#it seems like such a fuckin sandbox game

[quitefair]

I can’t wait to make my fuckin bronze dragonborn paladin when I download bg3 tmrw… I’ve been salivating for days now…. Yelling screaming crying throwing up…

[rotting-ink]

if you had to give any advice to someone wanting to write an interactive fiction story, what would it be? (take ur time, no rush, im just curious, i myself read tons of them and get sad when i like a premise or the story doesnt get updates n all that, i wanna eventually write one myself and avoid giving ppl the sad feeling i get when i find smth that sounds fun only to see its been years or the writing isnt what i thought itd be)

Makes sure its an idea you're excited for and would want to stick with. Legitimately don't write it immediately. You have to be excited for it and want to keep at it.

Yeah a fun idea is great but will you keep at it after a month of mulling it over? You have to make sure it has other good ideas you're excited for in there too.

Its why I do think there are all those WIPS on Itch.io, because they get excited for the main idea they have for it but don't feel excited for the smaller parts of the game.

But a big part is that you want to write a game that you would want to play. For example, some of my favourite games have really fun dynamics with your companions, i.e Baldur's Gate, Mass Effect etc, and should have the ability to have a dedicated hang out event.

I adored Dragon Age Origins, for the... Well, origins you get to pick in the game, and how it can impact future gameplay. So, I wanted to have something similar to Tabris, Cousland etc.

I liked Wayhaven a lot but I didn't like that the RO's are all vampires but do not act as such. They could just be "demons" that feed off blood, because they don't act at all like vampires. They go in the sun, they don't seem to care that much about blood, etc etc So I wanted to have any vampire ROs being actual... Yknow, vampires. Take S Della Rovere out in the sun and they will burst into flame, and so all their hang outs have to be done at night.

I fuckin love DoL, and it isn't a linear game, but I enjoyed the sandbox qualities and the sexual content, so I wanted similar aspects.

Also I just like the regency era, I like the supernatural, I like murder mysteries and I like seeing relationships after the actual first flirt and get together etc.

You have to find a way to put a lot of what you want to see and do into your interactive fiction, and you gotta take inspiration where you can.

It has to be something you want to return to, even when time has passed.

[6ad6ro]

hey so uhh breath of the wild 2 looks totally uninteresting. "i put a mushroom on my shield" like okay we only wanted dungeons and the hookshot and music and modifying the durability system to be less annoying. but instead you decide fans wanted... leaf arrows?? the sandbox/physics stuff was always just the garnish. why would you focus on the garnish?

to me the only thing the gameplay preview did was show what WASN'T in the game. is that why they put it off for so long? i didn't hear world map music (don't even start with the shitty horse "music"). the durability seems as dogshit as ever. it seems like they might topload all your "items" (abilities) like in the first game, and they all looked pretty uninteresting. only seeming to exist to circumvent the botw mechanics people hated. fuckin lame.

[snarky-synesthete]

I love playing in the fandom sandbox because everyone is playing such different games with the toys. Your headcanons are so precious and I love them! And I see Furfur in a wildly different light:

I think he’s cleverer than he seems. I think he designed the infernal polaroid and his batshit cobbled-together Requisitions computer. Nobody in Hell gives a shit because it’s just weirdly-warped human junk, so Furfur doesn’t think it’s very impressive either. (It is, though. Just don’t tell him. He’s not terribly ambitious but he can get REAL conceited. This makes him easy to manipulate, because he’s so easily flattered.)

I think he’s creative. Not in a generative, imaginative way like Crowley…but in a sort of “intuitive leap” kind of way. Problem-solving, fine-print-manipulating kind of way. A bit like Aziraphale’s “I Have Never Actually Broken A Rule” vibe.

I think he has a fuckin’ mean streak. I can’t see him nurturing anything - I think if something’s out of sight he kinda forgets about it. Neglectful, I guess. But yeah, mean…when he thinks he can get away with it. Not that he often can, since he isn’t exactly high up the Infernal ladder.

I think he’s lonely…like all the Immortals, Angelic AND Infernal. It makes him too much of a try-hard, wanting to be seen as impressive. He doesn’t care how or why…just wants to be seen doing something - anything - impressive. Someone please notice this creature.

And we all agree he an unhealthy fixation on Crowley, right? @heavenslittlehellion ???

tapping the mic. is this thing on.

send me ur furfur headcanons.

[sunjaesol]

THE MANY CRUSHES OF LUKE PATTERSON... AND THE ONE THAT STUCK

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

1982

Luke Patterson's first crush ever was Haley Martin. He adored the colour of her hair — like the clementines his mom bought — and the way she finger-painted, enough for his four year old eyes to stare at her in awe.

He watched her make mud pies in the sandbox from the monkey bars, only to ruin them to get a rise out of her. He couldn't understand why she didn't like him the way he did, so he nagged his mom to explain.

"Teasing girls should be fun for them too, sweetheart," she soothed. "This Haley clearly didn't like it."

He blinked. "Huh?"

Her smile stayed warm, similar to hot chocolate and whenever grandpa conjured candies from behind his ear. "Why don't you share your grapes with her tomorrow? I'm sure she'll like that."

His nose scrunched up. "Why?"

"Because it's sweet, Luke."

"I don't get that," he shrugged. "But I'll try."

The next day, he sat beside her during storybook time and that seemed to help a little already. By the time it was lunch, her mood was lifted, which excited him too, and urged him to offer the grapes.

It earned him a featherlight kiss on the cheek.

Luke squeaked in surprise, flushing a firetruck red, to which she giggled and plopped another grape in her mouth.

Three days later, his crush was gone from his mind and he began sharing his grapes with his new friend Reginald instead.

1986

"Can you ask Jessica what she thinks of me?" Luke hurriedly whispered, eyes flickering between Reggie and the girl from across the courtyard.

Normally, Luke Patterson exuded confidence. The resident class clown, always opening his jaw to react to the teacher without raising his hand, catching fights with stupid classmates, sneaking into dad's stationwagon to create mixtapes.

Fearlessness was his freaking middle name. (It was actually Beck, but whatever. He wished it was something cool like Duran Duran though.)

But when it came to girls... he got so nervous. Because they were girls! He didn't understand them! They hated rambunctious boys and only listened to stupid pop music and blabbered about how they stole makeup from their sisters.

Jessica, however, somehow made his heart flutter and his stomach twist up. She just looked cool in her dungarees and she had a pretty smile and she didn't wear that overwhelming, sugary perfume that was now popular.

Reggie snickered, in the way only eight year old boys could. "You liiiiiiike her!"

"No!" He scowled. "I–I'm just curious."

"Sure," he drawled, but then shrugged in agreement, the oversized leather jacket rustling on his shoulders. He stole it from his older brother after he saw him kissing (!!!) some girl and figured it held some magic to impress the ladies with.

"Just do it!"

With a dramatic flourish, the boy left their hiding spot, Luke lurking around the corner of the alcove to watch. Jessica looked up from her hard work of creating friendship bracelets and smiled at Reggie.

Oh, gosh. She was pretty.

A minute later, a sheepish Reg slowly crawled back to him, cheeks red and fiddling with the zipper of his jacket.

Luke grabbed his shoulders, urgent. "What did she say?"

"Uh... well..."

"C'mon, dude!"

Reggie sighed. "She... likes me, buddy. Sorry."

His hopeful face crashed into one of devestation, quickly covering it up with a laugh and a squeeze of the shoulder. Oh, man, what would Steven Tyler do?

"That– that's dope!"

In the end, Reggie and Jessica were boyfriend and girlfriend for a week while he wrote an angry poem about how stupid dungarees were.

Huh... it was surprisingly good.

1988

"Hey, Luke," Gwenn greeted, shy, tucking her hands in her Camp Wacky Rocka hoodie. "I really liked that song you made about your guitar."

Jumping from the tree branch to the ground, Luke dazzled her with an appreciative smile. From above, Reggie and their new friend Alex watched on curiously.

"Thanks!"

Who would've thought that summer camp would be the first time he made a real, girl friend! Gwenn was super cool and she played the saxophone and she liked Joan Jett and her hair was all curly and big and it reminded him of pretty clouds.

Looking over her shoulder, he noticed a gaggle of girls staring at them. Like they were waiting.

Gwenn stared at him. "Can you close your eyes?"

He frowned. "Why?"

"Just 'cause."

Whatever. Maybe she wanted to show him something cool and would stick it in his hand. Complying, he closed his eyes and impatiently waited, bouncing on his heels.

"So?"

Suddenly, he felt a light, warm touch on his mouth and — oh! She was kissing him!

Luke staggered back in surprise, gawking at a blushing Gwenn as she squeaked a sorry and ran back to the now giggling and screeching girls. They ran away like a flock of birds.

It was a dare! His first kiss, stolen by a dare!

His boys jumped down beside him, awed.

Reggie hollered. "You kissed Gwenn!"

"I don't get it," Alex muttered.

Luke's face twisted up in a sour expression. Camp Wacky Rocka should be all about the music and becoming legends and Gwenn ruined it!

He stuck his tongue out. "Whatever. Let's go to the mess hall!"

1989

When Luke turned eleven, he kissed someone for real.

His birthday party was at the arcade, loud chatter and robotic sounds clashing together in an amazing cacophony. His parents hated the place, which is why Luke loved it.

Of the twenty guests, Yasmine clapped the loudest after he finished his song with the boys — Math Is For Losers! — and grabbed his hand as they walked to a duel game.

Luke felt fuckin' giddy the entire time. (Freakin' in front of his parents, fuckin' with friends.) The swoop in his stomach, his cheeks stretched into a wide beam.

Freshly eleven and the king of the arcade, he boldly asked if he could kiss her.

She smiled, her purple headband glittering in the neon lights, and nodded.

It was short and warm and her lips tasted like pink lemonade and sour gummies and it gave him an entirely new buzz. It was exciting.

He kissed her a couple more times the days after, eager and curious, until she claimed she was now only interested in twelve year old boys.

Since Luke now held the record of most kisses between him, Alex and Reggie, he wasn't too bothered by it. They shook hands, complimented each other on the kissing, and that was that.

1992

"Are you or are you not my boyfriend?" Olivia bit, crossing her arms.

Luke sighed, lazy gaze drifting from her to his band waiting by their bikes. Damn, he thought having a girlfriend would be way easier. Why was she so tense?

"I am," he said. "Why do you think I'm not?"

"Because you ignore me, like, all the time!" Pouting, she fiddled with the hem of her tartan skirt. "And now you're going to be with your band!"

He shrugged. "You can come with us and listen, if you want."

Luke met Olivia this year as deskmates in French class. Her raven hair was long and thick and her lips were all shiny from lip gloss and maybe he got a little cocky, thinking he could be dating the hottest girl of freshman year, so he naturally asked her out.

Maybe he should've considered beforehand whether they had anything in common, but he'd always been the overzealous type. And besides... she was a good kisser.

She scoffed. "That's not any better. Whatever. I'll just hang with Tina and Priscilla then. Laters!"

Plopping a kiss on his lips, she turned around and stalked to her whispering friends. Luke puffed, adjusted the beanie and made his way to the boys.

Girls were confusing.

"I bet dating boys is easier," Alex mused. "Like, equally terrifying, but also... easier. I think. Maybe."

Bobby laughed. "How's the girlfriend, Luke?"

"Ha ha," he deadpanned. "Let's go. I got this new song, Crooked Teeth, and it's a fucking banger!"

Olivia broke up with him after Sunset Curve's first, official gig at the arcade with the explanation that he loved music more than her. He never loved her to begin with, so maybe that was the problem.

She made out with Bobby that same night.

Holy shit, man. He supposed that bitter feeling at the sight of them tasted like rock 'n roll, the one thing he actually craved.

What a funny, funny feeling. (He wrote a hell of a lot of songs about it after. He never quite looked at Bobby the same way either.)

1995

"Hey, Maisie." Leaning against the locker beside the girl, he shot her a million dollar smile. "You comin' to our gig tonight? It's at The Orpheum."

Maisie was fucking awesome. Always in short, flowery dresses and fishnet tights and thick eyeliner like a rockstar, always listening to something new on her walkman. She came from a rich family, but that didn't hinder them from becoming friends.

Her jaw fell slack in awe, him instantly gaining more confidence. Ducking his head to meet her eye, he leaned a little closer. He knew damn well what he was doing, and he got a thrill every time it worked.

"Really?" She gasped. "That's awesome! I'll so be there!"

"Sweet," he grinned. "And stay after too."

A brow quirked up, intrigued. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Just 'cause."

"Right," she drawled. "Nothing is 'just because' with you, Luke."

"And that's why you gotta stay," he teased, nudging her shoe with his. "To find out."

If they rocked that gig and he felt like a fucking legend, he hoped it would end with the two of them hooking up. He wasn't interested in dating — having learned his lesson after Olivia — and he knew she wasn't either, but she was fun.

And that was the most important to him: to have fucking fun. Luke Patterson was here for a good time, not a long time.

And if nothing happened between him and Maisie, then he'd still feel like a legend. In a couple of hours, he was going to play at The Orpheum! How gnarly was that?!

2022

Twenty-seven years later, Luke was still seventeen years old. While he preferred to not question the science behind ghostly activities — he flunked physics anyway — he was happy that he froze at this age.

Because Julie was seventeen, too.

And, man. He was madly in love with her.

He loved everything, from the babyhairs curling around her ears, to her voice and compassionate soul, to her beautiful smile, all the way to her cute, doodled sneakers.

Her epic music taste, her snark, the way she always found his gaze, the way she finished his lyrics, the way she always knew what to say to make him feel better.

His heart melted to a flickering candle whenever she hugged him, a raging wildfire erupting between every kiss. He was a fool for her.

"Stop moving," she giggled, one hand coming up to hold his chin.

He grinned, "Sorry, Jules."

Shifting closer, she dabbled more glitter on his cheeks. They were playing at a black-light club tonight, so Julie and Flynn bought all the glow in the dark makeup available at the store for the occasion.

They looked ridiculous in daylight, Julie's weirdly pink lipstick claiming all his attention, but he knew they'd look fucking cool once the lights went down.

"You want to watch a movie after the gig?" she whispered.

Luke rolled his eyes, playful. "You're gonna fall asleep."

"Yeah." With a bashful tilt of the shoulder, she leaned in closer. "But then you'll be with me."

"Julie! How scandalous," he teased, though his chest swelled at the thought of having some alone time, some cuddle time, with Julie.

"So?"

Murmuring a yes, he closed the little distance to kiss her, sealing the deal, only for her to chase after him — an attempt to wipe the lipstick stain off his lips.

"Nah, keep it." A smirk grew. "So the people know."

She tsked. "Idiot."

"You like it."

"I'm still taking it off though, seeing as you're supposed to be a hologram," she pointed out. "But... you can kiss my lipstick away after the show."

He sighed, dreamy. "I love you."

Finishing his glitter and removing the stain, she dazzled him with a satisfied smile. "Love you too."

She rose up from the couch and went to search for Reggie, the boy likely with Carlos. For a moment, Luke was alone in the studio, allowing himself to sink into that warm, fuzzy feeling.

No matter how many blunders he went through with girls — Haley, Jessica, Gwenn, Yasmine, Olivia, Maisie — they all prepared him, in one way or the other, for Julie.

To not only recognise when an awesome girl was standing right in front of him, but also how to treat her — because Julie Molina deserved the fucking world.

Even if that world now included the supernatural.

Whatever. They were all a little crazy.

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

@bluefirewrites @blush-and-books @pink-flame @ourstarscollided @constantly-singing @unsaid-emily @willexx

[cherryriotcrash]

Head in the Clouds, Gravity Centered.

Let's have an adventure. Head in the clouds, but my gravity's centered. Touch my neck and I'll touch yours; you in those little high waisted shorts, oh.

Ao3 | Ko-Fi | Join the Taglist | Masterlist

Summary: Don't call it a meet-cute.

Chapter Warnings: Mild violence, swearing, Eri is an agent of chaos, Denki.

18+ | Minors and ageless blogs DNI

All characters depicted are mid 20s or older.

Next Chapter

“YO, GAUNTLETS! ON YOUR LEFT! Gangway or sick bay!”

Katsuki whipped around as he heard the call-out, trying to figure out exactly which fuckin’ extra had the audacity not to use his name. His scarlet eyes fell on you, narrowing as you blew past him to vault and sprinted to Denki, who crouched down, lacing his fingers to create a space for you to step before launching you as high as possible into the air. You twisted your body in the air, rapidly scanning your surroundings, your hi-tech visor rapidly pinging targets as you flew.

“Four enemies spotted inbound, two of them coming in hot on the left, one coming in behind Gauntlets, and another seems to have a civilian hostage of unknown age but is coming in on your right. Descending now!”, the information from your visor transmitted down to Denki’s rapidly as you entered freefall, and he caught you effortlessly.

“And Syncopate sticks the landing with the assist of the ahhh-mazing Chargebolt!”

“Not the time, Denks,” you whip around to face the hero you blew past earlier, “Gauntlets, check your six!”

Katsuki whipped around and delivered an explosive uppercut to the goon behind him, launching him into what was likely controlled airspace.

You smirked, “Nice shot!”

He looked over his shoulder at you, “My name isn’t Gaun—”

“Obviously not, but I don’t care what it is right now,” Katsuki looked as if he’d been slapped across the face, and you continued, “There is a fuckin’ battle happening and one of these Trigger junkies has a hostage! Fix that stupid look on your face and get your head in the game you fuckin’ stanchion!”

You turned in time to see Denki contending with the two enemies approaching on the left and locked onto a nearby hydrant, casting a pointed glare at the hero who looked ready to explode, “You’re mad at me, pretty boy? Good. Prove you’re useful and take it out on that hydrant. Maybe that’ll remind you how your quirk works and light a fire under your ass.”

Katsuki glanced at it and sent a precision shot towards it, destroying it and sending water cascading around you all. You radioed your plan to Denki, who hastily agreed, and you took off in his direction.

“Boom boy, find the hostage! We got it here!”

He felt glued to the spot as he watched you launch yourself onto Denki’s back and press the pointer and middle fingers of both hands to his temples, “Ready, Sparky Boy?”

“As always, Zappy Girl.”

You channeled your quirk through your fingers and into his temples, increasing his power and voltage resistance limit. You looked over your shoulder and saw the exploding hero still standing there stupidly and covered in water.

“GET OUT OF THE IMPACT ZONE BEFORE WE ZAP THAT STUPID LOOK OFF OF YOUR FACE!" you shouted, voice slightly panicked, "FIND DRY LAND, NOT ON TOP OF A BUILDING, NOW!”

Your words seemed to break his trance and he blindly launched himself out of the way and into a nearby park, landing in a dry sandbox. You sighed in relief as Denki went off, downing the approaching enemies. You hopped off his shoulders and sprinted towards the remaining enemy with a hostage, passing the time bomb as you went.

“You gonna come save a hostage or not, stanchion?”

You put your bright yellow visor on the skittish little boy, smoothing his cinnamon hair. You'd gained his trust by showing him a trick with your quirk, arcing electricity from finger to finger like a bunny before asking if he’d like to try. You knelt behind him and made sure both of your feet were firmly on dry ground before gently grabbing his wrists and pressing your pointer and middle fingers to the sides of both his hands. Using yourself as a grounding point as you sent the spark up his arm and across his fingers, sending him giggling at the tickle and his tears finally drying.

Now, you cradled him in your lap and hummed sweetly, rocking gently as he gazed at your visor’s demo settings, mesmerizing him. Shoto and Denki went to approach the two of you and you shook your head no, then asked the little boy if he wanted to watch cartoons on the visor. He squealed happily as you used your watch to recalibrate it to a popular kids’ cartoon in the area, eventually relaxing back into you as you rocked him, thumb in his mouth. You asked him a few test questions like his age (he held up four fingers, and you high fived him for it), where he was from (he stumbled over Saitama Prefecture), and who his favorite hero was (A name you didn't recognize) before moving on to more pressing questions, setting up your visor to record the conversation.

“Hey there pumpkin, do you know where your mommy or daddy are?”

He looked up at you with bright blue eyes, shaking his head no.

“Do you know your address?”

Denki and Shoto looked on as you continued to ask the child about the incident, as gently as possible, praising him for answering you and ensuring he knew he wasn’t in trouble if he couldn’t answer. The conversation transmitted from your headset to both of theirs.

“(Y/N) is great with kids, isn’t she, Shoto?”

“Very, it was a strong reason she was hired. Did you know the trick she does with the lightning is called ‘Bunny Bolt’? It was on her resume.”

Denki pouted, “She never taught me how to do it...or that it has a name.”

“I wouldn’t teach you either, your power is…less subtle.”

Denki pouted dramatically, and the thudding of boots let them know Katsuki had finally decided to reappear after giving the police a report. Denki smiled back at him, “Hey, Kats! Wanna hear something cool?”

He nodded his head towards the child in your lap, “(Y/N) is currently interviewing that child and asked who his favorite hero was. Wanna guess the answer?”

“I don’t know, Deku? Why should I c--”

“Dynamight.”

Katsuki couldn’t fight the shit eating grin on his face as he changed radio channels to listen in, “What can I say, little dude has good taste!”

His voice carried on the wind and the child’s eyes snapped up as he squealed. Katsuki watched your eyes narrow at him and roll before returning attention to the child with a much softer look, voice coming through the radio.

Y/N: Who’s that, pumpkin?

DYNAMIGHT!

You looked up at them for a fact check and Denki snorted before nodding and giving a thumbs up. You looked puzzled and alarmed, and Shoto responded via radio to confirm that no, Dynamight was not accustomed to children and usually terrified them.

Denki giggled, “She wasn’t kidding when she said she had no clue who you are.”

“I will wait until that child isn’t looking and quite literally blow your fucking mind if you don’t shut up right now, you glorified charging station.”

Y/N: That sure is Dynamight! Good eye!

Katsuki tried to ignore the pleasant spark in his brain that came from hearing you gently coo his hero name into the child’s ear, and Denki fought back a smirk as he watched Katsuki's cheeks flush pink.

Y/N: How would you like to meet him?

The child’s excited squeal spiked the mic and both Denki and Katsuki looked at each other in alarm. Shoto shrugged and beckoned them forward, “Well, you do need to work on your skills when interacting with kids.”

You picked the child up and put him on your hip, looking directly at Katsuki and gesturing at him to follow what you were doing before walking towards the trio. Katsuki didn’t protest, knowing this was not up for debate from your expression and realizing he did need to work on his skills with kids.

You tapped your wrists subtly, and he carefully removed his gauntlets and set them aside, noting how you were holding and carrying the child. The little boy squirmed in your arms and you squatted to put him down, Katsuki mimicking your squat. You let the child go and put your hands forward as if picking him up, and Katuski mirrored, the child running directly into his hands. He stood up and put the child on his hip, the little boy squealing joyfully as Katsuki bounced him up to sit on top of his utility belt like a seat. You gave him a thumbs up, and he smiled at the child.

“Hey there little dude, heard you got good taste in heroes!”

“Where the fuck is he?!”

Katsuki turned away from his locker, trying to figure out what was causing the commotion outside. Normally, he was the one responsible for high volume office antics, but this time the yelling sounded feminine and he felt sorry for whatever poor fuck would be on the business end of that kind of fury.

“Calm dow—”

“I will short circuit you if you don’t get out of my goddamn way.”

Denki let out a scream that could give Eri a run for her money as the locker room door flew open with a loud crash, chaos spilling into the locker room. Katsuki saw a black and yellow streak come charging towards him then grunted as your boot made contact with the center of his bare chest and slammed him into the wall of lockers, your other foot firmly planted on the bench to make up for the height variance.

Well, shit. Turns out he’s the poor fuck.

“What the hell?” he spat, one large hand wrapping around your ankle.

You pressed your boot in harder, “Hey there, Gauntlets, maybe the next time I tell you to get the fuck out of the way, you listen the first time.”

Katsuki knocked your foot off his chest, and you rested your ankle atop his shoulder instead, never breaking eye contact.

“Who the fuck do you think you a—”

“(F/N) (L/N) is who the fuck I am, Dynamight, or you can call me Syncopate.”

His grimace deepened when you sarcastically emphasized his hero name, and he scoffed, “The name’s Katsuki Bakugo, and I’m the number tw—”

You scoffed, “I don’t give a shit about your hero ranking, Boom Boy. Maybe focus less on bragging rights and more on situational awareness.” You removed your leg from his shoulder, “You could have fucking died, you vapid, self-centered reprobate!”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve for some fucking new hire. I had it covered, it’s not like I’ve never been hit with Sparky’s quirk before.”

You bit back the urge to start yelling again, “No, what you had was a hero suit covered in water while you stood in a puddle with a stupid ass expression on your face, and as far as me being a new hire goes, I’ve been here for a whopping two weeks and I can already tell you’re the most reckless fuck here. How could you possibly have had that kind of situation covered with critical information missing? Do you even know what my quirk does?”

Katsuki opened his mouth to answer, and you scowled, “Shut the fuck up, that was a rhetorical question. I know that you don’t. The answer is that I control electrical impulses, making them stronger or weaker as needed. When I told you to clear out, it’s because I was boosting Denki’s output ten fucking fold, so you absolutely did not have it covered. That is why I’m a mile high fucking fire right now.”

Katsuki’s mouth remained open for a moment, then snapped shut. He scoffed at you, looking away.

You grabbed his chin to force him to look you in the eye, leaning your face dangerously close to his before whispering, “I don’t know who hyped your head up, but if you can’t work in a team then you ain’t shit to be impressed with, Katsuki.” You drew out his name by syllable, hissing the “s” in his name, “My respect is earned, not given, and I meant it when I told you ‘gangway or sick bay’. Next time I won’t stop you from stupidly choosing sick bay. Number two hero? My fucking ass.”

You sent a brief zap into his jaw and released him, leaving him pressed against the lockers and sauntering off.

Right as you got to the door, you stopped for a moment, "Oh, and by the way? Kids look good on you. Maybe if you were less of a phallus, you'd have a couple."

He stood stock-still as Eri appeared in the doorway and cleared her throat, the teen shaking her swear jar at you.

“What’s my damage, sparkle?”

“Uh…fifteen dollars. I think. What’s a reprobate?”

“Not a swear word, even though it feels like it should be one,” you quipped, “But for educational purposes, it’s someone who causes problems, usually on purpose.”

“Fourteen dollars, then.” You two headed out of the locker room while debating whether damn should count towards the swear jar while Denki carefully poked his head around the corner, “You…uh…you good, Kats?”

“Well, I’m not dead, but I do have a boner so…that’s fuckin’ new.”

“I heard that, Gauntlets!” you called back from up the hall, “Don’t make it weird!”

Next Chapter

[queenlua]

hey, i started following you recently and ur bio says ur a hacker? any tips on where to start? hacking seems like a v cool/fun way to learn more abt coding and cybersecurity/infrastructure and i'd like to explore it but there's so much on the internet and like, i'm not trying to get into anything illegal. thanks!

huh, an interesting question, ty!

i can give more tailored advice if you hit me up on chat with more specifics on your background/interests.

given what you've written here, though, i'll just assume you don't have any immediate professional aspirations (e.g. you just want to learn some things, and you aren't necessarily trying to get A Cyber Security Job TM within the next three months or w/e), and that you don't know much about any specific programming/computering domain yet.

(stuff under cut because long)

first i'd probably just try to pick some interesting problem that you think you can solve with tech. this doesn't need to be a "hacking" project at first; i was just messing around with computers for ages before i did anything involving security/exploitation.

if you don't already know how to program, you should ideally pick a problem you can solve via programming. for instance: i learned a lot back in the 2000s, when play-by-post forum RPGs were in vogue.  see, i'd already been messing around, building my own personal sites, first just with HTML & CSS, and later on with Javascript and PHP.   and i knew the forum software everyone used (InvisionPowerBoard) was written in PHP.  so when one of the admins at my RPG complained that they'd like the ability to set multiple profile pictures, i was like, "hey i'm good at programming, want me to create a mod to do that," and then i just... did. so then they asked me to program more features, and i got all the sexy nerd cred for being Forum Mod Queen, and it was a good time, i learned a lot.

(i also got to be the person who was frantically IMed at 2am because wtf the forum is down and there's an inscrutable error, what do??? basically sysadmining! also, much less sexy! still, i learned a lot!)

the key thing is that it's gotta be a problem that's interesting to you: as much as i love making dorky sites in PHP, half the fun was seeing other people using my stuff, and i think the era of forum-based RPGs has passed. but maybe you can apply some programming talents to something that you are interested in—maybe you want to make a silly Chrome extension to make people laugh, a la Cloud to Butt, or maybe you'd like to make a program that converts pixel art into cross-stitching patterns, maybe you want to just make a cool adventure game on those annoying graphing calculators they make you use in class, or make a script for some online game you play, or make something silly with Arduino (i once made a trash can that rolled toward me when i clapped my hands; it was fun, and way easier than you'd think!), whatever.

i know a lot of hacker-types who got their start doing ROM hacking for video games—replacing the character art or animations or whatever in old NES games. that's probably more relevant than the PHP websites, at least, and is probably a solid place to get started; in my experience those communities tend to be reasonably friendly to questions. pick a small thing you want to do & ask how to do it.

also, a somewhat unconventional path, but—once i knew how to program a bit of Python, i started doing goofy junk, like, "hey can i implemented NamedTuple from scratch,” which tends to lead to Python metaprogramming, which leads to surprising shit like "oh, stack frames are literally just Python objects and you can manually edit them in the interpreter to do deliberately horrendous/silly things, my god this language allows too much reflection and i'm having too much fun"... since Python is a lot of folks' first language these days, i thought i'd point that out, since i think this is a pretty accessible start to thinking about How Programs Actually Work under the hood. allison kaptur has some specific recommendations on how to poke around, if you wanna go that route.

it's reasonably likely you'll end up doing something "hackery" in the natural course of just working on stuff. for instance, while i was working on the IPB forum software mods, i became distressed to learn that everyone was using an INSECURE version of the software! no one was patching their shit!! i yelled at the admins about it, and they were like "well we haven't been hacked yet so it's not a problem," so i uh, decided to demonstrate a proof of concept? i downloaded some sketchy perl script, kicked it until it worked, logged in as the admins, and shitposted a bit before i logged out, y'know, to prove my point.

(they responded by banning me for two weeks, and did not patch their software. which, y'know, rip to them; they got hacked by an unrelated Turkish group two months later, and those dudes just straight-up deleted the whole website. i was a merciful god by comparison!)

anyway, even though downloading a perl script and just pointing it at a website isn't really "hacking" (it's the literal definition of script kiddie, heh)—the point is i was just experimenting a lot and trying a lot of stuff, which meant i was getting comfortable with thinking of software as not just some immutable relic, but something you can touch and prod in unexpected ways.

this dovetails into the next thing, which is like, just learn a lot of stuff. a boring conventional computer science degree will teach you a lot (provided you take it seriously and actually try to learn shit); alternatively, just taking the same classes as a boring conventional computer science degree, via edX or whatever free online thingy, will also teach you a lot. ("contributing to open source" also teaches you a lot but... hngh... is a whole can of worms; send a follow-up ask if you want that rant.)

here's where i should note that "hacking" is an impossibly broad category: the kind of person who knows how to fuck with website authentication tokens is very different than someone who writes a fuzzer, who is often quite different than someone who looks at the bug a fuzzer produces and actually writes a program that can exploit that bug... so what you focus on depends on what you're interested in. i imagine classes with names like "compilers," "operating systems," and "networking" will teach you a lot. but, like, idk, all knowledge is god-breathed and good for teaching. hell, i hear some universities these days have actual computer security classes? that's probably a good thing to look at, just to get a sense of what's out there, if you already know how to program.

also be comfortable with not knowing everything, but also, learn as you go. the bulk of my security knowledge came when i got kinda airdropped into a work team that basically hired me entirely on "potential" (lmao), and uh, prior to joining i only had the faintest idea what a hypervisor was? or the whole protection ring concept? or ioctls or sandboxing or threat models or, fuck, anything? i mostly just pestered people with like 800 questions and slowly built up a knowledge base, and remember being surprised & delighted when i went to a security conference a year later and could follow most of the talks, and when i wound up at a bar with a guy on the xbox security team and we compared our security models a bunch, and so on.  there wasn't a magic moment when i "got it", i was just like, "okay huh this dude says he found a ring-0 exploit... what does that mean... okay i think i got that... why is that a big deal though... better ask somebody.." (also: reading an occasional dead tree book is a good idea. i owe my firstborn to Robert Love's Linux Kernel Development, as outdated as it is, and also O'Reilly's kookaburra book gave me a great overview of web programming back in the day, etc.  you can learn a lot by just clicking around random blogs, but you’ll often end up with a lot of random little facts and no good mental scaffolding for holding it together; often, a decent book will give you that scaffolding.)

(also, it's pretty useful if you can find a knowledgable someone to pepper with random questions as you go. finding someone who will actively mentor you is tricky, but most working computery folks are happy to tell you things like "what you're doing is actually impossible, here's why," or "here's a tutorial someone told me was good for learning how to write a linux kernel module," or "here's my vague understanding of this concept you know nothing about," or "here's how you automate something to click on a link on a webpage," which tends to be handier than just google on its own.)

if you're reading this and you're like "ok cool but where's the part where i'm handed a computer and i gotta break in while going all hacker typer”—that's not the bulk of the work, alas! like, for sure, we do have fun pranking each other by trying dumb ways of stealing each other's passwords or whatever (once i stuck a keylogger in a dude's keyboard, fun times). but a lot of my security jobs have involved stuff like, "stare at this disassembly a long fuckin' time to figure out how the program pointer got all fucked up," or, "write a fuzzer that feeds a lot of randomized input to some C++ program, watch the program crash because C++ is a horrible language for writing software, go fix all the bugs," or "think Really Hard TM about all the settings and doohickeys this OS/GPU/whatever has, think about all the awful things someone could do with it, threat model and sandbox accordingly." occasionally i have done cool proof-of-concept hacks but honestly writing exploits can kinda be tedious, lol, so like, i'm only doing that if it's the only way i can get people to believe that Yes This Is Actually A Problem, Fix Your Code

"lua that's cool and all but i wanted, like, actual links and recommendations and stuff" okay, fair. here's some ideas:

microcorruption: very fun embedded security CTF; teaches you everything you need to know as you're doing it.

cryptopals crypto challenges: very fun little programming exercises that teach you a lot of fundamental cryptography concepts as you're going along! you can do these even as a bit of a n00b; i did them in Python for the lulz

the binary bomb lab is hilariously copied by, like, so many CS programs, lol, but for good reason. it's accessible and fun and is the first time most people get to feel like a real hacker! (requires you know a bit of C beforehand)

ctftime is a good way to see when new CTFs ("capture the flag"s; security-focused competitions) are coming up. or, sometimes CTFs post their source code, so you can continue trying them after the CTF is over. i liked Stripe's CTFs when they were going, because they focused on "web stuff", and "web stuff" was all i really knew at the time. if you're more interested in staring at disassembly, there's CTFs focused on that sort of thing too.

azeria has good ARM assembly & exploitation tutorials

also, like, lots of good talks out there; just watching defcon/cansecwest/etc talks until something piques your interest is very fun. i'd die on a battlefield for any of Christopher Domas's talks, but he assumes a lot of specific x86/OS knowledge, lol, so maybe don’t start with that. oh, Julia Evans's blog is honestly probably pretty good for just learning a lot of stuff and really beginner-friendly?

oh and wrt legality... idk, i haven't addressed it here since it hasn't come up in my own work much, tbh. if you're just getting started you're kind of unlikely to Break The Law without, y'know, realizing maybe you're doing something a bit gray-area? and you can cross that bridge when you come to it? Real Hacking TM is way more of a pain-in-the-ass than doing CTFs and such, and you'll learn way more with the latter, so who cares lol just do the fun thing

[the-luckiest-man]

@jamesafloat said:                                                                                                                            wowowow holy crap. So I’m the guy who made HHR (and who, much to everyone’s chagrin, voiced Joshua and a buncha other NPCs in the mod). In all of the five years since releasing I never saw this take, and it’s easily one of my favorites. Thank you for giving it the benefit of the doubt and for seeing it with a critical eye.    I totally agree with the moments of paternalism with the ‘natives’. I hoped that counselling with Salt-Upon-Wounds, instead of feeling like 'teaching the natives’ would feel like counselling with equals. But it’s not terribly subtle. Amy Wilks’ “witch doctor” business… yeah I get that. I do like the reveal, and I like her… cause of course I do. But 'local crazy lady’ would have been better.      As to Carrie and down’s syndrome… I don’t know if this made it in to the final version but the original intention was not as a cure to down’s but as a cure to seizures to which Carrie was prone. Carrie is a boss, she never needs to change, I probably made some missteps in presenting her but I cared about avoiding ableism.                                                                              And totally agree about Livius’ falling too much into the ‘villainous gay’ trope. If I was writing it now it’d probably be queerer, but likely because I’ve learned a lot in the past few years. I really loved Livius as a character and have been pretty sad to have so many people be annoyed at his place in the plot.                                                                                                                                     

Hey! So excited to see your reply on this post! I hope it’s okay to re-post here (in the most awkward way imaginable because Tumblr is a broken wreck) because I’m super interested in the things you have said.  Hope my review didn’t come off as too vicious ;)  Despite the criticisms I have, I’m still super impressed by all the work you did to bring us the mod; it was obviously a shit-ton, and in my opinion storywise still quite superior to vanilla HH.  While it’s important to be able to criticize the media we all consume and create, I definitely don’t want to downplay or ignore the unpaid labor of love that fan creators do to enlarge this sandbox we all love to play in.

I didn’t get the bit where the cure for Carrie was for her seizures...either it didn’t make it into the final text or I missed that somehow, so that’s awesome to know, cuz I definitely was mad when I thought it was about “curing” her, as herself, LOL!  As I said, I fuckin...I love her.  So much.  I would fight God for her.  Nuff said.

I read a few of the comments on the mod page back when I first downloaded your mod and yeah, people who thought Livius’ storyline was annoying or pointless are bad and wrong, that’s just how it is, sorry, I don’t make the rules.  Like I said, I’m very anti-Legion (oh man I LOL’ed for like, ten minutes straight when Brutus got offed) but I probably spent way more time than is humanly reasonable thinking about Livius’ storyline and imagining how it could turn into some kind of redemption arc (that’s the most fun part of the Gay Villain, of course. The inevitable enemies-to-lovers story you write in your head)  In all, I accept his role as Gay Villain because it was sexy and tragic.  Others’ mileage may differ; I definitely can’t speak for all gays.

The parts about the natives, yeah.  Well, that whole treatment in vanilla HH and in FNV in general needs some serious looking at.  The whole history of the Mormons in Utah and the native tribes there is uhhh....not good, as we know, and the blatant sidestepping of that entire history is just one aspect of how the game in general fails spectacularly when it comes to Native representation.  But there are some native FNV fans here on Tumblr who are re-writing Honest Hearts, as well, with a Native storyline and focus, involving actual tribes and bands who live in that area -- it seems really cool!  I think @comrade-shrimp is heading that effort if you wanted to check it out.  Anyway, thanks again for finding my little review and adding your words!

[veeranger]

 my thoughts on SPV3.2′s rendition of Halo CE’s second level: Halo, which i played about 30 minutes ago. 

please keep in mind these are my subjective opinions based on my single playthrough of the level on normal difficulty, and that i have nothing but respect for the obviously large amount of effort put into this mod by its creators.

i liked this one :)

as you may or may not know, halo (level 2) was where halo (the game) really opened up. level 1 was a lot of tight corridors and claustrophobic rooms, this was intentional game design to get you used to the controls and sandbox in a smaller controlled environment before level 2 drops you into this big open area and says go fucking get em. 

SPV3′s rendition of this level contains this feeling excellently, opening up the game in a big way and letting you run around large open areas even more so than the original. the new content in this mission comes in the form of a large open area with three towers guarded by a ton of enemies and turrets at each, and your objective in this area is to rescue three squads of marines from these towers. gameplay in this area is fun and tight, driving around in the warthog or the gungoose from halo 5 is a blast, just as fun as it should be. its classic halo vehicle combat.

this level’s new content doesnt end there though, there’s another area that’s even better. introducing wraiths very early, this area contains 3 of them all at once as well as a number of ghosts and ground troops for you to mow down. the area features a lot of forerunner structures including an interior area you have to advance up in to hijack an anti air wrath and use it to blow up some dropships. the whole encounter felt like halo at its best, i honestly could see this section right at home in halo 3. as a nice bonus there are plenty of extra hogs scattered all around and tons of marines to fill your seats if you lose a hog or a gunner. its cool to see so many friendly ai around a battlefield even if they didnt seem to be doing much most of the time and still cant drive warthogs due to ai limitations. which is a real shame because it really feels set up to be this huge vehicle battle but alas. 

the gauss hog makes a debut here as well, though it feels a bit powered down from its genuine article counterpart, and it doenst give you a chance to use it until after the vehicle vs vehicle combat is over, unless im dumb and missed it earlier. would not recommend bringing this thing into a battle against foot troops over the chaingun hog, your gunner doesnt seem to be a very good shot with it. still its fun that its in the game and im hoping it will get time to shine later.

as i discussed last time, eventually the new content feeds back into the original stuff, and the mission continues as normal from there, save for new enemies and such. this is where the level starts to drag but thats honestly probably because i dont actually like level 2 all that much anyway, like the normal version i mean. 

oh i also wanted to point out that enemy encounters seem larger on average which is nice, and walking through the battlefield with just like dozens of covenent bodies littering the place was pretty fuckin cool. 

also this mod added back in something from the old 1999 macworld demo back when halo was an RTS, fauna on installation 04! right from the second the level starts you’ll find these big toothed large dog sized animals in packs roaming around. usually theyre neutral and im not sure what set them off but i saw a bunch of them attacking and killing a brute squad which was fucking amazing to see so major props for putting that together. i was never hit by them and i couldnt tell if they were every trying to get me but i think some of them were running at my hog with murderous intent so, thats fun. very very excellent to see something like that added in. 

so bottom line this level was pretty damn good overall. hoping to see some more like it next time i play

[wordywarriorwrites]

Chapter 1: New Blood, Old Flame

Masterlist: The Boss of Brooklyn A03 Link Author: @wordywarriorwrites​ Summary: When it comes to being The Boss, James Buchanan “JB” Barnes rules with an iron fist. For him, there’s no room for sentiment, and certainly no time for distraction, even if it is in the form of an old flame. Steve Rogers had bowed out of the life a long time ago, but a twist of fate brings him right back into the fold, and face-to-face with a man he once loved. When a game of cat and mouse turns into a matter of life and death, both will be forced to decide whether they’ll be loyal to the business, or faithful to each other.  A/N: Bucky Barnes Mob Boss AU. Stucky. For: Star’s Multi-Fandom Follower Celebration & Sherry’s Fall Into You Challenge. Warnings: Language, violence, drug use, alcohol, smoking, explicit sexual content, illegal activities. 

Many Months Earlier…

The greed, the thirst, and the struggle – it was the ultimate, unholy trinity, and the Families lived by it.

They all died by it, too.

Bucky offered condolences he didn’t feel because that was his duty. After all, they’d put a lot of money into the dearly departed. Him, the wife, the house, the Golden Retriever – they hadn’t just looked the part. Their pedigree, educations, and backgrounds had been impeccable, they’d photographed and interviewed so well, and the polling numbers had been more than favorable.

The young senator in the coffin could’ve eventually been President of the United States, but alas, he’d gotten greedy. He’d lost sight of the bigger picture, held out his grasping hand one too many times, and when the Families admonished him and rapped his knuckles, he’d broken the cardinal rule.

He’d threatened to talk and they’d responded accordingly.

After Bucky showed feigned deference to both the corpse and the grieving widow, he planted a small tracking and listening device on her car. The boys in blue and the coroner had ruled the death accidental, but the wife hadn’t been fooled, and though they’d given her more than enough money to keep her mouth shut, she’d been in love with her husband.

Bucky had been in the business long enough to know what loss could do to someone. Anger and righteous indignation always supplanted sadness and self-preservation, and he knew just by the way she behaved at the funeral that she would go to the cops. However, given the high-profile nature of the situation, his gut instinct alone wouldn’t be enough reason for the Families to risk bloodying their hands again so soon.

This would require proof and he had a feeling he was about to get it.    

When he got back to his penthouse, Bucky immediately fired up the laptop, and plugged in a pair of headphones. Eyes glued to the screen, he held his breath; lines of text and code appeared, but in the less than a minute, they cleared, and revealed a location. A few moments later, the radio was turned down, a door open and shut, and as he’d predicted, she talked.  

“That you, JB?”

Bucky yanked the buds from his ears and slammed the laptop shut. He’d forgotten all about his latest bed warmer, and the sight of the naked man both aroused and annoyed him. Though Bucky didn’t normally double-dip with a one-night stand, violence and anger always got his blood pumping, and who he’d witnessed skulking around at the funeral had made him even hornier.

Steve Rogers had been out of the game for five years, and the last time Bucky had seen him, he’d had a duffel bag of cash slung over his shoulder and two remarkably well-made fake identities in his hand. He’d begged Bucky to leave town with him; promised they could have a normal life; insisted things would be better.

Bucky had responded in what had now become his trademark fashion – he’d been cold, blunt, and cruel. He’d called Steve’s notions of escape a pipe dream and a fairy tale. In their world, a happy ending didn’t mean riding off into the sunset; for them, it meant hopefully surviving long enough to retire, and maybe getting to die with dignity. He’d rejected love because it meant nothing to him – Steve had meant nothing to him – and within seconds of those words being spoken, Steve had taken off.

If someone had asked him if he ever expected to see or hear from Steven Grant Rogers ever again, he would have emphatically said no. Nevertheless, Bucky had seen him, and it stirred up all those pesky emotions he thought he’d buried long ago.

Though Steve should’ve stood out, he hadn’t; he’d always had an uncanny ability to camouflage himself when he wanted to, which meant he’d blended in seamlessly with the other black suits and ties, and managed to go unnoticed right up until the very end.

Their eyes had met through the sea of the griever’s tears and trembling handkerchiefs. A split-second glance was all it had taken for Bucky to understand why Steve had made an appearance. Somehow, he knew the man they’d put to rest, but unlike Bucky, he’d actually been there to pay his respects.

He’d blinked and Steve had disappeared right back into the crowd. It had only been a moment, yet somehow, even after so many years, Bucky had felt it all the way down into his marrow, and he hated both himself and Steve for it.

All Bucky had to do was push back his chair and undo his pants. The man – whose name Bucky didn’t remember or even attempt to recall – immediately went to his knees, pulled his boxers down past his erection, and deep throated him in one go. The eyes that looked up at him were brown, but Bucky pictured them blue, and imagined the locks clenched in his fist were golden blond instead of black.

This was not the mouth he wanted to fuck, but it would do, and as soon Bucky reached the brink, he pulled the man away harshly by his hair. Quick retrieval of a condom and lube from the desk drawer and then, they were both down on their knees. The erection the man sported suggested he appreciated the rough handling, and Bucky barely had to prep him before he all but begged for it.

“Give me your cock, JB,” he pleaded.

“Just shut the fuck up,” Bucky snarled as he pushed his way inside.

It was merciless and the noises the man made were pornographic. If he hadn’t been fisting his own dick and pushing his ass up higher in a silent plea for more, Bucky would have thought he was overselling his pleasure, but it seemed the more brutal Bucky was, the more he enjoyed it.

Eyes screwed up tight and breathing hard, he listened as, “JB! JB, oh, fuck, JB!” was called out again and again. It wasn’t the name he wanted to hear, who he was fucking most certainly wasn’t the man he wanted to make scream and come for him, but when needs must...

The orgasm had been phenomenal, but only because he’d thought of Steve.

Disgusted with himself, Bucky told him to get dressed, and get out. He’d just finished cleaning up when the man appeared again, and though he didn’t say a word, he pointedly placed his card on the desk, and promptly left. As soon as he heard the front door shut, Bucky picked it up; apparently, his name had been David, and he practiced criminal law.

“Go fuckin’ figure,” he muttered as he dropped it into the trash

Laptop reopened and attention refocused, he listened to the playback, and knew what he had to do. An encrypted communication with all evidence included was sent, and within five minutes, the Families responded with approval to move forward. After Bucky assured them all he would take care of the matter personally, he erased the messages, and hit the showers.

Even though he practically vibrated with the need to address the matter immediately, he didn’t. The Families had chosen him to be their leader and that meant occasionally allowing others to play in the sandbox. Bucky would need to extend a hand on this one and he already knew who his choice would be.

With a towel wrapped around his waist, Bucky stepped out of the bathroom and into the adjoining walk-in closet. The lights immediately illuminated the space and after he settled on the Armani, he dried off, and prepared to dress. He’d just selected a tie when his phone pinged, and when he glanced at the screen, he grinned.

“Speak of the devil,” he murmured as Natasha’s name popped up.

Her self-motivation was just one of the many reasons why Bucky invited her to bring her shovel and pail, and he didn’t have to wait long before she replied with a time, location, and a demand for sustenance afterward. Since it cost him nothing to cater to Natasha’s bloodlust and whims, he agreed.

With dinner plans now in play, he switched up the wardrobe. Bucky went with black-on-black Dolce and Gabbana; powerful, but understated, and the tie-tac was a small sapphire. Though he preferred to conduct such business at a distance, Natasha liked to get up close and personal, which meant he needed to bring his best cutlery. Unsure of whether or not he’d want to go on the prowl afterward, he pocketed a few condoms as well, because it was always better to be safe than sorry.

A little over an hour later, he rolled to a stop under the awning at the Four Seasons just in time for Natasha to step out onto the sidewalk. A valet opened the door for her and once she was settled, they were on their way.

“I saw him,” she confessed quietly. “And if I saw him, that means you saw him, too.”

Bucky sighed and signaled to change lanes, “I haven’t decided what to do about it yet.”  

“If you plan to resolve the problem, don’t do it yourself,” Natasha insisted. “Let me take care of it.”

It hadn’t been anything she hadn’t offered to do for him dozens of times before, yet, this time, her words made him swallow hard. The last time he’d ordered someone to be put down, he hadn’t felt a damn thing, but as Bucky merged off the highway, he couldn’t help but think it would be wrong for Natasha to be the one to do it. If that’s what it came down to, it would need to be him, because Steve wasn’t a man who could be caught unaware and wouldn’t let anyone else get close enough…

“So, the wife, too, huh?” Natasha muttered.

“You always said she was cagey,” Bucky remarked with a slight shrug.

“But we had plans for them. I didn’t want to be right.”

He pulled into the driveway, parked, and killed the engine. His car and their faces were familiar, which meant they didn’t have to be discreet in their arrival, just in the execution and exit. He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket, retrieved the knife, and placed it into Natasha’s waiting palm.

“Oh, you brought my favorite one? You really shouldn’t have.”

Bucky winked at her, “I know.”

Natasha hummed, slid the blade from the sheath, and opened the door, “Michael’s for dinner.”

“I’ll get us a table.”

The reservation had only taken a few minutes, and apparently, so had Natasha, because she returned almost as quickly as she’d left, but did not look at all satisfied.

“She’s in the wind,” she spat. “Closet empty, cash gone. She left in a hurry and made sure to leave her cell and everything else we could’ve used to track her behind.”

Bucky slammed his fist on the steering wheel, “Fuck!”

“It gets worse.”

“How?” he snarled. “How could it possibly get worse?”  

Natasha handed him the wife’s cell, which had been left unlocked, with a video ready to be played. The first couple of seconds were silent, and then, Steve’s face came into view.

“Tomorrow. Prospect Park. Three PM. Come alone.”

The or else was implied. Chapter 2: Nothing Personal

Everything: @jennmurawski13 @nerdy-bookworm-1998

Steve Rogers: @patzammit @hearttoearth The Boss of Brooklyn: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @captain-rogers-beard

[boy2reality]

The Pocket Dimension Experience, part 3. [Warning for: violence, stalking.]

Near the end of my last log, I talked about how I knew that I needed to stop living entirely off fear. It seemed that the energy people gave off when they died made me feel extremely sick. I really don’t think it was a ‘morality’ thing. I think it was something to do with... Whatever had taken over my stomach. 

Thing is, I was kind of addicted to causing people to fear me at this point. This awakening has been really difficult, and I’m still trying to pick apart all of the feelings that I got bashed upside the head with. ‘Ryan’ was so meek and quiet all the time... I think once all of the testing and experiments began, people threw out my identity as him... So I think I threw it away, too. I hated how weak Ryan was. The new me was so much more powerful. 

I was the talk of the town. I remember hearing a news report over the radio in the regular world as I was scoping someone out. Apparently there had been footage being captured by security cameras in the area of people disappearing. Huh. Wonder what that’s all about. :)

Since I’d been getting plenty of experience with creating objects, and it was becoming easy, I decided to widen my horizons a bit by creating scenery. I remember one of the first things I did was rummage around in some poor dude’s garage, grabbed a shovel, and dug up a small section of the guy’s front lawn in the middle of the night. Fuckin... Stole the grass and dirt, just so I could replicate it perfectly. 

Replicating scenery came really easily to me? It might have come from the experience I had creating objects in general. Forgive me if this doesn’t make much sense, but creating fields of grass and tiled floors was like... Taking the clone tool in Photoshop and copying a selection everywhere. Nobody notices things being exactly the same when the objects in question are as mundane as grass and tile, that look the same at a glance. 

After I’d gotten used to making basic scenes, I began doing more elaborate things. I stole a couple of National Geographic magazines and did my best to replicate the photographs. Savannahs, deserts, jungles, tundra, you name it, I was trying to make it. Things definitely seemed ‘off’ at first, my brain had a tendency of repeating sections of areas. Like, for example, you’d look one way and see a curve in the treeline, and you’d look another way and the treeline would curve in the exact same way. 

I also figured out how to ‘sandbox’ areas of the pocket dimension, to keep people from wandering too far away from where I wanted them to be. Think of it like, invisible barriers in a video game that keep the player from going out of bounds. I was pretty good at constructing a path for people to go towards what I wanted them to go towards. Other times I would create massive areas and just let people wander. 

I’ve been rambling about the pocket dimension a whole lot. Now that I’ve explained the ‘physics’ of it, I’d like to touch on something else; Compositions, and how they factored in to how I’d fuck with people. Often times, I would straight up stalk people at night, looking for ‘easy prey’ to feed off of. People who were drunk or otherwise intoxicated, people who I felt I could take on if a physical altercation happened. I would listen to their Compositions to get a grasp on who they were as a person. Normally I would go after people who’s Compositions were slower and more ‘light’. 

I could determine how people were reacting to situations through their Composition. It’s extremely hard for me to describe, so I’m just going to create an example here. This person and situation is entirely made up as an example to help me explain. 

So, meet Jenny. She’s a young lady who’s currently wearing a hoodie with a sorority logo on it. While I was following her, I heard her Composition; a light, airy violin tune with some accompanying percussion. I do something to knock her unconscious. Her Composition slows waaaay down in tempo. The violins are playing long, long notes, indicating that she is still alive. 

I warp her into the pocket dimension while she’s unconscious. Let’s bring back our old friend the Spider Pit for this example. I’ve put her in a room with the spider pit in it, and she’s still unconscious. When she wakes up, her Composition picks up to normal tempo, and when she sees the pit of spiders in front of her, the tempo once again speeds up. Jenny is terrified of spiders. As she sits there terrified, the music gets more dramatic, the violins being played more frantically, the percussion getting louder. 

Then, she feels hands on her back. Someone pushes her into the giant black hole of spiders, and the sound of her screams is mixed with the wailing of the violins, the pounding of the drums. Most of the time, I’d tune out at this point, as the screeching most people’s Compositions became at that point was hard on the ears, and instead I’d focus on collecting energy. 

After I’d decided enough was enough, I remove the spiders, and send Jenny on her way. I didn’t take much consideration as to where I dumped people off at, but it was typically within a few miles of where I’d grabbed them in the first place. 

So, yeah, that was an example. Next log will be memories of things I did to people, and it’s a grab bag... 

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role Highlights C2E36 (October 2, 2018)

Tonight’s guests are Travis Willingham and Matt Mercer!

Announcements:

The NYC show on Thursday still has tickets! 

The latest episode of Between the Sheets, featuring Laura Bailey, is now available on the Critical Role Twitch channel for subscribers! The VOD will be released on YouTube tomorrow.

The second episode of All Work No Play will air on the Twitch channel on Friday at 7 PM! There will be tapdancing involved.

@critrolestats​ for this week’s episode:

With four games in, the Dallas Cowboys are at a 50%-- wait, wrong stat.

The M9 got their 140th kill in this episode: Nott against the fourth harpy.

This is the third time Fjord has used the dodecahedron, and the second time he’s put a fragment of possibility to use.

DMing when PCs are on the ocean involves trying to figure out what interesting things can be found along the journey. Matt made a small chart to roll on to see what might possibly happen. "It’s a lot of not forcing events, necessarily, every single day, because otherwise nobody would ever fucking be on a boat in a fantasy world.” He wants it to be an adventurous, freeing sensation, and he wants it to be a bit of a sandbox for the players. (The map finally arrived!) “It’s allowing enough intrigue and possibility out there where the players can utilize the ship at their disposal, and coming up with interesting encounters that capitalize on the region and capitalize on the limitations of the ship as well.”

Travis has been on (non-sailing) boats most of his life, so he knows the terminology. “But when it comes to fuckin’ pirate ships...” He wrote Fjord’s backstory with “sailor” in it, but didn’t get a chance to research it at all. Matt was so intimidated by the (three) sailing terms Fjord included in his backstory that he’s been intently studying up on nautical stuff ever since. There are graphs behind his DM screen. Matt: “I was just trying to keep up with him!” 

But Travis has been doing research since then. He’d just never thought about the fact that he might be the only one who knew how to sail a ship. Matt: “It might not have been a major issue if you guys had booked passage...” Travis: “I should have done a moderate level of research just to be more familiar with it, so it’s causing me now to catch up to the homework that you did. We’ll see how this week goes, being that it’s in front of a live crowd...” 

Brian: “This is such a weird metaphor for you guys’ friendship.”

Matt expected Orly was going to be an information source while the group was in Nicodranas. After the M9 stole the ship so unexpectedly, it turned out Orly was the only other person they knew who had the skills they needed. Brian knows it’s a big ask, but he’d love to see amazing cosplay of Orly.

Fjord is definitely wondering whether the sword will react in some way with the water---just touching it in didn’t make a difference, but he’s wondering whether practicing his sword exercises on the ship might’ve had an effect. Travis: “Until now, it’s been a pretty one-sided avenue of communication. I don’t know if there’s any way to *69 that motherfucker.”

Gif of the Week: Caduceus’ “Hello darkness my old friend” moment.

The jellyfish bloom was a random encounter Matt rolled on his table: he has assorted natural sights on the list to add atmosphere. “It was an improvised part of the narrative based on a few rolls.” Brian wants to insure Matt’s brain.

For the map that came out last session, Travis got a quick sneak peek at it. “I love reefs, just from scuba diving, so I memorized those. Most of the trade routes didn’t go over reefs, so if we hit one of those, it would be immediately dangerous.” If people’s backgrounds tie into certain areas, Matt e-mails them summaries as needed so that the players can deliver the information and it’s not just a DM info dump.

Caduceus’ super high perception is opening up a lot of interesting stuff for the party; there were a lot of situations that flew under the radar before, and Matt’s looking forward to finding more moments like that. “You want to reward a player for their strengths.”

Matt mentions that, in all the games he’s played with Taliesin, he’s always played very high-intelligence characters. He’s fascinated to see him play a low-INT high-WIS character with Caduceus.

Travis: “I don’t typically like to give people orders? Fjord was a first mate on the ship, that’s as high as he rose. In my mind, those were people that he had worked with for years. He was receiving orders and then dispersing them, not coming up with the ideas himself. For me, as a player, I enjoyed the luxury of an idiot for the first campaign, because I got to be reactionary. It is an entirely, entirely different thing, and it’s been kind of weird, being responsible for everybody, having to make quick decisions when no one else has any input.” He found himself looking for the bench in the last couple episodes. 

On the clusterfuck at the docks, Travis: “I had gone far below zero hit points in player.” He was so off-balance and nothing seemed to be working. “You can’t always bench yourself. You gotta keep fuckin’ playing.” Matt points out that it’s common to have an off session: “The fact that you’ve finally had a couple is reassuring to the rest of us mortals in your presence.” It’s tough to be the character who has such a major impact on the course of events, and Travis has been learning how to deal with that pressure (after being able to just shrug it off as Grog) and make sure it doesn’t happen again. Travis: “I had a totally different idea of what my participation in the group would be.” He wasn’t expecting to be the face of the group.

Matt mentions that there are sessions where the group has had fun but he goes home “feeling like shit” over some series of mistakes (which often gets reinforced online), but he emphasizes that it’s totally okay to have off nights, and that it’s important to talk it out with players or other DM friends if you’re still feeling upset about it.

Fanart of the Week: Nott and Caduceus having their bonding moment at sea.

Matt: “There was a whole bunch of shit in Nicodranas you could have explored.” Travis: “I love how he gave us a fuckin’ wizard tower.” Matt pointed out that Algar had an employee who ran off during their first attack. “There’s a lot of adventure in Nicodranas still when you return.” Matt points out that sometimes the story you have prepared isn’t as exciting as what the players stumble into on their own. The ramifications when they come back could be a lot of fun, as well. 

Travis on the pressure he’s under for this arc: “The rest of the group is fuckin’ loving it, like a bunch of assholes. They are eating up my panic with spoons and forks.” Matt points out that the tables have turned after the first campaign.

Fjord’s whole backstory was based on trying to disappear; he was just glad to have a role that didn’t require a spotlight. “He just wanted to live a life and have a role and have an existence.” He feels like his unique looks and abilities fit in with the M9, but being put in charge of that, especially in the wake of the massive confidence shake that came with the Lorenzo kidnapping and Molly’s death, he’s still reeling. It’s only been a few weeks since Lorenzo. 

It’s been especially terrifying to realize this Fjord-centric arc is going to be such a big part of the New York live show. Travis: “I was so crestfallen. That was the moment I was like, ‘Fuck.’” Matt, happily: “It’s going to be fun.” Travis, strained and yelling: “IT’S GOING TO BE GREAT.”

Jester’s mom hadn’t heard the rumors of a blue tiefling dying at the docks, so fortunately that information hadn’t gotten to her before Jester sent her message. Matt breaks down the bizarre mystery the guards are dealing with right now: it could have had much, much more serious consequences. “They’re not completely fucked. There’s just some threads of fuckery out there.” Avoiding the patrol ships and being able to disguise themselves has been key. Matt points out that a lot of the Nein have had really skittish, mistrustful backgrounds; over time, they might be more likely to try to interface with the guards in a scenario like that, but they’re not there yet.

Travis on the jellyfish conversation: “I was kind of in awe of my wife at that moment. Her emotional availability is second to none. And then to take that beautiful moment and be so introspective about that character. I was trying to ask her questions, and then she pointed it dead on at me. I was like, oh god, I don’t know. I was trying to be sensitive and do something that would make her feel better, but man, it left both of us---Fjord and me---shook. I interpreted it one way. There had been gentle teasings. But man, when the emotions are real...” 

Matt’s been finding it interesting that Fjord and Caleb have been taking on leadership roles in a non-competitive, please-take-this way, and he’s excited to see how the roles are distributed moving forward. “I fuckin’ love D&D. Oh my god.”

Matt points out that the M9 is a different kind of found family than VM. “All of Vox Machina seemed pretty confident of who they were and what they wanted to be in the world. This group is very different; they’re these lost souls who, through their connections to each other, are trying to find a purpose and keep each other safe.” He likes the natural pace of that development and is happy that themes of change and redemption are so prominent in their character arcs. “As the kids on the internet say, ‘I’m here for it.’”

Travis: “I had to ask Liam this week what ‘stan’ meant. I thought they left the ‘d’ off it.”

Hats appear.

Talks Machina: Is It the Same Channel?

Brian, on the perfect burrito: “Skittles. Starburst bites. Jujubes. Wrapped in a fruit roll-up.” That is a little too close to my actual dinner tonight and I may have to reevaluate some of my life choices.

Their favorite thing about the live show is the energy. Matt: “It’s one thing to be playing together as friends, but once every now and then, being able to share it live there with so many people who are as excited as we are to be there. Of all the years I’ve done theatre and that high I’ve had on stage, this is even better for me.” Much as the heart of the show is its intimate nature, they love having the live show as a change of pace a couple of times a year. Matt points out that the weirdness of live D&D is that the audience there is as knowledgeable and invested. “It’s not like there’s a barrier and you’re here to entertain, you’re all just here in this moment.”

Travis mentions that alignment’s been more important at the start of the game when they’ve been trying to establish their character, just to keep from veering off into random stabs at action. Matt: “I think alignment’s a great guide if you’re unfamiliar with the process of realizing a personality that’s different from yours and stepping into their shoes. I prefer to think that characters’ actions drive alignment, rather than alignment driving characters’ actions. I don’t feel like you should use alignment as a way of excluding yourselves from making those choices that otherwise a character would never make.”

Matt: “Don’t google ‘burrito train’.”

It takes like ten minutes to Brian’s nipple rings.

Dani, being shipped to New York.

[jaunes-hoodie]

Everything We Learned In RWBY Volume 6 Episode 3 (Spoilers (Duh)) *Long Post Warning!*

We learn that Salem and Oz come from a time when everyday folk could use magic (Themselves included) This also explains why Salem and Oz are the only ones who can use magic

We FINALLY learn Oz’s original name: Ozma (Before he was Oscar, Ospin, and whatever other names that start with Oz/Os.)

Oz didn’t save Salem to win her heart or for glory, but because it was the right thing to do. Nice moment to develop Oz’s character of being a genuinely nice guy.

Oz and Salem were in love. But, c’mon, those two are like the most attractive people in the show, it was inevitable for them to hook up

Ozma dies from a simple illness. Really ironic, and I’m pretty sure that was the intention.

Looking back on the episode, the line “It was here where mankind would fall to ruin” over the shot of the God of Light’s pool has a neat double meaning. It’s where the God of Dark would kill all the humans, but also where Salem would gain immortality, leading her to the events that kill humanity in the first place. 

Also, apparently anyone can just come into the god’s domains? Seems a little dangerous should some poor idiot happen to piss them off, but go off, I guess.

We get to see what the brother gods really look like, and in far greater detail than in Qrow’s story back in Volume 4. 

I just want to take this moment to appreciate the design of the brothers too? Like, the elder having elegant stag antlers, being more muscular and stands up straighter is a nice contrast to the younger brother being hunched over, scrawny and with twisted goat horns.

Also also, the entrance of the god of darkness? Super creepy. I love it. Reminded me of the illusion of Salem in the Volume 5 finale.

Thought for sure the God of Dark would say something like “I’ll bring Ozma back if you devote yourself to me.” And then he turns her into a grimm-human hybrid. Glad I was wrong, since the actual story places the blame on Salem. Which is good, since she’s, ya know, the bad guy?

We get to see a taste of the brother’s powers

The gods can apparently bring the dead to life and return them just as easily

Love the designs of both their dragon forms Especially how the elder is an eastern dragon and the younger is a western dragon It shows how they’re both similar, but still very different.

I also like how they squabble like actual brothers. As well as how they have their own egos and laws they abide by. Like, the minute the younger brother realizes that Salem already asked the older brother to bring Oz back, he immediately turns her away and even helps punish her. Reminds me a lot of other pantheons from mythology. The gods aren’t perfect. They make mistakes, but ultimately, the choice is out of mortal hands.

The brothers gave Salem immortality so that she could learn the value of life and death. (Did anyone else feel bad for Salem when she tried to kill herself? I like how they’re trying to make her a sympathetic villain).

This ultimately backfires, as Salem uses her immortality to rally the humans against them.

Really like how they portray Salem as a cunning strategist, even back then. It shows us that she knows how to turn people against one another. And since that is her long-term strategy, I guess that’s a good trait for her to have.

But even this backfire backfires, as the gods easily kill off all humanity, except for Salem. Seriously though, who in that battle party thought that bringing some arrows and fireballs to kill Gods was a good idea? Probably Steve. Steve is a fuckin idiot

We also learn why it’s called “Remnant”. A cool detail I didn’t know I wanted

Also, I get why some people are mad that the gods called Remnant an “experiment”, but it makes sense. They’re immortal, omnipotent beings. They can do whatever they please, and sometimes that involves making a world and killing everything on it. Haven’t you ever played a sandbox game like The Sims?

At long last, we see exactly what caused the moon to shatter. Something that people have been speculating about for literal YEARS

Honestly though, I did not expect it to come from the God of Darkness being a dramatic lil bitch. That, or he’s in desperate need of glasses. Or an ice pack. Like, damn dude, are you okay?

Salem jumps into the pool of Darkness and that’s what makes her look all “Grimm-y” Like, I get what your thought process was lady, but you seriously did not think that through that at all.

We get to see what the other three relics look like, and that one theory about how the symbol of the four kingdoms reflect the relic that lies there is confirmed. (Link here) 

Looks like the Relic of Creation is a spear (Or torch, maybe?) the Relic of Destruction is a sword, and the Relic of Choice is a crown.

The god of light tells Ozma that if all the relics are brought together, the gods would return and judge humanity. This is probably why Salem wants the relics: To get a rematch with the gods who gave her the cold shoulder Which is good, because before this, all we knew about Salem’s motivation and why she wanted the relics was to, assumedly, take over the world.

So, the Gods didn’t really “Curse Ozpin for failing to stop Salem in the past” so much as they “Gave Ozpin the choice to reincarnate and make sure humanity was ready for the God’s return”

Although this makes sense, given that if Oz had told the truth to them, he would also have to come clean about the relics and the gods coming back, which would probably only add to the stress the team was already facing.

Ozma’s first reincarnation was a ranch hand, like Oscar

(I’m only assuming this because he fought off a Beowulf with a pitchfork instead of a sword at first.)

Now we see why only Oz and Salem can use magic. They existed when humanity could still use magic. With this new race of humanity, “magic” can only really be used with dust, and even then, it’s not nearly as strong as before.

Salem is a witch confirmed (But c’mon, that was pretty clear from the name.)

Salem and Oz definitely fucked after rebuilding that house. Probably even before.

Oz: “What do we do now?” 

Salem: “Each other”

Also, that house that Salem and Oz fucked lived in is probably the same one as where old wizard Oz would give the maidens their powers.

I like how a piano version of “Divide” plays in the background of Oz and Salem’s convo about becoming gods themselves.

“Salem uses the power of boners to get Oz to become a false god.” *Ding*

And if you still doubt that Oz and Salem fucked, they have four kids to prove that they fucked at least four times.

So their kids can preform magic, and I originally thought that they were the OG maidens. But, a friend of mine (@clover11-10 follow her, she’s the coolest) pointed out that they most likely died in the fight with Salem, and Oz probably gave the maidens magic because they reminded him so much of his kids

The old man that appeared in that scene of him passing through different lives was probably the Wizard who gave the maidens their powers.

OZDAD CONFIRMED TO BE A REAL DAD. RED ALERT RED ALERT.

The biggest takeaway is we get the main motivations and backstories for both Salem and Ozma/pin/car

So little mini-theory here: When Oz asked Jinn how he could defeat Salem, she simply said “You can’t”. But I like to think that this was only because of the way he worded the question. He asked, “How can I defeat Salem?” Not “How would one go about defeating Salem?” Jinn most likely knew that Oz wouldn’t have the guts to kill his beloved. That’s why he needs someone else to do it. Someone who wants to help people just because it’s the right thing to do. Someone who can kill Grimm with a single look. Someone with a smaller, more honest soul.

This was a part-review, part-shitpost, part-analysis of the newest episode. There was a lot to unpack and I really enjoyed this episode overall if you couldn’t tell.

[goldenscript]

forever in a night (m)

pairing: kim mingyu | reader genre: best friends to lovers au / fluff, smut warnings: alcohol mention (& some under-age drinking), drunk-ish sex (?) word count: 15,643 description: There’s a long stretch of history between you and your best friend, Kim Mingyu. From your first and last time as lovers to the friendship that has remained intact all throughout, but etched within the seams is the very thread that has always kept you two bonded—it’s nothing short of two hearts that beat as one with an unspoken love.

The first night is a complete accident. It’s a stupid, stupid emotionally compromised mistake that shouldn’t have happened (with your best friend no less)! Did you already mention how stupid it is?

When you’re heartbroken, you eat chocolate and ice cream and any of all the fatty, sugar-coated carbohydrates you can contain. You watch movies about heartbreak and ridicule them with tear-stained eyes and vehement finger-pointing because for fuck’s sake, they aren’t listening to you from behind the thin glass and it’s taking everything in your willpower not to chuck your remote and the popcorn from your bowl, maybe even the bowl itself too, at the screen because as angry as you are, you’re most certainly not in the mood to get up and fix the mess you’d hypothetically make.

You call up your best friend, crossing your fingers that he isn’t busy with homework or a successful love life, though the latter is actually laughable because Mingyu is even worse off than you are but you need something to get your mind off your own stupidity. That’s why you have him. He’s your go-to. Your rock. Everything you need in a man, really, but even more than that because he’s the one you need that’ll help keep your mental sanity stable enough when shit like some guy—Jung Jaehyun, to be very exact—drops you for some other better-looking chick with probably an even better personality at that. It’s not to say you’re a shitty person, but from the way he talked about her, she seemed awfully great so that’s why you do feel a little stupid for hanging around and thinking that the feelings he was kind of sure were there for you would swept away when certainty and something better rolls in. So sure, you’ve been down over meaningful shit before but this isn’t forgetting Mingyu’s birthday (one time, mind you), this actually has you down in the dumps even farther down than those bottomless trenches from the Finding Nemo movie.

Now normally, his arrival is filled with hugs and warmth, maybe even a few good (though you’d never say that), cheesy jokes about kicking Jaehyun’s ass for you but it elicits half-smiles and half-hearted hugs because you’re just not feeling much right now. It’s literally everything you need and more, but in a way, this is different because you weren’t really sure or unsure about the outcome with the bleached blond but you wanted it to work. You hoped for it. And it’s that kind of disappointment and hurt that doesn’t just melt away with an empty threat or embrace. It’s not like the time with your first boyfriend at twelve with a boy by the name of Jungkook, who was as sweet and soft as cotton candy, who like the delicious treat disappeared right as soon as you two shared a kiss. He moved away to a different city, and when Mingyu comforted you in this same method, you actually cracked a smile and took him up on his offering for 7-Eleven slurpees and other terribly delicious junk food.

You do wish it was that simple to just forget like the good, old days, but times are different now—you’re older and a little more mature than those gloriously simple sandbox days, with desires and hormones that do more of your actual thinking than your brain, who knows damn well how bad the idea is that’s floating inside your head. It’s pushing its way to the forefronts of your mind, and all you can really see is his handsome visage, because somehow Mother Nature decided your best friend’s puberty should turn him into a borderline six-foot tall baseball jock with a face that is almost too, inhumanely handsome to actually be the kid you’ve known since the first grade. It was practically yesterday when he was tugging on your hair and leading you over to the baseball field because there was no one else he wanted to watch him play but you, not even Yoohyeon (and she was best-looking girl in school!). Though as rough and annoying as he was (okay, is), he has his kind, gentle moments, like smuggling the good balls out of the closet after some snot-nosed jerk stole the one you brought for you and him or taking you by the hand to appease your fear of crowds and making sure you stayed right by his side or laying beside you during that terrible weekend-long blackout when you were home alone and your parents were out (he had his first middle school game that following day but he came running just to make sure you were okay), all because out of everyone he’s known, he’s always had a soft spot for you and childhood to even now only proves that deeper and deeper, it seems.

There’s just this moment when he cups your cheek and looks you in the eye to ask, “Are you okay?” There’s a gentleness that sets ease in your heart, and it’s the first moment since exactly eight hours ago that your mind actually shuts up for once. You don’t know what you’re doing but the longer you stare at him, falling deeper into the soft, hickory hues, your eyes flicker down to his lips and watch as they move for a split second before your looking at him again; then, you just go for a kiss.

He doesn’t fight you, surprisingly, and it’s not quite like the ones you two have shared during Spin the Bottle and the truth-or-dare circles at parties for the past few years either. But you like it. You like that your mind goes blank without the sirens or racing thoughts, without the what-if’s and what-could’ve-been’s. You like that it’s with him because he’s always been your person—that sort of comfort that is rare to come across in just anyone. And the thing is he just goes with it, his eyes shut within a moment, soon yours follows, and his fingertips take a firmer grasp on your cheek while the other rests at your hip. Before you know it, you’re both laid across your bed with no clothes, the tear of a wrapper breaking into your mutually breathy moans and the touch of his fingertips igniting burns in their wake that remain seared forever in your brain.

In the early morning when the weight of your actions dawns on you, it’s to your very surprise that he’s awake and cleaning up the forgotten popcorn bowl. His lanky limbs tidying your living room as you look on from the doorway. Your parents forgot to come home, but from the looks of the purple splotches on your collar bones and your hips, you’re more than okay with not dealing with them right now.

The only thing that crosses your mind and parts your lips is one simple question: “Can we go back from this?”

“Do you want to?” Mingyu asks with a simple tilt of his head. He doesn’t look affected in the slightest, though truthfully you find yourself pretty indifferent about the entire thing. Even though you were completely screwed over Jaehyun, you find yourself at peace, like a singular weight has just dropped from your shoulders and you can breathe just a little bit better. “Look, whatever happened last night—we’re going to be okay. This doesn’t have to change anything, y’know, you needed someone and I’m always going to be here for you.”

“And you’re okay with just screwing and pretending nothing happened?” your brows screw together, hands wringing the edges of his T-shirt.

“Believe me, I can’t pretend but I mean this really doesn’t change anything, Y/N. I’m your best friend, you’re my best friend. We fucked, so what?”

You laugh, shaking your head at his logic. “You’re way too casual about this.”

He shrugs, striding over to you in about three steps. His hands find your shoulders. “Is that so bad? You’re the overthinker. Let me be the underthinker. ‘Kay?”

Dropping your hands from his T-shirt, you give his cheek a poke. You never would’ve conceived that doing that with your best friend would be so casual, because everyone grows up with the idea that their best friend is that person reserved from those things, that they’re the ones that will pick up the pieces from a safe distance. But in a way, Mingyu has always been a different person for you. Yes, he’s your best friend, but he’s the kind that you can tell anything and everything no matter, and for the two of you to cross a boundary like that together should be weird, should be restricted from then on because what kind of best friends casually fuck like nothing?

Instead, you just go with your gut and give a nod. Because this was just a one and done right? (No honey, no it was not.)

“‘Kay~”

The second time is completely voluntary. An executive decision that you initiate (yet again) because what the hell are you supposed to do when your friends actually banked on the success of your relationship with Park Jimin? Not only was he older but he was also a college student with all access to free booze, but he was undeniably attractive like a devil disguised as a rosy-cheeked cherub. Smooth-talking and a tease. These are things you were well-equipped to handle with having Kim Mingyu, a sudden girl-magnet that senior year (it’s still beyond you considering it’s barely even October), but on the orange-haired boy, it was everything that kept you on your toes and wanting more.

That’s the thing about boys like Jimin—they want to have fun. They like to play around. Correction: they fuckin’ adore it. Of course, he’s sweet and attentive beneath all the selfishness and self-assured confidence, but his capacity for relationships longer than three months were a bigger stretch than your eight-dollar leggings from Amazon. It’s a miracle the two of you even made it into that extra two, but it was a good five-month run.

You just wanted to believe that you could change a guy like him, maybe work around the player nature. You also hoped that something about you made him keep coming back. Maybe it could’ve. Your guts had no doubts that his resolve softened with you. But as spirals come, they go. He just happened to go on his birthday, leaving behind only a simple text that he couldn’t show up to the dinner you planned or even continue what you were doing together, because punctuated at the end of it all was the very audacity of him to conclude that you and Mingyu were something more than you were letting on and his own petty nature kept him from bringing it up because it showed he cared way too much for some high schooler like you.

Knowing that makes you mad. Downright furious, actually.

For him to accuse you and your best friend of being more than just best friends. The very gall makes you convinced that Jimin’s using it as an excuse to cut ties with you, and maybe you’re being petty by calling Mingyu to that one corner boba shop in the city but you can’t control yourself. There's this selfish part of you that just wants to hurt Jimin in that way. Even if he didn't know you invited your best friend to come meet you (at the least, he probably has the thought nagging at him in the back of his mind), it's a nice feeling to know somewhere in the bubble of feelings you’re shrouded in.

The pettiness doesn't outweigh your hurt, however.

The very truth is you liked Jimin a whole fucking lot. Not just a lot. A whole fucking lot, okay. You and him spent five months together. Five, long and wonderful months together just to be whittled into this measly broken half over your best friend, Kim fucking Mingyu. That's what gets you. Of what sort of action did you display that would indicate infidelity? Was "we fucked once last year" written all over your forehead? Or did you let it slip during one of your drunken escapades? Was that it? What the goddamn hell was it? Because, despite that one night—a stupid one at that—nothing has ever changed between the two of you. In fact, it might've brought you two to a closer level of understanding because nowadays you kind of just knew what was up with him, whether he was feeling some kind of way for a girl or something, but it never triggered hidden feelings for him or any of that cliché shit. He’s your best friend. That's it.

You’re hurting. From the moment Jimin left you with those glaring text messages to the moment when Mingyu sits in front of you with furrowed brows and ��What happened?” falls past his lips. Of course, you can't hide it from him. Of fucking course, you let it all loose within two breaths. And he looks absolutely pissed at the fact that this is how Jimin decided to end things. Not even face-to-face, but through texts that felt more passive aggressive and heavier to look at the more you stare at your phone screen.

Your thoughts are flying in all kinds of directions, as if it weren't enough that today would've been yours and Jimin's fifth monthiversary. You two didn't really care for that kind of crap, but it was more like an obligatory celebration to mock with some food and maybe a movie. Sometimes even a screw or two. But it felt like it could've been something. Maybe nothing like getting married after all the school’s done or anything, but it could've been like those old loves you think back on from time to time or some cheesy shit like that.

You don't know where you're going on this train, but you feel Mingyu move next to you in the booth and the warmth of his body radiating on you is enough to shut up all the detours. Like those dings on a train that get muted in the background with a pair of good ass headphones, but instead this happens as soon as as you look over at him with a half-hearted smile. Until it only dawns on you that the only way he could've beat the half-hour travel time to downtown was because of that date he should be on.

Fuck.

"You must've been busy with Nayeon huh?" you sigh, only briefly recalling how psyched he was to finally go out with her. It makes you feel even worse now. "I shouldn't have pulled you out like this."

He glowers at you, bumping your shoulder. "Don't say that. Of course, I'd come find you."

Of course you have to say it. You wouldn’t be a very good friend if you didn’t ask. "But Nayeon?"

"She's not my best friend, Y/N. You are. If she really likes me that much then she'd see me for another date," he states simply. But when you look at him inquisitively, he can hardly meet your eyes. "There are other girls anyway, y'know. I'm sure I'll meet an understanding one."

"Like anyone believes we're just friends," you scoff, patting his leg. He doesn't mind as it remains there either. But for some reason, you kind of wonder why you’re letting it rest there now. You’re usually the withdrawn type when you’re hurt. "I bet she was worried we were more than friends too."

"Well..." he scratches the back of his head. "That's true, but still—!"

"Still what? Gyu, I—I," you sigh. "I don't even know anymore.”

You don’t even know why you’re saying what’s suddenly occurred to you, but you suppose it’s because the admission of truth is often easier said when emotionally compromised. There have been plenty of times when you admitted to things while you weren’t in the right state of mind, and it seems this occasion is no exception.

Even as the words fall, you don’t even bother looking very embarrassed about it.

“Sometimes I'd rather just say ‘fuck it’ and just be with you instead of anyone else."

He laughs, ruffling the top of your head. "We could make one of those pacts to be together if we wind up single in our thirties or whatever. Like that one Friends episode! I don't mind."

"Oh shut up," you don't even stop yourself from smiling. The memory of that Friends marathon you two did well into the previous summer comes up—all the mutual complaints, the in-depth discussions, and even the expected clean-up’s after you two attacked the screen with an arsenal of popped kernels—even over the particular hilarity of that damn episode. "Let me be sad, dummy."

He leans in close, lips a damn hairsbreadth away, it actually has your breath caught in your throat. Your only worry is it wasn't that obvious. "Never, you can't be sad in my presence,” his voice is playfully indignant, but the latter half of his words leave an uncomfortable swipe of heat across your body. “I want to make you feel better, Y/N."

"That holds a lot more sexual weight than an innocent one, y'know," you note aloud, regretting it instantly. The corners of his lips curl upwards, with a flash of his pearly whites gleaming beneath in the fluorescent overhead lighting. It makes your heart flip flop all over, and you hate that this isn't the first time it's done that either. "Oh shut up."

"I didn't say anything," he says, shrugging. "But if you're really up for that, then I don't mind either."

You pull back from drinking the delicious sweetness of your earl grey milk tea, almost blanching because you don't think you've ever felt both so horrified and so intrigued, because an actual part of you wouldn't even mind screwing him right now. The part of you that feels hurt and emotionally compromised actually welcomes the thought of his hands at your hips and the jutting of them against yours. Even the thought of squelching sounds that sounded all too good to be true made you so undoubtedly tempted to just agree, but you hold back specifically for that moment.

"What?"

He watches you, deadpanning, "You heard me."

"That's a hefty offer, Mingyu. I don't think I can take you fucking around right now," you sharply point out, knowing that you are the one bullshitting. And of course, it isn't like you don't want to screw your best friend. You like that he was your first. You also like that it's him, out of anybody in the whole goddamn world, because you know for a fact he isn't taking advantage of you. But you also know damn well that you would be very much taking advantage of him (again).

It’s like, for whatever reason, the universe likes to send him your way whenever you're emotionally compromised. She probably enjoys the tease of putting you two together, only to leave the two of you two to deal with your actions in later relationships. It's silly how simple things would be just to be with him. He knows you, you know him. But at the same time, knowing that he's the kid you've basically entrusted all your secrets with could easily slip from your fingertips like Jimin makes you anxious. He isn’t like Jimin in the biggest way where you haven’t prepared yourself to lose him on the off chance he lost feelings, because that’s what you did with the older man. Unlike him, Mingyu holds more sentimental weight that forgoes a few months and actually melts into years of deeply-rooted connection and attachment that could so easily go to shit if either of you fucked up a relationship.

So, then fucking isn’t so bad then?

You suppose if you weren't getting together with Mingyu officially, then just screwing him and shooing away all those (highly possible) repressed feelings is a much safer bet.

Of course, you still feel obligated to ask him, "Can we go back from that? Doing it again, I mean."

He shrugs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders that has your mind even blanker than before. At least it's shutting up any more of your anxieties. "It didn't change much before, right?"

"True." You look over at him, washing over his features in a quick sweep as if it made much of a difference in your decision-making (it didn’t). He's gotten even more handsome, you notice, and not quite in the "holy fuck, my best friend is hot" kind of way though that has happened once, but more in a "you're a really good fucking person and that's really attractive" way. "Why did you do it last time?"

"'Dunno, I guess because you seemed like you needed someone." He gulps, Adam's apple bobbing as his own nerves go down. "And, well, to be frank, you're pretty hot."

You let out a laugh, smacking his chest with your free arm. "Shut up, you punk. Lying to your best friend is a terrible sin, y'know."

"Oh?" He raises a brow at you, cheeks becoming prominent from his ever-growing smile. "Well, why don't you show me a thing or two about absolving that?"

Your nose wrinkles, one of your fingers now placed atop his lips. "We are not doing any of the kinky, roleplaying shit, Gyu."

He asks, giving way for more internal cursing, "So, that's a yes?"

Even though you know shouldn't do this, you find it very hard to actually care at this point. You did call him over there. And, you do need someone to keep your mind off the impending heartbreak. Okay, and you do think he’s pretty fucking hot too.

Giving a nod, you warn him, "My mom's home though."

"S'okay, my parents aren't home. They took a trip down to the beach for their anniversary." He gives your shoulder a squeeze before looking at you with a flash of seriousness in his eyes. "Are you sure about this?"

That is definitely a chance to get out of this mess. Maybe leave this moment without the reality that you really screwed your best friend the same night you were supposed to probably bang your now ex-boyfriend, and it's one of those moments where if you were looking at this situation from afar you'd probably say no and walk away. Maybe take a breather for a day or two before doing some other reckless thing. However, this isn't one of those moments.

There is no narrator, talking about the complications of your life and your skewed decisions. This is on real time with a reality that whatever you do will bite you in the ass later, and it's that sort of thought that only briefly passes through your mind before things go silent. His visage is still very close to yours, and the idea of comfort and utter tranquility begins to spill back in.

The repercussions of fucking him might come back later, but you don't find many problems in it. So, without a second thought, you give nod. All punctuated with a verbal, "I'm dead serious."

And with that out in the open, he grabs hold of your hand (the one that was on his leg) before giving it a squeeze. Something about it just tugs on the jagged pieces of your heart, not that they were all that broken. They’re more hurt, like a wounded pride, because you're almost fairly certain that this is what is ailing you the most about the Jimin situation. Well, that and the fact that this would become one of those unresolved relationships that you'd never have an answer to unless you braved a mutually willing conversation with him. (Not that you would, because again, your pride.)

You feel a little better afterwards, at the least.

The third time… god, the third time is a weird passing of “I’m lonely but you’re on my mind” and “Jesus, me too” that actually has you wishing that Jesus or some either higher deity could stop you from this poor decision-making skill. Because at this point, it’s not just to forget somebody or comfort yourself from heartache, it’s actually a voluntary choice that doesn’t last more than forty-five minutes and you counted because the nagging part of you is trying to remind you that what you’ve done is with your best friend and not just any other friend that—even with a given choice—you still wouldn’t opt into, because this time the problem isn’t just your terrible life choices. No, the problem is that you might actually feel something other than disgust and repugnance and exasperation and absolute, platonic adoration for a young man you’ve known since the start of elementary school.

You blame Woozi. It's his fault. Absolutely in the "I forced you two together because I know some shit went down between you guys" way. You don't know how he knows anything in the slightest considering neither you or Mingyu ever said a word about the previous times, but it's like he knew somehow. Well, regardless of whether he actually knew or not, it's still his fault and that stupid pantry's too.

Okay, and your heart's fault too.

But you still like to believe it's because of an inanimate object and because of that evil demon you and Mingyu have the misfortune of considering a friend, because that’s much easier than facing the music for yourself. If only he had just made you two streak down the street naked or drink some grotesque smoothie or something that didn’t involve an opportunity for something that shouldn’t have been so intimate in such an enclosed space, then maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t be put in this position.

God, if only it were that simple, because it isn’t like Woozi made you have feelings for that giant of a best friend of yours after all.

All you know is that the kiss, as simple as it was, made you do a double take. Like out of all things in life, it's not enough to say that you instantly realized you had feelings for him—that sort of thing takes time. This just made you thoughtful enough to really slow everything down. Those thoughts that you had been used to brushing off in Mingyu's presence made a reappearance, becoming a newfound factor in all your endeavors with him. Whatever you didn't think you would feel for him became something like an added layer to the already complicated relationship the two of you shared.

“Are you okay?” He asks you a few days after the incident, milk teas in hand and some take-out food you both love as sort of a celebration to the upcoming first year in college, because that's what that party was meant to commemorate in the first place. Yet somehow the whole thing managed to make you realize your stupid feelings for your stupid best friend.

You nod nonchalantly, reaching for the bag of goods. But like your chances of escaping your damn feelings for him, it slips from your grasp and hovers a little higher over you.  

“Hey!” You try making a fruitless jump for it.

He doesn’t even need to budge a little bit as he simply says, “Liar.”

“Am not,” you declare, glaring at him. Sort of. “Gimme my food, you moocher.”

“Hey, I actually bought this!” Looking down at you, his eyes narrow just a smidgen. There’s a lack of malice that only tells you that this is your own intervention. Either fess up or risk starvation. “Something’s up. Things feel… off.”

“Maybe because the scales of the universe have been tipped because I, the supreme overlord, am hungry.” You try to make another jump for the food, but you realize just how much closer he’s gotten before you’re instinctively stumbling backwards. “D-don’t do that—!”

“Do what?” he asks, frowning a little. “What’s going on with you, Y/N? Why’ve you gotten all jumpy around me?

“I—I,” you sigh, rubbing the back of your neck. “Alright, I know I called you over first about hooking up but I—I dunno. I realize how weird that is, because you aren’t really comforting me from anything. It was more like easing some boredom and that was really wrong of me, y’know?”

“Oh!” His voice goes up an octave before both his tone and his arm just a bit but you aren’t even bothering to reach for the food again, “Right. Well, I mean I told you I don’t mind—”

“—Why not though?” you ask, brows furrowing. It’s still the partial truth which is hell of a lot better than a whole lie, so you’re not feeling as guilty as before. You’ve long since resolved on not saying a word of your feelings altogether. “Doesn’t it bug you that I’m doing that?”

“I mean, why would it?” You’re about to open your mouth and state the obvious (because duh, why wouldn’t it?) but he continues, “We still talk to each other, support each other, and y’know love each other, Y/N. There’s never once been a moment where I felt like you were genuinely using me for my body or for the sex or whatever. I know that you’ve been hurt and that it led you to some rash decisions and I know that what happened a few weeks ago wasn’t something very conventional for us but… I dunno, it just—it doesn’t bug me. At all. I promise.”

You feel at a loss of words. You don’t know what you were expecting from him exactly, especially considering how unpredictable Mingyu can be, but if there’s one thing that remains consistent with him—it’s his reliability. Even in your own confusion and hurt, because this does bug you for some reason, you’re not entirely sure whether he enjoys being put in this sort of position or the fact that you enjoy being in this position with him.

“Okay?” he asks, tilting his head at you. “Does that ease some of your guilt?”

You involuntarily frown a little, obviously your own guilt wouldn’t just vanish, but for some reason your heart doesn’t feel quite that heavy knowing that he didn’t see what had happened as a mistake. You already know you shouldn’t have done it. You know that doing what you both did more than once will only lead to trouble (and it has). Hell, doing it in the first place came from a place of hurt, yet that still makes you wonder why he even let it happen—after all, he could’ve said no. So why?

“What’s wrong now?” He takes a step toward you, though you make no move to slip away this time. Your heart is still going haywire, your own brain wondering why you weren’t worried in the slightest that he may hear the disaster going on in you. But you remember that even trying to hide anything from Mingyu is a futile effort. Especially now that he’s eying you at a closer level, having long since setting the food down by the table.

“I’m just…” you rack your brain for the right words, dodging his inquisitive gaze for the cream-colored tiles. “Confused.”

“Why?” You can’t even see him but you can tell he’s frowning. His sneakers with the creases in the front have come into view, reminding you that you’ve definitely got to buy him a new pair for Christmas. His warmth is so fucking close, and you swear your heart might fall out of your chest because of it. You don’t understand why you’re reacting this way towards him or why it seems to titillate the butterflies in your stomach to be put in this position with him either.

Even with the likely chance that what you’re feeling is the complete opposite to his, you can’t seem to find any courage or will to push him away from yourself. It’s silly. Probably stupid. Hell, maybe you would’ve been screaming at some actress for pulling the same bullshit. But the image that glimmers in that thought not only includes yourself chucking popcorn at the screen, but with a rowdy companion who gets a little too excited and shows off his pitching skills just to make you laugh and clean up the mess when your mom gets home with daggers aimed at the both of you.

Whatever you’re feeling and whether it transcends the normalcy of what a best friend should feel for their best friend, you know that you can’t push off the subject any more than you have already. If not for your sake, but for Mingyu’s, because he’s worried about you. His hands are balled into fists at his side, trembling from the uncertainty that touching you (close intimate contact-loving and all) may set you off and draw you further away.

“I—well—how are you so okay with all of this?” you admit truthfully. Among the many things running through your mind, this feels like the safest bet. “How are you not confused?”

Apparently so, because now that you’re looking at him, you can see the worried brows unknit while his mouth parts into a small ‘o.’ He almost looks dumbfounded that you’re really looking at him but you don’t have much time to think after he’s spoken—

“I just know that I’m happy you chose me.”

Your heart reacts before your brain can, but at the very least your lips clamp shut before you can anything jeopardizing. Instead you tilt your head and furrow your brows, doing the best that you can to emulate your confusion (because you are definitely more confused than ever) and keep your heart from really falling out of your chest.

He laughs, running a hand through his hair. His cheeks give off the slightest bit of embarrassment. It makes him look endearing. You hate it. (No, you fucking love it, and you fucking hate that you love it.)

“You trust me. And that’s not confusing.”

Oh dear god, it so is. But you smile, because it does make you happy to see him so wholesome. Even with the guilt of your feelings and the stupid things that keep plaguing you with regret, the more you think about how easily you let this get out of hand and how much Mingyu really didn’t deserve to have a best friend who would put him in this situation just because you’re too emotionally incompetent to deal with them like a normal person.

“‘Kay?” he says, this time propping his hands onto your shoulders. He makes sure to meet your eyes, a contagious grin curving at the corners of his lips. No matter what he’s still your best friend. Your heart may ache for him, for whatever it is you two share in those most intimate moments, but if there’s anything you don’t mind keeping just for a while longer, then it’s moments like this where you can pull him into you with your arms wrapped around his waist and just let the rest of the world fall silent.

Even though you feel your heart rebelling, you still find yourself nodding against his chest, “‘Kay~”

What follows the events of that summer is an expected calm before the unleashing of a storm that comes only a few months afterwards—exactly eight months since that mid-July day. And in that time, you’ve found healing in surviving gruelling classes and managing your own time as a human being, even with the dulled embers of your heart’s desires constantly at your side with a goofy grin and poorly-strung words falling past his irritably chapped lips that makes you wish you could forcibly apply a good two or three coats of ChapStick just so he wouldn’t be too lazy to do it later. You see, just because your feelings for Mingyu made an appearance didn’t mean that you would push him out of your life and let the pain of those well-shared memories together overrule your connection with him. There were years and years of history between the two of you, and to see that go away would be worse than any rejection made by him. So, you did as you did best by pushing away whatever remnants of non-platonic emotions away, because this was Kim Mingyu, your best friend, your rock, your go-to when boys like Xu Minghao make an appearance only to make you feel lonelier than ever for reasons you couldn’t quite understand from a third-person perspective, and if you had to decide between quenching your selfish desires to be with him and take on whatever challenges would come in its wakes or simply live on with the knowledge that you once wanted to date your best friend, then you’d rather live on in silence.

And tonight, as always, is like most where you find yourself complaining about the opposite sex to your best friend, who happened to belong to that end of the spectrum. It reminds you of old times, of the memories when you once complained to him about Jung Jaehyun, but you find yourself lacking the same emotional disparity and more of the sexual frustration that comes when, well, you don’t.

“I hate him,” you groan, giving the pillow in your left hand a deafening smack with the other. “I hate him I hate him I hate him.”

You can hear a groan from the adjacent side to your room, “You said that the first fifty thousand times tonight, shut up already!”

Shifting your glare from your pillow, you aim it at the dark-haired boy perched at your desk and lob your makeshift punching bag right at him.

“You shut up. You’ve been talking about baseball since you came out of the womb, but you don’t see me complaining.” He doesn’t even flinch when it makes contact with his head, just letting it sit on his lap while he rests his elbows on his thighs. “Let me bitch about your stupid roommate.”

“For your information, you have complained about me talking about baseball. Relentlessly. In fact, just this week you were bitching about my game—”

“—It was three-and-a-half hours, Mingyu! Hours. That’s goddamn torture.”

“Imagine playing for that long. Now that’s goddamn torture,” he grumbles, mimicking your tone. Your eyes narrow, another one of your pillows readily available for another attack, but you only pause when you hear him sigh. “But seriously, why are you still hung up on him again?”

“Have you not been listening to me?”

He gives you a look, “Do you really think I can decipher your girl garble when you’re like this?”

“I’d like at least an effort, y’know,” you sniff, leaning your head against the wall. “Don’t make me regret calling you over.”

His eyes soften after they give your visage a once over, a terse nod passing before he leans back in his own chair as if to say, ‘effort it is!’ “What’s up then?”

“I—I don’t know,” you let out a frustrated sigh. “It isn’t like he’s a terrible person or anything but God is he a pain in the ass.”

“Pain in the ass how?” he raises a brow. “Is he bugging you about dumb shit? Forcing himself on you? ‘Cuz I’ll—”

“No! Not that,” you shake your head, actually letting out a bitter laugh as you do. “I just mean he leaves me hanging a lot.”  

“Like not texting you back?”

“Well, yes but no, that’s not what’s bugging me. I’m frustrated, Gyu.” Mingyu’s brows contort together, as if the picture weren’t clear as day. Though for someone that’s taken one too many baseballs to the head, you can’t exactly blame him for not picking up on your hints. Of all people, he should know what you mean.

That punk roommate of his seriously wasn’t bad at all, maybe snippy and grumpy (at times), he could text back more, maybe ask you to hang out once in awhile, but it seriously wasn’t any of those things that made you so mad. It was the fact that your status with one another was blatantly clear, practically crystalline with explicit photos and the occasional, cheeky mark to trademark it all. And still, even when you’re both so close to the ride of a goddamn lifetime, he pulls back and leaves so abruptly, you actually have to ask your roommate if you really did have someone over. Sometimes she can confirm it with playful dirty looks as you order apologetic milk teas equipped with boba and other jellies, but there are times where she gives you a funny look and goes, “You had someone over?” And whether it’s to genuinely fuck with you or not is still up for debate.

“Wha—”

You begin to whine, digging your head further into the wall out of complete sheepishness. You hate that Mingyu was right when he said that Minghao wasn’t the one you should mess with. It hurt your pride to be so damn hard-headed, even more so for your thick-skulled best friend to be so painfully right that your own core was screeching at you for putting it through this two-month long torture.

He waits somewhat patiently for your response but you can see the twitch of his hands from your peripheral and that has you clamping your mouth shut. Had his hands always looked that masculine? Your eyes widen, Oh fuck no.

“What?” his voice breaks into the never-ending negations running through your mind.

“Just shut up,” you shake your head, shutting your eyes for a moment to collect yourself.

You’re definitely just frustrated. There’s no way in hell you’re attracted to your best friend right now (again). This is just another one of those passing phases that come and go every now and then. Everyone goes through ‘em. It’s just one of those moments where you can look at them and say, “I could totally date you right now.” Just… y’know, with sexual implications in this case scenario, and under this rare circumstance, you know exactly how that would go down with him.

He grumbles something beneath his breath, but you hardly hear it when the sound of your heart seems to echoes up and down your body and your thoughts are running free into ridiculous circles all leading back to him and Minghao. If that auburn-haired little shit hadn’t built up your libidio this damn much, maybe then you wouldn’t actually feel those residual feelings from that night in the pantry. Or a few days ago when Mingyu drew you in for a tight hug, his hair slicked back with sweat and his uniform sticking to his lean body all too nicely. Or the husky sounds he’d make when your hair tickled his nose after all-nighters over the summer. Or the way his arms tightened around your waist just to keep you into place and snuggle even deeper that following morning. Or his lips—!

Nope nope nope. No.

“Fuck,” you mutter, opening your eyes just to see his furrowed brows and mouth slightly ajar. “You look stupid. Close your mouth before something flies in, dummy.”

“That’s golden coming from you when you looked like you just had some mind sex or some shit.” He begins to mimic what your face looked like, earning yet another pillow sent in his direction. This time you actually hit your target.

“Shut up!”

“Just tell me what’s wrong already!” He chucks the pillow in retaliation.

“He hasn’t gotten me off, alright?” The pillow misses your head, caught in your arms before you bring it close to your chest. “I’m frustrated because I haven’t had an orgasm. Is that clear enough for you?”

Please don’t fucking offer…. God, please don’t let him.

His eyes go wide for a moment before he plainly says, “Oh… well, fuck.”

“Yeah,” you huff, falling completely on your back onto your mattress. “It fucking sucks.”

Oh thank fuck.

Mingyu lets out a grunt, your swivelling chair now rolling toward the desk while he takes half a step and his weight now dipping your bed downwards as he pats your thigh. It’s warm and comforting, at least in the emotional aspect, which was all you really needed from his presence. Maybe some banter just to get your mind off your frustrations.

“Haven’t you… tried… doing it yourself though?” he carefully asks, leaning against the wall and your partially on your calves.

“Believe me, I have but if I wanted to just do that then I wouldn’t have been trying to mess around with him,” you deadpan, moving your arms behind your head as you steady the smooth, white ceiling.

“Then why mess with him if he’s not giving you what you want?”

You frown a little. Of course, you considered this, and it’s so damn simple it’s almost painful that he’d be the one to state the obvious. Mingyu does have his moments, so you’d give him props for the help. That’s exactly why you called him over, actually. Even though he could be painfully clueless with anything else besides baseball and the kitchen, he knew you and knew what to say when you needed to hear advice.

“Should I?” Your gaze flits over to his, and your brows raise in anticipation.

“I mean why waste your time, right?” He then grins, “‘Sides, you can come with me to Cheol’s party tomorrow night. Maybe you can find yourself a new toy to play with.”

Your nose scrunches at the comment and earns him a small kick to his side, but you do like the prospect of a party, especially Seungcheol’s parties. They usually wound up being really fun, whether you came home with anyone or not, anyway. The older boy just had a knack for entertaining others, always incorporating the best music and drinks, even being attentive to his guests.

Although, he often pestered you about yours and Mingyu’s status. He’s been so sure that you two would wind up together, but that just makes you curse Woozi for not letting that incident slip. Ironically, it seems you haven’t let it slip either. You don’t know if Mingyu has, though. You’ve never asked, and a part of you is a little scared to for some reason.  

“Yes? No?” he asks, moving to lay by your side. His warmth already seeping through to your side as he curls in toward you.

“Maybe,” you sigh, remembering you were supposed to meet with Minghao tomorrow.

He says suddenly, “I won’t go if you don’t.”

“Why?” you laugh as he pouts, though you can’t ignore how much your heart is going haywire from this position and the sudden proclamation.

“Cheol said I’d have to pay if you didn’t come, and I’m a poor, poor college student, y’know.”

“I’ll let you know, ‘kay?”

His lips loosen curl at the corners ever-so-slightly, dark brown hues glinting in nothing you’ve ever seen before, but you don’t particularly care to decipher it. Your mind is still wrapping around the fact that you really would’ve said yes to him in a heartbeat, if not for Minghao looming right in the in-between.

The auburn-haired boy doesn’t really remain in your mind, however, instead you find your brain infiltrated with screeches as you find Mingyu’s arms wrapped around your waist. His cheeks pressed to your bicep.

“‘Kay~”

Besides a massive fuck you (which is actually a lot more normal than the average person would think), the first thing that crosses your mind when you see Minghao is your decision from last night. It’s simple, to the point, and really, it’s sitting on the tip of your tongue, so ready to just fall past your lips in just one breath. But instead of letting out your grievances and stomping out this thing like you decided, all you can think is fuck as the taste of chocolate and caffeine on his unbearably plush lips fall on yours.

It’s poor decision-making, of course. After all, you could really just push him away and say, “Woah bud, we’re through. I’m better at getting myself off than what you’ve given me these past few weeks.” Instead you continue to let him kiss you, relishing in the taste of something to sate the growing fire inside you. Terrible, you already know. Do you care? Not particularly.

All sorts of rationality begin to fly out the window as he tugs you along to push you onto the bed. The plush bed padding conforms to the curvatures of your back, dipping further as he straddles your waist and grinds his crotch harder into yours as if the constrictions of both your jeans weren’t enough to elicit delicious waves of friction. Each gyration enough to coax a louder breathy moan that feels like music to both of your ears.

His lips look unbearably bare caught between his teeth, the reddish brown tendrils of his hair clinging to the sides of his visage as he seems to lose himself in his own ministrations. Without thinking, you reach forward and beckon him forth with the pull of his T-shirt and coax his lips free to meet yours with a fervid hunger because the daunting reality that this would end like any other relationship you’ve had before—official or temporary—only makes you want to cherish this moment even more.

The way you go about things may be odd, even so much that it even has Minghao pulling back with heaving attempts at catching up with the loss of breath but you see the alluring need reflecting off his dark hues. They’re contorted with hints of something you weren’t quite sure what to think, but the longing is different from the lust that has you blinking in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, loosening your hold on the grey material. The air feels unremarkably familiar like that plaguing distance has returned yet again, but this time you have no idea why. Was it you? Was there someone else?

“I—I don’t think we should do this anymore,” he straightens up, moving off of you. Air fills your lungs, but there’s no relief in it when you feel your brows furrowing in a deeper curiosity.

You want to half-joke, but it comes off a lot more bitter than you’d like: “That was supposed to be my line.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, moving toward the edge of the bed as you sit up to do the same. Neither of your legs brush up against one another, but you can tell that it’s on purpose from the way he pulls his hand away from your proximity and tightens in his lap. “I haven’t been very good at whatever this is.’

“Well, is there any reason why?” When he raises a brow at you, not that you miss the flash of realization cross his features, you sigh, “I know you’ve been holding back, Hao.”  

He opens his mouth for a moment before clamping shut, any explanation now hidden behind his teeth and swallowed down as his Adam’s apple quivers ever-so-slightly. It rubs you the wrong way just a bit. To think that he was pulling away without even a reason. For multiple reasons, it hurts.

“Are you going to tell me why?” you try again, hoping to search his eyes for anything resembling an answer. Something that would make sense to this whole ordeal. Even in all your time spent with Minghao, you never would’ve pegged him as the type of person to hold back his feelings. From the countless instances you’ve seen him lay waste upon his friends and tearing earfuls into random strangers on the street for being rude, inconsiderate jerks, it’s actually hard to believe that this is the same outspoken boy in front of you.

You carefully try again, curiosity getting the better of you and stubbornness keeping you from pulling you away and giving up already. “Minghao,” the call of his name elicits a small eye dart in your direction, but you don’t miss the shame that’s washed over his dark hues. “You can tell me anything, you know that already… what’s bugging you?”

“I—fuck,” he sighs, heaving out a laugh. “You and Mingyu. That’s what bugs me.”

You feel a deep knot anchoring your stomach even further down, as if it were possible for it to sink into the deeper recesses of your body, but you find your mind clouding with far too many thoughts to actually organize a cohesive comparison. You’re suddenly thrown back to that year Park Jimin dumped you over text, how easily he dropped you and used your friendship against you to let you go. You can feel your nerves careening and hanging precariously over a ledge that would only lead to the demise of your heart. It’s only been a few months, but the connection and relationship you had been sharing with Minghao wasn’t a passing fling. If anything, you swore it could bloom into something without thinking too deeply about it, because that’s just how easy it is with him.

Of course, the more you ponder this, the more you begin to realize just how fatal this train of thought is. You’re reminded more and more of your situation with Jimin and how crushed you had been and how angry you felt that your friendship with someone outside of this relationship was the sole factor in the end of what could’ve been something. And you know that you’ve shown no sort of interest or previous emotions for your best friend. You’ve staunched away those flames, let them simmer back down into your close-knit relationship that has only ever been as platonic as you two have always been. It just confuses you how easily you’re lumped together with Mingyu when a relationship goes awry and you hate how easily you’re assumed to be acting in infidelity with him when it’s never been like that in the slightest.

You’re about to voice your feelings, each syllable ready to fall out of your lips in a semi-calm manner, but Minghao’s pierces the still air with a scoff.

“C’mon, Y/N. You can’t sit here and tell me that nothing’s going on between you two.”

He probably doesn’t mean to sound so accusatory, but you find your eyes narrowing anyway. Who was he to say you had feelings for Mingyu? He wasn’t you. He didn’t know how you felt or how much you worked to get those feelings out of your system. You wanted to make this work, to enjoy the elation of a casual relationship like this one.

“I can, because nothing’s going on between us,” you reply sharply. “I think I’d know if I was screwing my best friend, while I’m not screwing you.”

“I’m not talking about fucking him,” he shakes his head, while his brows furrow. His eyes remain trained on yours, unrelenting without a chance of backing down in the slightest. “You love him.”

“W-what?” you splutter, eyes blown wide. “Where the flying fuck did you get an idea like that?”

“I have eyes. I don’t know what the hell happened between you two for you to react like that, but I know there’s more going on between you two than you realize.” If it wasn’t enough of a shocker, he even goes as far as stating simply, “I know for a fact that he’s in love with you.”

You didn’t like what Minghao said. In fact, you didn’t like this conversation, period. It actually feets like one of those conversations you would have with yourself whenever your thoughts rotated back to Mingyu. And to have that conversation with someone you were supposed to be romantically involved with feels even more like a slap in the face. Is this how Jimin felt? Is that why he disappeared without a trace?

You shake your head, willing the influx of thoughts away. Regardless of the faint traces of familiarity, you don’t like the inkling of false hope (or the very sensation of hope in this sense at all) and you certainly didn’t like how hellbent this auburn-haired man seems on it. You could practically feel his defiance as he didn’t dare back down on his theory no matter how much you tried to convey any other conjecture with your own level stare. Because, under what kind of goddamn basis could constitute him saying such a thing ? How could he, of all people, known when you were constantly side by side with that baseball player?

You retort, “That’s ridiculous. You can’t even tell me how you know this. It’s probably bullshit anyway.”

“But, is it really?” He raises a brow at you, gaze sweeping over your visage and even resting on your twiddling fingers before the corner of his lip quirked upward. “You’re acting awfully defensive for something you’re calling bullshit on.”

“Or, maybe,” you pipe up, glaring even harder than before. “I’m defending myself because you’re accusing me of being in love with my best friend? And maybe, just fucking maybe, I’m trying to figure out where the fuck you’d get an idea—which is complete bullshit, by the way—like that.”

“Like I said, I have fucking eyes.” He lets out a deep breath, breaking your stare down just to soften his just a smidgen as he continues, “And ears…”

You don’t say anything then, brows only furrowing in response to your own anxiety bubbling in the pit of your stomach—maybe I did fuck up and slip up after all…

“You probably didn’t mean to let it slip one night, but I know you and Mingyu fucked in high school. And it isn’t like Woozi’s the greatest at keeping secrets either so I know about the kiss too.” You feel a lot warmer than he’s ever made you feel, even when the distance seems to become clearer and clearer the long you’re there. “I dunno what really went down between you two and if whatever either of you say is bullshit because I never bothered to confirm it with him, but what I do know is that he’s crazy about you and I don’t think I can… get in between that.”

Without saying the words, it’s like he’s telling you: “And now I know you love him too.” His very voice, the downcast in his eyes—it’s everything you least expected to see today, and yet it’s also under your own whim that you rise from the bed and hesitate with words on the tip of your tongue. What could you possibly offer Minghao that could comfort him? You don’t even know how long he’s known any of these things, but knowing them altogether must’ve put him in a weird position. For him to end things with you… well, you get it.

Although part of your pride wants to argue with Minghao just to denounce all his claims and make him feel like shit for ever bringing it all up in the first place, another part of you knows that there’s really no of convincing him otherwise. He’s stubborn and well-natured. Even if he is an annoying smartass, he cares about Mingyu (and you) enough to let go of you. And even though you can’t exactly see his whole point in doing it, you also can’t help but find yourself muttering an apology to him anyway.

The last thing you remember doing before you leave his room is press a kiss to his cheek. Then the rest of your actions blur together and Seungcheol’s becomes your next destination.

Just as Seungcheol is about to charge Mingyu, you come bounding up the stairs of the fraternity house. It creaks beneath you but you hardly find a reason to care as you send a passing wave between the two with a tight-lipped grin spread across your visage. You try not to let the previous conversation get to you while you’re conversing with the two but it seems that any mention of Minghao goes ignored with an occasional glare to finalize your response, and Mingyu is no exception.

His eyes go wide for the briefest of moments before he drops the subject, slipping past Seungcheol and Dino with you at his side. Emotions you’ve been bubbling up inside you is beginning to spill over and a prickling pain in your chest has you reaching for the offered assortment of drinks with a fervid vigor that gives you whiplash for a second. At the least, no one asks why you’re trying to get shit-faced, but perhaps the reasons are written all over your visage now that you’re letting go of the mask.

There comes a blur of exchanging the usual pleasantries with Jeonghan and other friends that most certainly did not include Woozi (that damn bastard earned himself the bird after the raucous sounds he made at the sight of you and Mingyu together) and even partaking in the festivities of a good, ol’ round of Beer Pong and taking some time to shimmy your way around the dance floor with the dark-haired man trailing you and downing a drink each time you do tried to take two at once.  

But just as quickly as you arrive to the party, you find yourself preparing to leave all because the two of you have put yourselves in a precarious situation in which the narcotics have finally kicked in and all forms of your self-control seem to fade the moment Mingyu truly comes into view in all his dark-haired and handsome glory. His visage is too close to yours but only because his cheek presses against the coolness of the wall like yours. You don’t miss the way the two of you involuntarily move closer, your dilated irises flickering between one another and one another’s lips, with the blatant urge to say ‘fuck it’ and just go for it.

Unlike the countless times you’ve brought up the whole ordeal, it’s actually Mingyu who makes the first move with a more-than-expected eye-rolling line that has you guffawing at first—

“How about one more for old time’s sake?”

Your nose scrunches as you respond, “That’s what you’re gonna use to pick me up?”

“I mean, I could literally pick you up if you want,” he shrugs, smiling even deeper as you take a small step back, because there’s really no telling what he’ll do sometimes. “But I’m dead serious.”

“No,” you shake your head, giggling again, “you’re drunk and your name’s Mingyu.”

“Silly,” he grins, looking at you earnestly. “I mean it. If it’s what you want then I’m more than okay to make you feel better.”

Of course he knows something’s wrong...

You’re about to sigh, “Well—”

His voice goes down an octave or so, “Plus, I know I do way better than Xu.”

His cockiness makes you glare at him, but not in the ‘you’re dead wrong” way but more in a “you’re so irritatingly right” way. In this very moment, your desires are pushing past all the nagging logic that has stopped you in the past. You know you shouldn’t do this. You know that jeopardizing your friendship and willfully screwing him also means screwing yourself over. But you also know how much you want to feel him underneath you. To finally have a taste of his lips that you’ve craved since senior year. The very idea of it is enough to coax a single nod, and now you’re both on your way back to your apartment.

You’re there quicker than you expect, but the blur of events is much like your encounter with Minghao. It all leads back to Mingyu and his strong hand in yours as he tugs you along the familiar, darkened path back to your room. No one seems to be home, but you’re absolutely certain that whether anyone was or not, it wouldn’t matter. 

This has been a long time coming. 

Each grueling month since you put an end to your fun with Mingyu has been hard, and conditioning yourself to push away the feelings you began to cultivate for him has been even harder. But with the opportunity of this night, everything is coming back and the forever you two shared begins to bloom once more.

He has you laid out beneath him, his member so closely pressed against your thigh, you’re practically itching to feel it deep inside of you. However, you can’t help but let the words tumble out, “I—I kissed Minghao earlier.”

He looks at you with a smirk poised on those beautiful lips of his like that fact doesn’t change a damn thing. Instead of answering right away, he presses his own mouth to yours, fluttering pecks before he trails a way down your neck and onto your chest where rough nips take place. “I don’t care.” His voice is low, eyes glinting in dark-eyed lust. “You’re here with me now, babe.”

His lips are back on your body, trailing the places Minghao never once touched with such a fervid flurry, your head is spinning as it tries to keep up with each of his ministrations. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted, even more than you would’ve anticipated as his kisses feather off and he lavishes the reddened areas with his tongue in soothing circles that has you squirming.  

He doesn’t hold back as he makes his way down, detouring only to fondle your breasts with his hands and suckling on the perk nipples, before nipping his way down your torso and stopping right above your lower half. His hands are on your thighs and his soft exhale meets the clothed mound, squeezing your soft skin as soon as you find yourself squirming from the sheer anticipation.

You remember his playful nature from the previous time, but this time is even more frustrating with his very lips so goddamn close to the spot you’ve needed to be touched for the past two months, and not just by your own doing. You need someone who can touch you in all the right ways and hit all the right spots. You need… you need… well, fuck, you need him.

Not in the “I can’t function with anyone else but you” but in a “you can fuck me in all the right ways and you get me” way. If there’s anyone in this world that knows your body as well as you know yourself, it’s him. And if there’s anyone in the world that gets your emotional fluctuations, it’s him. And having this opportunity where his face is this close from giving you the orgasm you’ve-so-craved for the longest sixty days in this whole year, it’s almost painful to not be able to buck your hips properly because of how well he’s keeping you in place.

“Mingyu,” you whimper, attempting to move once more but find that he’s keeping you right there on purpose. The smile curving on his lips is lopsided but the light in his eyes tells you just how excited he is.

He breathes hard against your core as he asks, “Yes?”

“Please,” you squirm once again.

“Please what?” he blinks, almost innocently. You almost want to spit a proper retort at him but before you can blink one of his hands leaves your thigh just to graze across your panties. “Did you want me to touch you here?”

All you can do is gasp because holy fuck his fingers feel so fucking good against the lips, and that’s just the outer portion! To think he could do wonders (as always) when he reaches past your panties makes you quiver, earning an even wider grin splaying out across his stupidly handsome face.

“Or here,” he tries once more, actually going as far as teasing the edge of your panties.

“Please,” you gasp out, trying to wriggle, to no avail.

“Just tell me what you want, baby,” his voice is gentle, softening as they watch you with gleaming interest. He’s always adored the way he could make you come undone. Even during the previous times, there’s almost always been an indiscernible look in his eye that just told you how much didn’t hate what happened between the two of you. Whenever you saw it, your mind truly did shut up, and tonight really is no exception.

“You,” you answer, feeling your heart jump when you hear his breathing hitch. You vaguely hear him muse, “That’s not very specific.”

But you hardly control yourself as you bluntly say, “F-fuck, your fingers, Gyu. I w-want your fingers.”

And just like that, as if a switch turned on in him, a poised look on his visage tells you that what you just said was all he needed, because it takes only a split second before your thighs are free and your core is bare to the world. Your panties decorate your floor, along with his T-shirt and pants that had been thrown off since he had you laid out on the bed. He doesn’t even bother letting you moisten his fingers, instead doing it himself in at a snail's pace before pushing past your lips and tracing a circular pattern against the bundle of nerves.

You mutter an “oh my god,” throwing your head back, because this is exactly what you’ve need this year. The only thing you’ve truly desired since you put an end to your ministrations with him, because it seemed too overly complicated to deal with. But right now? It feels all too damn simple—it’s almost hard to believe you’ve been depriving yourself of this in favor of taking the high road.

Screw the high road tonight, your brain immediately pipes up, jutting your hips in a particular way that has you mewling once again.

He increases the pace of his fingers in the exact way you’ve always loved it, each thrust fueling the pent-up orgasm that’s been practically begging for you to have, because for once you’re finally accepting what your heart’s been crying out for. You know it’s wrong. You’re drunk, and you’re not in the right state of mind right now, but it almost flies out the window just to feel the blissful euphoria wash over you.

Your very essence coats his fingertips, and he makes the mistake of bringing them to his lips just for a taste and to say the very damned words that had you ready for a second round the first time, “You taste so fucking good.”

Without another thought, you put your hands on the side of his face, tugging him in for another deep and long kiss. It’s not quick as fervid as the plenty that came before, but it’s enough to have you both gasping. The taste of yourself and the Corona he had are on your lips, giving you reason to take a long, lavish lick on your bottom lips before you get ready to give him a taste of what he must’ve wanted.

However, he stops you. His hand is on your wrist, a shake falling at his head as he answers your unspoken question, “I can wait—I want to please you.”

“Fuck,” you tip your head back, propping yourself up by your elbows. “You really fuck me up, y’know?”

He smiles, pressing his lips to your forehead, “I just want to make you feel good.”

You want to respond, feeling an obligation to, but he stops you with his fingertips. They travel to the stray hairs framing your visage, tucking them behind your ears before he asks, “Won’t you just shut up and let me?”

You roll your eyes, feeling your cheeks burning beneath your overhead lights. Despite how much your heart is fluttering, the burn in your core still hungers for a real taste of what he has to offer, so without another thought to convince yourself otherwise, you give a simple nod.

“Okay, fine.”

He goes in to kiss you once more, much like your own kiss, but this is drawn out with his teeth grazing your bottom lip. As soon as he releases it, he reaches for your nightstand adjacent to the bed for the stash of condoms you keep there in case of occasions like this one and offers it to you.

With a smile, you grab it and carefully rip open the foil to place the contraceptive onto his exposed member. He’s gone a little soft in that brief intermission until he gives himself few pumps that has him tipping his own head back. He lets loose a guttural sound, the sound of your name garbled in between as his hand is no longer his own but rather it’s yours.

The control is literally in your hands, though instead of teasing him like you wish to, you decide to give it to him easy. It’s been that long of a wait, and you refuse to push it along further. Plus, the very act of a handjob is a simple task that doesn’t require much effort. All you really have to do is exert only two kinds of pressures: 1) from the grasp of your hand, and 2) from the sheer force of the pumping.

You know exactly how he likes it—it’s really no different than most boys—not quite too fast but not slow either. His immediate response is to tip his head back, letting out a low whimper that has a smirk curving on your lips. You decide to fuel the fire and add a slight press of your thumb on his tip, releasing your grip on him. He’s about to let loose a complaint, but before he can speak, he watches you take your thumb to your mouth and lavish the appendage.

His lips fall open and he says, “Fuck.”

“Are you ready?” you hum, pushing him onto his back. He nods and you begin to slip the condom onto his hardened length.

He whimpers once again. But he doesn’t say a word as you rise from your position to straddle his waist. You ask once more as you hover, “Are you sure about this?”

He blinks, looking up at you with eyes that have already stolen your heart and the soft touch of his hands are on your waist to give them a squeeze.

“I’m absolutely certain,” he smiles raising his brows at you. “Are you?”

“Of course,” you whisper, moving your hands onto his length to position it to your entrance. “With you, always.”

Without another word, you lower yourself onto him. He’s still thick as ever, but the burn of the stretch washes away as your usual ministrations begin. Your very core feels full to the brim from taking him in, even as you begin to jut your hips at a particular angle in search of the right spot. His hands remain on your waist, giving you squeeze every now and then. It’s like he’s reminding you that it’s him and not anyone else. And as full as your heart feels, your alcohol-hazed brain takes action and has you falling into your carnal instincts.

You don’t think about how this is him, and how this is wrong of you to let yourself do. You think about pleasure and how the two of you are going to feel the best goddamn orgasm either of you two have had since that summer, and although it feels like eons ago, you can still feel the waves of euphoria right now.

Having him guide you and letting you rest of your palms against his bare chest as soon as you find your G-spot is much appreciated. The small whispers he keeps repeating go over your head; however,  you feel the knot inside your core slowly coming undone as the rutting of his own hips induce more and more bliss with each thrust.

“Mingyu,” you repeat in breathy moans, each one getting louder and louder and your skins slap against one another. And each time you do, his hips don’t relent, allowing you to come undone after just a few moments. The strength in your arms wanes and leaves you with no choice but to practically collapse atop his chest, though he voices no complaints. “Fuck.”

“That’s it, baby,” he mutters as he manages to move you beneath him. His finger presses against your clit, leaving you with sensitivity and a pure sense of bliss. “Let it all go.”

And in that moment, you fucking do and it feels so damn good.

What takes place afterwards happens in a blur, but you’re certain that he manages to get off as well, your name falling past his lips in the prettiest sound that has your heart going haywire. He slips himself out of you and tosses the condom away, but he doesn’t get back into the bed until he’s coaxed you out of it to relieve yourself and pull on a T-shirt, because after the first time, you two remembered just how important it was to relieve yourselves and avoid UTIs!

By the time you return from the restroom, the comforter is different and the old one is tucked into your hamper at the corner of the room. He’s curled up on the left side, though a corner is dog-eared just for you. Instead of speaking, you decide to thank him later when you two wake and take the invitation of his arms with heavy-lidded eyes and soon drift off to sleep.

When dawn arises, its gradient hues washing your side of the world in muted shades of tawny and even the barest shades of frost, you wake up. 

The expected weight of Mingyu’s arm draping over your waist is yet to be found, but you know that he’s still in the bed. His warmth is seeping in onto your left side, beckoning you to the coziness of his side that only he can offer, and yet there’s a stark coldness that reminds you that there are things the two of you need to talk about before moving forward, as always. Still, this time is different. You don’t know how you know, but you just do.

Your head pounds a little as soon as he pierces the still air, but you power through because it’s that important—

“Do you still think about that night in the pantry?”

“You’re in love with each other, Y/N!”

The burning glare of Woozi would have anyone recoiling, as many people in your mutual friend group (and even those outside of it) knew just how scary he could be, especially after the Guitar Incident of freshman year that still has Mingyu deeply scarred. But unlike the others, you refuse to back down against him. Especially about his outrageous accusation.

“No, I am not!” You’ve had to emphasize this point for as long as you and Mingyu have known one another, and yet the message still fails to seep into the minds of your close friends. In some cases, it’s always been a running gag, almost a bet that the dynamic duo would finally consummate their secret love and get together, but it’s a bit of running gag of your own to know that this testament is actually bullshit, because nothing has changed since you and your best friend fucked.

You would think that something would bloom in that shared time together, but nothing has happened. Nothing’s changed. You screwed twice and you haven’t suddenly realized that you adore the way he can’t seem to sneeze in his own fucking elbow instead of a goddamn hand or the fact that he looks very adorable making spaghetti like that one time he bet you his newfound skills have reached a groundbreaking level (though eventually you did admit that it has improved since he first tried his hand at the culinary arts). But still, nothing has changed. Nothing will change.

You even go as far as saying, “It’d be impossible for anything to happen between me and him, Woozi.”

But the narrowing of the blond-haired boy’s eyes makes you want to take it back. The glint of mischief and the way he says, “Oh?” both pisses you off and actually kind of terrifies you.

There are only two times you’ve ever realized you fucked up, and this was that second moment. The first was when you let Mingyu teach you how to skateboard—to say the least, you still have that scar on your leg from the stupid fall into the bush and you still haven’t set a foot on those cursed deathtraps since then. Though somehow you kind of wish you had been on a skateboard in this moment.

“I call bullshit,” he says simply, brow raising. “I know something happened between you two. I don’t know what but I know something did and it’s making you two act weird.”

You try to guffaw, but it sounds more like a nervous choke. It only makes him narrow his eyes even more.

“Nope, nothing.” It’s a blatant lie. He goddamn knows it, but instead of calling you out like you expect, he smiles after a moment. “What?”

“So, if you two—I dunno—wind up in my pantry after this round of truth or dare, you won’t jump each other right on the spot?” He crosses his arms against his chest. “Because at the least, if nothing has happened between you two, lemme just point out that the sexual tension between you two is even worse than Dino and his right hand and that’s some serious shit.”

God, you don’t know who you want to choke more—yourself or this dude you’re supposed to consider your second closest friend. But instead of confessing, because fuck no are you going to let everyone be right (especially Woozi) about you and Mingyu. No, your stubborn ass is going to keep denying this shit until you die.

“Nope, not even a little bit, you fucking demon.”

He smirks, nodding slowly. “So, is that a promise?”

Your eyes narrow, blood pressure practically reaching its peak because no matter what he’s always known how to push your buttons. “Fucking bet.”

He holds his hand out to you, which you begrudgingly take with blatant vehemence. He looks you in the eye, “I can’t wait to commemorate your loss later, sweets.”

You scoff, “Oh fuck you.”

Before turning on his heel for the kitchen, getting ready to gather the group for the well-awaited game, he winks, “You’ll thank me later!”

Mingyu returns to your side after catching up with a few friends he hadn’t seen from middle school. His brows are knitted together at the sight of your seething visage, but he sees Woozi retreating figure as the kitchen door flutters and a daring smirk curls on his lips. “He piss you off again?”

You groan, nodding, “You have no fucking clue.”

He pats the top of your head with some sympathy before snatching two of that flavored vodka Woozi managed to convince his brother to buy and  it burns like a motherfucker but you take it anyway because you know you’ll need it to get through the night. Of course, you’re not going to mention the conversation to Mingyu at all. There’s really no point in it considering his height and his somewhat intimidating looks do nothing to the short boy, and if anything, you’re better off facing off in a fight with that demon than your best friend.

And it isn’t like you have a chance to tell him anyway, because Woozi bursts into the room, this time with the hordes of people and a bottle of Fireball just to announce everyone’s required participation in the game.

You feel absolute dread in the pit of your stomach as you find yourself sitting in the circle with the endless possible scenarios in how Woozi will turn this shit on you. Even if you chose truth, you know damn well he’d make that option just as bad as the dare, and honestly, being in that enclosed space with Mingyu could hardly harm a damn thing anyway.

Even with the fear of what could happen, because what’s really there to fear anyway?, you mentally prepare yourself for whatever may come. You don’t care if the table gets flipped on you. And you don’t care about what Woozi thinks, because it’s you and Mingyu who know the truth and no one else. So, with a newfound resolve, you await your turn.

The order goes in counterclockwise, with you coming after Mingyu and  a few other souls that take the easy road. The first three of them have gone, but by the time your best friend’s turn comes, you almost don’t bat an eyelash when he asks for ‘dare’ until it hits you that Woozi is his executioner, and the malignant look flashes across that boy’s eyes.

“I dare you to go into the pantry with Y/N for seven minutes.”

Your jaw refuses to drop, though you find your mind screaming at your so-called friend, because goddammit you should’ve seen this coming. You knew it was coming, and yet, to see the innocent elation flash across Mingyu’s eyes when he looks over at you, a part of your heart swells because could it really end that badly?

(God, if only you knew.)

The space itself is a little tight considering how much space Mingyu takes up. His broad shoulders squeeze together out of consideration for you, but as soon as the doors shut with Woozi’s last words echoing through your head: “You have seven minutes, love birds!”

The dark-haired boy looks at you with an adorable sheepishness, “Sorry for dragging you into this.”

You shake your head, “Nah, s’okay. Woozi’s just evil.”

“You okay?” he suddenly asks, trying to step back. “You want me to move—”

But all his back is met with is the shelves and an unopened bag of rice that had his stumbling just a bit. You’re about to ask him if he’s okay; however, his attempt to steady himself only leads into more stumbling and somehow you two wind up on the ground with him cushioning most of your fall.

“Oh fuck—!” you blink from the sudden impact, barely registering the sounds that ensue from the sudden trip.

“Ow!” he says among a few curses, blinking profusely as he sees you in all your glory right before him. “A-are you o-okay?”

You nod slowly, meeting his eyes with concern now melting off your visage. The only thing you can really focus on right now are his eyes, and the way they search yours for any hidden pain. His hands automatically finding purchase at your hips in a gentle manner. He looks like he wants to say something, but it’s like the words are caught on his tongue; you know you want to say something too, but it feels like your own words are stuck on your tongue.

The only thing running across your mind is just how much you’d like to feel his lips against yours and feel your heartbeat quickly. You want your thoughts to suddenly go quiet and to just live in that small moment with him, because being here with him somehow makes everything else melt away.

Slowly, but surely you lean in until your lips touch. You steady yourself by placing your hands on his shoulders, giving yourself enough leverage to pull him in closer. Unlike the previous kisses, even the ones from ages past, this one is completely different. It feels different. The very taste of his lips are sweet albeit laced with traces of vodka and the sour gummy worms from the snacks table, they mold themselves to yours and coax only the tenderest of pleasure to flood across your body.

It feels like it last forever, but you two pull away to breathe. You’re heaving, chests both moving inward and outward in hopes of catching your breaths, but you feel like your heart has swelled so large, there’s no room for your lungs.

“I—” He tries to say, but you pull him again, just for one more taste.

The magic happens again—the swelling of your very organ making you feel warm all over and not out of an increasing labidio. Nowhere in this are any far-from-innocent implications, only the genuine feelings of two friends, and yet that leaves questions imprinted on your mind and a sudden thought that has you blanching by the time Woozi swings open the door, snapping a photo that has you both breaking apart from the intrusive of the flash, because holy fuck do I love my best friend?

You refuse to say a word to Woozi that night, but the look on his face seems to tell you that your secret with Mingyu is safe with him. Though it makes you feel heavy-hearted from the loss of his hands on your hips and the heat that only he seemed to be able to share so damn well. Even though these are things that seem so simple and so him, you can’t help but find them… endearing and heartwarming.

Something (read: everything) changes that night, and all you can think is a simple: Fuck.

Your response is on the tip of your tongue, and you’re just about to do so until he beats you to the punch, “Because I still do.”

You blink for a moment, realizing what he’s just said, “You do?”

You turn to face him, watching as he nods with his attention still remaining on the ceiling. “I think about it a lot.”

“Why?” you have to ask. You need to know. Even if it’s a simple reason, because even if it’s far from what you’re hoping for, you just want to know. It might even set ease to your heart, and really, that’s all you can hope for.

“There’s something I wish I said before Woozi came to get us,” he admits, smiling faintly.

“Was that when I interrupted you with a kiss?” you ask, recalling the way his cheeks looked so faintly pink before it all melted away and the taste of the vodka and sour gummy worms had remained on your tongue then.

This time he turns to look at you in surprise, “You remember that?”

You nod, “Of course, sorry ‘bout that, by the way…”

His smiles even wider, reaching over to pat your head but he makes it about halfway before he lets his hand rest in the space between you two.

“Well,” he sighs, eyes wandering elsewhere. You feel your nerves tighten up, because he hasn’t acted like this in a long time. “I… was going to tell you that I love—d you.”

You want to flinch or react somehow, but you don’t. You just watch him, feeling your heart flutter in the way he hesitated in his use of the word ‘love.’ Honestly, you don’t think you ever humored the idea of him loving you back then but it seemed to make sense.

“When… did you realize?” you ask, reaching for his hand. He hesitates to hold yours, but you just entwine your fingers to tell him that it’s all okay.

“Senior year,” he answers softly. “I don’t know how but when I saw you after that game where we won champs and the first thought that came to mind was you and seeing you there… I… I guess it just hit me that if there was anyone out there for me, then it’d be you. And not because you’re my only option or anything, but because if there was anyone in this world that I’d like to spend my life with then it’s you.”

He continues after a soft laugh, “I didn’t know how to tell you, but then that kiss happened and I wanted to right then and there and…. I dunno I guess I got scared.”

“‘M sorry, Gyu…” you sigh, giving his hand a squeeze.

Before you can say another word, he replies quickly, “S’okay that you don’t feel the same!—”

“—I do!” you say a little too sudden, wincing from the sharp pain in your head. His eyes suddenly go wide, immediately asking if you’re alright. He’s about to get out of the bed just to go and grab you an aspirin but you pull him back down. “I’m fine, really, it’s just… I love you too, okay? I realized that when we kissed in the pantry and I’ve been trying to convince myself otherwise since then.”

He remains in place as you wish, eyes softening as he asks, “Why?”

You laugh, almost bitterly, “Fear, I guess? I’ve lost plenty of people before, but losing you would be the worst blow of them all. I don’t think I could take you leaving me if things went wrong.”  

He watches you, almost expectantly, “Is there a ‘but’ somewhere there?”

“But, we can’t go back from this, y’know,” you point out, slowly shifting your focus from your entwined hands to meet his eyes. Without even thinking, you find yourself feeling flushed and the corners of your lips begin to feel sore.

His brows are raised when he asks, “Do you want to?”

“Well, honestly,” you admit, shaking your head. “No…”

He grins wider than ever, “Good.”

A long silence casts between the two of you, though in that time you’re finally back in his arms with his warmth now seeping through his T-shirt and your hearts swelling larger than ever together.

You feel the urge to knowing something, so you suddenly ask, “What the hell are we then?”

“Whatever the hell you want us to be, babe,” he responds and presses his lips to the top your head. “As long as I’m with you, I’m okay, ‘kay?”

Even now, it’s different.

The morning rays of the sun begin to peek in through your window, and unlike the previous moments you’ve spent together, it isn’t nighttime. But the night is reserved for the special times, for the right-now’s you shared right then, and for the forevers you will share together.  

You can’t help but feel contentment in the ease of his presence and the excitement that will come as you two spend more time together.

As long as you’re with him, you’re okay too, so you simply say, “‘Kay.”  

[tearlessrain]

also. fuckin. it's a massive, stunningly beautiful sandbox cowboy game, why would you want to grind in it. it's so much more fun to meander around and just do whatever piques your interest and pat your horse and find all the cool stuff scattered around.

I mean obviously people can play however they want it just seems like specifically the ones who are technically "best" at the game are also the ones who seem to hate every second of playing it.

on the one hand yes RDO has a lot of lost potential but on the other hand it's still a fun game and I suspect there's a correlation between the "here's how to max out every role as fast as possible with optimal efficiency and profit" people and the "why don't I have anything left to do" people.

like. idk I play with shit efficienty and progress very slowly and I have a ton to do for the forseeable future. there are benefits to being a filthy casual and not metagaming.

[wisehowell]

just a lot of questions

got tagged by @teatowelhowell to answer these 92 questions- that’s a lot, btw THE LAST 1. Drink: water 2. Phone Call: one of my best friends to rant about something 3. Text Message: hm oh on sc i was ranting about bts to another best friend 4. Song You Listened To: let’s open spotfiy... coming home by tuen/anki. oh that’s a good song. i don’t think anyone knows it exists, but 5. Time You Cried: heh like i remember i probably hit my toe against something HAVE YOU EVER 6. Dated Someone Twice: lol single life (my parents no let me anyway) 7. Been Cheated On: heh 8. Kissed Someone And Regretted It: heh 9. Lost Someone Special: my grandma :( also three best friends bc we went to different high schools and it was too hard to stay together 10. Been Depressed: uhm no i’m too confident it’s kinda insane but yea 11. Gotten Drunk and Thrown Up: yep, at age fifteen. (altho i’m like 19ish days away from sixteen) LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS 12. teal, green with a hint of blue. not aqua, which is blue with a hint of green. 13. silver (especially if it shimmers) 14. a rich blue IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU 15. Made New Friends: of course! i made about thirty, idk. but i love em all. some graduated high school tho so now i’m sad 16. Fallen Out of Love: what is love 17. Laughed Until You Cried: duhhh 18. Found Out Someone Was Talking About You: nah i’m that “smart, cute girl that’s too loud and follows every rule ever” according to my friends we got no drama 19. Met Someone Who Changed You: my four best friends 20. Found Out Who Your True Friends Are: mhm. for now. but college... 21. Kissed Someone On Your Facebook: do you mean ig or sc bc fb is dead 22. How Many of Your Facebook Friends Do You Know in Real Life: like i have fb no it’s for old people like my parents 23. Do You Have Any Pets: a hermit crab named digger! nickname- diggles 24. Do You Want To Change Your Name: well my name is annoying bc ‘phoebe’ is never in any gift shops and people (guy friends mostly) say it wrong on purpose or spell it wrong. people i’ve known for years spell my name wrong- pheobe. i’d change it to idk what something cool like olivia or kat. 25. What Did You Do For Your Last Birthday: that was a year ago jeez but i think i went to a waterpark 26. What Time Did You Wake Up: 7, altho today was a rarity usually it’s 8ish 27. What Were You Doing at Midnight Last Night: tumblr and anime and sc 28. Name Something You Cannot Wait For: taylor swift’s new album. yes i’m a swiftie. fight me. 29. When Was The Last Time You Saw Your Mother: last night i’m still in bed lol 30. What is One Thing You Wish You Could Change About Your Life: my mom having the job she wants instead of being a librarian. nothing about me tho i’m good. 31. What Are You Listening To Right Now: i paused my music for that other question but okay the same song as before 32. Have You Ever Talked To a Person Named Tom: i know a tommy? but his full name is thomas. 33. Something That Is Getting On Your Nerves: fffffa- i’m not saying 34. Most Visited Website: google 35. Elementary: idk what that is but im assuming you mean primary school? so my favourite memories of primary school was egg-rolling in the park, my first best friend, sandboxes, jumping pig game, the ditch, cleaning fruit baskets, horrible pizza,SITTING ON THE MOTHERFUCKIN BENCHES, the music trolley, the ditch, love tunnel, shirt signing, plimsolls, penguin bar jokes, bringing in an old shirt for art, lunchables, recorder lessons, the shoes from clarkes with the shitty toys in the heel, doughnut socks, the 3d shape bag,PGL/ Residential trips, stuck in the mud, turning the lights off in the toilet, biff and chip, being told we were to big for the play equipment in year 6. (I feel like that was the most british thing I’ve ever written and any americans probably have no fuckin clue what half of these things are)

OKAY BUT I’M KEEPING  WHAT @teatowelhowell PUT BECAUSE as an american i have no idea what this says. like jumping pig game? lol is that like the frog jump game kids do? but pigs are frogs bc maybe there’s no frogs over there? altho i don’t think so. i know what a trolley is from british vlogs. but love tunnel? plimsolls? shoes with toys in the heels? biff and chip? huh? girl your language is confusing. as for my elementary it was pretty and i made a lot of friends but they all went to a diff high school & middle bc of boundaries so i only know like ten people from my elementary in high school. 36. High School: should i tell you? my mascot is shark 37. College/University: hm i wanna go to uc davis or uc something. 38. Hair Colour: brown with goldish highlights that are natural bc my dad used to be completely blond and i guess i got some of that 39. Long Hair or Short Hair: like medium 40. Do You Have A Crush On Someone: no bro just jensen ackles 41. What Do You Like About Yourself: i make friends with literally everyone i love it 42. Piercings: no bc i do year round soccer- for like ten years- so i never had time XD also i know why piercings are popular and how it all started with early us- natives- so idk it seems kinda uncivilized to stick a hole in a body part and put a stone in it. so when i’m done with soccer i don’t think i’ll pierce my ears bc it’s kinda weird to me 43. Blood Type: my parents don’t even know. whatever the most common one is, i’m sure 44. Nickname:(phoebe is pronounced FEEBEE) phoebs, phoebster, fo-e-be, phobe wan kenobi, anne (i give other people nicknames usally) 45. Relationship Status: go away 46. Zodiac Sign: leo. roar. 47. Pronouns: she/her 48. Favorite TV Show: Supernatural, Reign, Once Upon a Time, Sherlock, Arrow, Gravity Falls when it still lived 49. Tattoos: no 50. Right or Left Hand: right FIRST 51. Surgery: i had an extra tooth so i had to get that taken out before it grew in. but i also destroyed my elbow in kinder and had to get stitches? idk if that’s a surgery 52. Piercing: we went over my feelings on them 54. Sport: soccer! did flag football with my soccer team too for two years it was fun but all the guy teams beat us bc we weren’t really trying we were just laughing 55. Vacation: uhm my parents take me a lot of places so idr. uhmmm maybe yellowstone? 56. Pair of Trainers: trainers? uhm are those pants? a bra? oh lol i looked it up. they’re tennis shoes. my first pair were probably just nike. 57. Eating: wtf ? is this like the first time i remember eating? << wisehowell agrees with her. 58. Drinking: i’m not old enough to drink legally so 59. I’m About To: eat breakfast? 60. Listening To: uhm whattt i just said i paused the dang song so same oneee but here i’ll rec you a few artists: BANNERS, LIGHTS, and clairity. (those two are supposed to be caps) 61. Waiting For: school to kill me 62. Want: nothing just my friends 63. Get Married: sure 64. Career: that’s confusing YOUR TYPE 65. Hugs or Kisses: hugs 66. Lips or Eyes: eyes altho i have brown eyes and everyone hates brown eyes so idk man. but i’ve never been complimented on my eyes in my life so i feel rude if i say eyes bc as a lame eyed i know how cruel it is to judge by eye color 67. Shorter or Taller: i’m 5ft flat so everyone is taller than me 68. Older or Younger: idc 70. Nice Arms or Nice Stomach: no 71. Sensitive or Loud: idc 72. Hook Up or Relationship: relationship 73. Troublemaker or Hesitant: neither bro 74. Kissed a Stranger: no 75. Drank Hard Liquor: no I’M FIFTEEN usa has strict drinking laws okay like yea my uh fun friends get high and drunk but i’m a valedictorian i gotta keep my rep 76. Lost Glasses/Contact Lenses: i have glasses but i would never lose em 77. Turned Someone Down: when someone turns up i’ll let you know how it goes << I’M LAUGHING 78. Sex on First Date: again do i need to say my age 79. Broken Someone’s Heart: some guys had crushes on me and my friends told me that they told them like a year later so i guess i did 80. Had Your Heart Broken: no 81. Been Arrested: no, i luv rules 82. Cried When Someone Died: wth 83. Fallen For a Friend: nah my guy friends are too stupid to love DO YOU BELIEVE IN… 84. Yourself: yea 85. Miracles: no god isn’t real 86. Love at First Sight: uh we’ll see 87. Santa Claus: nooo not since i was four 88. Kiss on First Date: why not 89. Angels: no if god isn’t real why are his slaves (i’m kidding, i totally respect the religious community) OTHER… 90. Current Best Friend’s Name: i’ll give the first letters of the four. a, a, c, c. (i’m not kidding for whatever reason most of my close friends have a or c names like i had two old best friends with both a. and another with c) here i’ll tag one. @galaxy-searcher 91. Eye Colour: brown (boooooo) 92. Favourite Movie: idk i don’t pick favs but song of the sea is cute

uhm. i don’t want to tag people bc it’s 92 questions. do it if you want XD