#jesus he saw me recognize him and just kept fucking walking LMAO

[dayoneliveaid]

i legitimately just ran into joe mazzello in Penn Station... what is my life

[elias-code]

That's My Job - Glatt x gn!reader

~ Ask Link ~

Characters: Glatt x gn!reader, Fundy, mentioning Quackity

Summary: You haven't been back to Manburg since Schlatt died. Now that Techno's destroyed every trace of it, you've returned with Fundy to drink and mourn. Fundy leaves you to your devices and Glatt ends up waking you up, taking care of you, and confessing...

Warnings: lots of cursing, heavy drinking, death, mourning

------ sorry it's so angsty lmao I just love torturing myself :) ------

Ever since Schlatt suffered his massive heart attack at the end of his presidential term, you’ve been wandering the SMP. You’d gotten close to him during his campaign trail, eventually helping him do paperwork, or rather, you did it all for him. You hadn’t been back to Manburg since his death, but now that it was gone, completely gone, you decided it was time to return.

It was a crater. Nothing was left. The office building was gone, the festival grounds were gone, and even the presidential podium was gone. Now, glass covered the crater, giving you the full view of what you had been most afraid of. It made you sick to look at it, bringing up memories from the election.

The worst part of it was that he was gone. Everything in Manburg that reminded you of him was gone, even his friends were gone. The group split shortly after he died, giving up on the decimated country. He was the only thing keeping them together. For better or for worse.

“Hey, Fundy,” You said, stuffing your hands in your pockets. He'd offered to come with you, knowing just how hard it was to be back there.

"Hey, it's nice to see you again," He carried a bottle in his hand and offered it to you. He'd already popped it open and taken a sip of it. "It's a bit strong, but you might need it."

"Thanks," You took it readily, not bothering to read the label before you took a swig. The liquid hit your tongue and burned as it went down. You coughed, spitting the remaining drink on the ground, "What the hell is this stuff?!"

Fundy was practically on the ground laughing. Your tongue and throat still burned from the alcohol and you rotated the bottle to read the label.

Fundy™ Vodka, (98% alcohol)

"Are you trying to kill me Fundy? This shit is ninety-eight percent alcohol?! How did you manage that?" he continued laughing at you as your face burned from embarrassment.

"It's a trade secret," he chuckled, "The people in Las Nevadas really love it," he shrugged.

"How are they all not dead?"

"Don't ask me," He said, "I'm just their dealer. Quackity buys in bulk."

For a moment, it was as if Schlatt never died. You laughed with Fundy for a bit, drank, and reminisced. It was like old times, the hay day, but every time you looked around, you were painfully reminded of the past.

"Hey, I wanted to show you something." Fundy stood, offering you a hand. You were both buzzed already. Each sip of the vodka went down like two shots and you'd gotten a decent way down the bottle by now.

"I'm happy to stay anywhere other than here," You took his hand and gestured around at the crater, "This place sucks." You swallowed a lump in your throat and followed Fundy off the path.

You looked down as you walked. You didn't want to be reminded of him any more than you had to. The people here were moving on from it all already. To be fair, it had been a while, but you'd been closer to him than anyone else, even closer than Quackity.

"Here," He stopped and pointed at the clump stones in front of him. He sat down on the bench as he had done many times before, letting you inspect your surroundings.

"What is this?"

"It's a shrine thing I made," He said sadly, "A long time ago. I haven't been here in a long time, so I refreshed the flowers a bit for you."

The cobblestones were unmarked, put in a rough pile surrounded by oxeye daisies and dandelions. To any passer-by, it was just a pile of rocks. To you and Fundy, it was Schlatt's grave.

Of course, he wasn't buried there. He'd been buried in a nice grave surrounded by gold and diamonds, but it had been griefed so many times that it wasn't worth visiting anymore. Instead of being reminded of him, you were reminded of how many people hated him. Here, it was much quieter.

"Thoughts?" Fundy asked, passing you the bottle as you sat with him.

"It's not bad," You took a swig, used to the taste by now, "I can't help but think that it's painfully accurate that we're getting drunk at his grave."

Fundy laughed briefly, eventually letting the blanket of silence fall over you. The lump in your throat rose once more and you swallowed it with another sip. This must be what he felt like at the end. Drinking to forget, shoving his problems down as far as he could with each drink until, one day, his heart couldn't take it anymore.

"You ok?" Fundy asked, concerned.

"Huh? Yeah," You stared blankly at the stone pile, "Just thinking."

"You're crying," He said.

You touched your cheek and found it wet with tears. You hadn't cried since the day he died, the day you left.

"Do you..." He sighed, "Want some time alone?"

You hesitated. "Yeah," you croaked, "as long as I get to keep the alcohol,"

"Just don't drink it all," He touched your head and walked off.

-

"Hey. Hey. Get up," You felt a finger poke your temple and you jerked awake to Schlatt's voice.

"Finally," He sighed, "What do you think you're doing on my property?"

Through your hazy vision, you saw him.

"Schlatt?" You reached your hand out towards him, but you felt nothing.

"Yeah, yeah," He moved out of your reach, "Hands off, kid."

You rubbed your eyes and squinted, there's no fuckin' way...

"What the hell?" You spat, "Is this a fever dream or some shit?"

In front of you was Schlatt, or a paler blue version of him. He was holding the bottle of vodka, reading the label.

"Oh so Fundy's got a damn business now, does he?"

"Whoa whoa whoa," You ignored him, "Schlatt?! You're alive??"

"Calm down," He rolled his eyes at you, "haven't you ever seen a ghost before?"

He tossed the bottle back to you but you fumbled it and it shattered on the ground.

"Shit!" The bottle broke into sharp, jagged pieces. No vodka came out of the bottle, it was empty.

"You're still a terrible catch, good to know," He sat beside you, walking through the glass. You realised with a start, He's translucent...

You woke up fully, putting your hands on your face and shaking your head. Your brain rattled around in your skull, giving you a painful migraine. The bottle was empty... how much did I drink? Your memory from the past few hours was more or less blank, only the occasional flash of sunset or Fundy was left.

"You're drunk as fuck, you know that?" He said, sitting judgingly.

"What?" I must be if he's here, "Are you even real?"

"Yeah," He sounded offended, "Look at me! What do you mean am I real?"

You laughed, now convinced you were out of your mind. "How was I supposed to know?"

He furrowed his eyebrows at you, evaluating your mental state. "That stuff will kill you." He said, genuinely concerned.

"Oh, and you'd know all about that, Schlatt," You spat, "As if I hadn't warned you a thousand times,"

He leaned back, "Says the person who left the country the moment I died,"

This sent you over the edge and you started sobbing. You put your hands to your face, practically screaming into them. You refused to deal with these emotions for so long, and in some cruel twist of fate, you'd become the thing you hated the most. You'd done the thing you warned Schlatt about countless times. It finally came back to bite you in the ass.

"Sorry, I-" He started, putting his hand on your back. He didn't know what to say, he wasn't the best at comfort, "I've missed you,"

Your sobbing calmed down slightly, downgrading to crying. The tears stung your eyes and your throat burned, partly from the drink, partly from the stress you were releasing.

"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up," He said, standing to lead you down the path. You followed, stumbling slightly as the drink caught up to your balance. Just before you fell, he caught you and slung your arm around his shoulder, practically carrying you.

"Man, I was hoping you'd be in better shape the first time I saw you."

"What do you mean?" You mumbled, leaning on him heavily.

"I mean I haven't seen you in so long," He bit his lip, "I was starting to think you'd never come back. Then I saw you with Fundy, drunk as a skunk, sleeping on my bench. Not what I'd say was a good first impression. In such a long time, I mean."

"Yeah, but you're... dead."

"So? What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you died. You had a fucking heart attack, alright? We mourned for you, I mourned for you. I ran away because I couldn't bear to look at them. Those people who said they were your friends. They took different sides. They gave up on you. In a way, I guess I did too, just because I had to."

He grits his teeth but kept walking. "I was just as disappointed in them as you, kid."

You'd reached the end of the path. He looked around quickly and opened the door. You recognized it as Fundy's house. It was vacant, Fundy was nowhere in sight. Schlatt laid you down on his bed, leaving to get a washcloth and a glass of water.

"Sit up," He said, pushing the glass into your hand.

You grabbed it readily and took a swig, dehydrated from the tears you'd shed. As you drank, he put the damp washcloth to your forehead and neck, trying his best to sober you up a bit.

"You're on fire." He said, frowning at you. "Your face is all red. How much of that stuff did you drink?"

"The whole bottle," You muttered.

"And you're still alive?" He laughed.

"I'd ask Quackity the same thing,"

"What does this have to do with Quackity?"

"Fundy's selling it to Las Nevadas, I guess." You shrugged and he haphazardly dropped the washcloth in Fundy's cauldron.

"What?"

"Las Nevadas," You laid back down, "Quackity has a city now. Leaned into the whole gambling thing."

"Jesus, I missed a lot, haven't I?" He laid next to you, the sheets didn't move.

"I guess so." You turned to look at him. His suit was torn like he hadn't changed it since the day he died. His beard was barely shaped, his hair a mess, and his horns were as sharp as ever. He was exactly the same as he looked that day. Dishevelled and broken down.

"I mean it, I missed you." He said, "It's not like I had any paperwork to watch you do, but I wish I had."

"You watched me do that?"

"Yeah, I had to make sure you weren't stealing it or something," He excused.

You chuckled, "You never kept track of that shit, there was no way you would have known."

"Alright fine, you want me to admit it?"

"Admit what?"

"You make this... face when you work. When you're really focusing on something... It's hard to look away."

Your heart skipped. The ghost of Schlatt confessed to having a crush on you? No one would believe this, especially since you barely believed it yourself. You burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of it.

"What?!" He snapped.

You kept laughing as your head throbbed, the headache coming out in full force now, "You had a crush on me?"

He scowled, "No." He sat up and tapped his foot on the ground, "I have a crush on you."

Huh? "Even though I've been gone for months?"

"Yeah," He said, "It's not like you forget someone like that."

He sounded sad, distant almost. Like you were the ghost.

"Hey," You shuffled over to him, putting a hand on his leg, "It's super cheesy, but," You sighed, god I sound like a child, "I like you, too."

His face flushed, as much as a dead person's face could flush. "Little old dead Schlatt?"

"Yeah, why not?" You sighed, "It's been so long since I've seen you, but... I mean, why do you think I left?"

"I don't know. I thought about that a lot while you were gone."

"I left because I cared about you. It was too hard to see you in everything around me. I left to get my mind off of you because every waking moment of every goddamn day was spent thinking about you," He looked at you, poorly holding his poker face, "I only came back because everything was gone. There was nothing to come back to. Or so I thought."

"Yeah, Technoblade did that." He jeered, "Twice."

"This isn't about him," You put your head on his shoulder, "If I'd have known you were still here... I would have stayed."

"To be fair, I was stuck in... hell... for a while until I finally figured out how to get back up here," He said, "By the time I'd come back... You were long gone. Months had passed."

"It was selfish for me to leave. I'm sorry."

"No, it was shitty of me to be mad you didn't stay. You told me so many times to put down the damn bottle and yet, you stayed by my side until the end. I let you down."

"I guess we both have things to be sorry for, then." You said.

You sat in silence for a while, coming to terms with what you'd both just said. It wasn't in either of your characters to say anything like this. There were some serious feelings passing back and forth between the two of you, and nothing to prepare you for them.

"Fuck I'm gonna puke," You said.

He pulled back, "Don't do it on me, sicko, Jesus!"

You laughed, "I'm fuckin joking, relax,"

"Just..." He leaned back and grabbed a blanket to swaddle you in it, "No more drinking, no more feelings for tonight. You need to sleep, and I've got all the time in the world to watch over you."

"It sounds creepy when you put it that way," you pouted.

"I'm not gonna-" He rolled his eyes and tucked you in, "Just let me know if you need anything. We don't really need sleep with the 'eternal slumber' bullshit, ya know?"

---

I don't know how to end this lmao, I hope you enjoyyyyyyed :3

[hopelesshawks]

History of Us Part 3- Introductions

Summary: Once upon a time Todoroki and (y/n) were best friends. Now they haven’t spoken in years. When (y/n) is forced to transfer to UA, will she and Shoto reconnect or will their troubled past keep them apart? A childhood friends to enemies to lovers hybrid fic.

If you don’t want to see History of Us content blacklist #hopelesshou

Masterlist Kofi

You trudge downstairs already dreading meeting new people. Aizawa had assured you your last name would be kept under wraps but it still feels like it’s only a matter of time before everyone figures out who you really are. There’s a reason you dye your hair, your natural coloring is too recognizable and it’s a bitter reminder of a man you actively wish to forget. For years you hated looking in the mirror until you finally convinced your mom to let you dye it. Kirishima had been kind even after finding out but Kirishima is kind to everyone. You seriously doubt everyone is as much of a cinnamon roll as he is, especially if he-who-shall-not-be-named recognizes you and blabs to everyone like the little bitch he is.

As you walk into the lounge area it’s just your luck that you spot him first. It’s like a hit to the chest, physically stopping you in your tracks. Suddenly you’re that sobbing, confused eight year old all over again, just wanting to understand how her best friend in the whole wide world could turn his back on her when she needed him most. Kirishima calling your name snaps you out of it as you roll your eyes and make your way over. If Shoto doesn’t recognize you then fine, you’re not about to give him the satisfaction of knowing it’s upsetting you. You drop onto the couch unceremoniously in the small space between Kirishima and Bakugo, causing the blonde to shoot you a glare and huff as he and Kiri are forced to adjust themselves to make space for you. You give him a satisfied grin once you’re comfortable, which only causes his scowl to deepen more, before suddenly multiple unfamiliar faces are hovering right in your field of vision.

“Have none of you fucking heard of personal space?” you snap instinctively, feeling closed in. They seem unperturbed by your temper, instead a boy with long black hair and a wide toothy grin comments “You really are like Bakugo!” “Don’t compare me to that angry Pomeranian,” you scoff. “Hah!? The fuck you just call me half and half?” Bakugo immediately retorts, crimson eyes glaring you down as his palms spark in warning. “I called you an angry Pomeranian. You deaf or something? That why you fucking yell all the time?” you fire back as black shadows start to curl off your right hand like smoke. “You little-“ Bakugo starts to threaten, looking like he’s seconds away from launching into you and starting a proper fight, but both of you are distracted by the delighted laughter of the others. “I love you already! Name’s Mina Ashido,” the pink girl, Mina apparently, introduces herself. “Glad we’ve finally got someone who can keep Bakugo in check. I’m Kyoka Jiro,” another girl introduces. Your mind whirs as you process more and more new names. Denki Kaminari is the other blonde. The boy with the long black hair is apparently Hanta Sero. All of them introduce themselves with both their first and last names. You will not be following suit. “I’m (y/n),” you reply simply. “No surname?” the eager blonde, Denki you remind yourself, asks with a tilt of his head. The gesture reminds you of an overexcited puppy. “Nope,” is your simple reply. “Why not?” he presses. “Because I said so,” you shoot back, raising one eyebrow. To your surprise he immediately drops the subject and moves on. “So why’d you transfer?” he asks. “Moved too far from my old school,” is your quick reply. “How d’you know Kiri?” “Fatgum’s agency.” “What’s your quirk?” “Jesus Denki it’s not an interrogation. Let the girl breathe,” Sero cuts him off with a laugh, shoving Denki to the side a bit so that Sero becomes front and center in your line of vision. He openly gives you an appraising look from head to toe before saying “Don’t mind him he’s a little nosy. The better question is: are you single?” You can’t help but bark out a startled laugh at the boldness of the question. “Your laugh, while beautiful, is not an answer,” he grins. “God you guys are the worst,” Jiro groans with a roll of her eyes, “you don’t have to answer that.” “Thanks,” you laugh before turning back to Sero to say “but for the record I am single,” with a wink. Your laugh turns into a full on cackle at the way his face goes bright red. “Don’t tell me you can dish it and not take it,” you tease him. “Oh he definitely can’t take it,” Mina giggles before launching into a story to prove her point, much to Sero’s chagrin. A small part of you starts to hope that maybe this year won’t be so bad.

The sound of your laughter draws Shoto’s eyes to you. It’s such a stark contrast between how you’d looked when he last saw you. Guilt crawls up his throat like bile, leaving an acrid taste in his mouth. You’re different from when the two of you were little. Harsher. More acerbic. He’s not entirely surprised but it still saddens him. He wonders if things would’ve been different had he ignored his father’s warnings about you. He wants to ignore his father’s warning now. He wants to march right up to you and apologize for everything, lay himself out bare to prove to you he never wanted to abandon you, but something holds him back. He thinks it might be cowardice. God, how would he even begin to apologize? You were having such a bad time you moved to an entirely different prefecture and he did nothing. Of course you hate him.

Shoto is brought out of his musings by Midoriya nudging him, a questioning look in his green eyes. Midoriya would know how to right the wrongs of the past. Or at the very least would probably be able to give him some ideas. But to fully explain what had happened he’d also have to explain your father and reveal your identity. Judging by the fact your last name wasn’t even given on the list of students Aizawa gave Iida, you must be trying very hard to keep that information confidential. It’s really not his place to share and he’s hurt you quite enough already. Maybe he can talk around it a little bit though. “Midoriya, hypothetically, if you had hurt someone greatly many years ago and now had no idea how to start apologizing. What would you do?” Shoto finally asks after thinking carefully over how to phrase his question. “Hypothetically?” Midoriya asks skeptically. “Yes. Hypothetically,” Todoroki confirms. “Well I guess it depends how bad what I did was,” Midoriya hedges. “It was bad,” Shoto replies immediately, face darkening at the admission. “In this completely hypothetical scenario,” Midoriya replies with a knowing smile. “Yes exactly,” Todoroki says as he clears his throat. “Well I guess I’d start by just doing little things to show I’m sorry until we were both ready to talk and I could apologize properly,” Midoriya offers. Shoto nods thoughtfully as he mulls over Izuku’s words. Small things. He could do small things. “Hey, Todoroki-kun?” Midoriya prompts causing Shoto to return his attention to his friend. “Whatever you did to (y/n), I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you think. She’ll forgive you eventually,” Midoriya assures him.

A loud boom causes both of them to jump in their seats, eyes seeking out the source only to land on you and Bakugo almost literally at each other’s throats as the two of you tumble over each other, the crowd around you still laughing at whatever had incited the tussle in the first place. Both of you look damn near feral, causing Midoriya to gulp. “Probably,” he amends, “she’ll probably forgive you eventually.” Todoroki nods almost solemnly. You may just kill him before he gets a chance to apologize. That doesn’t mean he can’t at least try though.

A/N: Am I back to daily updates on a fic again?? Maybe??? We’ll see lmao. It was fun to write more of the class and their dynamics but omg there’s so goddamn many students in class 1A idk how Horikoshi keeps up with them all 😩 also M*neta got kicked out for sexual harassment in this version of events, I refuse to write that little nightmare lol

Taglist: @sorrythatspussynal @miss-bakugo-writes @pixelwisp @larkspyrr @sokkaandzukosimp @akkaso

[elmaxlys]

21 QUESTIONS FOR JUOKA, LETS GO! 3 4 5 6 11 12, also 20 because I am acutally curious ! (i shall ask the other ones in another question)

ALRIGHT THEN HELL YEAH 👀👀👀

3) What is your favorite AU/prompt idea/trope for your pairing?

Fav trope is obviously enemies to lovers because come on XD

But favorite AU, oh boy. I have so many of them how do I choose... But probably any canon divergence AU in which Juo survives - be it against his will (as in Yuri got close enough and grabbed him by force) or because his “don’t want to die”-ness was strong enough to overshadow his convictions and he took her hand. The infamous Redemption Arc AU that lives in my brain and I haven’t written one line for because I have too many versions of the same thing lmao i just really like that AU

HOWEVER I can’t not mention the Juo’s Apostle AU here. I rarely ever talk about it but damn... Rika as Juo’s Apostle... I don’t even have any definite or real idea for this AU other than “wow. that’d be dope” but jesus christ the simple idea of it puts sparkles in my eyes

4) Do you prefer canon ideas or do you have your own headcanons for them?

I’m gonna go with canon, here. Miura’s characters are pretty solid yet, in Juo’s case, vague enough to allow hc to fit in without disrupting canon. And their storyline is why I ship them so much in the first place. Also they both incredibly stick to character all along and that’s very hot of Miura to stay consistant in depiction. We say “Thank you Miura”

5) Favorite canon moment of them?

*inhales* YOU ASKED *talks about the Juo arc for so long you’ve stopped reading after the first few paragraphs but it goes on for 50 pages*

I’m only half kidding, because my fav canon moment of them is every single of their interactions and I could go on so long... They’re constantly trying to outsmart the other, to try to manipulate the other into lowering guard, but they’re so evenly matched both in terms of brains and in terms of raw power that they just can’t and they’re stuck and jfc the tension, the undressing, the shameless flirting. The entire phone conversation. 

Tho if I really have to chose, it’d be either “If I have a demand, it’s you” or both of the “I surrender please don’t kill me”. 

6) Least favorite canon moment of them?

It’s kind of fucked up on my part but I love the ugly parts of their relationships. That’s what it’s like to ship enemies. I can’t answers the threats, the manipulations or the murder attempts because that’s what their interactions are made of and that’s what I like. For the first seconds they saw each other they already went the full “hey let me just point a gun at your face while you manipulate me into not killing you despite how much I really should do exactly that”. I saw that and went “nice 👀” 

11) If they aren’t a canon pairing, how would you get them together?

OKAY SO. HEAR ME OUT.

The mask proposal and then boom- careful it gets long

It’d go approximately like this: canon divergent of course but: Juo manages to stop Okihara from destroying the mask or kills Okihara so he doesn’t use the mask he kept for Rika. Then they get on the helicopter and Juo gets the code before allowing Rikuya from seeing it. Having seen the code, Juo is strong enough to resist the Administrator who took Rikuya’s body (then if okihara isn’t dead yet, Admin kills him because heh). Then either Juo pushes him off either Yuri just shows up for their fight and takes them elsewhere. We now have 2 almost full gods + one complete devil. Yuri fights the Admin, defeats him and becomes the new Admin, leaving our final two god candidates to the last level (that we actually don’t know of. how fucked up is that)

So. Judges VS Juo. Juo is like “whatever I only wanted the code because it sounded fun you can be God if you want” and the Judges are like. Bitch we went through all this just for that? And Juo’s like *shrug emoji* “I wanted to test something tho” *takes out his mask* “I want a proper fight with Rika-kun” and Rika is like dude seriously? i sorted my intensities, I’m as strong as the mfing Judge here why would you want to make me wear a mask to then fight me and Juo really doesn’t care because come on that’d be so fun. and they do fight. Rika becomes a 2nd Juo and Juo is having fun. But they’re of equal power. Juo has some vague thoughts of “ah I don’t want to die” like every time but then he realizes that it’s the last fun thing he could do. he’s so powerful no fight will ever have flavor again, you know?

Fighting Rika was his goal and he accomplished it, he didn’t get him to beg but he’s fulfilled but also really really empty now that it’s over so they’re both like huh. I can’t kill you you can’t kill me what up with that and Rika refuses to give up because hey his family, man. So Juo. Man Juo would tell Rika to kill him. No irony, no fake smile, just a tired but honest one, if a little sad, and Rika lowers his hammer like. No. I won’t give you the satisfaction of having me kill you. You were right from the beginning, I won’t kill an unarmed human that’s not resisting. And Juo is like “dude there can’t be two Juos anyway that’s against the rules” and rika is like “that was your idea in the first place wtf” and yuri is like “i make the rules” and, just like she was so ready to give him a second third chance in canon when she jumped to save him, she fully recognizes both Juos as one (like the Judges, you know?) and Juo is like okay yeah I was wrong, that’s nice. And he has an excuse to hold onto Rika because none of them can stand straight on his own

Bam, they’re married by the Admin power and they work through their issues together and Rika slowly accepts his title as Juo - which would be a metaphor of accepting the actual Juo - and they become real close and none of them really confesses they just. you know. are together. It’s smooth, they move in nebulous waters when it comes to their relationship. they don’t have an anniversary etc. But yeah, they’re together

12) If you had to take them and plunk them into another fandom, what fandom would that be? Why?

I’ve only watched the first season but probably the Walking Dead. It’s gore, it’s violent, it’s post-apocalyptic - it suits them.

20) What made you decide to ship them?

I actually have no idea sskksk I think I’ve shipped them for approximately as long as they’ve been seen interacting so I can’t remember exactly but it probably was a mix of the following elements:

“I’ve been thinking about you all this time”

man, the sexual tension in this room o_O

man, they’re both hot, they’d look well together and also I’m crushing hard on both of them so, you know,,,

“If I have a demand it’s you”

“I’m glad to see you, Rika-kun”

everything about Juo

his every line

how alike they are

shipping my faves together because why the hell not  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

oh.

oH.

OH.

UTAREN VIBES HOLY SHIT (was my ultimate otp at the time etc but that probably was on a less conscious level than the one i’m writing here because I’m a dumb idiot that only realized the similarities recently)

I just really like the bad boy x good person trope, okay? even more than the actual enemies to lovers (that I enjoy a lot)

all of that buried under the stupid guilt of “yo hey why would I ship them that’s so messed up haha,, ha :’)))” that made me deny to myself that I shipped them for a loooong time 

[balmasedas]

THE TRUTH.

(SHAWN MENDES).

WARNINGS: ANGST, SWEARING.

WORD COUNT: 2,5K.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Haven't written for a while so it may be shitty. This is my first imagine here, so I hope you enjoy it! Please make me know if you do so, maybe I'll make a part 2. :')

○○○

Thank god for makeup and alcohol. People like you needed it. Well, people in your situation, you deduced, cause it wasn't part of your nature to get extremely drunk. A radical change of plans, a sudden turn in the oceanic currents —you were sure many could relate.

But, then again, how many were secretly dating a superstar? And how many had to bear their lovers being publicly, and falsely, in another relationship? A better question was: How many of them could get through it? You had done it for over almost a year now. Six months of being silent —no, muted. You were a shadow, a secret.

You had done everything you could. When Shawn had asked if it was ok, you had nodded. You knew that success was part of his dream, and if a little white lie could contribute to that, then... whatever, right? After all you hadn't gone public and it was supposed to be only for a while. Two months top.

But two months turned into three. Your pleasent smiles turned into frowns. Silence turned into screams and discussions with him that drained you completely of energy. "I'm your girlfriend.", "I'm your boyfriend and you should support me.", and yada, yada, yada.

Then Shawn wasn't living with you anymore. He was on tour and you would've been fine with it if you hadn't went through tons of pictures of him passionately kissing Camila, walking hand-to-hand literally everywhere. And you started to wonder if they were even pretending anymore.

Apparently not.

Your first therapy was to dance to music in the apartment that you shared and pretend to not worry about it, but his scent was everywhere. Memories were too hunting, thoughts were too loud and your cries were unstoppable.

A club was the second obvious choice, you decided that night.

The first half of it you were with your friends, and yet you still felt utterly lonely.

The second part, you drank it all, and you felt carelessly free. Everyone was beautiful, everyone was your friend. The lights were pretty, the music was great and you were fucking ecstatic. No Shawn Mendes.

"Two Marg–marga shit ass." you laughed at your own word game. The bartender knew you should call it a night but who was he to deny you more poison? You recieved the drink and struggled to catch the straw with your tongue.

"Here." a hand appeared from your left and helped you take the straw with your mouth. You drank a bit and looked who was the misterious assistent: A guy. He looked older than you, thought the lights and your drunkness forbid you of guessing his age with more precision. You could, though, see his mocking and handsome smile. "You're a mess."

You smirked. "I'm single." Yes, shamelessly flirt, go fuck him and make Shawn pay.

"You are?" Unfortunately, you weren't that drunk. And you went from happy drunk to sad drunk.

"No. I'm not–tsk." you pouted. "I have a boyfriend." your forehead wrinkled "I think."

"What do you mean?"

"He's a celebrity and that shit. Shawn Mendezzz? You know him?" The name rang a bell, apparently. More than it, because the man's posture completely shifted.

"Yeah." he nodded. "And don't get me wrong, you're beautiful, but you aren't his girlfriend. Unlless you're Camila Cabello." that sparked anger inside of you.

"Of courrrrrse not, shtupid!" you poked his chest. Then you proceeded to clumsily reach inside your dress, between your breasts, and took out your phone. The device read your fingerprint and you shoved it in his face. "Look!" you weren't anymore aware of what you were really doing. You just smiled proudly at the photo of you and Shawn kissing in front of a beach sunset. It was your favorite picture. One of the last ones you had taken months ago, when both of you were still happy. "Yeah, Carmela Cabitch is only a– a promo! She's fake and shit!" you went to your inbox and looked for Shawn's chat. "Here! lmao! See?" You showed him his messages, where you talked of the PR stunt, of how he promised it would all be over soon. You were too busy laughing hysterically to notice this guy taking his phone out. "I'm a fucking no one so!" you shrugged, happily. As if you had no choice. He laughed with you and asked for a round of something, that you didn't hear, but when the glass of alcohol was set in front of you, you welcomed it.

He raised his cup towards you, "Cheers for... the truth. May everyone hear it soon."

You giggled and cheered with him. "Whatever dude." you emptied your glass. And you kept drinking and drinking. The man was with you for the rest of the night. He was fun, actually. You had fun.

So much fun that you let him keep your phone until you said goodbye.

○○○

There was a buzz. An annoying and incesant buzz. You had heard it too many times for not being able to recognize it as your own phone but you were too tired to do something about it. Your face was buried in the pillow, you were spread like a starfish on the bed with one leg hanging over the side. Too comfy to move.

You groaned when you had to stretch your arm and reject the person who was calling you non-stop. You thought you had found peace for your headache finally, but the phone started vibrating again. And you were fucking done. Your reached for it and squinted your eyes for the sudden light in your eyes. You thought your sleepy state had fooled you at first and made you see things that weren't there but a few blinks confirmed what was right in front you.

Over 5K twitter notifications.

Over 1K on Instagram.

Hundreds of messages.

Dozens of missed calls from Shawn, your best friend, your mom.

You quickly sat up. You brushed the hair out of your face. You suddenly felt sick and it wasn't because of the hangover. You had a bad feeling cause that didn't happen unless something was really, really wrong.

You went to your messages. Your mom was asking if you were okay, she was worried, "it's not your fault" she stated. Your bestfriend had texted "hmu as soon as you read this.". She had also called you a few times. Then your dad and last, but not least, Shawn. You were extremely anxious. His calls and messages were the most, and he was the one you'd rejected a few minutes ago. If something was wrong, it had too do with him:

"Y/N."

"Y/N pick up."

"R u ok?"

"How could you do this?"

"You fucked up. You fucked us all up."

"Jesus Christ, pick up!"

"What the fuck?" You murmured. Your hand went from your stomach to your mouth. You opened twitter, cause everytime something happened it was there first. 'Shawn Mendes' was trending, 'Camila' too, your fucking name was trending third and in 5th place was the word 'PR'.

You immediatly knew what it was, but how?

You started reading the tweets involving your boyfriend.

"I knew Shawmila was PR!!!1 I called it first but lol, how could Shawn's gf sell him like that. Yikes"

"Y/N was clearly jealous but how can you fucking expose your boyfriend?????? like????? You agreed to it, didn't you?"

"I know it was fake, but Shawn was better with Camila than a snake like Y/N. #Facts"

And the tweets got worst and worst, but not a million of them could prepare you to see your pictures all over twitter. Your photos kissing Shawn, him with your family. The screenshots of your texts. His and your intimacy violated by the world. The insults did nothing in comparision of the pain you felt then.

In the middle of desperation, you started wondering what did you do wrong, if anything could compromise your privacy the night before and suddenly everything came back: The man. The man stole your shit straight from your phone. You were so stupid, so drunk you didn't noticed.

Your hand went from your core to your face. You sprinted to the bathroom and emptied everything from your stomach on the toilet.

You were there for a few minutes, lying on the floor, crying, to weak to get up. Your phone started buzzing again, and you were ready to ignore it again when you remembered: "Shawn." you got up so fast you almost tripped. You put on a hoodie and pants over your pijama, went to the living room and dialed Shawn's number. You had to talk to him. You needed to explain yourself desperately.

"Please, pick up, pick up, pick up." you mumbled while searching your shoes. Suddenly, a ringing echoed in your apartment. And not any ringing, Shawn's. It was Shawn's tone for your calls.

You turned your head and there he was: Coming out of the kitchen with a glass of water. You would've jumped to his arms, it would've been normal if it wasn't for his face. You've never seen like that. You wish you never did.

"Shawn I–" you started but he stopped you midsentence.

"Had to take a flight all the way from Japan just to be here." he offered you the water and you drank it, with the pill that luckily would help with the headache. He observed you in silence. You felt little under his eyes, painfully ashamed of what was happening. You couldn't stop the tears from flowing again and sobbing with the glass still in your mouth. "Don't, please. You'll choke."

He gently took the glass away from you and you covered your face.

"I'm so sorry. I–I–"

"You what? Y/N" any hopes of discussing with calmness dissapeared when he raised his voice. You couldn't hold in your sadness and he couldn't hide hise anger. "Do you know what this means?! For all of us?!" you crossed your arms over your stomach.

"I saw it."

"You saw it? They're destroying you. Look." Shawn turned the TV on and did a quick zapping over most of the news channel. Half of them focused on Shawn and Camila's stunt, half of them focused on you. You tensed your jaw and looked at an empty point on the floor. Shawn said something else, but you couldn't focuse on his words as you recalled what started it all.

"How much more can I be destroyed?" you whispered. Shawn turned the TV off and looked at you, somewhere between concerned and taken aback.

"What?"

"Yeah, you heard well. What's a bit more of pain? I mean, everybody is hating me but at least they know who I am, right?" Shawn scrubbed his face and you could practically see the words inside his mind: Not again. But weren't you telling the truth? You wouldn't be in that situation if it wasn't for the contract extending that long. If Shawn had the decency to not push you to a side, you wouldn't have gotten drunk and the secret wouldn't be out.

"We already went through this!"

"No we didn't!" you screamed. Shawn stared at you speechless "We didn't talk it out! You just avoided it, and avoided it until I wasn't part of the picture anymore." At this point your face was drenched in tears. The sobs were painful but, at the same time, you felt free. You had contain your anguish for too long.

"You know I had no choice!"

"Yes you did!" you poked his chest with anger "You had the choice of calling me, of reaching out to me! You were travelling the world with Camila and I suddenly didn't existed. The contract said you had to pretend to be with her, not stop loving me."

"I never stopped loving you, what the hell are you talking about? I kept in touch with you."

You laughed. For the first time you laughed, but it wasn't filled with joy. You were frustrated, furious. You advanced a few steps and stood before him, chest to chest.

"You bet?" you asked low "Pick up your phone, Shawn." no movement. "Pick up you god damn phone. You'll find my fucking texts, my fucking calls and only fucking me caring for us."

"I forgot to call you a few times. That. Was. It."

"That was it." you repeat, nodding with your head, as you finally understand. "Then this is it."

Shawn blinked a few times.

"What?" he mumbled. Your eyes got teary, his too. You don't have to watch it anymore as you strode to your bedroom.

You grabbed a suitcase from your closet and started throwing some clothes in it. Shawn called your name a few times and stopped at that door.

"What are you doing?" he asked. You knew his tones enough to guess that he's scared.

"Going to my mom's. We're done." you laughed and corrected yourself "I'm done."

"What? No, no, no. This isn't over. If anything I should be the one quitting, you fucked this all by selling me." you turned abruptly, but your voice wasn't strong or determined. If it was even possible, something else shattered inside of you. You knew he was affected by happened, but never did you imagined that he'd believe what they were saying.

"You really think I am capable of hurting you on purpose?" you choked out a sob. Tears started falling again.

What he didn't said was enough. You slowly nodded.

"Y/N" he murmured, when you grabbed the suitcase and passed beside him. You walked to the door and his voice, again, this time did stop you. "Y/N, stay. Let's talk. Please."

You vaguely dried the tears on your face with your hand and turned around. It took all of your strength to look at him.and talk: "I was drunk. Was it my fault? Maybe. I don't know. Maybe I should've not drown myself in alcohol. But there were two people in this relationship. I tried to talk to you and you just didn't listen. You just didn't—" Shawn was crying now. His jaw was locked, his hands tugging tightly his hair. You wished you could erase that image from your head.

"Please, Y/N. Shit! I'm so sorry. We can work this out. I believe you, baby, but don't go. I beg."

You smiled with a certain nostalgia. Your memories were holding you in, hope had it's role too. But was there really hope for you both? If he really loved you, you both wouldn't be standing there. If he really loved you, he would've taken five minutes of his day to talk to you. Your heart was aching, and you've had enough. It was the fact that he evidently didn't love you that made you took a step out.

You slowly closed the door, but not before hearing his now-loud cries. "Goodbye, Shawn."

[langdvnshepherd]

Good For You ~ Part 4 (Duncan Shepherd x fem!reader)

PART ONE ~ PART TWO ~ PART THREE

Summary: You’re a broke ass college student whose one night stand with the infamous Duncan Shepherd leads to the development of a rather interesting relationship between the two of you. — Duncan puts you in an uncomfortable situation that leaves you torn between confessing your truth or walking away from it all.

Word Count: 9.8k (I’m sooo sorry omg)

Warnings: sugar daddy!Duncan, fem!reader, angst, smut, fingering, oral (female receiving), daddy kink

A/N: Sorry it took so long, but here it is! The final chapter (blowing nose emoji). It’s long as hell so I’m kinda sorry about that, but I just had a lot I wanted to include! Also even though it’s deadass like a novel, I still feel like I kinda rushed it?? idk lmk your thoughts I guess. I’ve loved writing this series and I’m sad to see it go, but it’s definitely time to move on lmao. I want to give another shoutout to @avesatanormalpeoplescareme for the inspiration for this chapter you truly saved my life again! Also to @belusima (she doesn’t know it but I left her a lil surprise in here hehehe). I barely proofread this and wrote most of it literally at 5 o’clock this morning so if you notice any major mistakes pls don’t roast me. Thank you all so much for the notes and kind words regarding this fic and my other work! I truly appreciate it from the bottom of my heart. (gif credit to m-langdon666)

     Three aggressively persistent knocks on your door sent you jolting out of bed one morning. It was early, at least to you. Maybe your roommate stayed out last night and was finally coming home, but other than that you had no idea who could possibly need your attention at this hour. Rising from your bed with a loud yawn and stretch, you reluctantly made your way out of bed and towards the door of your tiny apartment. You must not have been moving fast enough for their liking, because three more rattles on the cracked paint of your front door echoed throughout the apartment not long after the first.

     “I’m coming! Jesus,” you muttered, picking up your pace and swiftly running to the door. As you passed the mirror in your hallway, you catch a glimpse of your current state: hair knotted from tossing side to side on your pillow, eyelids puffy from sleep, nipples peaking through the thin fabric of your thin, ratty university t-shirt in the cool air of your apartment. Definitely not presentable by any means, but whoever was beating on your door at this ungodly hour needs your attention and they need it now.

     Fully expecting to see your roommate on the other side, you unlatched the chain lock and forcefully flung the door open. She was really in for it thinking she could stay out all night and come home whenever she pleased, waking up the entire building as she did. Ready to lecture her about leaving her keys at home and the danger she puts herself in by partying through the morning at frat houses, you were instead greeted by a different set of eyes. 

     “Duncan?”

     The morning sun pierced through the shade of aqua, turning them an almost glacier-blue shade in the light. He had one arm propped against the door frame, the other rubbing against on the scruff on his neck. Clad head to toe in the most expensive black coat and pants money could buy, he looked so obscure standing in the doorway of your tiny, run-down apartment building. But nonetheless, he looked perfect. Upon hearing your voice, he perked up instantly and the word vomit began.

     “Y/N. Is this a good time?” The way his leg was anxiously twitching made you think his question was more of a courtesy, and that he was coming in whether you responded or not. 

     “Uhh,” looking down at your bare feet and legs, you crossed your arms across your chest hoping to mask your horrendous appearance from Duncan as much as possible, “Yeah, come in.” You stepped away from the entrance and he swiftly entered your living room, making sure to shut and lock the door behind him.

     “I’m about to ask you to do something, and I need you to help me out. Okay?” In this moment, both you and Duncan realized he had never been inside of your apartment. He took in the setup before him, recognizing pieces scattered throughout the space that he had purchased for you. An Oscar de la Renta coat hanging on the rack by the door, your Macbook resting open on the side table by the sofa, the high-end coffee maker he’d sent you after casually mentioned your old one had finally bit the bullet. It looked exactly the way he’d pictured it, bits and pieces of luxury scattered amongst the dingy, outdated furniture and appliances.

     “Okayy?” you responded, although it came out as more of a question than an answer. You’d never seen Duncan look so distraught before. He was pacing back and forth like he might explode if he stood in place for too long.

     “I got a phone call this morning,” he began. “Apparently, the lady in charge of our family’s finances saw my bank statement from our little... trip to Paris and got suspicious. She went digging and found everything. For whatever fucking reason, she took it upon herself to alert my mother. Thought maybe my card got stolen or something. Why she thought that was my mother’s business I have no fucking clue. So, I have spent the better half of this morning trying to make sure my mother didn’t have a stroke from how mad she was when she found out." Blood rushed to his face as he babbled on, his neck turning an irritated shade of pink. 

     You stood there, leaning against the arm of the sofa, legs crossed in front of you, still holding your arms in front of your chest. You were trying to process what Duncan had just said, but you were still fairly confused. His mother had found out about you. Did this mean he came here to call it off? Why would she be mad? Duncan is a grown man that can spend his money as he pleases.

     “And sooo what is it that you need me to do exactly?” 

     Duncan took a deep breath before finally turning to face you head on. He had been too apprehensive to look you in the eyes from the minute he walked into your living room. “She backed me into a corner. She kept asking if I’m being blackmailed for money or if I’ve been hiring hookers and I didn’t really know how to explain it to her without it being completely fucking embarrassing so I just told her that I’ve been seeing someone. Then she freaked out. Said she wanted to meet whoever it was. Told me to bring them to the event we’re having this weekend.”

     You cocked your eyebrow at him, still not understanding.

     “Y/N, I wouldn’t be here this early in the morning if it wasn’t important. I need you to go to that event with me...and pretend we’re together. Just for my mother’s sake. We don’t have to stay long, just long enough to say a couple words to her. Prove that you’re real. Then we can go and I’ll never ask you to do something like this ever again. Whatever you want, consider it yours. I just need you to do this. For me.” The pleading look in Duncan’s eyes was almost comical. He was scared of his mother. It was clear at that moment that he cared way too much about what his mother thinks for someone his age. For what reason, you weren’t sure.

     “I...uh...wow, Duncan.” You felt a twinge in your stomach that was hard to explain. Maybe it was just nerves from having all of this sprung on you just moments after waking up, or maybe it was because the thought of pretending to be Duncan Shepherd’s girlfriend for a night was enough to make you hurl. Your feelings about Duncan were becoming harder and harder to ignore since Paris, and you weren’t sure how doing this would make you feel afterward.

     “I’m not sure I can...I don’t know if-”

     “I know. I fucked up. But please don’t make me beg.” It felt like he was staring into your soul. He had never looked this desperate in the entire time you’d known him. You really wanted to be hesitant, to say no. It wasn’t a good idea, it didn’t do anything to help your situation. But who were you kidding, he could have asked anything of you, and you would have come running.

     “Yeah, sure. Whatever. Just tell me what I need to do and I’ll be there.”

     Duncan let out a loud sigh and closed his eyes in relief. “Thank you. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll have someone drop off a dress, just be ready by 7 on Saturday.”

     “Okay,” you replied, unsure of saying anything else.

     “Okay,” he repeated, satisfied with your compliance. “I’ll see you then.” Duncan approached you, taking your elbows in his hands. It was a gentle, gesture of gratitude, but it made your stomach flip.

     “Thank you. Again. I mean it.” He rubbed circles on your arms as he spoke. You looked up to meet his eyes once again, his gaze making your heart rate skyrocket. 

     You nodded in response, casually rolling your shoulders to shake yourself out of Duncan’s grasp. He took this as an opportunity to leave, making his way towards the door as his dress shoes tapped against the vinyl floor. He turned his back to take one last look at you before leaving.

     “See ya,” you called out. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, a slight smile appearing on his face.

     “Bye, Y/N,” he all but whispered as he shut the door behind him and went about his day.

-

     You sat in the limo more or less pondering your entire life, and how you’d ended up in this situation. If you would have told yourself 5 years ago, hell, even a year ago that you’d be in this position, you’d laugh at how insane you sounded. Not only had you accidentally found a sugar daddy, if that’s what you want to call it, but you’d also managed to catch feelings for him. Where he once was nothing more than a business arrangement, he now encompassed nearly your every thought. 

     There was a war going on inside your brain. Part of you wanted things to go back to the way they were when Duncan called on you once a week to fuck and sent you expensive gifts afterward. No strings attached, just fucking. The other part of you wanted clarity, to know how Duncan felt. If you confessed your feelings, would Duncan reciprocate? Could the two of you actually be together? If you weren’t on the same page, would he break it off? Cut you out of his life and leave you a broke, struggling college student? 

     The conversation you had with your roommate just minutes before Duncan arrived in the limo echoed in the back of your mind.

     “You HAVE to tell him how you feel,” she exclaimed, with a little more sass than you were expecting.

     “It’s not that simple!” you argued back. 

     You had finally let her in on everything that had happened with Duncan. The incident with the frat boy, the trip to Paris, that drunken night, the stolen glances, the event you were about to attend and pretend to be his girlfriend for the night. She was convinced Duncan felt the same way you did, but you weren’t sold on the idea.

     “But it is though! Come on, Y/N. What you said makes perfect sense. He likes you. He has to. When all of this shit started, it was strictly business. I remember. But now he’s acting all weird and shit and it just doesn’t add up. He either likes you or he’s been buttering you up to kill you this entire time.”

     “That’s not funny.”

     “Yeah, well, neither are you with your little ‘poor me’ attitude. You should just tell him how you feel. What’s the worst thing that would happen? He doesn’t feel the same, and he breaks it off. I highly doubt you would ever run into him again. Plus, think about what would happen if he liked you too. You wouldn’t have to hide in his apartment or in hotel rooms every night. You could actually spend time with him outside of the pillow talk you have right before you leave. And I mean I know this might be a sensitive subject buuttttt...imagine all of the shit he would buy you if you were actually dating. I mean we’re probably talki-”

     “Okay, that’s enough. Thanks. I get it.” Her rambling made you feel ill. Maybe she had a point. For something that started out so harmless, it was now eating you alive. “I just don’t see it ever working out. I’m a college student who barely has her shit together and he’s apparently a member of the most influential fucking family in America besides the goddamn president. We don’t go together,” you babbled, emphasizing your points with elaborate hand gestures.

     “Tell you what,” your roommate started, “This...event? Is it?” You gave her a confirming nod from your place at the end of your bed. “Okay, so if you’re pretending to be Duncan’s girlfriend tonight, why don’t you just multitask and figure out whether or not you’d even want to be with him? You’ll be out with him in public, where everyone can see. You’re getting to meet his mother. It’ll be like you’re actually together. If it goes well and you could see yourself doing something like this again, you should tell him how you feel. If you hate it, you should break it off. You shouldn’t let a man take up this much of your time if he’s making you feel like this.”

     Damn, why was she always right?

     A gentle squeeze on your kneecap drew you from your thoughts. You looked up to see Duncan staring at you from his side of the limo with concern washed over his features.

     “You okay?” he asked. “You’re looking a little spaced out.”

     “Yeah,” you enthusiastically nodded, hoping to put up a persuasive front and not let Duncan know the internal chaos going on in your body. “Just a little nervous.”

     “Me too. It shouldn’t be that bad though. Don’t worry about it too much. I’ll try to do most of the talking. My mother will probably ask you what you do or what your thoughts are about the wine selection. Whatever you do, just try not to mention the...nature of our relationship.” 

     And what exactly is the nature of our relationship? you thought to yourself.

     You absentmindedly picked at the beading on your gown as the limo ascended the winding, cobblestone driveway of the venue. It was a country club of some sorts, so you were dressed to the nines. The dress Duncan had picked out for you was modest enough to meet his mother in, yet showed off just enough skin to still make you feel sexy. 

    Duncan seemed to think so too, given that his eyes nearly fell out of his head when he picked you up at your apartment building. He knew he had good taste, but he was always taken back by how beautiful you looked.

     As the limo came to a halt, Duncan was the first out. He quickly straightened out his suit and made his way over to your side of the car, opening the door for you like the gentleman he was.

      “Ready?” he questioned, placing both of his hands on your shoulders to smooth out the creases in your gown from the ride over. It was a gentle and soothing gesture that made your heart beat in your ears.

      You looked him up and down one last time before looping your arm around his. He looked perfect, as always. Dressed in all black, and not a hair on his curly head out of place. It was styled differently this time, quaffed back instead of resting to the side. His scruff had been cleaned up around the edges, meaning he was really trying to make an impression on his mother with you by his side.

      “Ready.”

      You joined Duncan at the elbow and waltzed into the french doors of one of the largest country clubs you’ve ever seen, unsure of where the night would lead you.

-

     The ballroom of the country club must have been bigger than your entire childhood home. The ceilings felt like they were 50 feet high, and there was a waiter stationed at least every 10 steps to cater to your every need. Duncan escorted you straight to the bar, claiming that you both needed at least one drink before doing anything or speaking to anyone.

     He was nervous like you, and you could tell, but of course, he had different reasons. It was clear by the way he acted in your apartment that he cared a great deal what his mother thought of him, and impressing her was on the top of his list. Maybe she’d have his ass for spending so much money on a young girl such as yourself, but you still couldn’t wrap your head around it as to how that could be. You’d settled on the idea that perhaps he just had a close relationship with his mother, and that he’d do anything to stay in her good graces.

     As you nursed the cocktail Duncan had ordered for you (Which was fucking incredible by way. Why was he so good at everything?), your eyes wandered around the spacious room. There had to have been at least 200 people in the room, and more than a handful of them were familiar faces. You’d read about them, learned about them in class. They were infamous lobbyists, members of Congress, even a member of the Presidental Cabinet you’d managed to pick out amongst the crowd. This was his circle, the big dogs he ran with. You began to feel extremely overwhelmed and claustrophobic, the energy of the room becoming overbearing. How could you ever be with Duncan when this is what he did for a living?

     Just as you were about to excuse yourself to the bathroom for a proper panic session, Duncan’s grip on your arm tightened exponentially. Turning to him to see what was wrong, you noticed a small-framed, brunette woman making her way towards you with an ear-to-ear grin plastered on her face.

     “Well, well, well. Look who decided to finally show up!” The woman took both sides of Duncan’s face in her hands and pressed short, brief kisses on each of his cheeks. You weren’t sure who she was, but you had the inkling this was the woman of the hour. The one you’d been waiting to meet. Although she didn’t resemble Duncan in the slightest, the way Duncan’s jaw was tightened and the short breaths he was taking made you certain that she was an important figure.

     “Hi, mom,” the words slipped past his lips, almost in a mumble.

     “I was beginning to think I’d never find you in this place! You know I really like this venue, I think we should keep it in-“ by this time she was rambling about things beyond your grasp of knowledge. Something about the app you’d heard Duncan mention plenty of times before but could never wrap your head around, something about crowd-funding and one specific congressman you’d heard about from a tax-evasion scandal on tv. It sent you further into your spiral of anxiety. It must have been pretty obvious, because Duncan then unthreaded his arm from yours and moved it to rest on your hip, pulling you closer towards him to steady your shaking. He ran his hand up and down your side against the embellished fabric, it was calming to you but it was more for himself at that moment. He was nodding at every word that left his mother’s mouth, even though he could barely focus on her words himself.

     “-anyways. Enough of all of that. Were you going to introduce me or were you just gonna let her stand there all night with her hip glued to yours?”

     Your stomach dropped as you peered up at the woman. She was looking you up and down, taking in your form. You checked yourself one more time, making sure you hadn’t spilled something on your elaborate gown or had lipstick in your teeth. This was it. Time to put on a show.

     “Mom, this is Y/N.” Duncan’s features softened slightly as the mention of your name, a smile ghosting over his lips. He continued to run his hands up and down your side as he introduced you, a crutch for both you and him.

     “It’s lovely to meet you, Miss Y/N. I hope you’re finding this evening to be worth your while. We put a lot of work into this event, so I hope everyone has a good time.” She extended her hand to you, and you reciprocated, giving her a firm shake.

     “This place is incredible, Ms. Shepherd. Thank you so much for inviting me,” you stated in the most uppity voice you could manage. A beauty pageant smile adorned your face, sure to fool anyone.

     “Oh please, call me Annette!” She placed her hand over heart in exclamation.

     “Well, it’s great to finally meet you, Annette.” Duncan watched the two of you interact intently, ready to interject at the split second something could go wrong.

     “Duncan’s not told me much about you. What you do? Where are you from? Tell me all about yourself! You’ve got to be some kind of special if Duncan’s spending more money on you than he is on himself.”

     She wasn’t nearly as intimidating as you’d imagined. Sure, you were nervous as hell that she’d ask you a personal question about Duncan you didn’t know the answer to, and you were nervous about the decision you’d have to make by the end of the night (to confront him about your feelings or walk away from it all), but there was nothing about this woman that was particularly menacing.

     You cut your eyes to Duncan before parting your lips to speak. He gave your side a quick squeeze, letting you know you were going to be fine.

     “I, umm...I’m a student at Georgetown. I grew up kinda far away from here actually. I don’t have any family here or anything-“

     “That’s actually how we met, isn’t it, Y/N? At Georgetown? That symposium about higher education and research?” The cock of his eyebrow pleading for you to catch the hint.

     “Yeah, it was,” you shot him another glance and a toothy smile, slowly becoming more comfortable in Annette’s presence thanks to Duncan.

     “Aren’t you two just the cutest!?” Annette professed. “If I remember correctly, that symposium was forever ago. How come I’m only just now finding out about you?”

     Both you and Duncan swallowed the lump in your throat. You racked your brain for an excuse, anything to get her off this line of questioning. Thank god for Duncan’s smooth tongue, because you were at a loss for words.

     “We’ve just been taking it slow. Didn’t want to rush anything. We’re both pretty busy so we just haven’t really had the time to take any extra steps.” He spoke so calmly as if he’d been practicing how he would answer this exact question. He was her son, after all, surely he was aware of the kinds of things she’d be asking about.

     “Well, I hope you can make it out to another event soon. I think there’s a gala in the works for next month. Or maybe you can convince Duncan to come back to his mother’s house and we can have a proper get-together over a nice dinner. He never comes to see me outside of work anymore. I’m sure you’re busy with school, but I’d love to see more of you,” Annette gave an earnest smile to the two of you.

     “Of course, I’d love that,” you flashed your pearly whites at Annette and looked up one more time at Duncan. His face had completely softened when looking into your eyes. You caught a flicker of a spark behind his ocean blue’s, unsure of what it meant.

     “If you guys don’t mind, I actually just spotted one of the potential top donors for tonight. I’m gonna squeeze on by and say hello before he gets too drunk and has to be escorted out,” Annette tensed up in amusement and disappeared in the masses.

     Duncan exhaled audibly as soon as she went out of his line of vision. He turned to face you, now resting both hands at your hips.

     “Thank you. So much.”

     “No problem. It wasn’t that bad. She’s not nearly as terrifying as you made her out to be,” you said with a few chuckled in between sentences. You really didn’t know why Duncan made her out to be this big, bad, scary monster. She behaved like any other mother would in her situation. She hardly batted an eyelash when you told her you were still in school, and didn’t ask anything that was particularly worrisome. There was nothing out of the ordinary of her in your eyes. As far as you were concerned, she seemed pretty satisfied.  

     “Yeah, well, maybe if she raised you you’d know how hard it is to make her happy. She was either lying her ass off just then, or she was actually impressed. I genuinely don’t think she was lying, didn’t see any of her tell-tale signs, but then again she never fails to surprise me,” a blush covered Duncan’s cheeks and he scratched the back of his neck as he spoke.

     You quietly nodded back at him, unsure of how to respond.

     “Anyways, how about we actually enjoy ourselves now that my mother is under control? I can show you around if you’d like.”

     “Sounds like a wonderful idea.”

-

     How you’d ended up outdoors, propped against the lip of an Olympic-sized, cascading water fountain was beyond you. To your chagrin, Duncan excused himself to talk to one of his business partners, claiming he’d only be a second. Seconds turned to minutes, and by now it must have been about 15 since he’d left your side. You took a couple turns down a never-ending hallway and somehow managed to find the doors leading to the garden. There were topiaries galore, and greenery covering nearly every square inch of the back yard. It was peaceful compared to the medley of booming voices indoors. 

     You took some time to reflect on the night, weighing out the pros and cons of what you were going to do. You hadn’t forgotten the way Duncan had been looking at you all night, it almost resembled the way you look at him. His eyes flutter like he was looking at something precious. The way he always kept one hand on you at all times was not unlost on you either. You wanted to believe it was genuine, but you had convinced yourself it was all part of his act. To sell this fake relationship to his mother and to everyone else in the room. 

     On the other hand, you were actually having a fun night. Duncan had led you throughout the country club, showing you the various rooms whilst talking shit about almost everyone in attendance. When you went back for more drinks, you caught Annette’s eye again. She gave you a cheerful wave and tilted her glass of wine towards you. You’d even introduced yourself to your favorite journalist, gushing over her latest work. 

     Your pondering was cut short when you heard the rustling of bushes not far from where you were resting. You were about to have company or you were about to be brutally murdered by some creep that had been hiding out. 

     When your vision cleared, you realized it was a man. He looked vaguely familiar from far away, maybe he was another famous public figure that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He was dressed in a tuxedo, and his swagger was way too arrogant for your taste. Whoever he was, he was coming your way. You weren’t prepared for what was about to happen next.

     “Y/N? Is that you?” 

     His voice immediately sent shivers down your spine. You knew exactly who this man was. The two of you had a history, and not a good one. A few months before you met Duncan at the hotel bar, you’d had a little rendezvous with him. A couple times actually. Like Duncan, he had coaxed you back to the hotel more than once. You abruptly cut it off after finding out about his backwards, conservative rhetoric. You discovered via the internet that he was everything you despised, and you couldn’t even stand to look him in the eyes. He was a higher up for some media company that had tried to win you over multiple times by bragging about how much money he had. You never accepted a dime apart from the drinks he’d let you run up on his tab. He was repulsive, which you had told him the night you broke it off. It ended in him calling you a gold-digging whore that cared about no one but herself. Definitely not a ladies man to say the least. 

     You weren’t sure how to react, so you stayed put, straightening out the bottom of your gown that had been folded under your legs. Why the fuck was he even here? Of all of the people you could have run into, of course, it had to be him. 

     “Should have known you would have found your way into one of these. Tons of rich guys you can fuck around with and use for your own benefit,” he scoffed, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his coat. He smelled like bourbon, and you could see the drunken blush that covered his entire face even from the faint glow of the water fountain lights.

     “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You kept your eyes glued to your heels, praying for him to walk away or for someone to come to your rescue.

     “Oh come on, Y/N. We both know that’s not true.”

     “You’re just mad that I refused to blow you after I found out your company is one of the top donors to the NRA,” you fired back. “Plus, it’s not like I was missing out on anything special when I called it off.”

     His jaw clenched, clearly infuriated. You realized maybe it wasn’t the best idea to get into it with a grown man that was at least a head taller than you outside, in the dark, where no one could see or hear. When he took another step towards you, you flinched.

     “Listen here, you fucking slut-”

     “Y/N?!”

     You had never been more thankful to hear Duncan’s voice in your entire life. He all but broke out into a sprint trying to reach you. Mumbling a quick, “Thank god,” to yourself, Duncan finally caught up to you.

     “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I was starting to think you ditched me or something,” Duncan said with a hearty chuckle.

     “No fucking way. You’re here with Shepherd?!” the man beside you ragged. Duncan hadn’t paid any attention to him until just then. 

     “Do you two know each other, Y/N?” Duncan looked at you both with raised eyebrows and his lips turned down in disgust.

     “Umm...we-” you started, scrambling to find the right words.

     “We do. Quite well, actually,” said the foul man cut you off. “You better watch your back around her, Dunc. She’s trouble. Only cares about herself. She’s nothing but a gold-digging whore that’ll leave you high and dry after she gets what she needs. I’ve seen her do it, and there’s no doubt in my mind that she’ll do it again.” 

     He jabbed his finger at you aggressively as he spoke, like he intended to shove you back. Before he got any closer, Duncan was immediately in-between the two of you. Duncan’s nostrils flared and his chest was poking out, mere seconds from snapping. 

     "Duncan, can we please just go,” you whispered from behind him.

     Duncan looked over his shoulder at you, giving you a brief head nod. 

     “You should probably get the fuck out of here,” Duncan spat at the man. “Unless you want your face plastered on the cover of every fucking newspaper in D.C., I suggest you never show your face to me ever again. The press loves a juicy story, and I’d be glad to give them one that’ll burn your company to the fucking ground.”

     He gave Duncan one last snarl before stomping off in defeat like a dog with its tail between its legs. When he was gone, Duncan gripped you by the elbow and led you out of the backyard, going around the side of the building instead of through the inside. He was quiet the whole time, and you were scared to know why.

-

     The car ride was silent, for the most part. Duncan revealed he went to the same university as the man from earlier. They were rivals, always going for each other’s throats whenever it was possible. Aside from that, not much else was said. You could tell Duncan was bothered by what happened, but you didn’t know if it was directed at you or the man. He kept rubbing his hands up his cheeks and jaw and had his body turned away from you, leaning on the window. 

     You had to face the music. After everything that just happened, was tonight the best time to confess your feelings? Were you even certain about what you wanted anymore? Sure, Duncan was great, but could you keep up with his lifestyle? The confrontation between you and the media mogul caused you enough anxiety to last a lifetime, and you certainly never wanted to have to do that shit ever again. 

     You’d told yourself the same thing one million times before. He’s a grown man, it would logistically never work out. Especially after this. 

     “Duncan,” you started, ready to shatter your hopes and dreams.

     He turned in your direction, the same, exhausted look on his face.

     “I don’t think this is gonna work out.”

     “What do you mean?” he asked, his facial expression quickly changing to one of confusion.

     “This. Us. All of it. I don’t want to do it anymore,” each word out of your mouth wedged the blade deeper and deeper into your chest.

     Duncan just stared at you, his face unreadable. His chest began to move more rapidly, but he stayed quiet. The silence lasted what felt like an eternity, damn near making you want to jump out of the moving limo.

     “Say something, Duncan. Please,” you pleaded.

     “Guess he was right, huh?” Duncan’s voice was low, like he was trying to steady himself without cracking.

     “What?”

     “That guy. When he said you take what you want and then you leave. You’re doing it right now. Aren’t you? You got what you wanted. The money, the clothes, the trips. You got caught, and now you’re running.”

     You couldn’t do anything but stare at Duncan with your mouth agape. He was really accusing you of being a gold-digger. If he only knew you stopped caring about the money months ago.

     “Are you fucking serious? You don’t actually believe what that piece of shit said, do you? You said it yourself, he’s a narcissistic asshole. He was fucking lying.” You argued, highly offended that Duncan would even say such a thing.

     “Honestly, I don’t know anymore. I can never figure you out. One minute it’s like you couldn’t care less about me, the next you look at me like you want something way more than a fuck. I’m not sure I can handle any more either.”

     There it was. The twist of the knife. It was ironic, really. Under any other circumstances, you might have thought Duncan was confessing his feelings for you. What he had just said was a mirror image of your inner thoughts, how you’ve been feeling about him for months. But the way he said it was so condescending, so hurtful, that you knew that wasn’t the case. He wanted nothing to do with you anymore.

     A stray tear managed to slide down your cheek, which you quickly wiped away with the flick of your finger.

     “Okay then,” you sighed, truly devastated that the man you had grown to care about so deeply thought so poorly of you. “Anything else you wanna add? Any more bullshit you wanna spew before you never hear from me again?”

     Duncan could barely hold eye contact with you. He was just as crushed as you were, only you didn’t know it. He kept his head tilted down, opting for silence.

     “Stop the car, please!” you called to the driver. 

     “Y/N, what are you doing?” Duncan rolled his eyes at you.

     “Going home. I don’t want to be in the car with you anymore.”

     The limo’s brakes screeched as the driver veered off to the sidewalk of the busy street. You gathered the bottom of your heavy gown in your hands and shoved your body out of the vehicle.

     “Y/N, stop being stupid. It’s late, it’s not safe. Let me drop you off, please,” Duncan called from the rolled-down window of the limo.

     “I’ll figure it out, Duncan. I’m not your responsibility anymore” you fired back. “You don’t have to ‘take care’ of me. I was fine before you, and I’ll be fine after you.”

     Your heels clanked against the uneven pavement as you walked away from Duncan and all of the baggage that came with him. In the heat of the moment, you were too fired up to not rub it in his face one last time how wrong he was. You turned back to see the limo still parked on the sidewalk, Duncan watching you. Perfect. Trudging back over to the car, you gave Duncan one last piece of your mind.

     “And by the way, asshole, I never did ANY of this for the money.”

     Adrenaline coursed through your veins, making you too wired to wait for Duncan’s reaction. You barged off into the dark of the city, this horrible, humiliating night being the only way you would remember Duncan for a long time.

-

     Months had passed since you had removed Duncan from your life. There wasn’t much left of your time together, your roommate insisted the two of you burn most of the shit he had bought you, lingerie included. 

     You did keep some things, however. Without Duncan’s money, you were back to being strapped for cash and trying your hardest to hit overtime at the coffee shop. You couldn’t afford to go out and buy a new laptop or replace the coffee maker, so he still popped into your mind from time to time. 

     School was going great, to your surprise. You were on track to graduate in just a handful of weeks, had good grades, and a positive outlook on your future. You even got accepted to conduct research with the head of your department in grad school next semester, which is how you’d once again ended up at that damned hotel for another university sanctioned gala in honor of their top students.

     You clung to the wall with your eyes peeled for Duncan. You weren’t going to let him sneak up on you like he had done all of those months before. You’d triple checked the pamphlet for tonight’s event, The Shepherd Freedom Foundation was the featured guest speaker for tonight, so you knew either him or Annette would be making an appearance. The particular corner you had set up base in gave you the perfect view of the entire ballroom, so you were sure to catch Duncan the second he entered the room.

-

     It wasn’t Duncan, nor was it Annette that took the stage. It was some man you’d never seen or heard Duncan ever talk about, so you were relieved, to say the least. Settling on the idea that Duncan had ditched tonight, you could finally let out the breath you’d been holding in ever since you waltzed through the revolving doors of the lobby.

     The gala had slowed, guests clearing out, music dying down. You found it best to leave, but not before heading to the bathroom one last time. The restrooms in the train station were filthy, and you wouldn’t be caught dead using one of them. 

     On your way out, you bumped chests with someone. Hard. The force sent both of you flying back at least a foot or two.

     “Holy shit. I am SO sorry,” you called out, still not being able to see properly.

     “It’s fine. I should have been watching where I was goi-”

     You tilted your head up, wondering why the stranger had stopped talking so suddenly.

     “Duncan,” you puffed. Of fucking course. Just as you thought you’d made it out unscathed.

     “Y/N.” Duncan looked like he had seen a ghost. “How have you been?”

     “Why do you care? I thought you couldn’t ‘handle me’ anymore. Isn’t that what you said?” you smarted off.

     “Please don’t be like this,” Duncan started, already tired of your attitude. “If you have a minute, I’d love to talk to you about that night. There are some things I need to get off my chest.”

     “Duncan, I really don’t have a minute. Save it, honestly. I got your message the first time. No need to rub it in again.”

     “That’s not it, Y/N. I want to apologize. I was a dick. For no reason. Come up to my room and give me 20 minutes to explain myself. That’s all I’m asking for.”

    You were ready to thwart him off again, hurl another insult at him. But the look on his face, the sincerity, made you hesitate. “It really isn’t worth it,” you thought to yourself, but seeing Duncan in the flesh opened the floodgates, your heart swelling full of emotion once more. Even if nothing came of what Duncan had to say, knowing you let him speak his mind made you think there could finally be some kind of clarity.

-

     An overwhelming feeling of deja-vu consumed you. You felt like you’d been in this exact position, better yet, you knew you had been in this exact position before. Leaning against the sturdy dresser of the hotel room while Duncan sat in the armchair in the corner of the room by the window. Only the last time, it was under completely different circumstances.

     “You wanted to apologize, right? I’m listening,” you didn’t have long until the trains stopped running, so 20 minutes was really all you had. 

     “Y/N...What I said to you that night. Was shitty. Uncalled for. I shouldn’t have let what that guy said get to me, but I did. You’re right, he is a narcissistic asshole. I know you would never do something like that. He was just jealous. Always has been ever since I can remember.”

     “No shit, Duncan. If you would have let me talk that night, I would have told you the truth. He never bought me anything besides drinks. That’s it. I called it off because he’s as disgusting as you said he is. I’ve never gone as far with anyone as I have with you.”

     “I know,” Duncan whispered. His nerves were building, you could sense it from the slight changes in his composure that you once picked up on all that time ago.

     “Then why did you do it?” you grilled at him.

     Duncan was quiet again, staring at his feet.

     “Duncan? Hello??” 

     He finally looked up at you, his eyes glassy and lashes fluttering to ward off tears.

     “Did you mean it when you said you never did this for the money?”

     Duncan got up from his seat and made his way over to you, your heart rate skyrocketing. You guessed now was as good as it was going to get if you were going to finally tell him how you’d felt about him for the back half of the time you were together.

     “Yeah, I did. At first, I didn’t mind it. The lingerie was nice, but I stopped caring about everything about halfway through. Paris is what kinda did me in. Every call, every trip. I just showed up for you. You could’ve cut me off from everythingand I still would have been at your door in a heartbeat. I never said anything, because I was never sure how you would react. I was more comfortable putting on a front than potentially ruining what we had. But I don’t really know why I’m telling you all of this. It’s not like it matters anymo-”

     You were cut off by Duncan smashing his lips against yours. Immediately, his scent, his taste, the feeling of his hands on the sides of your neck, it was completely overbearing. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed kissing him until now. The faint taste of liquor always on the back of his tongue, the way he tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth in a way that was rough, but just the way you liked it. When he drew back, you were breathless, your lips tingling from the stimulation.

     Duncan rested his forehead against yours, hands still holding on to either side of your face.

     “Y/N I think I’m in love with you.”

     Spots clouded your vision. This whole time, you’d torn yourself up over the idea that Duncan could never care about you in the way you felt for him. You were sure of it. You’d said it over and over, at least a hundred times.

     “Duncan-”

    “I’m serious. I never realized it until you were gone. I was raised on the premise that money solves all problems. That money gets you what you want. I’m not good at communicating how I feel. I was taught to manipulate and to lie from the time I could speak full sentences. I thought that if I kept buying you shit, you’d stay. That any form of intimacy was good enough, even if it meant nothing to you. But it meant something to me. It always did. I just never thought that I’d end up caring about you this much.”

     You weren’t aware of the tears littering your cheeks until Duncan swiped them away with his thumbs. There you both stood, chests shaky, trembling in each other’s arms. Everything was on the table.

     “I need you to stop talking and kiss me again,” you stated matter-of-factly.

     Duncan gave you the toothiest grin you had ever seen and pressed his lips to yours again, only gentler. The muscles of his mouth expertly worked against yours. You savored the feeling you’d deprived yourself of for so long. 

     Caught in another wave of familiarity, you walked him back to the bed. He caught on, letting you shrug off his coat before placing himself right at the edge. You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his waist, never once breaking the kiss. Duncan held you in place with his large hands, sighing at the sensation of being able to hold you once again. He really thought he had lost you for good.

     “Are you sure you want this?” he asked. He wasn’t sure he could bring himself to fuck you again if you were going to turn your back on him the second you finished.

     You nodded, looking deep into the crystal blue skies of his eyes.

     “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life.”

     Duncan silently chuckled into your open mouth, pulling you in for another kiss.

     “Good. Now take off your clothes and lie down.”

     His demand ignited the fire in your belly, sending the already pooling wetness in your core over the edge and into the fabric your panties. You did as you were told, torn between wanting to tease him by taking your time and all but ripping your blouse off of your chest to get straight to business. Duncan licked his lips as you undressed, never once taking his eyes off of you. Once you dropped your panties on top of the rest of your discarded clothes, you made your way to the king-sized bed. The same exact one you’d spent many sleepless hours in for several consecutive months.

     “You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” Duncan said, running his hands up and down your bare thighs, parting them to reveal your glistening center. Duncan groaned at the sight, closing his eyes in satisfaction. He slowly ran his fingers through you folds, spreading your slick around, making you jolt on contact.

     “No teasing. I need you inside of me,” you panted.

     Duncan clicked his tongue at your remark. “I need to show you just how sorry I am. Let me prove it to you.”

      With that, he dove into your heat, lips immediately attaching to your clit. He started with slow, gentle sucking motions, pulling back every now and then to place delicate kisses on your most sensitive area. The tugging on your now swollen clit combined with Duncan’s velvet tongue had you whimpering within minutes. Maybe it was because you’d been touch-deprived ever since you ditched Duncan, or maybe he was really just that good. You truly missed this. No one compared to the way Duncan could make you feel. He was acutely aware of every twitch, every reaction you had to his touches. He decided to push you further by dipping his tongue into your entrance to fully taste you. Duncan moaned into your cunt, the taste of you being something he swore he could never get enough of.

     “God I forgot how fucking good you taste, baby girl.”

     You mewled underneath him, his words sending another bout of arousal through your body. He let a warm string of saliva fall from his lips, watching it drip down your already drenched folds before diving back down to drink from you once again. You felt your slick and Duncan’s spit running down your core, surely forming a wet spot on the duvet. Instinctively, you reached one arm down to pull Duncan closer by his hair, pleading for him to work his tongue faster and harder against you. 

     He took the hint, moving on to rutting in and out of your pussy with his mouth and gliding his tongue through your folds with more vigor than before. You were grinding against him, trying to gain any kind of friction there was to offer. Duncan removed one hand from of the inside of your thigh and trailed it down to where his mouth was, leaving goosebumps along your legs. Using his index finger, he torturously worked you open while his lips continued nibbling at your clit. He was lost in his own world, eyes closed, nose pressed harshly against your hood. It gave you some relief, but it still wasn’t enough. You wanted to let go so badly, to let pleasure overpower you. But Duncan’s cock was what you really wanted more than anything.

     It took everything in you to push Duncan’s head away from you. Using your elbows, you sat yourself up on the bed and reached for the buttons on Duncan’s shirt. He happily obliged, working at removing his belt and pants. When he peeled his tight boxers off of his thighs, you were greeted by his rock hard cock bobbing in the cool air of the hotel room. Your mouth watered at the sight, so many thoughts racing through your mind of what you wanted to do to him.

     He hungrily climbed on top of you and began kissing up and down your neck and into the dips of your collarbones. You never thought you’d feel this way again, consumed by Duncan. His hair tickled your chin, causing you to squirm and giggle beneath him. He pulled his lips from your neck with a smacking noise and looked up to see what you were laughing at.

     “What?” he asked, lips red and puffy, slick with spit.

     “Your hair. It tickles.”

     He looked at you once again with bewilderment. How he had managed to find you both back then and now again tonight was beyond his comprehension. He could look at you smiling like that for the rest of his life, he thinks to himself.

     Duncan returned the smile before bringing your lips together once again. You used his moment of weakness to take control, wrapping your legs around his torso and shoving Duncan sideways with your arms so that you were now on top of him, your bare core pressed against his stomach. Normally, he’d punish you for even thinking about doing such a thing. But this time, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was willing to do anything to you and for you, even if it meant letting you take the reigns.

     You slid back, leaving a trail of your wetness all the way down to Duncan’s waist. Using the muscles in your thighs, you carefully lifted yourself away from him so you could position his aching cock beneath you. He hissed at the stimulation of only your fingers, just as touch-starved as you. 

     First running his tip through your slickened folds for lubrication, you then hovered his cock directly above your entrance, bracing yourself for the stretch. As you sunk down, your eyes grew wider and wider, your face contorting into a look of pain and pleasure. 

     “You okay?” Duncan asked when you were fully seated on his cock, his brows furrowed, with small beads of sweat collecting just above them.

     “Mhmm,” you said, or moaned rather. “I forgot how big you are.”

     Duncan lay beneath you, biting his bottom lip so hard he might have drawn blood, but was too preoccupied to notice. It was taking every bit of the willpower had left not to begin bucking his hips into yours.

     He reached forward to grab both of your hands, lacing your fingers with his. He brought your knuckles to his lips, pressing reassuring kisses to each digit. 

     Once you were as adjusted to Duncan’s cock as you’d ever be and the slight pain from the foreign stretch subsided, you began to swivel your hips along his stomach, just barely grinding against him. Duncan kept his eyes on you, squeezing ever so slightly on your palms. The tiny whines leaving your chest with every rotation was music to his ears, but it was egging him on more than he could handle.

     “As good as you feel right now, princess, I’m gonna need you to move a little faster before this takes a turn for the worse and we’re both unhappy.”

     You snickered at Duncan, leaning down to lay your chest flat against his, his throbbing cock still piercing you. You kissed up his jaw, savoring the coarseness of his scruff against your lips. His hands unraveled from yours and went immediately to your ass, spreading you further apart and kneading the skin with his fingers. 

     “Tell me how much you missed me,” you started, in between nipping and sucking at the skin behind his ear with your teeth. “Tell me how much you missed this, daddy.”

     Duncan swallowed hard. He hadn’t heard you say his name like that in what felt like a lifetime. 

     “I missed you,” he gulped, “So fucking much. I missed your tight little pussy. How good it feels when you cum all over daddy’s cock. I wanna fill you up so bad.” 

     You spasmed on top of him, another wave of arousal gushing from you. With a throaty groan, you lifted yourself off Duncan’s cock and quickly slammed back down. Duncan’s breath hitched in the back of his throat, finally scratching that itch he’d had for months.

     You sat up slightly, placing the palms of your hands on Duncan’s pecks. Your pace was as quick as you could manage, his cock sliding in and out of your drenched cunt effortlessly. You fit together like a puzzle piece you thought. Made for each other, not belonging with anyone else. The gushing sounds of wet skin slapping together and exhausted panting encompassed the room. The initial burn had long gone and pure, carnal pleasure had taken over you as you impaled your body on Duncan’s cock.

     “God, Y/N. Are you close? I don’t think I can hold it much longer,” he confessed. 

     “Almost. Just hang on for a little while longer. I wanna cum with you.”

     You were bouncing on top of him now, your breasts bobbing along to your movements. Duncan shifted his position slightly, moving both of you a few feet back so he could rest his back against the headboard. He took you by the small of your back and pulled you as close as humanly possible, wanting to feel every inch of your skin against his.

     He eagerly placed on hand on the back of your neck, moving the other up to the spot between your shoulder blades to keep you close as you milked his cock. He started at your lips, working his tongue against yours in starving passion. Moving down to the hollow of your throat, he sucked harsh, moon shaped marks against your skin. You were chanting his name over and over, thrust after thrust like a prayer, losing yourself in Duncan’s touch.

     You weren’t sure if you could do it. Every muscle in your body ached from riding him, sweat coating every square inch of your skin. Duncan noted your falter and began moving your hips for you, thrusting you up and down his cock with all of the strength he had left. He was barely holding on himself.

     “Y/N I’m gonna-”

     He came suddenly with a grunt. His eyelashes fluttered and his mouth was parted slightly. You felt him spill inside of you, his hot seed coating your contracting walls. Duncan milked you for all that you were worth, his cum leaking onto his shaft, spurring on your own release in the process. The heat once pooling in the pit of your stomach spreading throughout your entire body. Your hips sputtered, unable to keep going through your orgasm, you buried your head in the crook of his neck.

     For a solid minute, neither of you said anything. You just laid there, still inside of him, catching your breath, your cheek resting on his shoulder. You had no idea what was going to happen next. You’d both just confessed your feelings, and you both felt the same way, but you kept asking yourself the same question. Would it ever work?

     “Duncan?” You spoke up, still not moving your head from the comfort of his shoulder.

     “Yeah?”

     “Do you think we could ever be together?” you were quieter this time, suddenly feeling as vulnerable as the night he approached you with the idea of the “arrangement” that briefly turned both of your lives upside down.

     “Is that not what we’re doing right now?” he asked.

     “You know what I mean.”

     “I’m willing to give it a shot. We’ve made it this far. Only a smaaaall mishap.”

     “Yeah, a small mishap,” you laughed, nuzzling further into Duncan’s neck.

     “Tell you what. Why don’t you stay here, and we can talk about it in the morning. I’m actually extremely fucking exhausted.”

     “Deal,” you replied.

     Duncan slid himself out of you, a chill taking over you at the suddenly emptiness. He turned you on your side, wrapping his long arms around your waist as he pulled the sheet up to your chest. You faced him this time, not worried about what he was thinking or what he would say next.

     He kissed the top of your forehead while running his fingers through the knots in your hair. You leaned into his touch before exhaustion took over and you both fell asleep. You dreamed of each other again, just like in Paris, only this time about the future each of you would have together.

Tagging:

(If you’re not on my tag list, I hope it’s okay that I tagged you! Definitely let me know if don’t want me to!)

@avesatanormalpeoplescareme @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @venusxxlangdon   @ccodyfern @michaellangdong @michael-langdon-owns-my-soul @wroteclassicaly @omg-hellgirl @aveiangdon @belusima  @readsalot73 @americanhorrorstudies @langdonsdemon @ticklish-leafy-plant @michaelfuckinglangdon @fpsjacket @mother-tequila 

[greatfay]

The fosters 😏

Ohhhhhh my godddddddd I’m gonna diiiiiie. Ok let the memories resurface, this may take a minute.

my all-time ultimate fave character:

Stef. I just really liked her arcs, how straight forward she is, etc. Classic ISTJ tbh... cautious, reserved, protective, methodical, quietly affectionate. Like at the end of the day, I think she’s my fave. The kids go through so much ups and downs and Dumbass Moments that none of them can be my fave, and Lena is a close second but the writers only gave her one strong arc, and that’s when she tried to have a baby and that was so painful.

For several seasons I used to say my fave was Mike because he was Prime Dad Material. Like in the very first episode, he comes off as this douchey, entitled, deadbeat asshole who oversteps boundaries, right? Classic switcheroo. You find out this man is a saint, this man oozes emotional sensitivity and communication and affection, this man is also a dilf with eyelashes longer than should be legal. When he fostered AJ (I’m crying right now). Getting Ana through rehab??? Fighting his own alcohol addiction and not breaking once. Like the only time he ever let me down was his reaction to Dani MOLESTING Brandon, but he realized like whoa wait a minute... Brandon’s been taken advantage of and if Brandon were a girl he would see it different... Like all of Mike’s mistakes were temporary mistakes, he recovered quick and tried to do the right thing. If only his son was as quick on the uptake 😒

a character I didn’t used to like but now do:

Brandon. It took five seasons for me to like Brandon. You know how many seasons this show had? Five. And it’s because he’s pulled through the ringer of Suffering™ and it’s almost ALL his fault so that by the end when he’s doing the right thing again and again for the first time ever... and meets that super sweet girl... and then she DIES 

a character I used to like but now don’t:

Jude. He was such an intuitive, intense child, with wisdom earned from awful trauma, and watching him slowly assert himself was a wonder to watch. I do think the writers got lost with him, because his second love interest was a bore, his pothead thing was awful to watch, and when he became a twitch streamer with Taylor—WHAAACK. By the time of Good Trouble (which takes place years after The Fosters, so Jude is a sophomore/junior in college) Jude is drinking a LOT, partying a LOT, and fucking!!! a LOT!! Makes me concerned. Idk, it just felt like he lost his intuition halfway through the show and kept doing dumb stuff.

a character I’m indifferent about:

Every ex of the family lmao, idr them and I was not too fired up about any of them except maybe Emma. Like all of Jesus’ and Brandon’s exes I can’t remember.

a character who deserved better:

I’m just gonna make a list

AJ. Literally just him and Mike are just the cutest because of how earnestly the actor plays AJ, you know I love found family tropes and stuff.

 Mat. Such a sweetheart, the most accommodating and supportive boyfriend. So talented. Gorgeous hair. Mariana didn’t deserve him.

Cole. This boy fought SO HARD to be recognized for his gender, organized an LGBTQA prom for all his classmates who were rejected from their school’s prom, had to get hormones off the black market, and was so intuitive and loyal... honestly I loved Cole.

Aaron. SUCH a confusing end. Out of all the love interests, he and Callie popped with the most chemistry. The shared quest, the rides on the motorcycle, pictures at the beach, his great college advice. Their fight at her prom was so left-field and upsetting, and we know it’s because they wanted Callie to be single when the series ended so she could be free to date in Good Trouble. If I’m not mistaken, theirs is the first trans/cis relationship portrayed on network television... ever? And I mean a relationship, not a hook up.

Wyatt. Another sweetheart, what happened between him and Callie wasn’t really about him, it was about her and it was definitely about legal issues, and she was right to set her boundaries, but ouch that hurt. Gorgeous hair.

Notice how most of this list either dated Callie or crushed on her lmao except for Mat. Also

Rita. The woman lives and breathes childcare and youth advocacy. Let her win.

DAPHNE KEENE. She had her daughter with her in the series finale but I haven’t heard mention of her yet in Good Trouble, she’d better have custody and a job salary over 70k for what this show put her through.

EMMA. This poor girl was practically torn in two between the twins, from Jesus’ messy/horny ass to Mariana’s bossy controlling ass. She should be president.

a ship I’ve never been able to get into:

Most of Jesus’ relationships. He’s a fuck up so all of them are basically waiting for a train wreck. His most healthy one was with Emma, who was too good for him, and the one with most chemistry was with Lexi, but she was messy af too so that wasn’t going to work.

a ship I’ve never been able to get over:

Jude/Connor. It sailed and sunk in two minutes. So apparently, Jude/Connor have the youngest LGBT kiss shown on television. This show really made history, huh. They were adorable, they literally struggled to be a couple (since Connor’s dad is homophobic) and then after being a couple for like 2 episodes, Connor’s dad walking in on them kissing and basically blowing up was so traumatizing for the kid that he moved in with his mom in LA to get away from him. They try to do the long distance thing but they're middle schoolers... and it’s their first relationship each... and both of them are just now figuring out that they’re gay. it doesn’t work out. Would love for Connor to come back in Good Trouble and try to woo Jude or something (cuz Jude...???? he’s just FUCKING... ALL the time. Like one second he’s the adorable 12-year-old you just want to shield from the world, and then it’s like TIME SKIP, he’s a college frat boy now and he fucks “straight” boys every weekend).

a cute, low-key ship:

Lol this show didn’t do low-key ships, everything was loud.

an unpopular ship but I still enjoyed it:

Stef/Lena; because they’re the main couple on the show and yet we as the audience forget that they’re even an option as an OTP. These two are marriage goals. They fight, they argue, they have conflicting viewpoints, but they always sit down and talk at the end of the day, and they pull it together because of their love for the kids and each other. I live for them, I seriously wanted them to adopt me. I’d cook for the family so they would be an ounce less stressed. They’re such great moms and they try SO hard to be there for the kids, who each come with truckloads of baggage and problems all befitting network TV teen drama protagonists.

a ship that was totally wrong and never should have happened:

BRALLIE. They’re SIBLINGSSSS AHHHH. “But they’re foster siblings” I DON’T CARE. This is not a damn Victorian novel, it’s gross. Maybe in season 1 it wasn’t as bad since Callie had zero intentions of staying with the Adams-Fosters family and was used to being bounced around in foster care, but after bonding with them all and truly believing they wanted her, season 2 onward Brallie disgusts me.

Mariana/Nick. Let’s talk about his actor for a second. Louis Hunter played a teenager in The Secret Circle back in 2011 (don’t @ me but I loved that show) and guess what, friends, he was TOO FUCKING OLD to play a teenager THEN. That opinion stands 7 years later. An absolute creep who traumatized Mariana, the girl had to go to THERAPY. She went to THERAPY because of him.

Lena/Monte. UGHHHHHHHHh this made me so mad. Monte was being so gross and inappropriate, like not only is Lena her employee/subordinate... but Lena is a WOMAN. She’s grown as hell and confident in her identity and has a whole ass wife (a WIFE) and a family to take care of, and here comes Monte with her weird ass flirtations and stuff. She could NEVER. Lena is a goddess and Monte but an ant crawling on the sidewalk outside her temple.

my favourite storyline/moment:

When Stef confronted her internalized homophobia and misogyny during his breast cancer scare and she cut her hair to symbolize her ownership of her femininity. That was POWERFUL. Stef actually had so many great emotional arcs throughout the show; losing her father (who never really “got” her “lesbianism”), her mother’s breast cancer scare, HER breast cancer scare, her fight to become a detective, maybe it’s Teri Polo but Stef is such a stand-up, rigid character with such a strong moral center that watching her trudge through emotional trauma every gd episode was riveting.

Jude’s selective mutism. I remember this out of nowhere, but Jude went mute?? And he had to see a therapist, who deduced his problem and attributed it to an anxiety disorder and advised the family not to stress him out or pressure him to talk, and he went like this for a couple episodes. Like this boy went through so much trauma that it took like one thing, one little thing, to make him shut down. And Callie like patiently waiting for him to speak, and then her seeing her rapist and the only person she wanted to talk to about it was her little brother and he still wouldn’t talk, he just sits there playing video games, and she sends him a message on Xbox Live saying ‘Please talk to me’ and he ignores it then she sends another message “I saw Liam today” and he just looks at her as tears are falling down her face and places his hand on her arm in support. I. CRIED. Even after that moment, like in the next episode he’s still mute and Callie reminds him again that he’s been so strong compared to her that he’s “due for a breakdown” and not to feel any pressure to talk before he’s ready, and they fucking plant flowers together for Lena (I’m covering my mouth with one hand to keep from crying, I’m getting old feels. Remember when we used to say ‘feels’?). Ok I’m done.

Ok the storyline where Brandon is caught cheating for people on the SATs and won’t be able to go to Juilliard was POWERFUL. I loved that Brandon and Lena had a lot of bonding moments, and Lena was honest with Brandon in a way no one else was, she was like these are the consequences of your actions. You had decisions to make and you made the bad decisions every time, and now you’re here. Remember when you selling fake IDs for that dealer ended with your hand getting smashed so you can’t play classical music any more? Did you learn from that? Clearly not. POWERFUL. Lena scalped me on that day.

a storyline that never should have been written:

Most of Brandon’s storylines lmao. Him selling the fake IDs, him taking SATs for other students, him dating that 21+ woman with a kid and deciding he has to drop out of school and get a full time job to take care of her??? I love how Stef had to pull him aside and tell him “You’re Captain Save-A-Ho! And I know this because you got your Save-A-Ho gene from me!!” Brandon was MESSY. Despite being the typically “boring” of the kids in that he didn’t party or drink, he had interest in typical teen stuff, he was also impulsive in the worst way with his relationships and would get tunnel vision. Remember when Stef and Lena had to pull a restraining on Brandon for Callie??? My godddddd, a MESS. We’re not going to talk about how he finally fell in love with the right girl and she fucking dies.

BRALLIE. That bit where Callie didn’t think she was getting adopted so she FUCKS BRANDON, I’M NOT OVER IT. AHHHH.

Jude becoming a pothead. It was really dumb. I’d have been happier if the focus was on his anxiety and how it helped him.

Everything Monte related.

The time Jude downloaded Grindr and met up with a guy in his motel room?? And the guy was a grown man?? And of course he freaks out because Jude is a kid and tells him to gtfo??? That made me SOOOOO uncomfortable, which is why I hated it. BUT, I liked how the moms handled it, because obviously he’s a boy who’s curious and he’s surrounded by other kids—especially his four siblings with their tumultuous whirlwind of relationships—who are constantly making out with this person and hooking up with that person, and because he’s gay... and has this limited dating pool... and his first love moved to another fucking city to escape his homophobic dad... how does he get to explore his sexuality? who does he get to kiss at a party? This was so relatable, so many lgbtqa youth deal with this everyday, this sort of social pressure and FOMO as the cis straight kids around us are hitting all these romantic and sexual milestones while we’re sitting on an island. And obviously Stef and Lena sympathize, but then empathize how incredibly dangerous it was because Jude could’ve gotten hurt, there are guys out there who could do terrible things to him and he has to think these things through, not to mention the guy in question could’ve been just a normal dude trying to get it on and that he was put in danger—and this was the same season that explores how Jesus and Mariana’s birth father ended up on the sex offenders’ registry. It was handled well but remembering this storyline gives me anxiety.

The Jack storyline. I forgot this kid’s name and what happened to him so I had to peruse the wiki and I fell down a rabbit hole. Basically, this is a kid who was in a privatized group home, during a season in which Callie does volunteer work with a woman, Justina Marks, who is trying to pass a bill to reform child social services—only to discover that she wants to privatized the foster system to make money off of them, which of course makes Callie like do a BUNCH of risky stupid shit to take her down. So Jack gets temporarily moved into the Adams-Fosters home, proving to be a very quirky, quiet, sensitive boy, he kisses Jude after Jude’s breakup with Connor? Then reveals he’s not actually gay, he just wanted Jude to be happy? And it’s really fucking sad because he has this bleeding heart and this need to make everyone around him happy because he sees himself as this burden. Then he gets placed into a new foster home, despite Stef and Lena wanting to keep him around... and he gets put in the same foster home with the same man who abused Jude in the show’s pilot—and like the inciting incident for the show itself (Callie destroying his car to distract him from beating her brother > her going to juvie > her getting beat up in juvie > Lena seeing this poor bruised up girl and thinking “she’s my daughter now”). So Jack ends up being fostered by the horrible, abusive man who should never have been allowed to be within feet of a child again, and Stef just so happens to be one of the officers nearby when a domestic disturbance is called in, and when she arrives at the house with her partner she’s like “bruh I know this house” and when she goes into the kitchen she steps on something: a pair of glasses. Whose glasses???

JACK’S. And she quietly lays a sheet over his dead body. His foster father, who’d already been arrested once for beating Jude, shot him in a drunken rage. And CALLIE LATER FINDS OUT JuSTINA MARKS SET IT UP TO USE AS HER FACE CASE IN SUPPORT OF HER BILL.

my first thoughts on the show:

Literally the first time I heard the theme song when I randomly decided to watch it on Netflix in like 2014 (2015? I can’t remember, I don’t think season 3 was out at that point so it might’ve been 2014) I was like oh this is going to be the crying show.

my thoughts now:

I was right. I would not rewatch this show lmao, but I’m fond of it. I did randomly decide to start watching Good Trouble and surprisingly I like it and I missed the characters. I can look back and appreciate how this show handled a lot of tender topics as tastefully as they could, and examine them from a lot of different angles.

Ask me about a tv show/movie/franchise/book!

[keichanz]

Soulmates AU

Because I’m too lazy and tired to think up a title right now.

For the anon who requested prompt number 1 from this post.

Edit: Holy fucking shit there are so many errors and typos please ignore them until I get around to fixing them lmao

Kagome stared down in a mixture of abject horror and absolute elation at the name that had just materialized moments ago on the skin of her right wrist. She was on her way to work on an average Thursday morning, taking the train as she did every day to get to her job as an archery instructor at a special martial arts gym run by her best friend. It definitely had not been there when she’d woken up that morning, and she’d only noticed it because she’d caught a glimpse of black when she’d taken a sip of her Starbucks coffee.

The Soulmate Mark, otherwise known as the name of your Soulmate, only showed up under one condition: you were going to meet them that day, usually within the first hour after it appears. Typically this would be a cause for great happiness and excitement. After all, although everyone is born with a Soulmate, it was still rare that Soulmates actually ended up together because more often than not they lived in different states or even countries. Some received them as young as a day old, while others weren’t lucky enough to get them until they were old and gray. So for it to appear when you’re only in your twenties was a blessing, something to celebrate and remember the day it happened for all of your days.

And usually Kagome would be ecstatic, bouncing off the walls even, and phone everybody she knew…had the name that appeared on her wrist not been in ancient Japanese kana. 

That…wasn’t normal, was it? Kagome blinked down at the characters, able to recognize them for what they were because of her background growing up on a shrine. Her mother’s Mark was in regular Japanese in her deceased father’s handwriting. Sango’s was similar, with her mark being the smooth, elegant characters of her Soulmate’s name in his flowing script. A childhood friend she’d recently reconnected with had gotten her Mark a few months ago in her significant other’s handwriting, also in plain Japanese. 

So why…why was her Mark written in characters that dated back to the Feudal Era? She studied the black ink intently, and found herself actually admiring how it looked. The characters that made up his name were sort of rough around the edges, appearing to be a scrawl more than anything as if written in hasty brush strokes. It wasn’t neat, and yet Kagome had no problem at all deciphering that characters that made up her Soulmate’s name. It was a strange contradiction, and Kagome wondered what the figure the name belonged to was like.

The loud screech of the train braking abruptly brought her out of her thoughts and Kagome blinked again before shaking her head and disembarking. Despite her confusion, elation and slight trepidation, she didn’t have time to dwell on her situation at the moment. Her shift started in half an hour and even though the gym was only a five-minute walk from the station, she needed to prepare for the lessons that day, ranging from beginner to advanced.

Unfortunately, by the time she hurried through the doors of the gym seventeen minutes later due to some unforeseen circumstances including a cyclist, her coffee, and a stained t-shirt, her questionable Soulmate Mark had all but disappeared from her mind as she mentally rolled through the day’s agenda, what needed to be done, what bows she needed to retrieve and lay out for the students who didn’t have one of their own, crap she needed to set up the targets, did the new arm guards come in yet, how many students needed to have their bows already strung, and she really hoped she had a change of clothes somewhere in the archery room. And shit, wasn’t the IT guy supposed to come in today? Damn her stupid computer and its stupid tendency to get stupid viruses! The only thing she ever did on there was play solitaire and go to one stinkin’ website to order more archery supplies! How did it even happen?!

Donned in white judogi with a black belt and talking with her husband and Soulmate, Sango almost missed her best friend’s hasty entrance and distracted rush toward the back of the gym where the door to her archery lessons took place in had it not been for Miroku’s curious raised eyebrow. “Kagome!” she called, jogging over to catch her before she disappeared from view. “Wait, Kagome, I have to tell you—”

“Sorry, Sango, can’t talk, I’m running late today,” Kagome interrupted a bit breathlessly without stopping, failing to notice her friend’s increasingly panicked look the closer she got to the door. “Spilled coffee, gotta change my shirt, lot to do, talk after lessons, okay?” She reached for the knob and yanked the door open.

“Wait! Kagome, listen, do you remember Miroku’s friend—”

“Just send the IT man back when he gets here, thanks San!”

“That’s what I’m tryin—!”

The door slammed shut, Kagome dropped her purse to the floor and then immediately started tugging off her coffee-stained t-shirt, deciding she’d just change into one of the old kosodes she supplied if one of her students desired to wear one during lessons. Most of them were a little too big for her, and smelled funky – she kept forgetting to take them home and launder them – but they would serve her purpose well enough, until she could go home during lunch and change into a fresh t-shirt. And, dammit, she was getting another coffee since she wasn’t able to enjoy her first one this morning. Stupid bicyclist. There were bicycles lanes for a reason…

Kagome dropped the dirty shirt to the floor on her way to the supply closet in the back of the room, snatched a few Kleenex from her desk on her way by to wipe off the coffee residue on her stomach, reached for the door handle—

And froze. Kagome’s back stiffened, her eyes went wide, and the color drained from her face as, painstakingly slowly, she turned her head toward her desk and met the very wide stricken golden eyes of a furiously blushing silver-haired man in her desk chair, one clawed hand lying immobile on the keyboard to her computer while the other hovered over the mouse, frozen in place.

The two stared at each other silently for what seemed like a small eternity, one in increasing mortification and the other with a rapidly growing mixture of awkwardness and embarrassment and had Kagome not been so distracted by the fact that there was a complete and total (but hot) stranger sitting at her desk, she might have noticed the spark of male appreciation in those amber depths. The silence seemed to stretch on forever and in that time Kagome’s face rivaled that of a tomato and still the (hot) stranger didn’t move, didn’t look away.

“…Uh—”

Kagome shrieked, yanked open the closet door and dove inside, slamming the door shut behind her. She heard lurid cursing from the other side as she blindly groped around for a kosode in the darkness and then hastily shrugged it on, effectively hiding the pink lace bra that whoever the hell was out there had gotten good a very good look at. “Who are you and why are you in my classroom?!” she screamed through the door, not quite ready to go out and face him—if he was even still there.

“—Christ—” Well, that answered that. “—I’m the goddamn IT guy,” he yelled back to her then grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “—ears are still ringing.”

“Fine,” Kagome snapped, glaring at the door even though the recipient couldn’t see it. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re in my classroom!”

The supposed IT man swore again. “Sango sent me in to—Jesus, this is stupid, would you come out of there already?!” There was a note of impatience to his voice and Kagome could have sworn she heard a growl.

“You’re stupid,” Kagome muttered petulantly back but reluctantly obeyed, making sure the kosode was tied securely before cracking open the door, peering out, and then exiting the closed in space. She kept her arms tightly folded across her chest as she regarded the silver-haired man with narrowed eyes. He was standing in front of the closet now with his arms crossed over his chest, a scowl on his red face and his golden eyes glaring at her in irritation. Aggravated herself, Kagome was still blushing as she warily asked, “What did Sango send you in to do?”

He raised a brow and snorted. “Keh. Thought that’d be obvious. IT guy?” He waved a hand toward the desk where her computer sat. “I fix computers?”

Kagome’s flush deepened and she murmured, “Oh,” looking a bit sheepish that she hadn’t put two and two together herself but then her earlier ire returned and she glared accusingly at him. “You pervert,” she hissed and he sputtered in what she guessed was disagreement. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything?! I can’t believe you just let me—oh my God,” she moaned, dropping her heated face in her hands, embarrassed all over again. The IT guy saw her in her bra. She was going to die.

“I am not!” he protested vehemently, the scowl back on his face and—yes, he was growling, Kagome discovered. What the— “You’re the one who walked in here and started stripping!”

Kagome’s mouth dropped. “Hey—this is my classroom! And it’s not like I expected anybody to be in here! It’s normally empty!” That was when she recalled her best friend trying to tell her something before she’d entered the room, and she’d been in such a hurry to change and get everything prepared for her 9 am class, she couldn’t be bothered to wait and hear her now. Now Kagome was wishing she’d waited to hear Sango’s explanation as to what lie beyond the door to her classroom.

He sneered at her. “Well next time why don’t you listen when someone’s trying to tell you that there’s someone else inside the room you’re going into!”

The archery instructor opened her mouth, closed it, then pouted, annoyed that she couldn’t really argue that point because hadn’t she just told herself the same thing? Still, she mumbled under her breath about rude IT guys and huffily stuck her nose in the air, trying to appear regal and unaffected by it all, but the affect was ruined by the still-going-strong blush coloring her cheeks a vivid shade of scarlet.

The silver-haired man snorted, seemed to relax a little at her apparent defeat – to him anyway – then turned his head, but gave her a calculating, sidelong glance. “Besides,” he muttered suddenly, drawing her narrow-eyed attention. “…S’not like I saw anything interesting anyhow.”

Kagome gaped for the second time in as many minutes and she reacted without thinking, the movement pure reflex. With a cry of outrage she flung her palm toward his face in slap the shit out of him but then gasped when he caught her wrist mid-slap and glowered darkly at her and yep, he was definitely growling.

“Wench—” he started, then abruptly caught himself off as his gaze flicked to the wrist he held in his hand—her right wrist and Kagome gasped when she realized what he was staring at so intently with suddenly wide whiskey-colored eyes. Panicking, Kagome tugged at her wrist, trying to escape the tight grip he had on it, but his hold was firm and it was like he didn’t even notice her valiant tugging, his eyes fixated on her Mark with something flashing in his eyes that Kagome couldn’t quite place. Dread? Fearful astonishment? Cautious hope? Wait, what—

“Kagome,” he suddenly whispered and said woman’s world came to a screeching halt.

Instantly ceasing her attempts to escape his grip, Kagome stared in dawning horror at the man who had probably-most-definitely seen her in her bra and swallowing the suddenly lump in her throat, she dropped her gaze to his hand, drove forward to latch onto his right wrist and yank it up to eyelevel, ignoring his grunt of surprise. Then she whimpered because no matter how hard she tried to deny it, no matter how vehemently she told herself this was not happening, the proof was staring her right in the face: her name in precise blank ink, blazoned across his wrist in clear Japanese—Kagome.

Face pale, heart thundering in her chest, Kagome slowly lifted her gaze up to his face and found him already staring at her, his expression similar to her own. He’d loosened the hold he had on her wrist and he was cradling her hand in his own, his thumb absently sweeping across the Mark that tattooed the pale flesh of her own wrist in ancient Japanese kana—Inuyasha.

They stared at each other silently for an undetermined amount of time, minds whirling, hearts racing until each of their expressions morphed a horrified mask of adamant disbelief, and then they their mouths opened simultaneously and three words fell from two sets of lips.

“Oh, hell no!”  

There is probably definitely going to be a part two. Because this was just too fun to write lmao.

[sweetnestor]

12 Days | Chapter 2

Two guys that lowkey hate each other are forced to walk in each other’s shoes in order to learn a lesson.

***in collaboration with @themarkiplierexperience

lmao soz its not actually x reader we’re just desperate for attention haaaa

previous

“I really think you overworked yourself this time,” said a soft, yet clear female voice. “Maybe you should have slept instead of working at the office all night.”

Tom wasn’t sure how long this girl had been speaking. All he knew was that he was in a car with her, and she was driving him to… he didn’t know where. Probably missed that in the midst of all the panic. He barely even got a look at her, so he turned his head to the driver and, well…

He recognized the shiny black hair that faded to a vibrant pink. Her side profile was oddly familiar. This was Bella, right? The girl who the people at “the office” were talking about. Tom knew her from somewhere, he just couldn’t pinpoint where. For some reason, he had to look at her until he figured it out.

She noticed his staring and glanced at him before turning back to the road. She seemed very concerned for this Ethan guy. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Yes, actually. I think I switched places with your friend and I don’t know where I am or how to switch back. That’ll land Tom in the hospital for sure. He didn’t need to be locked away in the psych ward, he just had to find out how this happened. In the meantime, all he could do was go along with what this girl was saying.

“I-It’s probably what you said,” he replied, breaking the gaze. “Overworked myself.” He pulled out his - or Ethan’s - phone and one look at the lockscreen made it click.

Bella is his girlfriend.

“Yeah, next time,” she continued, “let’s not go right back to editing after a convention. I know you’re passionate about YouTube, but you need a break just as much as anyone else does. And besides, Mark has two editors for a reason, Kathryn could have taken over if you were really that exhausted.”

“Right, got it.” Tom hesitated. Maybe he could still play off being disoriented from the panic attack. “Um, love… do you happen to remember my, my passcode?”

She chuckled. “Is it not your thumbprint, my dear?”

Well, shit. Now I’ll never know who’s body I’m possessing. This is useless, I’m stuck-

Again, it clicked. Tom pressed the button, mentally kicking himself. Before he could dig around and find more information, the car came to halt in front of an apartment complex. Was this the place Ethan shared with Bella?

He got out of the car and followed her into the building. This was so strange, he shouldn't have been here. He was supposed to be in his own body, on a plane to Atlanta.

“Chamomile?” Bella offered as she unlocked the door to the apartment.

“Yeah… please,” Tom replied.

While she dove into the kitchen, he looked around at the place. Things were scattered here and there. However, he noticed 2 large plaques on the wall and went to look at them.

They were identical play buttons in large frames, one was silver and the other was gold. They both read “Bella Santiago, Congratulations for surpassing ______ Subscribers.” The silver was for one hundred thousand and the other was for one million. This girl was popular on YouTube, apparently. Tom didn't quite understand that.

Wait. YouTube. Pink hair. Blue hair.

Tom gasped just as Bella approached him again, this time with a mug of tea. She raised her eyebrows at his miniature burst.

“What's wrong?” she asked.

You interviewed me. I know you.

“Nothing,” he replied as he accepted the mug.

She chuckled. “Come on, cariño. Let's go lie down. Or… would you rather I just take you home?”

So this wasn't a shared place. Why were there two bedrooms, then? Tom was very confused, and that was already an understatement.

He had to find out more about Ethan, and where exactly they both were, so Tom decided to let Bella take him ‘home’ after he finished his tea.

It didn’t have any calming affect on him. It was even worse when Bella leaned in to kiss him when she walked him to the front door. Tom instinctively leaned back in shock, his eyes wide. He was the boyfriend.

After that awkward interaction, Bella unlocked the door for him, since Tom left Ethan’s keys at the office. His girlfriend didn’t seem too pleased when she left, but there were other things to think about at the moment.

Tom wandered around the apartment, glancing at all of Ethan’s belongings before pulling out his phone again. With a press of a button, it was unlocked again, and Tom began to properly snoop through this guy’s social media. What kind of life was this Ethan person living? Besides having a hot girlfriend and an office job, of course.

Instagram name: CrankGameplays. Still don't know his surname. Bio: “I scream at the video games.” Helpful. Tom scrolled through Ethan’s profile, only seeing the face that he now owned. Although, the first picture he saw was of him wearing a red wig, making a silly pose with a woman with black hair. He’s seen worse. The next one that caught his eye was of Ethan posing in front of a huge screen. His head covered most of it, but Tom could make out the words: Markiplier’s You're Welcome Tour.

So… he's a comedian? Is he in an improv group?

Tom left that app and went to Twitter. Ethan's profile was mainly a bunch of tweets with links to YouTube videos. Did he do this alongside the office job? Or… was this the office job? He tapped on one of the links.

“What is up my cranky crew? It's Ethan from CrankGameplays, and today we are back with ‘Little Nightmares!’” said the real Ethan in the video.

Growing impatient, Tom skipped forward a few minutes, only seeing the guy play some horror game. That's all this 45 minute video was. He looked at other videos of his, and they were all the same. Playing video games. This is what he did for a living? Tom had so many questions, but most of all, he just had to know how to contact the real Ethan.

He went back to Twitter and searched his own handle. As expected, there were no new tweets. Of course he couldn't send a direct message to this account either because they weren't following each other.

Tom went back to the homescreen, thinking. If everything in his actual schedule went according to plan, then his actual self should be in Atlanta right now. So if he was still in the States, then that meant he had his America phone…

~

The only reason Ethan had decided to play along, to 'take the role' as Tom was that, well, he had no choice. It was either pretend he was Tom and nothing was wrong or spill the beans and risk getting put in the hospital for a week. Also, the car was at least a way out of this hotel room that was increasing his anxiety by the minute.

He'd underestimated the severity of his sickness though. He was sure he was hungover now, judging by the way he couldn't stop sweating and the way his stomach kept flipping. He stepped into the car with every intention to make them turn around and take him home, but was knocked out as soon as he felt the unusually comfortable leather seats. So much for going back home.

He woke up long enough to stumble onto a plane with the help of Harrison, completely in a daze that he couldn't quite shake. "Jeez Tom, you fat lard," Harrison mumbled as he carried the majority of Ethan's weight.

Ethan was barely able to groan in response.

He was nudged awake a little while later. "Come on, you've got to drink this," Harrison whispered as he shoved a glass of water into Ethan's hands.

His sight was blurry, but that glass of water was a sight for sore eyes. His cotton mouth was horrendous and his throats felt raw and scratchy. Two pills were shoved into his palm. Without even asking what they were he popped them in his mouth, finished off his glass, and fell right back asleep.

He woke up once more while on the plane, approximately 40,000 feet in the air on its way to Atlanta. The light streamed in through the half open window next to Ethan, effectively blinding him as Harrison sat down in the seat next to him.

"Rise and shine sleepy beauty! Up for good now, or have you still got some sleep left in ya?" Harrison clapped his hand onto Ethan's knee.

Fuck, so it hadn't just been a bad dream.

"Jesus Christ, why are you yelling?" Ethan mumbled, covering his eyes with his palms as he stretched.

"I'm not, you're just still bombed from last night," he snickered.

Ethan groaned, he doesn't even know who this guy is, much less why he's on a plane or where he's going. "How much longer?" He murmurs, eyes still squinting as the sun beamed onto him.

"We land in 20 minutes. You slept through a 4 hour flight, there's no way you're getting any sleep tonight."

Ethan's blood ran cold. 4 hours?! The flight to Maine is almost 5, where the heck was he going?

"Oh good, you're up." A blonde woman walked into the room and sat in the seat facing him. "Feel any better?"

"Uh yeah, yeah. Guess I just needed some more rest," Ethan tried his best not to stammer, how would Tom act in this situation?

"I bet, you were hitting those drinks pretty hard last night," she laughed as she pulled out her tablet.

"Yeah, my bad," Ethan chuckles nervously. He can't help but wonder if he looks as nervous as he feels. Can they hear how fast his heart is beating?

"Alright, so here's the plan for today. We land in about 20 minutes, then you and Haz can stay in your hotel rooms for about an hour or so. You've got a meeting with the Chaos Walking crew at 3, so be down in the lobby by 2:30. After that you've got a few interviews at 5, they shouldn't take very long though. Dinner afterwards and then we’ll be back on the plane by 10." The words flowing out of her mouth just served as a smack in the face for Ethan. He's going to do what and go where at what time?

"Uhh," the blank face on his face pulled a laugh out of 'Haz', is his name not Harrison?, and the woman in front of him. "Run that by me once more?"

"No need, as long as Haz knows the schedule you'll be fine. I'll be there too," she said with a shrug. Ethan slowly began taking in her features as she and Haz began discussing something about the schedule.

Shoulder length blonde hair, curled at the ends. Blue eyes, a pair of glasses resting in her hair. She didn't look like she was taller than Ethan, although it's had to tell from where he's sitting. A name catches his interest. Olivia. She must be his agent or manager or whatever those people that tell you what to do are called. She seemed nice.

Ethan spent the last 10 minutes of the ride staring at his shoes.

Another rush of anxiety passed through him while exiting the airport, he was getting used to these. Holy shit, was he going to have to interact with all of the fans waiting outside? Sure, he's interacted with fans in the past, but never on a scale this large outside of a convention. He didn't even know what Tom's signature looked like!

"You up for a few pictures?" Olivia asked. Ethan shook his head, no, not in a million years. "Figured, you look a mess."

Well thanks. The security guards pushed past the group of fans outside, the look on Ethan's face a mixture of excitement and terror. So this is what being swarmed feels like.

The car ride was quiet, Harrison and Olivia chatted the whole ride while Ethan was just content to look out the window. He calmed down a bit, feeling ok for the first time all day. Harrison led him up the elevator and to their rooms.

"Oh, by the way, here's your phone," he said right before Ethan walked into his room. "I grabbed it back in LA before we left. I'm surprised you haven't asked for it yet," he said with a chuckle.

"Ah, thanks," Ethan nodded at him, mustering up a small smile and quickly locking the door behind him.

As if on cue, the phone in his hand started to ring. The panic that runs through his body is cut short, that's his phone number! “Hello?” He answers, still not used to the sound of his voice.

“Hello!” Tom said, nearly jumping at his own voice. “Hi, hello!” He was so antsy about what he would hear on the other line that his mind immediately went blank. What was he supposed to say now?

There was a silence then, an uncomfortable one. Unsure of what to say Ethan blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “Is this… Ethan’s… body?” Stupid, what kind of question was that?

“That depends,” he replied slowly, like he was choosing his words carefully. “Is this… is this Tom?” His heart was beating unnecessarily hard.

“Uh, yeah?” Ethan let out a sigh of relief, “I'm not crazy right? Something really fucked up is going on, right?”

“Definitely.” Tom leaned forward in his seat, trying to form any sort of coherent sentence. “God, I have so many questions… I - er, how the fuck did this happen?”

“No fucking idea, god this feels like a nightmare, no offense,” Ethan whispered before he made his way to hide in a closet. “Just kinda woke up in a strange hotel room in someone else’s body. By the way, thanks for the killer hangover. I was sweating and slept the whole time I was on that plane ride dude.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “A hangover is probably nothing compared to what you were shooting up last night. Yeah, I saw those needles in your pocket. I swear to god, I thought I was high when I looked in the mirror.”

“...You mean my epipens?” Ethan wanted to laugh, this fucker really thought he'd just be shooting up in the office? Yet another reason to hate Tom Holland. “Anyway, hi nice to meet you. Ethan Nestor, professional screamer and deathly allergic to peanuts at your service.”

Tom covered his mouth. “Sorry, mate. My bad… Er, hi, I’m Tom Holland, professional actor and still very confused as to what happened to us.” Wow, he felt like an asshole.

Professional actor, what a narcissist. Professional screamer sounds way cooler anyway. Ethan laughs, “Well don't be too humble now.” Was Ethan actually salty about Tom taking pride in his work? No. Was he still salty about Bella’s googoo eyes for him? Hell fuckin’ yeah.

“Hey, my acting was able to save your ass and have a panic attack to get the day off from your job,” Tom shot back. Yes, the panic attack was real, but it did buy them some time. “If I was still at… your office place, then we wouldn’t be here trying to figure this out.”

“Well I'm not even a professional actor, and I'm able to pass as you no problem?” Ethan shot back. There's no reason for this to be happening, he should be playing nice. It's not like it's Tom’s fault this is happening, but Ethan can't help himself. “Some ‘career’ this is,” he continued, kinda regretting what he said but also kinda meaning it.

Oh god, Tom swapped lives with a grade A asshole. What did Bella see in this guy? He shook his head, trying to bring back the main focus of this conversation. “Okay, you can sit there and take jabs at me, or we can try to… switch back…? And then we’ll never have to see each other again. Take your pick.”

Ethan hesitated, he still had more to say that's for sure, but Tom was right. This wasn't getting them anywhere. “Whatever, something had to have happened at the convention to cause all this,” Ethan said with a sigh as he racked his brain for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing.

“Right,” Tom agreed. “I remember seeing you. You were with Bella when she interviewed me. Do you think something happened there?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, I didn't feel any different afterwards when I was with Bella in the bathroom… Nothing felt different until the next morning?” Ethan was stumped. The convention went about like every other convention he'd ever been to. What made this one different?

“In the bathroom?” Tom repeated with a chuckle. “Quite an eager beaver, aren’t we?”

“Oh my- no, not that way! God you British and your awful humor,” Ethan stifles a laugh as he rolls his eyes. “No, if you must know, you literally gave my girlfriend an anxiety attack and I had to calm her down in the bathroom.”

That changed things. Tom didn’t know how to react at first. He didn’t know much about anxiety attacks, even after experiencing one himself not that long ago. “Shit. I’m sorry, man. Did I say something to make her… like that?”

“Sorta, it was mostly just the whole situation? I don't know, she's fine don't worry about it. Just, careful what you say, okay? She's been through… a lot.” Ethan's face and mood dropped. He missed Bella. A lot.

An awkward silence filled the air. He wasn’t good with things like this, he didn’t know how to console people with a tragic past, if that’s what Ethan was implying about his girlfriend. “Well,” Tom began, “she seemed… relatively normal when I was with her just now. She was worried about you. Actually, you had a few people worry about you.”

Aww, they care. “Yeah, they're great…” How many awkward silences are gonna happen throughout the duration of one phone call? Ethan didn't know what else to say. Thankfully, he didn't have to.

“Tom, are you back in the closet?” Harrison called out. “Didn't think you'd be back in there again,” he joked. Shit, how did he get in? Hadn't he locked the door?

“Uh, yeah, gotta go Tom, I'll call back later?” Ethan said wondering what happened to the so called hour of a downtime he was promised.

“I - alright,” the real Tom replied, feeling the sinking sensation in his stomach. He barely made out the sound of his friend’s voice on the other line. Now, he had to go on without him for the time being.

“Ok bye,” Ethan replied. Back to the real, bizarre world.

______

tag list: @marie-is-in-the-dark @beardedsteveslut

______

next

[wildernessuntothemselves]

It Will Come Back

Third drabble from the song drabble game. You can read the first one here, the second one here and here is the BTS request list and the Girl Group request list. Song: It Will Come Back by Hozier Don’t give it a hand, offer it a soul Honey, make this easy. Leave it to the land, this is what it knows Honey, that’s how it sleeps. Don’t let me in with no intention to keep me Jesus Christ, don’t be kind to me. Honey don’t feed me I will come back. Word Count: 3k I don’t know what a drabble is apparently :’D Genre: fluffy fucking fluff and a hint of smut Author’s Note: I’m drunk so I don’t know if this is shit or not lmao sorry

Yoongi almost jumps right out of his skin when he's woken up from his barely two-hour-long sleep by something yapping and licking at his face. In his haste to get away from the thing, his legs get tangled up in the sheets and he falls to the ground, knocking his head against the nightstand. "Fuck!" He just manages to shout before a small, furry demon leaps down from the bed right into his lap. Startled, Yoongi stumbles back and hits his head against the nightstand again. He cradles his head in his hands and falls to the ground, which makes the little creature even more persistent in his pursuit of him.Through the blurriness of the pain, he squints his eyes to try to make out the exact nature of the beast he was dealing with. Brown in color, small in size, fluffy fur, and a toy form...

Yoongi pounds on the door of his next door neighbor with all his might, feeling like he might actually knock it down. Well, if he was Jungkook that is. A panicked voice stutters from behind the door, "Who is it? If you're looking for trouble then I think you should know that I have a baseball bat that I'm not afraid to use." The clearly terrified girl squeaks out then adds later as an afterthought, "I h-have also called the police." "I have your thing-- animal." Yoongi grits out, clearly irritated with the dog and his owner. She seems to have recognized his voice because the door is swung open right away. "Mr. Min, w-why do you have my dog?" She says all wide eyed and blushing. He shouldn't have come here. He should've just kicked the dog out of his house and let it fend for itself. Even if that meant it would get lost and his neighbor would cry over it. See if he cares. "I should be the one asking you why I woke up to find that ridiculous excuse for a dog slobbering all over my face." "I'm so sorry." She gasps, quickly taking the dog off his hands. If he was any other person, she would've already chewed his ears off for daring to insult her dog. But with him, she just took it and apologized to boot. "He must have slipped out the house and found an open window at your place and jumped in. He's a jumper you know." She lamely jokes, little snorts appearing in between her chuckles, but her laughter soon dies down at Yoongi's unamused expression. "I'm sorry." She says in a small voice, holding her head down. "Whatever, just make sure it never happens again," Yoongi says coldly and the girl bites her lips and dares to sneak a glance up at him before he can turn his back to her. "You're injured!" She gasps, noticing the drop of blood peeking out from under his bangs, and without thinking it over, she reaches forward and brushes them back fully exposing the wound. "Oh my god, oh my god! You're really hurt!" Yoongi winces as her voice rises in pitch until it resembles a bird's call rather than a young woman's. "It's nothing I'll take care of it." He says dismissively and turns to leave. She hurries forward and steps in his path, "No, I'm the one who caused this. Let me drive you to the hospital." "Don't be overdramatic. I said I'll take care of it." He bites, but she still doesn't let him go, holding onto his hand and looking up at him with big, pleading eyes. "Then let me do it, please." She sees a hint of hesitation in his eyes so she says again with more conviction, "Please."

Yoongi is aware of her puppy crush on him. He'd be blind not to, but she's wasting her time. Sure, she's attractive, and he certainly wouldn't mind hitting that, but that's precisely why he shouldn't. He'd be in it for a quick fuck but she obviously wants more. She isn't the type of girl who can just sleep with someone and then move on. She is too sweet and innocent for her own good. "I think it would be better if you don't put any bandages on it and leave it to dry. You need to clean it and disinfectant it the same way I've shown you twice a day, but if you can't do it, I'd be more than happy to help." She was done with his wound a long while ago, but she still kept touching him, fluttering around him and pretending to inspect and perform some minor touchups to the wound but Yoongi knew it was bullshit. When she couldn't do that anymore, she started messing with his bangs, pretending to try to pin them back so they wouldn't contaminate the wound, and that's precisely when Yoongi realized he'd been letting her. The smell of her flowery perfume had permeated into the deepest parts of his mind and cast its spell on him, ordering him to follow the smell to the space between her breasts that he just knew to be the origin of the smell, cradled by the wide neckline of her princessy sundress that he was certain she wore with no intention to arouse the desires of dirty men like him. And yet, here he was, a single thread of will power away from burying his nose into her chest. Pushing her hands away, he gets up and walks towards the door. "It's fine. I can do it myself." "Yoongi!" She follows after him again and touches his shoulder, and he whirls around to face her and snaps, "What?" She quickly drops her head to the floor and mumbles, "Mr. Min, It would really be better if you push your hair back for a while, and don't get water on the wound." Fuck, he really wanted to jump on her and fuck her right there and then. He'd teach her a lesson for teasing him with her doe eyes and her pouting lips. God, how he wants to fuck the innocence out of her until the only thing she can think of is his cock. He really needs to get out of here. Yoongi doesn't spare her even a grunt as a way of reply, leaving the poor girl not knowing whether to clutch the door to keep from falling or clutch her heart to keep it from bursting.

Despite the cold facade he'd shown her, it took only one day for his feet to lead him back to her house under the pretense of botching up his wound upkeep process. He went back for her, for the way she looked at him like he was the most wonderful man in the world, for her innocently sexy dresses and for that damned intoxicating perfume. She really should stop letting him in. He became convinced that she was a witch and that perfume was her love potion. That is the only explanation for the way he seemingly found himself in front of her door out of his body's own accord. Long after his wound has healed, he still found his way into her house, too tempted by the fact that she always let him in. He kept telling himself that he shouldn't, that he was bad news for a girl like her, and yet he found himself coming up with any flimsy reason he could to excuse his frequent visits. From baiting her dog to come into his home and then yelling to her about it, to complaining about a nonexistent noise coming from her house when in reality he was the one who was always blasting music, to the god-forsaken banal excuse of needing to borrow some sugar. Fucking sugar. He never even uses sugar. He drinks his coffee black and his tea unsweetened. He got to know her much better during that blissful time. She works in an office but she dreams of saving up enough money to go back to college and study art and philosophy. She has an overpowering sweet tooth and her fridge and pantry are overrun with all kinds of cake, chocolate and ice cream, but she has a single drawer where she hides all her salty snacks in like a guilty pleasure. Her library is full of books that once fooled him into thinking she's a bookworm but that image was banished from his mind when she bashfully admitted one afternoon that she never actually finished any of those books. She would start reading one but then get distracted by another one and abandon it only for the same thing to happen to the new one too. And day by day, he found himself impossibly more smitten with her. Her sweet smile was the highlight of his day and he swooned every time she looked his way. And before he knew it he was head over heels in love with her. Those days went by so blissfully and seeing him always made her so happy that he started getting it into his stupid head that maybe he could actually let his guard down and allow himself to be with her. That is until the moment he'd almost thrown her over his lap and spanked her for daring to bite her lip in his presence. He stopped going to her after that, despite her constant asking about what happened and the permanent glint of tears in her eyes that drowned his sorry heart every time he saw it. God help him but he was a man bewitched.

Holy fucking father in heaven! Was the world ending? That's the only explanation for the celestial-scale ruckus in his mind that could have only come from the trumpets signaling the end of times! He tries to open his eyes but immediately shuts them against the light of the sun that seems to have decided to come down from the heavens to take a stroll through the earth's atmosphere. "Sorry" A voice squeaks out then there's a flurry of movement around him and the light goes away. He hears a quiet thud on the floor in front of him then a soft hand removes his arm from over his eyes. His gaze immediately falls on those maddening doe eyes of the girl kneeling in front of him then, as if drawn by a magnetic force, they travel down over her pink lips to the swell of her breasts shown by the uncharacteristically plunging neckline. He groans. Does she not realize the pull she has on him? Does she not know of the sickness of men's minds? Is she deliberately trying to drive him crazy? Because it's working. He feels her hands on him again and he curls up deeper into himself. Why can't she just go away? But she doesn't go away, instead she shoves him back with surprising strength until he's on his back then she straddles him before he can recover from the shock and turn around again. "Get off," Yoongi warns, voice raspy from the weight of her hips on his own. God, he's going to break. "No." "Listen to me or you'll regret it, baby girl." She shivers at the pet name, "Why? Because if I don't, if maybe I start moving my hips like this," She enunciated her words with little tentative grinds against his crotch, "You won't be able to hold back anymore and you'll fuck me until the only thing I can think of is your cock?" Yoongi was in a state of shock at her words and actions. He puts his hands around her waist in a belated attempt to stop her movements that were making him so hard, but he finds that his hands would rather help her instead. "How..." "You're very honest when you're drunk." Fuck him. His memory comes back to him in bits and pieces. A picture of him discreetly pining after his sweet neighbor from his window. Him throwing on the nearest shirt and pants to escape to a bar and try to get the image of himself sitting on the couch beside her out of his mind, the image of letting her hold onto his arm and cuddle up to him as he sees her on another one of her infernal horror movie marathons, clutching onto her toy dog for dear life. He'd do a much better job than that ridiculous dog. The next picture is of him dancing with some woman in the bar, them making out, her asking him where he lives, him suddenly bombarded by the look of absolute heartbreak his oblivious siren regards him with whenever she sees him bring another woman home, and somehow she always sees. Him running out of the bar and hailing a cab home. Him beating down on her door, shouting for her to stop messing with his mind. Her opening her door, looking alarmed and entirely too fuckable in her large t-shirt that almost entirely hid the shorts under it, but of course, she would wear shorts, his innocent girl. No, fuck, not his girl. He cringes hard as he remembers the monolog he launched on about how everything she does makes him hard and how badly he wants to fuck her until she weeps and apologizes for the countless times she made him jack off like a hormonal teenager to relieve himself of her. "You want me, Yoongi. You can't deny it anymore." Her words are brave but her voice isn't, and neither is her movement as she lifts her hands and removes the dress she's wearing. When did she change into that anyway? He was sure it was to seduce him, so is the makeup on the normally barefaced girl. Dark makeup, he notes. She must have taken the looks of the girls he normally brings home too much to heart. The bra and underwear she was wearing underneath her dress were another thing entirely. Pink lacy things with a strip of pink material covered in glitter running around the lower part of the bra and the upper part of the panties. Fuck it. He pulls her down and crashes his lips to hers, immediately tasting an explosion of strawberries. Any illusion of bravery she put on immediately leaves her body along with her strength and she becomes putty in his hands. He turns her around on the couch so that she's the one under and he's hovering above her. The distance between their bodies doesn't exist for long as his hips soon find their place between her legs, and he grinds on her harder than before.

His hand moves to the strap of her bra and he pulls it back a little then releases it, causing it to snap against her shoulder and her to moan out even louder than she already was. God, she looks like a princess but she sounds like a pornstar. He never even knew girls like her existed. He was going to lose his mind.

He contemplates taking off her bra and seeing her breasts in their full glory but the innocent sexiness of her little lingerie fits her so well that he eventually decides to leave it on, and touch her over the lacy material instead. Turns out, that only adds to the pleasure for her. The combination of his fingers and the lace rubbing against her nipples sending her senses into overdrive.

He's a bit taken aback by how little she's touching him. He wouldn't have pegged her for a selfish lover considering how generous and loving she is with everything else. No matter, she's his princess and he'll wait on her hand and foot. He couldn't wait anymore. His hand travels down to her pussy and gives her an experimental stroke over her panties. Her reaction is almost violent as she mewls and lies witless in his arms, which only fuels his madness further and before he knows it, he's prodding at her entrance, dying to feel how tight she is. Too tight. He jumps away when he feels resistance against his fingers and a sob escaping her. "You're a virgin?!" He meant for it to sound bewildered but it must have come across as condescending to her because the lust escapes her eyes and she wraps her arms around herself. "Yes. I know you don't like that. You like your women experienced and bold. I've seen them, but I can get better." She looks at him with fragile hope and he feels like throwing up. "No! You're fucking perfect. Look at you! Don't ever say that again." Again his tone betrays him and he sounds angry without meaning too. But he is angry! Angry that she'd ever doubt how much he wants her. She has him losing sleep over her for fuck's sake. She struggles to unwrap her arms from around herself, too timid to lose the imaginary protection, and moves closer to him, hands resting awkwardly on his chest. "If you really think so, then fuck me." "But you're a virgin!" "So what? Everyone is a virgin once." She childishly counters, taking her hands off of him and putting them in their original spot around herself. This time it's Yoongi's hands that cup her cheeks, "I know. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you being a virgin. I just don't want you to lose it to a burn out like me." She forgets about her anger in a second and rushes to comfort him like she always does, "Now, you don't say that. You're a wonderful man with a wonderful heart and I'd love for my first time to be with you." "Baby..." He begins to chastise her again but stops when he sees the familiar wet glint of her eyes, and an idea pops into his mind out of nowhere. "How about we postpone it a little bit. Say after a few dates?" In a fraction of a second her head shoots up and in another fraction a dazzling smile lights up her entire face, leaving no trace of any previous sadness. "Y-you'll go out with me?" He curses himself. Why the fuck did he have to suggest something so stupid? He's smarter than this. This could only end one way: with her wizening up to who he really was and dropping him, and him dying a swift death from acute loss of his sunshine. But it was too late to take it back, he could never say no to that smile. "Yes."

Author’s Note: Thank you all for the lovely feedback. I’ve gotten a lot of messages asking about a continuation for this but unfortunately, this is only a one-parter and there will be no further addition to this. 

[ultraspideysense-blog]

In Dire Need of a Tutor (Peter Parker Imagine)

request: nope just an idea i had off the dome last week

short summary: you need a tutor for AP Physics…Peter Parker is your boy for the job. stuff happens from there LOL

word count: 1.8k

warnings: a little swearing but idk if people got a problem w that *shrugs*

A/N: lowkey not sure if anyone will like this lmao but this is going to be a 3 or 4 part series, so this first part is primarily to set the stage for the next part, which will have a larger focus on peter himself. if you’d liked to be tagged in future parts or my works in general pls lmk!

“Jesus Christ, Flash, you’re so full of yourself!” you exclaimed as you quickly gathered your notebook and shoved it in your backpack. You were beyond frustrated and infuriated.

AP Physics wasn’t your strong suit, but you’d be damned if you didn’t ace both the class and its subsequent AP exam. The more you worked, the more hopeless your quest to find a tutor seemed to become. Your friend MJ tried first and it didn’t work out. Then you had tried Flash when he had offered. He wasn’t exactly the ideal person you had in mind, but you were desperate. Too desperate.

“At least I’m not as hopeless as you, how do you not understand the most basic of formulas? You’ll need a goddamn miracle to pass this exam,” he replied arrogantly. You simply showed him the finger and exited the empty classroom he’d been tutoring you in. There were still a good 5 minutes left of lunch and you were in dire need of some junk food from one of the vending machines.

As you opened the door, you collided with another person, with the contents of your backpack flying everywhere. Textbooks, notebooks, pens, everything.

“Shit,” you both exclaimed simultaneously. “This day could not get any worse,” you muttered to yourself with a humorless laugh as you bent over to collect your things.

“I-I’m really sorry,” said the boy you’d run into. He knelt down next to you and was hurriedly gathering your things. Taking a quick glance up at him, you recognized him from somewhere, but couldn’t place which class.

“No, it was my fault,” you replied softly. “You don’t have to help me, it’s totally fine—“ you stopped mid-sentence as he handed you your latest Physics test that had fallen out of your bag, a big fat D+ adorning the upper right corner of the paper.  You felt your cheeks redden as you slowly took it back.

The two of you worked in silence until all of your things were gathered off of the linoleum floor of the hallway. Getting up and brushing your knees off, you were still slightly embarrassed he’d seen the test that you’d bombed.

“Thank you, uhm,” you paused, not really know his name.

“Peter…Parker. Peter Parker,” he introduced quietly, not quite meeting your eyes. They were looking down at the floor actually.

��Right..well thank you Peter. I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you held out your hand for him to shake.

“I know, we have AP Physics together,” Peter stated. His cheeks reddened and his eyes widened as he continued, “I think, I mean I don’t know for sure.” He then quickly took your outstretched hand to shake.

You looked him over for a brief moment. Messy dark hair, but kind brown eyes. His t-shirt was a physics joke that, of course, you didn’t understand. But recognition slowly made its way into your features as your eyes widened.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, we do have physics together,” you exclaimed sheepishly. He shrugged it off nervously.

“It’s okay, I’m kind of invisible,” Peter replied quietly. After a few more brief moments he extracted his hand from yours and handed you your backpack. As you were about to shuffle away awkwardly he grabbed your arm.

“I could maybe…tutor you in Physics if you want? I kind of overheard your situation with Flash and it looks like you need help.” You could tell he was referencing the abomination of a test he had seen while helping you clean up. His eyes widened again. “Not that you’re stupid or anything, quite the opposite, I just, uh,” he stammered. You smiled at him.

“No I completely get it, I’m desperate for help honestly. Would you mind tutoring me, Peter?” you asked sweetly. If you recalled correctly, he was quite smart, and never got an answer wrong when the teacher would call on him in class.

“Sure, okay,” he said, sounding a bit breathless. You thanked the Gods above and prayed that he would be able to help you pass.

Before you could give a response, the bell rang signaling the end of lunch. Quickly grabbing a pen from your backpack and Peter’s arm, you scrawled your number on his arm. Students started to fill up the hallways, walking towards their next classes.

“Text and let me know what times work best for you, I’m pretty much free all the time, bye Peter!” you called as you scurried off to your next class, leaving him staring at his arm with a dumbfounded look on his face.

~2 weeks later~

Peter had been tutoring you late in the evenings after his Stark Internship, which worked out since you two lived in the same building, him being two floors up from your apartment. And, you were actually starting to understand physics. There was another test tomorrow, and tonight Peter was supposed to help you do some last minute cramming.

You couldn’t help but notice how nervous he seemed every time you were over at his apartment, or how often he would blush when you’d scoot closer to him to get a better look at a problem or concept. Any time that your shoulders would brush you’d see him visibly stiffen or jump a little bit. You considered questioning him on it, but thought that maybe he’d quit tutoring you if you did. And lord knows you couldn’t afford for that to happen.

He’d told you in school earlier that day he might be a bit late, but you still made your way up to his apartment anyway and knocked on the door. His Aunt May opened the door and smiled when she saw it was you.

“Y/N! Is Peter expecting you?” she inquired as she gestured you in. Every time you were over in the past few weeks she was nothing but warm and nice to you, and unbeknownst to you shooting Peter suggestive glances every time he led you to his room for a tutoring session.

“Yeah, we have a test tomorrow, so we’re planning on some last minute cramming so I can actually retain this information,” you joked lightly. May gave you a reassuring pat on the back.

“With Peter’s help I’m sure you’ll definitely ace it. That boy’s as smart as they come, and cute too,” she replied with a wink. You blushed.

“Definitely true.” You didn’t specify which of her statements you were agreeing with, and she didn’t ask. Instead, she mentioned you were free to wait for Peter in his room and to help yourself to anything in the kitchen before retreating to her own bedroom.  

You opted to just take a glass of water and made your way to Peter’s room, taking a seat on his bed and pulling out some study materials. Though, about 20 minutes later while deep into a multi-step pendulum problem, the window slowly started creeping open. You froze, not knowing what to do or how to react to the situation and waited to see what would unfold.

A figure slowly came in and started climbing on the ceiling…climbing on the ceiling!! You threw your hand over your mouth when realizing that none other than Spider-Man was crawling on the fucking ceiling. His mask was off and your heart raced with anticipation as you craned your neck to get a clear look at the face.

As the figure looked down and outstretched their arm to slowly close the slightly open door, it hit you like a truck: it was Peter Parker, Peter fucking Parker was the Spider-Man. In shock with a million questions running through your head, Peter finally saw you as he made his descent to the floor, shock painting his features perfectly. After 30 seconds of silence you were the first to speak.

“What the fuck, you’re Spider-Man? How do you? Why do you?” your mouth kept opening and closing as more and more questions popped into your head. You got up off of his bed and started pacing around the room, slightly annoyed and extremely confused. “Do you even have anything to say or are you just going to stand there and ignore my questions?” you all but yelled. Peter finally sprung into action throwing a hand over your mouth, realizing the severity of the situation.

“Y/N please calm down, don’t hate me just let me explain, okay, just hear me out? Please?” he begged. He started making some hardcore puppy dog eyes at you and your annoyance began to falter. You removed his hand from your mouth and once again sat on his bed, taking a deep breath. “Fine, you have 60 seconds before I start freaking out again,” you said dramatically.

Honestly inside you knew that there was no reason for you to be this worked up, you’d only known Peter almost two weeks now. But you were just…scared for him. You brushed it off as normal human compassion as he took off his Spider-Man suit.

As he changed into some normal clothes it took everything in you to look away as he revealed his rock hard abs, you wouldn’t be surprised if your cheeks were insanely red. Heaving a sigh he sat next to you on his bed, his knee bouncing up and down nervously.

“I am…Spider-Man,” he started slowly. Yeah no shit Sherlock, you thought to yourself. But didn’t dare interrupt. 

“I got bit by a spider a while ago and I developed all these super human powers and it just sort of turned into this big thing, and pretty much every day I work hard to protect everyone in Queens and just be this friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man and I know I tell everyone I have this big Stark internship but it’s just I can’t tell people about this, not even Aunt May or else she wouldn’t let me do this anymore, and I just have to do this. I can’t just have these powers to help and look out for people and neglect to use them. And I’m so sorry about lying to you but it’s just…I couldn’t risk it. I really couldn’t,” he rushed out in one single breath.

You could see slight relief in his features as everything in his mind came out of his mouth. You felt for him a little bit, evidently having nobody to confide in about this major secret in his life. Before you could formulate a response you saw tears forming in his eyes.

“Oh, Peter,” you replied softly, pulling him into a hug. “Please stop crying, it’s okay, I’m not mad at you, you’re okay.” He was sniffling against your shoulder with his arms wrapped around your waist, as you stroked one of your hands through his hair. “Your secret’s safe with me, I promise.”

After a few minutes he had composed himself and looked at you deeply. “Thank you, Y/N.” You felt a shiver run down your spine at how genuine he sounded…but in a good way. Brushing it off, you wiped a few stray tears off of his cheeks.

“So…you actually know Tony Stark?” you asked, trying to change the mood. He laughed a little bit, causing you to laugh too. And the two of you spent the rest of the night talking about his Spider-Man lifestyle instead of studying.

[sleepymarmot]

DS9 season 6

[Season index: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 PS]

Here I get angrier and discourse-y

A Time to Stand

The Garak/Bashir scene (finally)... and Bashir looking like this... I feel blessed

when he talks about his “boyish smile” but cannot smile at all. that hit hard

aw Worf/Jadzia!

the Terok Nor dynamics are fascinating. I'm very impressed by Kira's willpower...

jesus fucking christ the Dukat/Kira scene :O D: 😨

why is Bashir doing mental calculations now, he's not Data

Rocks and Shoals

Kira's storyline about being self-conscious about collaborationism is great. In the previous episode we saw her trapped and vulnerable, especially in the viscerally horrifying scene with Dukat, and now we realize along with Kira herself that all of that is having it good.

Sons and Daughters

how did Sisko send a signal that Martok heard but the Jem'Hadar didn't?

Alexander lived on the Enterprise because Worf's parents were incapable of raising him anymore... I guess that was so inconvenient for the DS9 writers they decided to just ignore it instead of at least trying to invent an excuse.

"But the last time you defied him, he left you here to die!" "We talked about that. He admits he overreacted" bwahaha

Oh Alexander, so much secondhand embarrassment...

god, he gave her a dress, eww

oh my god, and he immediately re-gifts it to his own daughter, what a jerk

accepting Worf into the house of Martok involved much less ceremony...

why doesn't this episode address Alexander's age? did the writers assume, again, we didn't watch TNG? they could have said something about his grandparents protesting because he's about ten years old. something about Klingon children growing up very fast, and humans disapproving of child soldiers.

I don't understand how Ziyal can be so naive. Sure, she's kept unaware of the creepy sexual aspect of Dukat's advances (though I was waiting for Kira to snap and finally say "Your father keeps hitting on me, please don't force me to be in the same room with him"), but surely she must see why Kira finds his company uncomfortable and inappropriate! I do like that Ziyal is on his side again. And I enjoy seeing the continuation of Kira's storyline where she has to walk the line between keeping a polite facade and staying true to herself, gets too used to engaging Dukat&co on their own terms and has to take a step back to reassert herself.

Behind the Lines

Wait, if the Romulans have signed a non-aggression pact with the Dominion, why do they still allow Starfleet to use their cloaking device against it?

I've already been concerned about their open discussions of resistance activities, but a Founder's presence on the station makes it even worse! Sure, discuss your plans over a bar table that might well be a changeling...

Odo, for fuck's sake, she's going to learn all about the resistance from you...

"She didn't find out about the resistance, if that's why you're worried" in the same scene: "If she had some hidden motive, I would have sensed it"

Odo!.. >:(

Captain Dax!

Do the Cardassians still have the truth serum? If no, it's a giant plot hole; if yes, things are looking really bad...

Favor the Bold

oh god ewwwwww

why is Leeta making that noise

haha you go Kira

"We are way, way past sorry" good. unforgiving Kira is the best Kira

Odo's longing for his kind works so much better when the Founders are not on screen -- the things they actually say are so boring, one-dimensional and unconvincing... Though I find interesting that Odo's storyline mirrors Kira's in this arc: the female changeling manages to seduce him while Dukat fails to do the same to Kira.

Sacrifice of Angels

"DAMAR: I doubt he was working alone when he tried to sabotage the station. He must've had help. His wife Leeta, Jake Sisko, Major Kira. DUKAT: What are you proposing? DAMAR: That we arrest them. Keep them in custody, at least until the wormhole is reopened." Finally someone wakes up! I was expecting them to do this an episode ago...

"War is such thirsty work. Don't you agree?" "Perhaps if you didn't talk so much, your throat wouldn't get so dry."

Oh look! He's actually pretty shocked by the suggestion to "eradicate [an entire planet's] population"! Even this guy has standards.

"A true victory is to make your enemy see they were wrong to oppose you in the first place. To force them to acknowledge your greatness" classic Dukat. this is his ideology in a nutshell

"Then you kill them?" I'm loving the discussion of the differences between the Cardassian and Dominion approach

"Perhaps the biggest disappointment in my life is that the Bajoran people still refuse to appreciate how lucky they were to have me as their liberator. I protected them in so many ways, cared for them as if they were my own children. But to this day, is there a single statue of me on Bajor?" how is it possible to be so deluded?! fucking incredible

"Link with me, Odo. Embrace the clarity" EMBRACE ETERNITY

Where's the Enterprise during all these battles?

haha Quark & Ziyal make a great team

"The only reason they haven't killed me yet is that I'm part of their victory celebration. Seven o'clock, Dukat makes a speech. Eight thirty, cake and raktajino. Eight forty five, execute the Ferengi"

holy crap, they actually detonated the minefield! I didn't expect that

LITERALLY DEUS EX MACHINA

(I'm beginning to think this is a predestination paradox and the wormhole aliens started taking care of the Bajorans throughout history because Sisko told them to...)

Shit, I thought Dukat was about to snap and kill her, but it's even worse

I didn't expect to feel sympathy for Dukat ever again after those scenes with Kira, but this show played me again. I guess he'll completely lose it now?

Did you really had to remind us that the trainwreck that was Garak/Ziyal existed?

Wait, please tell me this isn't Dukat's last appearance and he's not about to spend the last 1,5 seasons in an asylum?

You are Cordially Invited

Why does this Klingon woman have human teeth?

Ah yes, Jadzia is too proud and independent and should follow her fiance's totally reasonable suggestion to humiliate herself to fit better in his culture. fuck you

Resurrection

am I supposed to recognize this guy?

oh no it's a Mirror episode

I... don't... care...

ugh, her again

I wish I just fast-forwarded this episode

Statistical Probabilities

How did I know from the title that this is a Bashir episode...

lol my dude when Bashir gets his look on his face you know you're fucked

I can't believe Miles pretended to have work just so he could be in the same room as Julian... romance is not dead

Don't know what to think about this episode. There are some good conversations about ableism and intelligence, but that set of stereotypes and assumptions... It's like the final Sherlock episode. And it was implausible when they could read Damar so well in the first place. And the long-term predictions are a million times worse! Do they include variables like "wormhole aliens destroy the entire enemy fleet because Sisko asked nicely"?

Plus I don't like how this season portrays Bashir's enhanced intelligence... I thought he was just made smarter than average, not make mental calculations at the same speed as Data... Where did that come from. Why.

The Magnificent Ferengi

"May I help you, gentlemen?" lmao

"Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to take a nap."

"By the time the Dominion is done with you, all you'll want is a quick death." I love his serene tone haha

This was hilarious :D I really like this show's ventures into black comedy! Also Keevan looks exactly like Orlando Bloom and it cracks me up.

Waltz

Dukat's career has been through a lot of ups and downs over the seasons, and this is the lowest point ever that brings a new dynamic: Dukat so powerless that Sisko can afford to feel pity for him. I'm glad Dukat seems sane.

"A bottle of kanar and an Orion slave girl would be nice" ew

oh, so he has hallucinations. oh well.

"From this day forward, Bajor is dead. All of Bajor" Ouch. Sisko, I think you made it worse... I might have used the same rhetoric in Sisko's place, but damn, his final statement about Dukat's evilness rings pretty hollow since it was him who dragged "kill all Bajorans" out of Dukat's subconsciousness into the light. Like, I understand, when you're injured and trapped with an armed crazy fascist who tries to force you to praise him, you'd want at least the final satisfaction of telling what you think about him to his face, in no way I blame you for it... But if someone is mentally unstable and obsessed with proving to you he's a good person, and you reject it and instead goad him into exposing and accepting his darker motivations -- then don't say he is irredeemably evil? I can see how Sisko's rhetoric could have worked as reverse psychology -- his opponent would have started the speech about killing everyone, heard himself, stopped in horror and realized the error of his ways -- but Dukat didn't have enough self-awareness for that even in better times, and certainly not now. This was just giving your enemy ideas. Nice job breaking it, hero! When Dukat sabotaged his own redemption arc by joining the Dominion, it was beautiful, but when someone else does it to him... Idk, I usually like the Batman/Joker dynamic where the bad guy is obsessed with the protagonist and defines himself in opposition to him, but I'm not sure how well it works here... On the other hand, it has been a part of Dukat's character that he has an almost fourth wall breaking awareness of his role in the story as a likeable complex antagonist, so there is some poetic sense that he turns to straight-up villainy when someone convinces him that is the better role for him and he decides to live up to it. 

The sad thing is, except that strange last scene, I was absolutely with Sisko the entire episode. And contrary to his words at the end, I found it an excellent example of grey morality. I've talked about it a couple of seasons ago -- allowing the antagonist to plead his case and then explaining why he's still wrong -- and this episode dedicates a lot of time to this. We've basically already heard Dukat's self-justifications, but learning what exactly was his role during the occupation and what he has done differently that made him think he was so much better than the other Cardassians -- that's something I've wanted since the beginning of the show. Cardassians are my favourite part of the show because of their messed up ideology, and Dukat is the one character who keeps talking about it, which is why he's so interesting for me. (Initially, heavy focus on ideology was what I expected from Garak and his character arc, which is one of the reasons I was disappointed in them.) It's great how he gives a lengthy speech that does make him sound pretty reasonable and sympathetic for a minute, and then with a single line Sisko breaks the spell and makes him reveal the ugly racism under it all, the reason why Dukat is deeply wrong despite any good intentions: "From the moment we arrived on Bajor, it was clear that we were the superior race. But they couldn't accept that. They wanted to be treated as equals when they most certainly were not". But, honestly, this isn't exactly news. Dukat's always been a racist, a victim-blamer, an egomaniac, an opportunist, and this episode doesn't even touch the issue of Bajoran women. So in this episode, he says pretty much the same things as when he played a "morally grey" role, but now that suddenly means he's "not morally grey"? Because of some bat-swinging during a psychotic episode, and a final villainous speech based on an idea fed to him by Sisko? He's responsible for a genocide, that's bad enough -- you don't need to start blaming him for things he's not fully responsible for! One of my favourite things about Dukat is that his crimes mostly happened offscreen, before the events of the show, so his presence on screen was sort of a test of integrity for both other character and viewers -- can you still tell right from wrong without a visceral reaction to violence and suffering happening right now before your very eyes? The characters have always passed that test; but now, regrettably, the writers decided that the viewers cannot. At the beginning of the episode he's a war criminal half-mad from loss, and Sisko feels sorry for him; at the end of the episode he's a war criminal completely mad from loss, and Sisko thinks he's evil. I guess, this might be interpreted just as Sisko's version of Kira's stories at the beginning of the season, where she briefly forgets how much she hates Dukat, and by the end of the episode he gives her a reason to hate him even more. I guess it comes down to the first line in this liveblog that I wrote during the first minutes of the episode: when the enemy is neutralised, we can afford to feel sympathy for them, but as soon as they start posing real danger, compassion goes out of the window and our first priority is to stop them. Except, of course, that works for any enemy, they don't have to be "truly evil"... So my complaint about that line still stands. Besides, it really deflated the drama; five minutes ago we had Dukat delivering his mad king's speech with the Shakespearean levels of gravitas, and now Sisko almost looks in the camera and summarizes his experience with the dramatic equivalent of "That's as many of four tens. And that's terrible."

Alright, let's try to stop raging about the dumb final scene and say something about the actual episode... I wish this was a real courtroom episode without the madness -- but the imaginary Weyoun, Damar and Kira's arguments were very well done. Their opinions sounded authentic while the delivery was distorted by Dukat's point of view. Just look at the imaginary Kira draping herself sensually over everything... :D

Dukat has a special talent for making me feel terribly guilty. You know the parts from his final monologue about Bajoran "superstitions", how they "clustered in their temples and prayed for deliverance"? Well, as I dislike the episodes about Bajoran religion I kinda see where he's coming from, and now I feel like a Nazi...

Idk how I'd fix this episode. 

I'd like to throw out the mental illness altogether but then half of the episode stops working. 

If I couldn't invent a completely different ending, I'd throw out the final scene, letting Dukat's actions speak for themselves. 

Or there would be a final scene, but similar in tone to "The Ship", where Sisko'd be like "Whoops..." and also traumatised by the experience. 

Or, if it were absolutely necessary to state the moral of the story and remind the viewers that Dukat is Bad(tm), maybe he'd say something like "Yes, I gave him the idea, but everyone is responsible for his own actions, and blaming everyone but himself is what he wants and does, so I'm not going to". 

Maybe I'd end the episode with Sisko killing Dukat and the final scene being like "Generally I value life but you know what? No regrets". (Of course the best outcome would be if Kira killed Dukat but I've already been informed it won't happen.) 

tl;dr: There are some impressive scenes, lines and acting, but the episode is deeply compromised by its general intent, mental illness excuse and the final scene.

Who Mourns for Morn

Not the best Quark episode... Gags about Morn don't work for me because the prosthetic is so bulky the actor can barely move in it, let alone make facial expressions, and it's impossible to believe that guy becomes talkative, charming and athletic as soon as the cameras stop pointing at him.

Far Beyond the Stars

Finally, a classic episode that lives up to its reputation -- and an AU that's good enough that it does not require an explanation. (The Prophets... made an elaborate simulation of 20th century Earth... to inspire Sisko to fight on? Okay.) I feel that somehow this is the best story about Sisko as the Emissary so far, even though -- or maybe because -- it was only discussed indirectly. It works as a history episode, as an AU episode, as an issue episode, as a meta episode about Star Trek itself...

I'm a bit confused by not-Bashir's role as one of the white writers who just don't get it -- just another reminder of how little I understand the concept of race... I've never thought of him as white -- would he be, by 1950's standards? I get that the episode is specifically about antiblackness, but they did mention sexism against not-Kira, so why not him?

I tried hard and failed to recognize the artist -- turns out, it was Martok! I'd never guess...

I'm darkly amused at Odo as conservative, contemptible half-antagonist again (similar to the roles he played during both occupations and in Mirror universe). His conflict with not-Quark is still recognizable, not just superficially imitated without any of the substance (remember when Quark called Odo a fascist?).

Similarly, I almost laughed when Dukat and Weyoun showed up as racist cops -- just in case you somehow still aren't drawing parallels to the current events, the show does it for you... How sad it is though: a show filmed in 1990s about the 24th century remembering the 1950s looks like an immediate reaction to the news reports of today...  

It was a pleasure to see Kasidy in both worlds! I've missed her. She's such a likeable person, and has effortless chemistry with Sisko (and Benny).

Joseph was great, a beautiful variation on his role in Homefront/Paradise Lost.

I was impressed to learn afterwards that the writers all had real prototypes. So they’re based on a group of real people and group of fictional character at the same time, and both sets of influences are recognizable. That’s incredible. 

One Little Ship

"I love it. Let's go"

more enjoyable than I expected

Honor Among Thieves

ooh nice scenery

this is the kind of story I find hard to watch both because it's painful to wait for something terrible to happen, and because it's not very captivating

Change of Heart

ah yes, Bashir learned all the rules from half a second glance *eyeroll*

this is season freaking 6!!! you told us two seasons ago that Julian's crush on Jadzia is dead! what the fuck?

moral of the story: don't send married couples on dangerous missions toge -- wait, as I was typing, Sisko said the exact same thing lol

why are all Jadzia/Worf episodes so bad. why are all Jadzia episodes so bad. is this a conspiracy?! why is her every episode about almost dying? you know, at this point I'm kinda looking forward to it happening for real.

Wrongs Darker than Death or Night

What, you can easily travel back in time? Just like that?

I didn't expect this show to actually use the term "comfort women"!

Kira looks like she needs a bucket to vomit in... I may need one too...

*Dukat kisses Meru* *mine and Kira's vomiting intensifies*

let me guess, the episode will end with Kira realizing that "my mother deserves death for having Stockholm syndrome" was a bit too harsh

"Kira and collaborationism" is one of my favourite themes in this show istg

"Believe me, there's a part of me that wishes that I hadn't. But the fact is, no matter what she did, she was still my mother" I actually wanted to Kira to go through with the assassination! But then it'd create a different timeline and the episode wasn't about that. 

ok, I spoiled myself about Dukat/Meru so it lost the shock value, and I can see that it's incredibly contrived, but on the other hand it somehow managed to make Dukat's harassment towards Kira even more gross and creepy which is impressive

I have so many technical questions though. If Bajor has a freaking time machine why is no one using it in the war? Why is the Dominion not trying to get its hands on it? Why does it work differently than in "Tribbles"? Is it a closed time loop or alternate timeline? -- at the start of the episode, have Meru and Dukat met the time-travelling Kira or not? Dukat said he was the Prefect only for ten years but in this episode young Nerys looks about four and she certainly isn't a teenager at the end of the occupation -- how does all of that add up? Wait, if Ziyal was 13 by the end of the occupation, it would make more sense if Dukat was in charge for about 20 years and, roughly speaking, spent seven of them with Meru (as said in this episode) and thirteen with Naprem, and the line in "Waltz" is a continuity error -- but putting it this way sounds more wholesome than he deserves, since from the words of that one dude in this episode and a scene in "Things Past" I got the impression that those unfortunate Bajoran women passed through his quarters at a much faster rate...

btw remember when I was hoping that Dukat's mentions of his children to Sisko were intentional manipulation? now I'm pretty sure they were.

wow, TvTropes: "The episode itself... which is rather a letdown. With such a name, you'd expect some sort of horrible atrocity to be happening" -- you mean, MASS SEX SLAVERY, long-term psychological manipulation, prostituting oneself to a tyrant and learning to like it, and planning the murder of one's own mother -- these things are not horrible enough??? who tf wrote that entry

(btw, kudos to this episode for handling these heavy topics without going the exploitative shock value route like "Violations" that actually showed rape scenes on screen.)

also someone mentioned that Terok Nor is very brightly lit and now I can't get it out of my mind... why, set designers, why...

Something I liked: in the opening scene Dukat says: "Captain Sisko gave me the clarity to see beyond the lies, the self-deceptions that were controlling my life. He helped me see to the truth about myself. And now I'm going to do the same for you." And that's what happens indeed, even if not exactly in the way he might have intended. Sisko made him acknowledge the violence under the pretty words and justifications, and now we get to see the ugly true face of what Dukat calls -- and genuinely believes to be -- "love".

Inquisition

"Why would the Dominion leave your runabout orbiting the camp" well I'm glad the writers are aware of their plotholes... :D

"Captain, if Doctor Bashir had been involved in one or two questionable incidents, I could understand how you might be able to dismiss it, but the sheer number of incidents form a pattern of behaviour that can't be ignored" you could say that about literally any of the main characters lmao... every episode of any Star Trek series contains a questionable incident plot twist?? let me guess, it's set up by Sloan to make him confess

Second Skin 2

"And because you didn't want billions of Federation citizens to lose their lives needlessly, you agreed to provide us with information that would help us end this war quickly" heh, nice use of Statistical Probabilities

oh wow, Weyoun and his ship are actually real! I didn't expect that

the DS9 crew are all acting so strange, I guess they're part of the simulation too

"I admit it takes exceptional people to do what we do. People who can sublimate their own ambitions to the best interests of the Federation" heh, is this the final test?

wait, they kidnapped him THAT early? Bashir really should stop going to medical conferences...

this episode was pretty predictable after so many similar stories, but I do like these types of episodes, and this one utilised well the long-running themes of Bashir and secret service, and Bashir's idealism. And he got to join the club with Data, Riker, Picard, Dax, O'Brien, Worf -- am I forgetting anyone? Oh, right, Wesley -- that was one of my favourite episodes, actually... Oh, and I just rewatched the scene is the beginning where Bashir wakes up tired in the simulation for the first time, and remembered that episode of TNG where Riker kept losing sleep because aliens kidnapped him every night.

In the Pale Moonlight

Garak saves the day! I'm glad to see him live up to his reputation.

Actually, I don't think the plan was THAT immoral. Especially how it turned out in the end. The worst part was the danger to the Federation in case the forgery was discovered, but Garak took care of that. So ultimately, my only regret would be the use of that biomimetic gel in the clearly wrong hands. Call me cynical, but I fully agree with Garak that the price they paid was very small. Sure, for a Starfleet officer all of that must feel very dishonorable, but I'm sure the secret services of all major powers in the galaxy pull this kind of crap and worse on a fairly regular basis.* Hell, I think what Sisko himself did to apprehend Eddington was worse by my standards! And how is bribing Quark worse than blackmailing him, which Sisko has been doing literally since the pilot?! I think his guilt would have worked better for me if the plan failed and all of that were for nothing. 

* Actually, why WAS Sisko the one doing this? And not someone like the just-introduced Section 31?

On a less serious note, I love that Sisko isn't satisfied with the recording until someone talks shit about Dukat :D then he's like "mmm perfect"

I feel obligated to mention the quality of writing and directing! And the wonderful ambiguity of the final "I can live with it" -- I love things like this.

His Way

let me get this straight, Julian got rejected three times by the same woman but she started dating him after he asked a hologram for advice?? wtf. Miles is surprised by the latter part but I'm more concerned about "Bashir is repeatedly rejected and refuses to stop pursuing a woman" (what is this, season 1???! between that and the mention of his crush on Dax several episodes ago, certainly feels like that, and not in a good way) and also about "Bashir dates a woman offscreen because the relationship is so shallow it's apparently not worth showing but we need to remind the viewers he's Straight"

"Is that the best you can do?" "I'd like to see someone do better." "So would I."

"You're not exactly the most lovable person in the galaxy. You're not even the most lovable person in this sector, or on the station. Or even in this room"

how many of those dumbass songs must I endure?

I'm really bored...

ughhh this is embarrassing

and THIS is creepy

(at least Odo is better than Barclay and backs off...)

he can just go to any other holosuite and interrupt whatever people are doing in there? D:

oh god, he can also use the station's com line?! SOMEONE DELETE THIS PROGRAM IT'S GETTING REALLY SCARY

kill me. or kill this episode with fire

ughhhh it's finally over bye. the scene with Quark was very good, but the rest... how come Kira and Odo by themselves are probably the most interesting characters but their romance is this utter dreck?

The Reckoning

why doesn't the universal translator work here?

how did the wormhole animals get here, anyway?

(I’m keeping this typo lmao)

for once, Winn is absolutely right!!

did he actually break it?.. this is not a dream?.. Winn won't be pleased

it's episodes like this when I miss TNG, and Picard's total refusal to treat Q like a god

this is getting stupider and stupider...

take a shot every time Sisko claims to know something 

you know your story is bad when Winn is the most, and probably only sympathetic character in it (and Kira spends the entire final scene talking how bad Winn is? what?) Winn is being rational and ends up saving lives while Sisko keeps justifying his shitty actions with weak babbling about how "The Prophets want this, they work in mysterious ways" -- have they switched bodies while I wasn't looking?!

Valiant

Jake has a nice stylish outfit

That's strange... Why didn't they return to the Federation space after the war began? Will that be the point of the episode -- that they continued the mission on their own out of sheer hubris?

so this poor girl and the others spend months trapped on a tiny ship inside enemy territory because that guy wants to feel adult and important and likes to play captain?

so, they finally found one specific battleship they had been looking for for 8 months? and it happened the next day after Jake and Nog come on board? is that just because Nog adjusted the warp drive?

dude! your job was to gather info! if that battleship kills you, you fail!

The First Duty 2

...but a lot more bloody D:

this episode was better than I expected

Profit and Lace

aaaalright, here we go, let's see if this really is the Worst Episode Ever

why is Ishka wearing clothes that accentuate her breasts? the clothes in the previous episodes were so baggy I assumed that Ferengi women don't have boobs

"...brilliant Ferengi female. Do you know any?" I suppose Pel wouldn't be able to get here fast enough?

okay, Quark reluctantly doing his best to advocate for female rights is actually pretty awesome

are u telling me all Quark needed to be a better person was a little estrogen?

I actually... didn't find this bad for a Ferengi episode? and it was more interesting to watch than some other episodes in this season -- I was genuinely unsure what would happen and was rooting for everything to turn out well! 

Of course I'd prefer if Ishka made the case for Ferengi feminism herself -- but, at least, the narrative is on its side this time, unlike at least one previous episode. And this time she has more agency than in her previous appearances (Zek's lover/hidden mastermind and damsel in distress) -- she's using her position of power to implement a whole new progressive law, and it even seems like she made it to Zek's side for that purpose and domestic bliss was a nice side effect. 

Quark as a woman is an objectively transphobic gag, of course (and yes I know that it’s my privilege that allows me not to be viscerally upset by it enough to immediately ruin the episode forever). But I didn't actually find it as nasty as the same joke in "Facets", where the narrative and other characters used it to made fun of him, and the shot of his head on Kira's body in "Meridian"; here it's for greater good, and being in a woman's shoes (literally) gives him some perspective, plus nobody seems to think sex reassignment surgery is a big deal. Other characters criticise Quark’s performance of femininity in the same tone as Worf criticised others’ performance of Klingon-ness. Like, I see that this is fundamentally Bad, but I was preparing myself to be outraged much more so it doesn’t feel that bad.

And it's gross that Quark sexually exploits his workers and the narrative doesn't punish him, but that happened before in season 1... 

Unlike, say, The Reckoning, it doesn't affect the show's overall plot or lore in a negative way -- I'd even say it's the opposite because of the big win for women's rights on Ferenginar. (It shows a frustrating lack of progress in Quark's character arc, but a lot of episodes share this problem...) So, even though this episode is unfunny and largely offensive, I don't feel it's exceptionally terrible -- just another example of the problems this show has always had. I have more problems with stories that break the entire show, than isolated episodes like this which can be easily skipped and ignored.

Time's Orphan

what about the Orb of Time, wouldn't it help?

Keiko, that's a terrible decision

I guess the episode will end with both Worf and the O'Briens realizing this parenting problem is too difficult for them, and they'll do what they should have done from the start and re-rescue Molly

No, Miles, your plan is horrible. If it works I'll never forgive this episode.

I'm glad it ended well. But feral!Molly was obviously a lost cause from the beginning...

The Sound of Her Voice

Odo, are you being shitty on purpose?

I was worried when Bashir didn't want to talk at the beginning, but this is almost scary!

I suspected something like this...

Julian no...

“I really care about all of you, even if sometimes it would appear that I care more about my work” says the guy who spent two seasons running after everybody like “PLEASE BE MY FRIEND!!!11!”

This entire thing looks like Julian and Miles are about to make a public proposal to each other...

"Someday we're going to wake up and we're going to find that someone is missing from this circle" *looks directly at Jadzia*

Tears of the Prophets

*sigh* Okay, I'm emotionally prepared, here we go

*sees Jadzia on screen* no I'm not prepared

ughh why are Bashir and Quark being so gross

where has he been all this time?

"I don't hold you responsible for Ziyal's death. You may have fired the phaser, but it was Benjamin Sisko who forced your hand" ????? dude. this is a stretch even by your standards.

"You've gone from being a self important egotist to a self deluded madman" Weyoun is not wrong

(but you know acknowledging within the story that your writing is shitty doesn’t fix the problem)

Klingons and Romulans!

why must I listen to this stupid song and look at Bashir and Quark being shitty and badly written

Oh great, the wormhole aliens can somehow contact him whenever and wherever they want, no orbs or travels to the wormhole necessary. WTF?

I like how Weyoun and Damar roll their eyes at Dukat's nonsense. same

"I've immersed myself in the study of the Bajoran ancient texts, and I've come to realize that the wormhole is much more than the gateway to the Gamma Quadrant. It's the Temple of the Prophets" o rly??? truly an astonishing discovery

congrats on finally getting the Renegade eyes, Dukat

what is Garak doing here?

ugh. 

Dukat went from the embodiment of the best storyline on the show to the embodiment of the worst storyline on the show

At least Weyoun and Damar keep reacting to his every word as "That's nonsense" so at least someone inside the story doesn't like this plot as well. I think Dukat has passed them the torch of being the fourth wall breaking meta character...

...but, you know, if the wormhole would really close forever I'd be glad. of course they'll find a way to reconnect with their "Prophets" somehow

I interrupt the ugly crying to ask: how the hell would Sisko's presence on the station have saved Jadzia's life?!

"for the first time in my life I've failed in my duty as a Starfleet officer" uh, how?! 

this is the worst season finale in DS9

Ohhh man... The season started so strong I was overjoyed. I've always wanted more stories set on Terok Nor during the occupation, and didn't expect the show to deliver in this way! The change of status quo was exciting -- it really felt like Shit Got Real and a serious war was on and things would not be the same again! And Kira's little storyline about normalization of oppression and fighting it, first of all inside one's own heart, was great. But then it just went downhill...

Odo's betrayal made me lose all sympathy and trust towards him forever, and even without that, his character arc was greatly weakened by the presence of the Female Changeling, who is the worst combination of uninteresting and unlikeable. When the Founders are somewhere out there, Odo's longing for them is poignant, but when you see them on screen being bland and annoying, the magic just evaporates. 

An underused female character fridged to make a male character's arc less interesting: he loses his Morality Chain, his mind, and complexity as an antagonist. It's just so lazy. His main redeeming quality is the love for his daughter, and we're tired of writing bad people who still have some sympathetic motivations, that's too difficult, so let's take the object of that love away from him to make him Purely Evil(tm). And since the plot requires this rationalist character to do something OOC in the finale, we need to make him crazy or it couldn't happen. He's evil because of mental illness, he's evil because he gets himself possessed by a demon, he's evil because he has red eyes -- that leaves the viewer with the impression that his previous crimes weren't bad enough, that the writers think overseeing colonisation/genocide for years is tolerable but five minutes of hate speech & one minute of glowing red -- that's the real moral event horizon! Mental illness made him evil, huh? Take that trope and throw it in the trash along with Intendant Kira's Depraved Bisexual trope. Hey, remember when this show was about dealing with the effects of war and oppression, and Dukat embodied the different ways that oppression manifests? well now he's a comicbook villain with glowing satan eyes who shoots death rays 

The wormhole aliens are now suddenly Good Gods hijacking bodies and using them for Voldemort-Harry ray battles

The best-forgotten stupid tropes about hyper-intelligence are dragged from TNG and pasted onto Julian

The writers pulled out of their asses Bashir and Quark's unrequited love for Jadzia?? Bashir's crush was cute in season 1, but he got over it long ago, and Quark has always been just friends with her. Bashir had such a nice friendship with her, and now he's wishing that her marriage would fail so he'd get a shot, even though she was never interested in him in the first place? Fucking disgusting. Way to compromise his character.

And, of course, as the final insult, they fucking killed Jadzia for nothing.

So, let me count: Jadzia literally dead. Dukat's character almost completely assassinated, Bashir’s comes pretty close. Odo's character weakened. Lore and plot of the entire series fucked up. God. I have no words anymore. How do you ruin something so quickly?!

[sapphylicious]

Time for the B1A4 con report! First off, let me just say it was TOTALLY WORTH IT, but as soon as @cactuarneedles and I arrived back in KC at midnight we were like, “Let’s never go to California again.” It was that kind of trip.

First off, our connecting flight in Denver was delayed. Not by a lot, but in retrospect that set the tone for the rest of the weekend. We still managed to arrive in SF on Saturday around noon, checked in at the hotel, and then got ramen for lunch in Japantown. It’s been, oh, 11 years since I was last in SF for Hyde’s Faith tour, and wandering around Japantown was a bit nostalgic. I wanted to buy All The Things but couldn’t have fit anything else into my carry-on except a Pusheen shirt I ended up getting just because. Also, makeup remover, since I forgot to bring any and didn’t realize until I was putting on my eyeliner (very, very carefully). The salesperson in Kpop Beauty liked my Big Bang hoodie lol.

We were running out of energy fast since we’d been up since 4am Central, so we went back to the hotel and ordered in for dinner. I slept as I usually do in new places, which is to say, not well, but I managed not to be too tired on Sunday.

As for Sunday. 

Well.

It was raining all morning, and we’d bought umbrellas the day before at CVS, so we were like. The bare minimum of prepared. We also bought some trash bags to sit on. It was in the 50s but felt like it was in the 40s, and there was some wind, so overall it was a cold, wet, miserable experience. I’ve queued in line when it was colder (Akanishi Jin’s Yellow Gold tour in NYC in November was hella cold) but a) I was younger then, and b) I wasn’t being rained on. So Janel and I discovered our Too Old For This Shit threshold. If we hadn’t been close to the front of the line we probably would have said fuck it and stayed in the hotel room all day.

We took a break for lunch at a Vietnamese place where I was able to stop shivering for a while, and stayed there as long as we felt was reasonable. We’re not fans of the “claim a spot in line and then fuck off for the rest of the day until an hour before the doors open” tactic some people (read: assholes) like to use. Getting to be right in front of the stage is privilege you suffer for.

On the way back we decided to stop in a Target to buy some of those mini folding seats to help make the rest of the wait bearable (the trash-bags-on-ground was not working out for us). And this is where the trip really went to shit.

Janel left her purse in the restroom by accident. She realized it the moment we stepped outside and went back to the restroom in three minutes tops, and by then everything inside her purse had been stolen. Cash, cards, ID, keys -- the only thing she still had was her phone since it had been in her pocket (which luckily also had the tickets).

Soooo she pretty much spent the rest of the afternoon making phone calls and filing a police report -- not that the police could actually do anything about it, but it was good to have for getting through airport security for our flight back. So note: you can fly domestically without an ID, but it’s a huge pain for everyone.

At least by then it had basically stopped raining. There was a little bit of a situation when the lines were separated and we had to leave our spot to wait in another line for our VIP wristbands. I asked a girl I recognized being a couple people ahead of us to save our spot (couldn’t find the people who’d been directly in front or behind), but when we eventually got our wristbands I couldn’t find her again, or anyone else who had been near us in the original line. So we kind of just cut in at roughly the same area and miraculously no one gave us shit about it.

Let me just say, out of the several cons I’ve been to, B1A4 fans are the most chill. I remember standing in line for Big Bang and recalling how VIPs used to claim to be the most chill fans and lol nah man just nah. We chatted a little with the people around us, told the "everything got stolen” story a few times -- and also the “we’re from the Midwest” story. YOU PEOPLE IN LA AND SF DON’T KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE LIVING IN THE ENTIRE REST OF THE UNITED STATES. Travel for Kpop is a given. I’ve made weekend trips from the East Coast all the way to the West Coast for Kpop. This is also why we only go to cons for our absolute favorite groups, and will pull out all the stops for them. I figure I’ll only do this for B1A4, Big Bang, Epik High, TVXQ/JYJ, and maaaybe I might do it for VIXX. Maybe.

Getting into the venue wasn’t an issue and we wound up about four people back from the stage. We were hella sore by then, although I think it was worse for Janel since she was running back and forth a lot and under a ton more stress. Luckily the con didn’t start too late, and I forgot how much my feet hurt most of the time (I’m really glad I have a pair of comfortable boots).

So. B1A4 in person.

This is the first concert where I bothered to take pictures and record video, but I don’t know how some fans can dedicate their attention to recording the whole time because I was a flailing mess lol. THEY WERE SO CLOSE. They’re all really attractive in person??? I mean Gongchan is of course a given and he is EVEN MORE HANDSOME THAN ADVERTISED no wonder Sandeul and Jinyoung don’t shut up about how he looks. The suits they wore for most of the show were very nice and ESPECIALLY when they took off the jackets because men in waistcoats are my weakness. Jinyoung rolling up his shirtsleeves jesus christ and he does it all neatly too (whereas Baro’s sleeves kept falling and flopping around lol). Jinyoung is so fucking charming it’s unfair. When the water bottles came out he liked to hold them up and tease the crowd lmao how... typical...

CNU was amazing with the fanservice and the body rolls lol and he has such pretty hair. There was a moment duringggg I think Baby Goodnight when he and Gongchan were really cute together. I was filming Sandeul and had to quickly cut over to them with their arms around each other.

Baro did a lot of talking in English, I was surprised and impressed and I think this con has cemented him as third in my lineup of faves (Sandeul-Jinyoung-Baro-Gongchan-CNU). I feel like he interacted with the crowd best and I saw him paying attention to the balcony people often too, but someone needs to take the word “lit” away from him hahaha.

The venue was small so it was really easy for them to reach every part of the stage, we got to see all of them up close in roughly equal amounts but ngl my memory is like 70% Sandeul because I tracked him all across the stage.

BOY CAN HE SING. Not only does he sound amazing but you can tell just by looking at him how passionate he is, the way he moves and puts more of himself into it than the others do. The only way the con could have been more perfect is if he’d been able to perform a solo. Or just. If he could release a full-length solo album and then go on tour that was be okay too. He teased us by singing 그렇게 있어줘~ and augh so good. SO GOOD. AND SO CUTE. He’s so adorable I can hardly stand it. Near the end he was crouched down in front of us and stuck out his tongue bUT I DIDN’T MANAGE TO RECORD IT. OPPORTUNITY LOST.

I did however record the cheek squishing. It was so classic. Jinyoung goes for the cheeks, Sandeul tries to retaliate but misses, Jinyoung waits for a few seconds and then goes in again to get a good grip and Sandeul looks SO RESIGNED before he jerks his face away. They did this while Baro was talking and he was like “Hey, it’s my turn now!” lol poor Baro.

I also have some pics of CNU lowkey harassing Sandeul and Sandeul giving him this Look afterwards. And Gongchan fussing with Sandeul’s clothes. And Sandeul limp in Baro’s arms. I ship my bias with everyone, can you tell.

They were all so cute though, ugh, I love B1A4. I’m so glad I gave Kpop another chance after I thought the TVXQ breakup was the End Of All Things.

We fought with another girl over one of the towels thrown into the crowd. I only made a claim so it would be 2 vs 1 but we both lost the rock-paper-scissors battle and had to give it up. In retrospect we maybe should have played the “she was robbed today” pity card because you’d think after losing all the contents of your purse you could at least get a towel in compensation. We’re unfortunately not that combative though. At least this time the opponent didn’t cheat and throw down her choice late. Like I said, in terms of the fans B1A4 has much fewer assholes than I’m used to encountering.

I felt like a drowned rat by the end of the show and feared for my eyeliner but luckily it wasn’t running or even smudged (thanks, Stila stay all day waterproof liquid eyeliner). My hair was rather bedraggled though and after the rain and the water bottles it was like, why did I even bother curling it that morning, but what can you do.

I wanted to say something to everyone during the high touch -- I knew it was going to be quick but the staff really hurried everyone through which was annoying, and I had a holyshitholyshitholyshit internal monologue going when actually face to face with the boys. So I only managed a weak “thank you” to Gongchan who said it back (he’s so sweet ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥) and I blurted out a rather embarrassing “I love you!!” to Sandeul ahahaha god so much for being a cool, mature noona.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The walk back to the hotel was short, although we did wind up briefly walking in the wrong direction somehow because I can’t be trusted with directions even if the distance is only a few blocks. Our flight home was around 11am so we planned to get up extra early to have plenty of time for Janel to get through additional screening.

Aaaand then in the morning the flight was delayed to the afternoon, which would cause us to miss our connecting flight. So we had to book a whole new trip which didn’t leave until 3:20 pm.

Getting through security wasn’t too bad for either of us, and we waited around watching B1A4 fancams and reading fan accounts. As it got close to departure there were some confusing announcements about delays and we found out our gate had changed with no warning. Also the flight was slightly delayed. Luckily (?), our connecting flight in Vegas was also delayed. Still, by the time we got there we only had 15 min before we began boarding. 

(Also, even the airport in Vegas has slots lol.)

It was a veeery turbulent ride back. All of our flights for this trip have been turbulent, but that last one was the worst. I’m not afraid of flying but I can now understand how some people could be. At one point I looked over at Janel and said, “I hope we don’t die.” If the plane went down I decided I would just pray for a quick death and also to be reborn as a cat so I can spend my life eating, sleeping, and being petted.

Finally, around midnight, we were back in KC.

Me: Let’s never go to California again. Next time there’s a concert, NY or Chicago or even Jersey is fine. Janel: SF is a flaming trash heap. It is the Tumblr of cities.

Sorry, SF, I liked you for years but now I am okay with never setting foot in you again.

But still: WORTH IT.