affectionate points of contact that occurred couldn't really be helped - and he lived for them.

**

You continued a brief conversation about how each of your days had been, and future plans. Before your friends realised that you weren't hanging onto their every word anymore. "Y/N-!" You received a gentle nudge to your back which made you turn to face them, "Yeah?" All three were staring at you with the same expression. Your eyes flicked between them; "What-!?" Sadie was the one to begin the questions, leaning across the others; "First off, whooooo is the cutie pie!!?" "Second off - are you not gonna introduce us-!?" Nicole gasped "OH MY GOD! Did he buy you a drink already-!?" "OH!" You laughed, a little embarrassed, and pressed your back against the bar, "Sorry, I realise I've not done this before-!"

Gerry had really come here to think a couple of things through over a drink, but he'd been glad of your company, even in the vicinity. But in the fact that you were now addressing him and your friends, he was pulled away from his bourbon again, right to three women staring at him with various levels of interest. He realised immediately that meant introducing himself to them first; "Oh! Hi! I'm Gerry-!" They all turned from his sweet as sugar little smile back to you, of course they knew as much as you'd cared to tell them about the man who frequented your cafe so often, and had admitted his crush on you. Only for you to end up dating - at least casually – and silence hung in the air for a moment, before Jen punched the top of your arm; "THE GERRY!? YOU DIDN'T SAY HE WAS AN ABSOLUTE CUTIE-!?!?!” That only made you go redder, "Yeah..." though she didn’t have to make it so obvious that you spent a lot of time talking about him-! Eyes flicking between the four of you, the look on Gerry’s face read that he didn't think that his night was going to get any better. You were here, three girls he'd never met were suddenly calling him cute (and yes, he would take it! That was the friend seal of approval and was a great honour!), he had his favourite drink... And a dance floor. He'd utilise that one a little later though. The girls all introduced themselves to him one by one and suddenly he was the complete centre of attention, he wasn't exactly used to something like that - but his shyness just made him even more adorable to them. And finally, you got them all to settle down and go back to it being a girl’s night out. That didn't mean you, nor he - with the way he read everything - missed the looks that every man in the room was giving him. And the way that Gerry let you cuddle into him as he wound an arm around your shoulders. Eventually you let him get back to his drink, but he at least acted reluctant. If he'd come here for quiet you didn't exactly want to distract him from that - but as you continued your evening you kept your hand in his as he made his way through another glass.

 **

 Eventually he slid off the bar stool, and let his hand delicately leave yours, as he paid his tab. You thought that would count Gerry's night as over, and you were about to turn to wish him goodnight, and while he was here, figure out when the next time you would see him would be. It didn't sound like he was so busy this weekend, so maybe it wouldn't have to be at the cafe, maybe you would get to go on a date.

Gerry had different ideas, because although he was now standing, he was shrugging himself out of his jacket to put over the back of your chair. He was determined to make tonight a date if you would let him. Your friends weren't about to deter him from doing so either. So when he held his hand out for yours and asked you to dance, you were only a little hesitant. "Of course she will-!" The girls answered for you, and you had to laugh again as they did almost everything apart from literally pushing you onto the dancefloor. You let him take your hand and raised your eyebrows to your friends with a wink; liquid confidence... Or maybe something else - unless Gerry used this demeanour as a facade for his gambling, you doubted this was the man that people at his usual tables knew. He got his conviction from somewhere...

 His confidence was still gentle as he laced his fingers with yours, confessing that he wasn't the best dancer - but that because he had you, it probably didn't matter so much. You were hardly one to care about that, more that he would want to take your hands in his, or you in his arms and pull you closer to him out here on the floor at all. And not just for one song. This wasn't unnoticed by your friends of course, because their eyes were glued to you. And their phones too - "Oh my god..." You whispered but with Gerry this close, he heard you; "What?" "Well don't look at my friends now, but this is gonna be all over social media tomorrow..!" He laughed softly; "Is there a problem with that?" Your smile was a little absentminded before you turned your eyes on him; "No...It’s the least of my problems. A little like getting to be here with you at all." Again he acted bashful, blue eyes hitting the floor, voice soft; "You don't need to say that..." "I mean it-!" You kept your eyes on his until he raised them back to you, and then he smiled gently pausing the sway of your dance Gerry made a firm decision and slipped his hands from yours; "Wait here..."

You barely had time to respond before he approached the band winding up their current song. He took out his wallet and added to their tip jar, beckoning the singer in closer to whisper a song and pointed at you through the crowd. Upon the band’s agreement, Gerry made his way back to you with a smile on his face. You eyed him warily; "What have you just got me into-!?" "One more slow song before they head for last call..." He took you back in his arms, and let you entwine your fingers with his - recognising the song as one of your favourites. That made you bite your lip as you beamed, unable to look back into his eyes for fear of becoming something akin to a blushing mess. But when you finally felt like you could, you thanked him. And then your eyes didn't leave his for the remainder of the song. And you were aware that he continued to pull you closer inch by inch - and that excitement ran over your body as you realised what he was about to do, and that you knew you wouldn't stop him from pulling you in.

 Gerry's eyes flicked from your eyes to your lips far too often, and it was almost a little too much for him as he took a deep breath and looked away "...Y/N..." He paused again, like he was trying to get a grip on the situation, "...Y/N... I think I..." He bit his lips together and his eyes widened slightly, "I'm..." When those beautiful blue eyes looked back in yours, he realised that all you were doing was waiting for him now. And that maybe saying it just wouldn't do the moment justice. Gerry closed what was left of the gap, and his lean in was slow, enough for you to read every second of the situation, and grip his hand tighter, hold him as close as he was holding you. Your eyes closed as his lips touched yours, sweet and hesitant at first, as unsure as he always seemed. The way he'd look at you in the café, like he didn't believe you could possibly feel the same way about him. So you kept him close, the pressure of your hand on his back encouraging. That injected confidence into his kiss immediately - but it was still soft and gentle, tasting a little like a hint of his favourite Kentucky bourbon. Not a kiss you wanted to end in a hurry - and a damn good first one.

 He pulled away looking at least a little guilty, was that okay? Are you sure? And you couldn't help but fall harder for that charming innocence he had - no matter what you knew about his past. You just beamed in response, but shied away from anything he might wish to say to you now, nestling your head in his shoulder. You could feel your face heating up already - and wanted to hide that from him as much as you did your friends. Who, hell yes, had just witnessed that. Then you smiled to yourself - Gerry had made a hell of a move to kiss you first, but he'd just done it in full view of your three best friends. He deserved a little something for that, when it could also have gone so wrong. You leant up and kisses his cheek, returning to your position on his shoulder. For a moment he looked surprised, before he turned to you, gentle heart-warming smile on his face - and Gerry knew he'd made the right choice.

 ***

 When last call did eventually come you evacuated the dancefloor, with all of your friends looking both enamoured with the two of you and overly smug. "What-!?" "Do you realise how cute you two are?!" You hid your face in his arm for a second, met with his nervous giggle - "Shut up!" "Nope. It's totally true-!" The girls hugged you both close and continued teasing you - but in an affectionate way. Before they all decided to call it a night; "Y/N? Are you coming with us or..." "Uh..." You turned to Gerry, now shrugging his jacket back on. Going back to his place? That felt like rushing something... As much as it felt right... "I..." Jen shook her head, "If it's hard for you to decide then you've already decided." She hugged you once more, "He seems very sweet. You know I'm still gonna ask you to be careful. But, you're a smart girl!" You grinned "Thank you! I will I promise!" When Gerry twisted to you again, he realised you were alone; "Oh... They left?" "Mhm." You gave a gentle shrug, "Guess it's just us!" He held his hand out for yours "Should I walk you home?" You bit your lip, as hesitant to say this as he was to kiss you, "I don't... Think I want to go home just yet..." "Oh?" He gave a smile, leading you from the bar "Well, I guess there's always my place..." Although that thought crossed your mind probably more than it should have your mood had completely changed by the time you walked through his front door. "Drink?" "Actually water wouldn't go amiss..." "Good call. Smart girl." He gave a gentle hum, pouring you and himself a glass. Then paused, like he realised the significance of you standing in his house and whirled back around; "O-Oh... I-- I guess you'll be staying, huh?" Then watching the way your face changed, like you felt guilty for assuming it. Gerry held his hands out, feeling like he'd probably just put his foot in it "Oh! God-! No! It's okay-! I-I want you to stay-! Y/N...!" He crossed his kitchen to you, hands on your arms, forehead against yours, "Please... Stay..." As if he thought a simple mistake like that would cause you to walk out on him. Your heart skipped, with him this close to you, and your smile was shy and delicate against the assuring look on his face. “…I will…” And you knew you didn’t just mean tonight.

He gathered you a shirt, and everything he thought you might need to stay at his for an evening, certainly not wanting to force anything upon you that you didn't want. And left you to get ready for bed. However the second you slipped his soft T-shirt on the only thing you wanted was to be wrapped up in his arms. And you stood looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror for an inordinate amount of time. It smelled like all his clothes did – and although he wasn’t holding you, it was like you could feel his body warmth wrapping around you protectively. Your eyes welled up, seemingly for no reason, and suddenly you wanted that feeling more than anything.

By the time you'd finished he was also changed, and waiting for you to say goodnight. And also by the way that his eyes never left your face, was trying to be a polite gentleman about the whole situation - though you wouldn't have minded him running his eyes over your body just once... It wasn't like you weren't together; "Well... Goodnight, Gerry. Thank you for asking me to stay..." "You're welcome... Thank you for…uhm, accepting. Maybe we can do something together tomorrow?" The sweet, gentle smile he was falling so in love with was back on your face "I'd like that." "Good..." He agreed with a nod "Goodnight, Y/N..." You gave a nod of your own, and turned to pad back down the hall to his guest room. When he didn't call you back, you turned back and took a deep breath; "Gerry?" "Uh huh?" He stood and tipped his head, that same clueless innocent look on his face that he liked fixing you with. "Can I... Stay with you?" Both of you went red - you for asking, him for having you be so direct. "Oh, I..." You could feel your heart thump loud in your chest - and once again his face changed from shock to beaming realisation, "I just..." You tried to put it another way, and realised how sweet you were making your voice, "I just want you to hold me..."

 ***

 Being wrapped up in his arms provided you with an ultimate moment of realisation. That you could quite happily do this for a very long time - for as long as this relationship was likely to last. For all Gerry’s warnings you already hoped the answer to that would be a good long time... You didn't want to hope too much that that might end up the case. And yet you did.

Gerry held you close, but not too tight - his touches comforting as you spent the majority of it in silence. Conversation didn't need to pass between you, and your fingertips ran the arm he'd curled beneath you. You wanted to tell him that you didn't usually do this, not stay with someone this early into the relationship... But there was something about Gerry that made you so comfortable... That maybe he knew that already, and you didn't need to use your words. That this tender intimacy was enough. But the more he relaxed you the more you drifted off. And you fought that for as long as you could; wanting nothing more than to stare back into his loving blue eyes.

 You had obviously failed at that when the next thing you knew you were waking up to daylight. Still in the warmth of his arms, however, which made you smile and cuddle further into him - returning the hold he had on you. Gerry smiled absentmindedly in his dreams and he squeezed you tight, making you giggle, before you decided you'd much rather stay here in bed with him than get up and start the day.

Meaning you were well rested by the time you did wake up - but alone. ish. He was already dressed and sitting up on the bed, running his hand through your hair; "Oh... Sorry..." He mumbled sheepishly, withdrawing his hand as your eyes adjusted to the light. You rubbed them and stretched - "Well... That's one way to wake up..." This time Gerry offered you a bashful giggle; "I just wanted you to sleep for as long as you needed..." He still wasn't really looking at you, and his fingers tapped nervously against his knees; "Uh. I guess you might want to borrow some clothes?" You sat up, with a nod; "Thank you..." Then folded your arms with a grin "I mean I have always wondered what it'd be like to cuddle you in those sweaters... But if I get to wear one!" This time he did go red and almost spluttered; "Well I... I guess you're gonna get both." Your gasp was gentle, "I would very much appreciate cuddles." "Haha, I bet..." He stood and opened his dresser... Again he tapped a rhythm against it before turning back to you. "Maybe I should just let you chose one?" You rolled yourself out of bed and wandered over to him; "Your T-shirt and your sweater, I should be so honoured." He laughed; "It's like you practically live here." "Trust me - half your wardrobe would go missing if I did." You perused his extensive collection, before selecting one and kissing his cheek. "Thank you-!" "You're welcome..." You'd already made him smile, but now he was gently rubbing his cheek. "I'll uh, wait for you downstairs, okay?" "Mhm-!"

***

Gerry busied himself in the kitchen whilst he waited for you, and in turn whilst you waited for him you curled yourself up on the sofa - checking your phone for messages. "Oh God..." You whispered to yourself, head very nearly in your hands as you realised just how many messages you had received from your friends, nearly all pictures of course, from your friends in the aftermath of the previous evening. All with various comments that all said the same thing: OH MY GOD YOU TWO ARE SO CUTE--!!! And trying to come up with a good sounding ship name for you.

You sighed gently, knowing that this would probably go on for at least the whole of today. They definitely were going to love to tease you about this. Still, at least you knew the pictures were very cute; they did have that right. Before long, you were joined not by Gerry, but by a ginger and white cat. Who eyed you with as much curiosity as you did it. Gerry had never mentioned a cat, but you would assume it was his. Curious and friendly, as it leapt onto the sofa and then onto you. "Oh! My god, you're gorgeous! AW! Hey---!!" The affection you gave and in turn received resulted very quickly in purrs. "We'll I'm very happy to meet you too-!" Gerry stood in the doorway for a moment, watching with a roll of his eyes; "Hey, Jasper, come on, leave her alone-!" He received a meow back, but Jasper definitely didn't move - "I think that's a no! Jasper?" "Mhm..!" Gerry was carrying two mugs, which he placed carefully on the side table before joining you, scratching behind Jasper's ears - making the purring even louder. "He's very cute." "Yeah-! I mean... I've had him a little while, he's a good cat." "I bet..."

Gerry pulled you closer to him winding an arm around your waist as you propped your head on his shoulder, still stroking a hand through Jasper's fur. "Can I ask you something?" "Yeah?" He turned his eyes to you, "Anything..." "How do you do that?" "Do...what?" "Switch between confident and shy in a matter of seconds. I'm not even sure you realise you're-" you paused your sentence just by the look of surprise on his face; "C-Confident? Me!?" Your folded your arms in defiance of his protest; "Yes! Don't act like that, how can you not call yourself confident!?" He gave a shrug, "I... I dunno I guess it's just a remnant of the way I used to play... You gotta have confidence at tables. Like no matter what your play is. You don't want other players to think they can rattle you easily. So, I guess..." He smiled "That's why. But then, you're giving me signals that make me confident with you... So... Again, maybe it's you too..." "You're very sweet to say that." You brushed your lips to his cheek again and nestled into his sweater; "Sweet maybe, but also true..." He let you settle yourself; "We need more weekends like this." "I second..." You smiled, "We need more nights like yesterday." Gerry laughed, but said no more, and you sat in silence for a few moments more before you glanced to the mugs on the table. Then your smile grew, in realisation of what he'd done; "Is that hot chocolate?" "Yeah..." His smile was sweet "Bout time. I figure I owe you that..." Then he got a flash of confidence back; "And our first kiss-!"

And with him looking at you like that; you were about to make it two.

---

@happyskywhale @wltz-bby​ @3134045126​ #MendoTagSquad.

[noona-clock]

I’ll Be Fine

Genre: College!AU/Fluff

Pairing: Jae x You

By Admin B

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, The Great Cookie Bake-Off

The first thing you did after swinging open the door to your dorm room was let out a long, very frustrated sigh. And then you flung yourself onto your bed, burying your face in your pillows and whining desperately.

“So,” your roommate chirped. “I’m assuming you had a good Thanksgiving.”

You rolled over onto your back, groaning as you did because you were simply exhausted. Drained of all energy. “Oh, yeah,” you replied sarcastically with a deeply furrowed brow. “Very good. I spent the entire time dodging questions about my boyfriend.”

“...You don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Exactly!”

Your roommate sighed softly, turning around in her desk chair to face you. “Well, I spent the entire week doing homework, so I guess we’re both outta gas, huh?”

“Holidays are supposed to be relaxing! You’re supposed to come back refreshed and eager and ready to get back to the grind! So why do I just want to go to sleep for the next ten hours?”

“Go eat something,” she suggested as she turned back around and began typing. “You’re like the embodiment of those Snickers commercials. You’re not you when you’re hungry.”

You let out a breathy chuckle, managing to sit up even though you truly could’ve laid on your bed for the rest of the week. “Come with me?”

“I can’t. I’ve got this paper to finish up.”

“I’m sorry, but being a Pre-Law major sucks. I don’t know what you got yourself into, but I’m glad I did not,” you said with a grimace. She was constantly writing papers and doing homework, and you were just too lazy for that life.

Your roommate shot you a somewhat sassy look, quirking her brow and pursing her lips. “Speak to me again when I’m making double -- triple -- the amount of money you are, Miss Education Major.”

You were about to snap back with ‘Well, I’ll be teaching our future and making a difference!’ But... she would also be making a difference as a lawyer, so... There went that argument.

“Whatever,” you sighed. “I’ll just marry rich.”

“You have to find a boyfriend first,” she reminded you cheekily.

“Okay, I’m leaving.”

“Wait! I think Jae is back already. You should ask him to go with you. I don’t think he’s ever said ‘no’ to a meal before.”

“This is true,” you murmured as you slid your phone out of your back pocket. You brought up your message conversation with Jae, typing out your question as quickly as you could. You’d just realized how hungry you actually were, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could wait to head off to the dining hall.

Jae must have been just as hungry as you because he replied back almost immediately.

“All right, see you later,” you sighed as you rolled off your bed and lifted an arm to wave goodbye to your roommate.

“Can you bring me back a slice of pizza?” your roommate asked quickly as you opened the door.

“Ya snooze, ya lose.”

“I’m not snoozing, I’m working!”

You cackled as you closed the door behind you, though both of you knew you would definitely bring her back a slice of pizza. You had a habit of pretending to be mean and uncaring when, really, you had one of the softest hearts. You would do anything for your friends.

Since Jae lived in the dorm next door, you figured he would meet you at the dining hall just across the street. It was the closest one, so why would you go anywhere else?

Lo and behold, when you walked into the spacious room filled with tables, you saw Jae already waiting at one of them.

“Well, well, well,” you announced as you approached him. “Pink hair. This is new.”

Jae was actually one of your roommate’s friends from high school; a tight-knit group of them had enrolled here together, so when you’d been randomly picked to be the roommate of one of them, you’d initially felt totally lost and left out.

But both your roommate and Jae had taken you in almost immediately. You got along extremely well with the both of them, and they’d actually become two of your closest friends over the past year and a half.

Jae quickly looked up at you, a somewhat embarrassed smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“Yeah... just needed a change.”

“I like it,” you grinned as he stood from his seat.

He murmured his thanks as the two of you headed over to the sushi station, collecting your trays and placing your orders.

“So, how was your Thanksgiving?” Jae asked, apparently deciding to get most of your talking done now as you were waiting for the chef to make your California rolls. I mean, honestly, once you both got started eating, your mouths would be too full to say anything, so it was just as well.

“It was awful,” you replied with an angelic smile. “My family wouldn’t get off my case about the boyfriend I don’t have.”

“Ouch,” he hissed with a shake of his head.

“Same. I mean, I don’t understand why they’re so concerned with the fact that I’m single. I’m only in my second year of college! I’m still very young! Wouldn’t they rather I focus on school right now?” You simply rolled your eyes before asking Jae in return, “What about yours?”

“Well, about the same. Found out Jamie was cheating on me, so I broke up with her.”

“Oh, my god!” you gasped. “Seriously?!”

Jae nodded, his lips pressed together in a thin line. “She’s been hounding me ever since, trying to apologize and get back together.”

“But you’re not having it?” you asked, clasping your empty tray to your chest.

“Nope. I mean, she did it once. If we got back together, there’s every chance she would do it again. I’m not gonna put myself through that.”

“...Are you gonna be okay?” you asked softly. After all, they’d been together since high school. It had to be rough.

“Yeah,” Jae replied with a nod. “I’ll be fine. Live and learn.”

You frowned, reaching out with one hand and putting it on his fluffy, pink head. You stroked his hair gently as you let out a soft sigh. Jae was one of the nicest, coolest people you knew. He didn’t deserve to be treated like that!

Just then, Jamie herself walked through the dining hall doors. She spotted you petting Jae’s head, obviously, because her eyes narrowed.

“Oops,” you murmured, quickly pulling your hand away.

“No, no,” Jae whispered. “Do that again.”

“Do what again?”

“Pet my head!”

“Why --”

“Just do it!”

You reached out yet again, smoothing your palm over his hair and trying to look as sorry as you just had.

Jae’s eyes flitted over toward Jamie, and you saw she’d now pursed her lips and stomped off to another part of the dining hall.

“Oh, my god, I have an idea,” Jae said in a tone of slight awe.

“...What?” 

The sushi chef handed over your orders then, and you thanked him before heading off back to the table Jae had occupied just a few minutes ago.

“Okay, this might sound crazy,” Jae began, sliding into the seat next to you. He leaned in, lowering his voice so only you could hear. (There was literally no one around you so it didn’t matter how low his voice was, but whatever.) “But I think it could work.”

“What could work?”

“Your family is going to hound you again when you go home for Christmas, right?”

You simply rolled your eyes in response.

“And did you see Jamie’s reaction when you were petting my hair?”

“Yeah...” Okay, where was he going with this?

“What if we pretend to be dating?”

“What?!” you cried. You immediately clapped your hand over your mouth because your voice had been a lot louder than you’d intended.

“What?!” you repeated in a whisper. “That doesn’t just sound crazy. That is crazy!”

“But think about it! I can visit you at home so your family will get off your case about being single. You can act like my girlfriend around campus where Jamie can see. Your family will shut up, and Jamie will realize we’re not getting back together and stop stalking me. We both win!”

The expression on Jae’s face made it clear he thought he’d come up with the most genius, fool-proof plan ever, and it was actually pretty difficult to say no to that face...

But you were going to, anyway.

“No way.”

“Are you sure?” Jae asked, looking awfully skeptical.

“Yes, I am sure! That would never work!”

He simply let out a sigh before grabbing his chopsticks and picking up a roll of sushi from his plate. “All right. But if you change your mind...”

“I’ll let you know,” you told him with a disbelieving chuckle. Because you were quite sure you weren’t going to change your mind.

The rest of your meal panned out in a very average way: you talked about your upcoming finals, what you wanted for Christmas, the latest Memes... y’know. Normal college stuff.

Thankfully, Jae didn’t bring up his crazy fake dating scheme again, though he did say, “And remember. If you change your mind...” when you parted ways at your dorm building.

You were still chuckling softly to yourself and shaking your head when you arrived back in your dorm room, prompting your roommate to swivel around and eye you curiously.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, man,” you groaned as you plopped onto your bed. You held out the to-go box with the pizza you’d grabbed for her on your way out, your smile growing when you heard her joyful squeal. “Jae -- well, first of all, if you didn’t know: Jamie cheated on him, so he dumped her.”

“I knew it! I never trusted her. Didn’t I say --”

“And he came up with this ridiculous idea,” you interrupted. (Your roommate had a penchant for going on preachy rants, and you’d learned to just stop her before she got started.) “I told him about my family, right? And he said we should pretend to be in a relationship to get my family to stop bothering me and to get Jamie to stop bothering him. Apparently, she keeps texting him wanting to get back together, but I immediately --”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” she mumbled, her mouth half-full of pepperoni, hot cheese, and freshly-baked dough.

You stopped talking mid-sentence, your mouth hanging open with your unspoken words.

“...I’m sorry, what?” you asked after a few awkwardly silent moments.

“It’s not! I mean, you two are friends, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You know each other, so it’s not like people wouldn’t believe it. And if it gets you guys both free from your demons... what’s the harm?”

“Uh... the harm is it’s weird?”

“It’s not that weird! You’re helping each other out! You like helping friends. You got me this pizza, didn’t you?” She held the box up with a very angelic look on her face.

“That is not even remotely the same. Getting Jae pizza and pretending to be his girlfriend are two -- I mean, you can’t even compare them. Apples to oranges.”

“Well, all I’m saying is, I don’t think it’s as crazy as you do. I think he’s right. It could totally work. But, hey, it’s not me who would be in the fake relationship, so...” She shrugged before shoving more of the pizza into her mouth and swiveling back around to face her laptop.

You were about to continue on with your argument, bringing up the fact you weren’t living in a Netflix movie or something. Pretending to be Jae’s girlfriend would only make it awkward between you two once you “broke up,” and you didn’t want to ruin your friendship with him!

But what was the point, really? Your roommate was going to be a lawyer. Whatever argument you made, she would be able to refute it and top it.

So you simply got out your phone and pulled up YouTube, preparing to watch a Vine compilation or five. Classes didn’t start until tomorrow, and you would start studying for finals then. Today, you would relax and de-stress from your Hell week at home.

Truthfully, you almost cried when your alarm went off the next morning.

You weren’t ready to get out from under your warm, cozy blankets. You weren’t ready to get dressed or brush your teeth. You weren’t ready to gather your books and put on your backpack and trek to class in the cold. You weren’t ready to sit in your seat for an hour and attempt to pay attention.

As much as you’d suffered over the Thanksgiving holidays, you were not that much happier being back at school - actually going to class.

You flung your arm out, grasping for your phone and pressing the ‘Snooze’ button on the screen. But rather than going back to sleep, you slid your phone off your side table and brought it up to your face to check your notifications.

Email, email, Instagram, Twitter, email, text from your mom, text from your aunt -- wait, holy crap.

The two messages from your mom and aunt were part of a group chat, one you had no idea you’d been added to, and as you scrolled down... you saw at least two dozen more messages.

You slid the notification over, opening the chat and navigating up to the very beginning.

The very first message was one from your cousin. She’d sent it last night after you’d fallen asleep, and the rest of your family had been responding since then, including this morning.

The message?

It was a picture of her left hand. With a ring on it.

A diamond ring.

Oh, fuck.

You thought it had been bad over Thanksgiving, but now that your cousin was engaged?! The questions and quips and remarks about your own love life would get even worse.

And you really didn’t think you could handle that.

You shouldn’t have to! Not over Christmas!

You slammed your phone back down on your side table before lugging yourself out of bed, sluggishly starting to get ready for class.

Unsurprisingly, you started off your day in a pretty foul mood. You trudged over to the English building for your first class of the day. You scowled as your professor lectured about archetypes and symbolism. You picked at your breakfast, barely touching it even though you were one to rarely ever skip a meal.

And then, as you were pushing your scrambled eggs around on your plate with your fork. you had an idea.

Well, not really an idea.

The more accurate term would be ‘you changed your mind.’

You stood immediately, picking up your tray and hurrying over to the kitchen window to deposit it. And then you weaved your way through the tables of chattering students, your heart racing and your mind whirling.

Within three minutes, you were standing in front of the door to Jae’s dorm, out of breath and knocking as gently as you could manage. You were kind of shaking, so you were finding it just a tad difficult to control your body right now.

As soon as the door opened, you made sure it was Jae answering - not his roommate, Wonpil - before blurting out, “Let’s do it.”

“...Let’s do what?” he asked groggily, his pink hair adorably mussed up. Lucky him with no morning classes.

“Let’s date -- fake date. I changed my mind. Let’s do it.”

Part 2

[thereisnobearonthisisland-arc]

tell me somethin’ new

summary: dan's kind of regretting throwing away his friday night to have a skate-off with the guy who insulted him earlier today, but maybe it won't be as bad as he thinks. or the one where dan howell is a little hot-headed and accidentally challenges former ice-skating champion, phil lester, to an after-hours skating competition.

a/n: this was written for the jolly friends and dickmates gc winter secret santa gift exchange. happy christmas/new year/random friday in january @amczingphil​! special thanks to @knlalla​ and @philsroots​ for continuing to beta this even after i argued against almost every suggestion they made. to quote myself, “i’m sorry for being a stubborn gay bitch.”

word count: 3.7k

read on ao3

warnings: sexual references, sports injury, dan doesn’t know when to Stop

Dan is, decidedly, a dumbass, though he has yet to realize it. He slumps forward, eyes dropping down to where the laces on his skates hang limply at the sides. He glares at them. It’s not their fault that he’s here at an ice rink, after hours on a Friday night. They weren’t the ones who declared that Dan could outskate the cute ice rink owner, Phil, in a fit of half-flirting, half-frustrated hubris, after all. No, Dan did that just fine on his own, but he needs to take his irritation out on something, and the laces happen to be right here.

It hadn’t been on purpose, of course. He hadn’t stepped onto the rink earlier today with the intention of challenging a complete stranger to an after-hours skating competition.

Dan sighs and combs his fingers through his hair. This was a mistake. He could have actually had a fun night, could have gone out to a couple local bars to find a hook-up, but there’s not much he can do about it now. He’s already here, and he’s not about to forfeit when he knows he can win. With a sigh, he reaches down and begins tying up his laces. Might as well get it over with. At least this Phil guy is hot.

Planting the blades of his skates into the ground as firmly as he can, Dan pushes himself up off the bench, but it does little to stop him wobbling the moment he adds his weight into the mix. His ankles buckle and he finds himself reaching out to grab onto the nearest support. He just manages to wrap his arms around the nearest bench in an attempt to hold himself up before he finds himself in a heap of his own limbs on the floor.

Groaning, he presses his forehead against the seat top. It’s made of metal and cool from the chilly air, and it helps to temper his rapidly warming face. Fuck ice skates. He never really has much of a problem with them when he’s on the ice, but he can’t walk for shit in them when he’s on solid ground. He’ll have to learn pretty quickly if he doesn’t want to fall flat on his face in front of Phil, though.

Using the arms he’s already wrapped around the bench, Dan pulls himself back to his feet. This time, he positions himself closer to the wall. As long as there’s something for him to lean on if he needs to, Dan should be able to make it all the way to the rink without incident. He just needs to spend less time thinking about what he’s doing.

Somehow he manages it.

Phil is already on the ice by the time Dan makes it out to the gate. He’s gliding across the ice in figure eights, his long legs clad in tight black leggings, and Dan’s half-tempted to just stay quiet and hide behind the barrier so he can keep watching. It doesn’t really seem like Phil would notice Dan if he doesn’t make his presence known - he appears to be lost in his own world, his entire body swaying to the rhythm of a song that isn’t actually there.

Actually, he appears to be dancing - properly dancing - on the ice right now. His arms come up to circle over his head, fingers locked tightly together, and he bends at the knees, tucking in to begin spinning in a tight circle on the spot. The sharp blades of the skates grind against the ice, cutting through the air like a siren, but all Dan can focus on are Phil’s legs. He seems to be winding himself up, although for what exactly Dan isn’t quite sure.

The answer, it turns out, is nothing. But Phil isn’t done yet. He plants his toe into the ice to stop himself from spinning and immediately begins gliding backwards across the smooth surface. He draws his right leg back, allowing the left one to continue to carry him over the ice as he gears up for something Dan’s not sure he’s ready for himself. Dan can feel his heartbeat in his ears as Phil drags his right skate forward to plant the toe in the ice and propel himself off the ground.

It isn’t until this moment that he realizes Phil must know twice as much about skating as Dan does himself. So what if Phil falls flat on his arse the moment his skates touch the ice again? Dan knows that he’s not a bad skater, but he definitely doesn’t know how to skate quite like that. Regardless of whether or not Phil can land his jumps, he can still do more than Dan will ever be able to. Maybe this was a bad idea. Dan’s throat closes tightly as he watches Phil reach behind himself to press a hand to his lower back. The wince is visible even from here.

Phil pushes himself to his feet and brushes the ice shavings off of his arse, and Dan doesn’t know whether to keep watching or to pretend he hadn’t seen the fall to begin with.

It seems he doesn’t even need to make the decision. Before he can even think about it, Phil’s calling out from the middle of the ice.

“I thought you wanted to skate.” He fixes his gaze just to the left of Dan, eyes rimmed with just a tinge of red.

Dan takes a deep breath and then steps through the gate and out onto the ice. As soon as his skates touch the new surface, a calm washes over him. He begins gliding towards the center of the rink where Phil is, the blades cutting smoothly through the clean ice. It feels familiar, comforting in the same way it feels to walk through the front door of his flat after a long day. Phil meets Dan’s gaze, crosses his arms as Dan digs his toe into the ice to come to a halt right in front of him.

“Sorry, I - erm - I saw you out on the ice and I didn’t want to interrupt,” Dan says.

“I saw you come out of the changing rooms.” Phil’s turned his attention to his fingernails, and Dan wonders if he and his big mouth have already ruined any prospects for a friendly flirtationship.

“Oh yeah, I was, uh, re-tying my laces,” he says lamely.

“Cool.”

The question are you okay sits on the tip of Dan’s tongue, but instead he blurts out, “So what, were you trying to show off for me or…?”

Phil rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath, and begins skating away. Dan watches, unsure of whether he should follow after him or just turn around leave before his shoves his foot even further in his mouth.

“Are you coming?”

Once again, it seems as though Phil is making all of Dan’s decisions for him tonight. Maybe he doesn’t mind as much as he should.

"Yes, sir," he grumbles. When he starts towards Phil, he goes slowly, opting for long, smooth strides over the short, choppy ones that would get him there faster. He comes to a stop about two metres away and clears his throat. "Okay. So tell me how I have to kick your ass."

Phil huffs. "Three trials. One timed lap around the rink, seven figure-eights, one triple lux. Loser has to pay for drinks afterwards.”

Dan gulps. He has no idea how to do a triple lux, but maybe if Phil goes before him, he can just wing it and try to mimic what he does.

“Do we have a deal?” Phil says.

“You know,” Dan starts against his better judgment, lips turning up at one corner into a crooked smirk, “you don’t have to go through all of this just to take me out for a drink. Hell, I’d fall right into your bed if you smiled at me.” He’d probably fall right into Phil’s bed without the smile, even. Although, considering that Phil hasn’t so much as smirked since the moment they met, Dan’s definitely itching to get at least one out of him before the night is over.

“You were the one who called for a skate-off.” Phil’s voice is flat and low, his eyes once again searching for anything to look at besides Dan. His cheeks are tinged pink, but as much as Dan would like to take credit for that himself, he’s pretty sure it’s because Phil’s been stood out on this ice for a while. It is rather nipply out here. Perhaps that’s why Dan loses the ability to bite his tongue every time he’s out on this ice. All his blood is trying to circulate towards his head.

“I only called for a skate-off in the first place because you seem to think I’m incapable of teaching my niece how to skate.”

Phil eyes him suspiciously. “That was your niece?”

“Well yeah,” Dan scoffs. “I promised her I’d take her skating this year. She’s never been before and this place had the best reviews. Obviously none of the reviewers took hospitality into account.”

Phil freezes, his jaw dropping and his eyes narrowing into slits. “Well maybe-” he growls, pausing to let a deep breath pass in and out of his lips. Any fight he has in him seems to dissipate as he exhales. He closes his mouth slowly. “Look. You were distributing your weight all wrong. I know it probably feels more comfortable balance-wise when you angle your skates outward, but it leaves you more susceptible to injuries. I just thought that if you were trying to teach a kid how to skate - which you were - you should at least do it right.”

Dan’s ears grow hot at the insinuation that he’s unfit to teach Maggie how to skate. He scowls at the thick layer of ice beneath his feet. “Oh yeah? Well who crowned you king of the fucking ice rink?”

“The deed to this place,” Phil says flatly. There’s a beat of silence and then he lets out a long sigh, causing Dan’s eyes to flit up. Phil’s eyes are squeezed tightly shut, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip. “Fuck,” he bursts out finally. “Okay, I’m sorry. You’re not like. A bad skater. I think you already know that.”

Dan can feel the tension beginning to seep out of his shoulders just from this half-compliment, and he kind of hates himself for it. “But?”

“But there’s something I want to show you. C’mon.” The ice grinds beneath Phil skates as he starts making his way towards the main gate.

“Is it your cock?” Dan calls after him. He can see the eye roll from here. “I thought we were going to skate?”

“Raincheck?” Phil looks down at his skates. “I, erm, assume you saw me fall earlier?”

Dan nods despite the guilt crawling up to expand in his throat. He swallows it down. “Yeah, I did. But, uh, I mean to your credit, I wouldn’t even attempt whatever jump that was you did.”

Phil looks up, laughs humourlessly. “A triple lutz. They used to be my specialty. Anyway, It turns out that I’m also pretty shit at distributing my weight. I am now, at least. I, uh, strained my knee on that jump, so I should probably get out of these skates and try not to fuck it up any more.” Shaking his head, he turns and takes his first step off the ice.

“Specialty?” Dan murmurs to himself. Phil used to have an ice skating specialty. One that involved actually jumping off the ice. It’s only a moment later that he registers the second thing Phil just said. “Wait!” he calls out, skating towards the gate he entered the rink at - the one Phil’s just used to step off the ice. He slows down as he approaches the wall. “Are you hurt?”

With a small, sad smile, Phil turns back to look at him. “Nothing a little ice won’t fix.” He sits down on the bench beside gate while Dan uses the wall as a support to help himself off the ice.

Dan sits down on the opposite bench as Phil begins untying his laces. He won’t say it out loud, but Dan is glad for the excuse to take his skates off instead of walking back to the changing rooms in them. If Phil can take his off out here, then Dan will just do the same. He reaches down, tugs at his laces until they loosen. It’s always ten times harder to get the skates off than it is to put them on, so he gets to work, trying to wiggle them off of his feet one at a time.

He isn’t having much luck. Phil’s are already lying on the floor next to his feet, just another testament to how foolish Dan had been to challenge him in the first place. He got lucky with Phil’s forfeit, although from his view of the way Phil’s currently hunched over and massaging his knee with the palm of his hand, Dan doesn’t actually feel all too great about it.

Phil looks up at Dan from beneath his lashes. “Need some help?”

Dan nods silently and sticks his foot out to make it more accessible to Phil, but Phil just drops down to press his good knee into the floor.

“Bit too soon for a proposal, don’t you think?” Dan teases as Phil fiddles with the laces to loosen them up a bit more.

“You know, I could just let you keep these on and laugh as you stumble around in them.”

“Philip,” Dan gasps, “were you watching me? I knew it. I’m irresistible, aren’t I?” He winks.

“Embarrassingly comedic is more like it,” Phil mutters, although his cheeks have gone pink again. He tugs on the heel of Dan’s boot and it gives up its tight grip on his foot. “Okay, now point your toes.” Dan does as he’s told, and the skate slips easily off of his foot. Phil sets it on the floor like he’d done with his own.

Dan whistles. “Wow. Do you do this kind of thing often? For the record, when I say ‘this kind of thing’ I mean ‘help guys who really want to bang you undress from their skates.’”

Phil rolls his eyes. “Do you have an off switch?”

Dan reaches behind himself with a smirk. “Yeah,” he says, pointing to his bum, “it’s right around here.”

“Jesus Christ,” Phil mutters as he starts working on the second boot. “Something tells me that only winds you up more.” He tugs the skate over Dan’s foot and sets it on the floor next to the first. “Now come on. I need to go get some ice on my knee and wrap it up.”

Dan watches as he uses his hands to push himself up off the ground, careful not to jostle his right knee in any way. Following suit, Dan picks his skates up off the ground and grabs Phil’s also. “I know you’re going to turn me down,” he says, “but you’re welcome to use me as support if you need to hobble.”

To Dan’s surprise, Phil slings an arm around his shoulder without a word.

“Oh,” Dan breathes. He shuffles the pair of skates in his right hand to under his left arm, slipping his now free hand around to grip Phil’s waist. “Is this, erm, is this okay?” he says quietly.

“Yeah.”

They make their way slowly and wordlessly, the newly shared intimate space drawing even Dan into a precarious silence. He’s afraid that if he opens his mouth, this bubble that they’ve built around themselves will burst. His heart thumping against his ribcage is the only thing tethering him to reality right now. Each beat feels like there’s a bird trapped in his chest, flapping its wings relentlessly in the hopes that enough friction will set it free.

Luckily, Phil’s office isn’t too far away. There’s a hallway just after the changing room entrance, and all the way at the left on the end is the office.

When they reach it, Phil pushes the door open and flicks on the light. “You can have a seat,” he says, pointing to the armchair near the far wall. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

Dan watches warily as he hobbles towards his desk on his own. It’s only when Phil makes it to his desk chair without incident that Dan lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in. He strolls over to the armchair and plops himself down on it.

With Phil busy rummaging around in something beneath his desk, Dan is free to look around his office. He hasn’t thought about it enough to have any real expectations, but for some reason he finds the orderliness of the room surprising. Phil’s sat at a large mahogany desk in the corner opposite Dan. It has a computer with two monitors, a picture frame, a coffee mug, a pair of glasses, and what appears to be a page from a newspaper on it, but otherwise, it’s bare. A couple filing cabinets line the wall opposite the desk, but they too have nothing on them. It’s very...plain.

In fact, the only real decoration he can spot in the whole room is a staggered row of shelves built into the wall next to Phil’s desk. On each of them is a collection of trophies, medals hung neatly around their necks. Dan probably wouldn’t have even noticed them if he hadn’t a glimpse of a glare reflecting off their surface.

“That’s a lot of trophies,” he says, finally breaking the silence. “So you’re an ice skater? Like competitively?”

Phil looks up from the ace bandage he’s been steadily winding around his knee while Dan’s been distracted. “Was.” His voice cracks. “I was a competitive ice skater.” He opens his mouth as if he wants to say more, but then closes it abruptly.

Dan doesn’t know how much more he should push, but he’s willing to test the waters if it means getting to know this man a little bit more. “It looks like you were a pretty damn good one,” he prompts, nodding to the shelves.

“Erm…” Phil turns his attention back to his knee so he can finish wrapping it up. “Yeah, I was alright.” His voice shakes. “I was better than alright, actually. I was on the track to the Olympics, but then I made a rookie mistake and...well, long story short, I tore my ACL.”

Dan sucks in a breath. “Oh my God,” he says softly. “I’m so sorry.” He doesn’t know what all a torn ACL entails, but he knows that it’s ruined careers for a lot of unlucky athletes. And if Phil is here instead of out on the ice, Dan’s pretty sure that he was one of the unlucky ones.

“Me too,” Phil whispers. “Me too.” He shakes his head and turns to tuck the end of his bandage beneath another layer, clipping it in place. With a sigh, he looks back up at Dan. “I was trying to do a triple lutz when you came out to the rink earlier. Just to see if I could do it. I mean, the doctor told me when I came out of surgery that I’d never be able to skate competitively again. I think a part of me has always held out hope that I’d be able to land jumps eventually, though.”

Dan nods. He knows what that feels like. He knows how it feels to chase after something even when the odds are against you. “So what did you do? After they told you you wouldn’t be able to compete again?”

“I, uh-” Phil laughs darkly.“I did a lot of moping for about a year. And then I signed on to be a coach to some younger skaters for a couple years. But I found out that just wasn’t a good fit for me. It was just this painful reminder of everything that I’d had to leave behind.” He presses his palm into his knee and looks up towards the ceiling, letting out a long sigh. “So as soon as my contracts ended, I moved out here and used some of the money I’d saved up to buy this place. Part of me wishes that I could just leave it all behind. But I’ve tried, and every time I do it’s like I can hear the ice calling out to me. Like we have unfinished business. I don’t know, I probably sound like a freak.”

“No,” Dan says, “no, not at all. That’s how I feel about writing.”

“You’re a writer?” Phil’s eyebrows shoot up.

Dan laughs, bringing a hand up to run his fingers through his hair. “Uh, yeah. Not a very good one, but yeah.”

Phil frowns. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Tell that to every publisher I’ve sent my manuscript to in the past two years.”

Phil’s frown deepens, his eyebrows scrunching together in a way that’s both endearing and maddeningly practiced. “Well fuck them. You’ll get it published. I know you will.”

Dan sighs, ruffling his hair again. “Thanks. Really, thank you.” Part of him is afraid that his earnestness makes him sound like a bit of a loon, but mostly he just feels relieved. He’s forgotten how it feels to sit down and have a conversation with someone who actually listens to what he’s saying.

“You will,” Phil says softly before clearing his throat. “Anyway, I, uh, I just wanted to say that I wasn’t trying to like. Insult you earlier today. You’re a decent skater and you skate with confidence, which is half the battle sometimes. There are just some techniques that could help you skate a little more smoothly if you’d learned via a trainer.” He scratches his head. “I could teach you sometime, if you want. And your niece, too. What’s her name again?”

“Maggie,” Dan answers automatically. He pauses for a beat, letting a smile spread slowly across his face. “So you could teach me some techniques, huh?”

Phil blinks. “Aaaaand he’s back.” Shaking his head, he stands up from the desk chair and tests out his knee. It seems to be holding up from what Dan can see. “C’mon,” Phil says with a sigh, the small smile tugging at his lips betraying his apparent annoyance. “Let me buy you a drink. I did technically forfeit after all.”