#like i thought we Might get that as a dramatic mid-point! but no!

[edda-grenade]

so i drew this uhhhh. 3 years ago??? and forgot about it CANNOT believe we're actually getting eldritch horror goat mom in da4 👏👏👏

bonus:

[solxamber]

And I Pick...

In which you choose the club that caught your eye

Part 1

After much contemplation you've finally decided to pick the:

Basketball Club

The basketball court was quiet for all of two seconds after you announced your decision.

Then Ace exploded.

"HA! I knew you’d pick us! I called it!" He was practically doing laps around the court, pointing at nothing in particular. "Ace Trappola: the ultimate recruiter, the club MVP, and now the guy who brought you on board! This is the best day of my life!"

"Eh, it’s about time," Floyd drawled, stretching lazily. "Took ya long enough to figure out where the fun is." His sharp-toothed grin widened. "Now we can play my version of full-contact basketball. Hehehe."

"Absolutely not," Jamil cut in, but Floyd wasn’t listening.

"Don’t worry," Floyd said, throwing an arm around your shoulders like you’d been lifelong teammates. "If you survive the first practice, you’ll survive all the practices. Probably."

Ace jogged back over, breathless but triumphant. "I told you we’re the best club! No boring rules, no endless laps like in Deuce's lame track team, and best of all—" He struck a dramatic pose, arms wide. "You get to hang out with me every day!"

"Please don’t make them quit on the first week," Jamil muttered, giving you a look that seemed to say, Are you sure about this?

"Quit? Nahhh!" Ace grinned. "They’re gonna thrive here. I’ll even teach them my signature moves—like my no-look, backwards, mid-air layup."

"You can’t even do that," Jamil said flatly.

"Not yet," Ace shot back. "But it’s the thought that counts."

Floyd leaned in closer, his grin somehow growing wider. "You better keep up, shrimpy. Otherwise, I might have to… spice things up a little."

"Spice things up?" you echoed, immediately suspicious.

"He means doing things like replacing the basketballs with watermelons," Jamil deadpanned.

Ace snorted. "Or throwing the ball at the hoop so hard it breaks the backboard. Oh wait, that actually happened. Twice."

"It was fun," Floyd said, completely unrepentant.

Jamil sighed like a man who’d aged a decade in the last five minutes. But then, to your surprise, he turned to you and offered a small, genuine smile. "Still… I’m glad you’re here. Welcome to the team."

The words were simple, but coming from Jamil, they felt like a warm endorsement.

Ace clapped his hands together, clearly ready to move things along. "Alright, enough talking! Let’s get you on the court and see what you’ve got!"

"Or we could start slow," Jamil suggested, but Ace was already dragging you toward the center of the court, Floyd trailing behind with a basketball under one arm.

"Don’t worry," Floyd said, tossing the ball up and catching it effortlessly. "If ya mess up, we’ll just laugh at ya a little. No big deal~."

"No one’s laughing at anyone," Jamil said firmly, already pinching the bridge of his nose.

Ace threw an arm around your shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. "Ignore him. We’re gonna have a blast! First practice starts now!"

You weren’t sure what you’d gotten yourself into, but judging by their enthusiasm (and Floyd’s maniacal laughter), you were in for one chaotic ride.

Track and Field Club

The moment you declared your allegiance to the track and field club, Deuce’s face lit up like someone had just told him he passed his midterms.

“You’re�� really joining?” he asked, like he needed double confirmation. When you nodded, his grin widened, the kind that made him look both relieved and excited. “That’s awesome! Uh—welcome to the team! Seriously, it’s great to have you.” His usual earnestness shone through, and he scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, I’m still kind of learning the ropes, but we can figure things out together. It’s gonna be great!”

Jack, standing beside him, gave a firm nod of approval. “Good call. Track and field’s a solid choice. You’ll fit right in.” His tail wagged just enough to betray how happy he was, even if his tone stayed calm.

"Yeah!" Deuce agreed. “And, uh, don’t worry about keeping up or anything. It’s all about improving at your own pace. Right, Jack?”

“Sure,” Jack replied, glancing at you. Then he added, almost casually, “We’ll work on your stamina. You’re gonna need it.”

It took you a second to catch the faint glint in his eye, and then you remembered—oh no, the fridge comment. Jack had been disturbed ever since.

Deuce, oblivious to the subtext, chimed in, “Yeah, Jack’s great at that stuff! He’s got this crazy endurance. Like, he can run forever. I’m still working on it, but, uh, you’re in good hands!”

Jack’s tail swished again. “Just be ready to push yourself. But don’t worry—we’ve got your back.”

“Exactly!” Deuce said, his fists clenching like he was ready to run a marathon right there. “This is gonna be awesome. I mean, not that it wasn’t already great, but now it’s even better. Right, Jack?”

Jack gave a small, satisfied smile. “Right.”

As they led you toward the field, you couldn’t help but wonder what you’d just signed up for. One thing was certain, though—Jack’s still thinking about that fridge, and he will make sure it’s not an issue anymore.

Board Game Club

The moment you declared your allegiance to the board game club, Azul adjusted his glasses, looking smugly pleased with himself, like he'd just negotiated the deal of the century.

"An excellent decision," he said, his voice as smooth as the perfectly polished board games stacked behind him. "With your addition to our club, I foresee a new golden age of strategic victories."

Idia, sitting half-hidden behind a pile of unopened game boxes, choked on his energy drink. "W-Wait, you’re serious? They actually chose us?" His hair flared a brilliant shade of pink for a moment before he pulled his hoodie tighter around himself. "Th-this isn’t some prank, right? Like, I’m not gonna look up and see them bolting out the door laughing, right?"

"Nope," you replied with a grin. "I’m all in."

Ortho, ever the enthusiastic hype man, zipped into the room with his jet thrusters. "Welcome to the club! Now we have a full party for dungeon raids. This is amazing!"

Azul cleared his throat, waving a hand. "Ahem, while cooperative RPGs are certainly an option, I believe we should start with a game of strategy and wit to introduce them properly. Perhaps a round of Chess of Betrayal?"

Idia groaned, sinking further into his hoodie. "Ugh, that game takes, like, three hours. If you’re gonna scare them away, at least wait until they’re too deep in to quit. Why don’t we start with something easy, like Goblin King Gauntlet?"

Ortho clapped his hands. "Ooh, I love that one! It has a random trap mechanic! Let’s play that!"

Azul raised an eyebrow, his smile shark-like. "Trap mechanics are hardly a proper welcome. It would be far better to demonstrate the finer nuances of strategy, wouldn’t you agree?"

Idia muttered something about Azul turning everything into a power play, but you interrupted before they could spiral into a full-blown debate. "Honestly, I’m fine with anything. Just deal me in."

Azul’s smirk widened. "Very well, then. I shall prepare the game board. And don’t worry, I’ll make certain you’re fully equipped for our upcoming campaigns. You’ll find we offer more than just fun—we offer victory."

Idia peeked out from his hoodie, a small, hopeful smile creeping onto his face. "You’re not bad at this whole club thing. Maybe this won’t be so terrible."

As they started setting up the game, you felt an unexpected warmth. Sure, it was just a board game club, but there was something endearing about their chaotic enthusiasm.

Though one thing was clear—Azul would probably try to sell you game tokens at some point, and Idia would absolutely try to teach you how to min-max your dice rolls.

But hey, you were ready for it.

Film Studies Club

When you announced your decision to join the film studies club, Vil paused mid-sip of his herbal tea, one elegantly arched eyebrow rising. For a moment, he looked like he was considering whether he had heard you correctly. Then, with a practiced air of nonchalance, he set the teacup down.

"Hm. Acceptable," he said coolly, though his tone betrayed a slight uptick of satisfaction. "It’s rare to find someone with enough taste to appreciate the art of cinema. I suppose your presence will be… useful."

But the slight curl of his lips gave him away.

He stood, brushing imaginary dust from his coat, and gave you an appraising look. "We have much to discuss. If you’re serious about this, you’ll need to commit entirely—no half-measures, no excuses. The camera is unforgiving, and I have no intention of allowing this club to falter under subpar contributions."

You opened your mouth to respond, but he was already pacing, gesturing dramatically like the star of an avant-garde production. "Lighting, blocking, composition—they are all integral to creating art, not merely entertainment. I trust you won’t embarrass yourself, or me, for that matter."

Despite his words, you caught the faintest hint of pride in his gaze as he turned to face you fully. "And, if for some reason, acting isn’t your strength, there are other roles. Cinematography, set design, editing… Perhaps backstage work would suit you, should you fail the audition."

He didn’t say it to be harsh; this was Vil’s version of encouragement. And as he continued outlining the club’s vision—"a modern renaissance in storytelling"—you realized he was genuinely excited to have you there, even if he’d rather gargle poison than openly admit it.

Finally, he stopped and gave you a small, approving nod. "Welcome to the film studies club. Don’t make me regret this."

Translation: I’m glad you’re here.

Science Club

The moment you announced your decision to join the science club, Rook’s eyes lit up like you’d just declared him the ruler of the universe.

"Ah, mon ami! What a magnifique choice!" he exclaimed, sweeping you into a theatrical bow so deep you thought he might topple over. "You possess the soul of an explorer, a true seeker of knowledge! Together, we shall unlock the mysteries of nature and celebrate its beauty in all its forms!"

"Uh… don’t scare them off, Rook," Trey interjected, though he was smiling. He adjusted his apron, clearly relieved that you hadn’t bolted under Rook’s enthusiastic greeting. "We’re glad to have you. Really. It’s nice to have someone else around who won’t accidentally set the lab on fire."

You raised an eyebrow. "That’s a low bar."

Trey shrugged. "You’d be surprised how many fail to meet it."

Before you could respond, Rook was already spinning grand plans. "Imagine the adventures we will have! Scaling mountains, crafting elixirs, nurturing delicate blossoms—ah, the poetry of science!" He clasped his hands to his chest, radiating so much joy that you were worried he’d break into song.

Trey, ever the grounded one, sighed fondly. "What he means is: we do a little bit of everything. Growing plants, chemistry experiments, cooking—you’ll fit right in. Assuming Rook doesn’t scare you off first."

Rook turned to Trey with an exaggerated gasp, as if the very suggestion of him being overwhelming was the greatest insult he’d ever received. "Chevalier des Roses, how could you wound me so?" He turned back to you with a theatrical flourish. "Fear not! I shall be your guide, your companion, your—"

"Assistant," Trey cut in, giving you a knowing look. "We'll assist you. Don’t let him take over your projects."

You grinned, feeling oddly at home already. Between Rook’s boundless enthusiasm and Trey’s steadying presence, you realized the science club might just be the perfect balance of chaos and calm.

Pop Music Club

When you announced your decision to join the Pop Music Club, Lilia was the first to react. He shot up from his chair with a dramatic flourish, his cape—where did the cape come from?—billowing as if on cue.

"Ah, an excellent choice! Welcome to the most electrifying club in the entire school!" Lilia declared, his voice reverberating like an arena announcer. He played an imaginary riff on an air guitar, complete with sound effects that you were almost certain were magically amplified.

Kalim clapped his hands, beaming as brightly as the sun. "This is going to be so much fun! We can sing duets, make up dances, throw a party for every new song we write—oh! We should have a welcome party for you right now!" He was already halfway to grabbing balloons out of thin air before Cater stopped him.

"Easy there, Kalim," Cater said with a laugh, pulling out his phone to snap a picture. "We haven’t even started jamming yet! Gotta document this first—‘New Member Alert 🚨🎶! Welcome to the coolest club at NRC!’” He posed next to you, flipping through filters. "Ooh, should we do a pastel vibe or go all-out neon?"

"Why not both?" Lilia suggested, somehow holding a tambourine he hadn’t been holding two seconds ago. He shook it with gusto, the jingles creating an impromptu beat.

Kalim joined in instantly, dancing around the room with energy that could probably power a small city. "This is going to be amazing! Do you play any instruments? Can you sing? Or maybe you’ll write the songs? Wait, can you do all three?!"

Before you could answer, Lilia leaned in with a conspiratorial grin. "Don’t worry, even if you’re terrible, I can teach you. After all, I’ve had centuries of experience."

"Centuries of experience at what exactly?" you asked, though you weren’t entirely sure you wanted the answer.

"Everything," Lilia replied cryptically, shaking the tambourine once more for emphasis.

Cater gave you a wink. "Don’t let him intimidate you. He’s mostly harmless. Mostly."

As the chaos swirled around you, you realized joining the Pop Music Club was probably going to be as much about managing everyone’s energy as it was about making music.

But looking at their genuine excitement, you couldn’t help but feel you’d made the right choice. It was going to be loud, unpredictable, and—most importantly—a lot of fun.

Equestrian Club

When you chose the Equestrian Club, Riddle’s reaction was immediate and deeply Riddle. He straightened his posture, cleared his throat, and gave you a small but dignified nod, though his ears turned the faintest shade of pink.

“A wise decision,” he said primly, but his voice wavered just enough to give away his excitement. “The Equestrian Club values discipline and care, and I trust you will uphold those values. Welcome.” He paused, then added with uncharacteristic softness, “I’m glad you chose us.”

Sebek, on the other hand, reacted with his usual intensity, which was to say, very loudly.

“AS EXPECTED OF SOMEONE WITH DISCERNING TASTE!” Sebek bellowed, saluting for no discernible reason. “THE EQUESTRIAN CLUB IS A PLACE OF HONOR AND DILIGENCE. YOU HAVE MADE THE RIGHT CHOICE, AND I, SEBEK ZIGVOLT, SHALL PERSONALLY ENSURE YOU MEET OUR HIGH STANDARDS!”

“You’re going to scare the horses,” Silver muttered, patting a dozing mare who didn’t even flinch at Sebek’s volume. Clearly, she’d built up an immunity.

Silver turned to you with a sleepy but genuine smile. “Welcome. It’ll be nice having another person around who actually seems calm. I’ll show you the best places to ride, and we’ll make sure you’re comfortable with the horses.”

“And with the rules,” Riddle interjected, already retrieving a stack of laminated pages. “Equestrian care is not something to take lightly. You’ll need to memorize these guidelines to ensure both your safety and that of the horses.”

Sebek leaned over your shoulder to inspect the stack and immediately saluted again. “AN EXCELLENT INITIATIVE, HOUSEWARDEN ROSEHEARTS! I, TOO, WILL MEMORIZE THESE IN CASE THEY EVER REQUIRE REINFORCEMENT!”

“I think they’re fine,” Silver said. “We don’t need to make this harder than it needs to be.”

Riddle frowned. “Standards exist for a reason, Silver. Though I appreciate your enthusiasm, perhaps we can—Sebek, stop shouting—perhaps we can go over the basics first before overwhelming them.”

As Riddle and Sebek debated, Silver handed you a carrot to feed one of the horses. “Don’t worry,” he said, as the horse happily munched away. “It’s not as intense as it seems. Usually.”

You glanced at the stack of rules in Riddle’s hand and the fervent look in Sebek’s eyes. It was definitely going to be an adjustment. But seeing how genuinely happy they all were to have you—yes, even Sebek—you felt like this would be worth it.

Magift Club

When you announced your decision to join the Magift Club as their manager, the reaction was instantaneous and… surprisingly chaotic.

Ruggie let out a whoop, immediately dropping to the floor in a mock bow. "Ayo, everyone, bow to the boss! Finally, someone who can keep this circus in line!"

Leona, lounging on the sidelines, cracked open an eye and smirked. “’Bout time. Herbivores usually flake out, but I knew you were better than the rest.” He stretched lazily, like he’d personally orchestrated your decision. “Just keep the snacks coming, and we’ll get along fine.”

Epel looked between them and grinned, his enthusiasm much more grounded. “It’s great to have ya! With you around, maybe Leona will actually show up to warmups... or not just sleep through it.” He shot a pointed glance at their captain, who was, of course, ignoring him entirely.

“Eh,” Leona drawled, flicking his tail dismissively.

“You could work on that attitude,” you muttered, earning a low chuckle from him.

“See, I told you they’d fit right in!” Ruggie said, gesturing at you dramatically. “They’re already roasting him. This is gonna be great!”

Epel, suddenly inspired, added, “And they’ll keep Ruggie from stealing the fresh apple juice we get after games. That’s worth it alone.”

As the reality of your new role settled in, you felt a bit like a lion tamer walking into a den of mischievous cubs and one very lazy big cat. But their enthusiasm—expressed in their own peculiar ways—was endearing.

Ruggie threw an arm around your shoulder. “Alright, boss, first order of business: snacks! Let’s discuss our game day budget and whether I can convince you to sneak me a sandwich before practice.”

Leona snorted but didn’t argue, which you took as a sign of approval. Epel pumped his fist. “We’re gonna crush it this year!”

Maybe managing this bunch wouldn’t be so bad after all. If nothing else, it’d definitely be entertaining.

Mountain Lovers Club

When you joined Jade for a hike to "test the waters" of the Mountain Lovers Club, you had your doubts. You were prepared for a lot of things—maybe getting lost in the wilderness, maybe Jade pulling out his eerie cryptid knowledge, or maybe just a weirdly formal lecture about moss. What you weren’t prepared for was… actually enjoying yourself.

Jade led the way with an unhurried confidence, pointing out various wild plants, their uses, and fun facts about the environment. He wasn’t his usual enigmatic self, either. He seemed lighter, almost enthusiastic, as he described a tiny wildflower you would’ve missed entirely.

“This particular species only blooms during the autumn months,” he said, crouching to show you. “Quite fascinating how it adapts to the cooler temperatures, don’t you think?”

You nodded, trying not to stare too hard at how his face lit up when he spoke. Jade was… cute? When he wasn’t talking about mushrooms in a way that made you question your mortality, he was actually kind of charming.

By the time you reached a rocky outcrop with a gorgeous view of the campus, you realized you’d been smiling for most of the hike. Jade noticed too.

“It seems I’ve made a decent impression,” he said, turning toward you with a soft grin. “I’m pleased to see you enjoying yourself.”

“It’s… relaxing,” you admitted, surprising even yourself. “I didn’t think it’d be this fun.”

Jade tilted his head. “Does that mean you’d consider joining the Mountain Lovers Club?”

You hesitated for a moment, but as you looked at the breathtaking view and the rare, genuine smile on his face, the answer came easily. “Yeah. I’ll join.”

For a split second, Jade’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly schooled his expression into his usual composed smile. “Wonderful. I must say, I wasn’t expecting this outcome, but I’m glad. It’s not every day someone sees the beauty in what I love.”

There was an odd warmth in his voice that made your heart skip a beat. As he turned to lead the way back, he added, “Now that we’re a team, I look forward to our next adventure.”

Jade Leech was genuinely happy. And, you realized, so were you.

Gargoyle Research Society

When you told Malleus you were joining the Gargoyle Research Society, his reaction was almost imperceptible at first. A slight widening of his eyes, a pause as though he was waiting to see if you were serious, and then—pure, unfiltered delight.

"You have an interest in gargoyles?" he asked, his voice both surprised and reverent, as if you'd just confessed to enjoying a rare and ancient art form.

You nodded. "Yeah. I think they're fascinating. The designs, the history… They’re like stone guardians with stories etched into them."

For a moment, Malleus simply looked at you, his emerald eyes shimmering like the light of distant stars. Then, as if unable to contain his joy, he smiled—a soft, genuine expression that sent a wave of warmth through the chilly Ramshackle evening.

"This pleases me greatly," he said, his tone unusually light. “Not many share my appreciation for gargoyles. Often, I speak of them, and others… how do I put it? Pretend to listen.”

“Well, I’m definitely not pretending,” you said, grinning. “I’m in for real.”

Malleus clasped his hands together in what could only be described as regal excitement. "Then I must share something with you. Sometimes, I create gargoyles myself."

“You what?” you asked, laughing in delight.

“Yes,” he replied earnestly, his eyes alight. “Carving stone requires patience, but there is a certain satisfaction in breathing life into something lifeless. Well, not literal life, of course, but a soul of sorts.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, the image of Malleus with a chisel and hammer popping into your head. “I never would have guessed. That’s… really cool.”

“I can show you some of my creations, if you’d like,” he offered, almost shyly.

“I’d love that,” you said, genuinely glad to have joined him. “I think I’m going to enjoy this club.”

The glow in his expression was impossible to miss. It wasn’t just that you had joined his club—it was that, for once, someone truly shared his passion. “And I am glad to have you,” he said softly.

In that moment, under the watchful eyes of the stone guardians scattered around campus, it felt like you had chosen exactly the right place.

Masterlist

tags: @techno-danger

a/n: it completely slipped my mind that ortho is a part of film studies sorry :(

[10byten]

Last night, I imagined Jaehyun telling everyone just how deeply in love he is with his girlfriend. The way he’d talk about what makes her so special in his eyes, how she’s this perfect mix of chaos and calm that he can’t get enough of. How she’s not just someone he loves—she’s the reason everything makes sense. And that’s it. Just Jaehyun, utterly smitten, trying to put into words what feels impossible to explain.

Jaehyun finally told the guys about you. The way you live in his head, rent-free. The way everything feels a little too quiet when you’re not there. He tried to keep you to himself, but he couldn’t anymore—not when you’re all he thinks about.

-

“Wait, can you say that again?” Mark’s eyes widen like a cartoon character caught mid-thought. The boys are all gathered around the living room table.

Jaehyun had called what they jokingly refer to as an “emergency assembly” to drop the bombshell: there’s someone in his life now, and he’s planning to move in with them. It’s time, apparently, to finally introduce them to his friends.

“I mean, I don’t know, you’ve been hyping this girl up for so long, and we still haven’t seen her. At this point, I’m starting to think she’s a figment of your imagination,” Johnny teases, leaning back in his chair.

“Ha. Ha.” Jaehyun deadpans, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I know I’ve been talking about her for a while, and yeah, none of you have met her yet.”

“And we don’t want to meet her,” Jungwoo says, dramatically crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.

“Don’t listen to him, hyung. We’re dying to meet your ghost girlfriend. Like, is this some ‘Ghost’ movie situation where only you can see her, or is she gonna appear if we summon her with a medium?”

Jaehyun throws a pillow straight at his younger friend’s face.

“She’s real,” he insists, his voice softer near the end as if embarrassed. “I just... didn’t want to share her. I wanted to keep her to myself for a while.”

“Oh, you were scared we’d steal your girl, huh, Jung?” Doyoung smirks.

Jaehyun snorts, shaking his head with a calm confidence. “Not a chance, Kim. She’s not into innocent little boys like you.”

Doyoung pulls a face, his mock outrage making everyone laugh.

“Well, I’m happy for you, man,” Taeyong says sincerely. “We’re all excited to meet her.”

“So, tell us—what’s so amazing about her?” Haechan leans forward, curiosity sparkling in his eyes.

Jaehyun’s gaze drops to the table, a thoughtful look washing over his face. Then his eyes light up, and a soft smile stretches across his lips.

“She has this... effect on me. When she’s not around, it’s like this itch I can’t scratch, and nothing feels right until she’s back. She’s got this way of making everything in my life just... easier. She makes me feel like even the stuff that doesn’t make sense is still okay, like it all fits somehow. Sometimes, it feels like she controls the weather—my weather—and I think maybe she does. At least in my world.”

He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck with a shy laugh. “Honestly, even I start to wonder if she’s a mirage. She must be made of some kind of magic, though, right? Because who else could do that to someone? Every time I’m with her, I feel a little more drunk on her. It’s weird, but I finally get that saying about having someone under your skin.”

The room falls silent. The guys are all staring at him, wide-eyed and stunned.

“And of course,” Jaehyun adds with a sheepish grin, “she’s gorgeous, sweet, sexy, brilliant, and funny.”

Haechan is the first to recover. “Hold up—what happened to the emotionally unavailable, zero-feelings Jaehyun we know? This guy’s a clone. We need to file a missing person report.”

“Shut up, idiot. It’s called being in love,” Yuta says, rolling his eyes. “You might figure that out one day if your brain ever grows up.”

“I know this doesn’t sound like me, but—”

“But it proves you’re really in love,” Yuta cuts in.

Jaehyun blushes and nods, unable to hide his smile.

“So, when do we get to meet this ‘delicious creature’ of yours?” Johnny asks, grinning like he’s not about to let it go.

-

“Hey, love. Where are you?”

You slip off your shoes the moment you walk into the apartment, already eager to see him. When Jaehyun spots you, his face lights up, and the book he was holding is instantly forgotten as he crosses the room to pull you into his arms. He lifts you slightly, and you laugh, wrapping your arms around him.

“Hello, love of my life.”

“Hello, you.” You kiss him softly.

“How was your day?” he asks, just like he always does.

“Intense. And yours?” you murmur, your fingers threading through his hair.

“Long without you. Fun with the guys,” he says, stealing a quick kiss.

“Oh yeah? What did you guys do?”

He looks at you deeply, his eyes full of warmth. “Talked. About stuff. About you.”

You tilt your head, feeling a mix of flattery and slight embarrassment.

“They’re coming for dinner tomorrow,” he says casually, brushing his lips against your cheek. “To finally meet you. Is that okay?”

“I’m okay with anything that involves you or the people you care about,” you reply between kisses.

Jaehyun groans softly against your lips. “You have to be unreal. Always saying the perfect thing.”

“Then I guess this is one beautiful illusion we’re living together.”

“It definitely is. babe”

-

Part 2

[janiehellion]

𝐓𝐫𝛐𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫 ⋮ 𝔇𝔞𝔯𝔶𝔩 𝔇𝔦𝔵𝔬𝔫

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Daryl Dixon knew better than to challenge you, yet the thrill of breaking the rules was too tempting to resist. He let you play your game—by his own rules—because certain forbidden lessons in trouble were just meant to be learned.

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Smut ⋮ Blowjob ⋮ Cunnilingus ⋮ Teasing ⋮ Rough Sex ⋮ Taboo

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 5.350 𝑺𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈: Teacher AU 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Fem!Student!Reader

𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑩𝒚: @mikes-babygirl

𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ⋮ 𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑮𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔

You walked into the room, already preparing yourself for another boring day at college. It wasn’t that you hated college exactly—it was just more of the same, day after day. You threw your bag next to your desk and sat down in your seat, scrolling through your phone while the other college students started to get ready for class.

But then you looked over to the door.

Of all people to be teaching today—it was him. Mr. Dixon. Just your luck. You’d always had a problem with this guy. Sure, he was good-looking—annoyingly good-looking, actually—but that just made it worse. Someone that hot shouldn’t have the right to be such a pain in the ass. And the constant lecturing like he knew everything? He had that whole "I’m smarter than you!" attitude, and it drove you crazy.

He hadn’t done anything yet, but just the sight of him was enough to piss you off.

And as soon as he started the lesson, talking and gesturing around, you immediately zoned out.

It just didn’t matter.

You were more focused on how he stood there, acting like he had everything under control and looking all arrogant. You hated that. And there was no way you were just going to sit through this class quietly.

So you raised your hand slowly.

"Yeah?" Mr. Dixon turned to you, raising an eyebrow in that way that made you want to punch his face.

You shrugged, leaning back casually. "Just wondering... what’s the point of all this? I mean, history? It’s not like we need this for our major. This has nothing to do with what we're actually studying."

He looked irritated but kept his cool. Of course he did. "It’s 'bout understandin' why the world works the way it does—no matter what field you’re in."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, right. Like learning this bullshit is gonna pay my bills."

A few students laughed, but Mr. Dixon's expression didn’t change. "The point of learning history is to understand how people like ya keep makin' the same mistakes—and why they're still broke."

"Sounds like a waste of time," you muttered loud enough for him to hear.

He paused, staring at you for a moment longer than necessary, so you leaned forward, looking into his eyes as if daring him to say something else. He wouldn’t. He knew better.

Daryl sighed loudly and continued with the lesson, but you weren’t done. Throughout the class, you kept at it—making comments or sighing dramatically in annoyance every time he explained something.

At one point, you put your feet up on the desk, pushing your chair back lazily. "Seriously, Dixon, can we speed this up? Some of us have better things to do."

His eyes looked toward your legs, then back to your face, but he didn’t say anything. He was trying hard to keep his cool.

With a yawn, you stretched your arms over your head, and as time went on, you decided to continue.

"So, Dixon," you said loudly, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Ever thought about getting a real job instead of just playing teacher?"

This time, he paused. Really paused.

You knew you’d provoke him eventually, but that’s exactly what you wanted. You wanted him to react.

But instead, he just gave you a small, almost unnoticeable smirk. "Careful, ya might just find out I’m more qualified than ya think."

Your heart skipped a beat. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

In one way or another, you spent the rest of class barely paying attention, since something about that smirk he gave you before had pissed you off more than usual.

As soon as the bell for the break rang, you waited near the classroom door, pretending to chat with a few friends until he left the room as well. Once the hallway was empty and everyone was out of sight, you slipped back in.

First, you walked up to his desk, staring at the pile of papers he's left there. It was all so organized, so... proper. You hated it. With one quick move, you knocked the papers to the floor, scattering them all over the place.

Your eyes then landed on his bag on the chair behind the front desk. Without thinking twice, you grabbed it and looked through it. There were a few personal items still inside—a notebook, some other papers, and a lighter.

"A smoker, huh?"

You then looked through the notebook. There were random notes, lesson plans, and other things you didn’t even care about, but something about it being his made you want to ruin it. Without hesitating, you ripped out the pages, tearing them apart.

"Not enough..."

You grabbed the lighter, turning it on, before you held it to some of the torn-out pages, watching it burn for a few more seconds before dropping it onto the pile of papers on the floor, while making sure the windows were open to avoid triggering the smoke alarm.

Anything to piss him off.

And just as you were about to leave, your eyes landed on his coffee mug, which he's left behind. That stupid mug he always carried around. Without thinking twice, you grabbed it, throwing it against the wall, and before anyone could catch you, you slipped back out of the room, blending in with the crowd of other college students outside, acting like nothing had happened.

Soon, the break was almost over, but the classroom was still empty. Mr. Dixon walked in first, and the second he saw the mess, his eyes widened—papers torn and burned, the broken coffee mug on the floor... He didn’t say anything; he just stood there, taking it all in.

"Ugh… Really?" He mumbled to himself. "Yer testing me, huh? Alright then."

He walked around the room slowly, closing the open windows and getting rid of the chaos you'd left behind.

"Ya want my attention?" He said quietly, almost like he was talking to you even though you weren’t there. "Ya sure as hell got it."

He should’ve been pissed, but there was something that made him more curious than angry.

Now, he quickly straightened up as he heard footsteps approaching from the hallway. He watched the door, waiting for you to walk back in, knowing full well what you’d done.

The college students soon began walking back into the room, and you were one of the last to come in, casually late, throwing yourself into your chair while your eyes looked to Mr. Dixon, standing at the front, but... with no hint of anger.

His eyes soon met yours for a second—just long enough to make your heart race—but then he looked away again.

"Alright," he began, "we’re gonna continue with something different now."

He walked to the front of his desk, grabbing a stack of books he'd brought with him to the classroom—Divided Loyalties. He held one up, flipping through the pages and then passing them out. As you grabbed your copy, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. American Revolution? Really?

"This play's 'bout a family torn apart by their opposing views," he explained, walking slowly in front of the board. "Patriots, loyalists, people choosing sides. The family in this play has to decide where their loyalty lies—what side of history they wanna be on. Some of 'em follow, others... they go with what’s expected. Either way, their choices split 'em apart."

He didn’t say it outright, but you felt it. He picked this damn play on purpose.

You tapped your fingers on your copy of the book, half-listening to him, half-lost in your thoughts. It was like he was waiting for you to make a move. But what move exactly?

"The point of this," he said, moving around again, "is that sometimes we get pulled in two directions. Loyalties get tested. But what matters is whether or not ya own yer choices."

That last line felt like it was meant just for you. There it was again—that feeling. Unspoken, electric. Like you both knew exactly what was happening between the two of you, but neither of you wanted to admit it.

He stepped away, continuing with his explanation about the play.

"Ya know," he continued, leaning back against his desk, arms crossed again. "A lotta people thought on either side they were just troublemakers. Pissin' off each other, causin' problems... all 'cause they couldn’t keep their mouths shut." His eyes looked to yours again, almost like a challenge.

You bit your lip, trying to focus on the book, but his voice, his presence—it was all too distracting somehow. He knew exactly what he was doing. And it was working.

One of the students sitting a couple of rows over raised their hand. "Mr. Dixon, did you ever have to deal with that? Like, divided loyalties? You seem like you know what that feels like."

He paused, smirking a bit, but didn’t answer right away. Instead, he was looking almost amused. "What makes ya say that?"

The student shrugged. "I dunno, just the way you talk about it. It’s like you’ve been through some stuff and things yourself."

"Let’s just say I’ve seen my share of... divided loyalties." He glanced at the board. "But that ain't the point of the lesson."

Another student chimed in. "What did you do before teaching, anyway? You weren’t always here. You don’t seem like... a regular teacher."

He laughed, shaking his head slightly. "That’s because I’m not. Jus' a substitute, fillin' in until I finish my graduate program. I’m workin' toward my Master’s in Education. Right now, I'm here until the regular prof returns. Ya don’t have to worry; I ain't stickin' 'round forever."

Your curiosity was growing, though you’d never admit it. He didn’t fit the type of a normal professor at all, and now it was obvious why. He wasn’t one. Well… Not really.

"Now, back to the lesson," he continued. "Troublemakers…" He said the word slowly, like he was testing it out. "Sometimes, trouble’s what shakes things up. Forces people to finally pay attention."

Your heart was racing faster and faster. He was toying with you, and you knew it. He was playing a game, and you hated how much it was getting under your skin. But part of you... part of you liked it. The push, the pull, the challenge between the two of you. He wasn’t like the other teachers who'd have scolded you by now. No, he was letting you come at him, daring you to make your next move and to fuck up.

And you couldn’t help but play along.

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms with a bored look on your face. "It's just another pointless play to rot our brains with bullshit that we don't even need for our future."

He gave you a quick glare, but he was still rather unimpressed with your attitude. "If ya think it’s pointless, maybe ya ain't puttin' enough effort into understanding it."

"Effort?" You snorted and smirked. "The only effort I see is you trying to make us suffer with bullshit no one even gives a fuck about."

He narrowed his eyes at you, but he was still in control. "Perhaps if ya paid more attention, ya’d understand why this bullshit is still relevant."

"Relevant? Don’t make me shit myself," you snapped back, now leaning forward to rest your elbows on your desk.

The room was quiet, all eyes looking between you and Mr. Dixon, but no one else dared to say anything.

Daryl sighed, clearly fed up somewhere deep inside. "That’s quite a way to talk to a teacher."

"Yeah? But you aren't a real teacher, nor will you ever become a professor, so what are you going to do about it?" You shot back. "Get me suspended? From college? As if any prof would even do that! Or how about you give me detention? Oh wait, you’re already doing that with your shitty lessons."

He stepped closer to you, smirking as well. "Watch ya damn mouth an' shut it."

"Or what?" You taunted. "Are you going to make me?"

His eyes were burning into yours, and for a moment, it felt like there was something else there in them—something else than simple irritation and annoyance.

"Is that what ya want?" He asked, putting his hands into his pockets. "For me to give ya what yer askin' for?"

"Oh, please! Like that’s going to make any difference!" You laughed back at him, waving one hand in dismissal.

"Yer testing my patience," he answered, his voice still calm. "And yer 'bout to find out how far I’m willin' to go to get ya suspended, if that's what ya really want. Or maybe expelled. Even if this is college."

The room was dead silent, the other students watching with wide eyes and whispering to each other. But you didn’t care.

"Expelled, huh? Those are some serious words for someone who’s barely even qualified to be teaching," you smiled.

Daryl didn't respond immediately; he just stared at you with that still calm expression. Like he was holding back.

Finally, he took a step back. "Ya think this is a joke?"

You shrugged, yawning and smirking at him. "Well, I’m not exactly learning anything here, so yeah, it really is kinda funny."

But the smirk on your face faded the second he slammed his hands down loudly on your desk, making you jump.

"Enough!" He said, his voice only a growl.

You opened your mouth to snap back once more, but he cut you off before you could even speak.

"Detention," he continued. "After school. We’ll see how ya will act when there’s no one else 'round to laugh.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back, trying to seem unimpressed. "Fine. But I’m not scared of you, Dixon."

He walked back to the front desk, giving you one final look. "Ya will be."

The bell rang soon enough, and everyone else went to walk out of the room. You stood up slowly as well, watching Daryl write notes down on a paper at his desk like nothing had happened.

But that last glare? That look in his eyes? You couldn't think about anything else as the hours passed.

And now you had detention with him. Alone.

Detention had seemed more appealing than getting suspended or expelled, of course, especially from college by a substitute teacher who still didn't graduate himself yet, but it wasn’t exactly what you’d hoped for in one way or another. Mr. Dixon had made it clear you’d be staying after the lessons, and now here you were, sitting at the front of the room, waiting for him to show up.

The minutes ticked by until Mr. Dixon walked in, his face looking as neutral as ever.

"Well, well, well," he started as he stood near the door, closing it slowly. "I didn't think I'd actually be seein' ya here." He crossed his arms over his chest. "But here we are."

"Guess I just wanted to make it all a little more exciting for myself," you shot back.

He stepped closer, not invading your personal space but close enough. "Excitin', huh? Or just plain stupid?"

"Depends on who you ask," you replied, crossing your arms. "What’s next, more boring lectures? Another dumb play?"

"Maybe... or maybe I’ll find another way to keep your attention," he said, taking another step closer.

You smirked, rolling your eyes. "Yeah, right. As if you could keep me interested. You don’t scare me, Dixon; I've said it before, and I'll always say it again. Why? Wanna try me? I dare you to try."

Before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist, the move sending adrenaline straight through your body in an instant. "Careful what ya wish for."

His eyes moved down to your lips, and for a short moment, you thought he might actually kiss you. But as fast as that thought came into your mind, you quickly pushed it away again.

"Maybe ya wanna find out how far I’ll go to teach ya a lesson," he challenged, his breath smelling like cigarettes.

"Maybe I do," you replied. "Or maybe I don't."

He let go of your wrist and walked back to the front desk, but the distance between you still felt nonexistent.

"And I don't care," he answered, setting the book from all those hours before down on the desk. "Yer going to reread Divided Loyalties again. I want ya to pay close attention this time. Maybe ya will finally learn, or at least shut up."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a laugh. "Like learning how to deal with your bullshit?"

He ignored the comment. "Start readin'. I’ll be gradin' some papers in the meantime."

You shrugged, picking up the book. But as you looked through the pages, an idea started forming in your mind. If Mr. Dixon wanted you to take this seriously, you were going to make it interesting—by your own rules.

You looked over at him, already busy with his grading. Perfect. You began to read aloud, but not in the way he might have hoped, interpreting the text in your own way and playing around with the words.

"Forsooth, thou hast a long and sturdy lance," you read, your voice now louder on purpose. "I’d wager it could penetrate any barrier with ease."

His head moved up and his eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing, choosing to let you continue.

You pressed on as you read. "Verily, thy bedchamber is most inviting. I am most eager to partake in its pleasures."

You leaned back in your chair, watching him closely as you continued. "Our loyalty lies not just in our words, but in the way we... entertain each other behind closed doors."

His eyes looked at you again, and you could see the struggle on his face to keep his calm. It was clear you were getting under his skin, and you loved it.

You let out a rather quiet laugh, closing the book and stretching yourself. "You know, Mr. Dixon, I think I’m starting to understand the ‘divided loyalties’ part. Sometimes, it’s hard to stay loyal to something when there are so many... distractions."

Daryl raised an eyebrow with a small yet almost unnoticable smirk. "Okay, enough," he said. "Let me tell ya somethin'. In this room, I'm in charge. Ya will do as I say as long as I am yer teacher."

"Fine," you answered him through clenched teeth, glaring at him. "But let me tell you something as well, Dixon. In this room, I'm not going to just sit here and do shit! And I want something in return. Deal?"

Daryl leaned against the desk, crossing his arms over his muscular chest. "And what exactly would that be?" He asked, his blue eyes looking at you with a frown.

"I want..." Your voice trailed off as you tried to find the right words. "I want... you," you finally said, the words surprising even yourself.

Daryl just stared at you, his expression unreadable. Finally, he nodded slowly. "Alright," he said. "If ya wanna play that kinda game, then I'll play along. But only if ya agree to my terms."

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart racing in your chest. This just got too real, even for your taste, but what were you expecting? You didn't know. But part of you wanted this as much as you tried to deny it. "Wait… What? What terms exactly? What…"

"First, this stays between us. No one can know about our... arrangement. Second, ya will do whatever I say, both in and outta this room. And third, ya will keep up with yer damn work from now on and calm down with yer shitty behavior."

You nodded slowly, feeling your pulse racing at the thought of what you're about to agree to. "Fine," you answered. "I accept your terms."

Daryl then moved towards you again. "Good," he said, reaching out to cup your chin with his hand. Then it happened. He leaned in closer once more. Your breathing stopped for a moment as his lips brushed against yours, teasing you with a hint of a kiss.

"Dixon," you breathed, half a protest and half a plea. "Don't you fucking dare."

"Shut up," he murmured against your lips before kissing them fully, his hands framing your face.

The kiss was intoxicating—all heat and urgency. You melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss, feeling the world around you fade away while tasting nicotine on your tongue… and you wanted more.

"Yer gonna do everythin' I tell ya to do," he mumbled, his lips brushing lightly against your ear after he broke the kiss. "And if ya disobey me, there will be consequences. But I think ya know that by now, don't ya?"

You gasped as one of his hands moved away from your chin, along the side of your neck, before slipping beneath the collar of your shirt, grabbing it, and pulling you out of the chair toward the front desk.

"Yes," you whispered, feeling yourself already getting wetter with every passing second. "I know and I understand."

Daryl's grip on your neck tightened ever so slightly, and you let out a small moan. "Good," he said, smirking a little. "Now, ya better be gettin' down on yer knees."

You hesitated for just a moment before slowly sinking down onto the floor of the room, watching as Daryl undid the button of his pants. "Take it out," he commanded.

You reached out with trembling hands, fumbling around as you pulled his thick, hard cock out.

"Now, put it in yer mouth," Daryl said. "And don't ya dare bite down on it."

You smirked and leaned forward, wrapping your lips around the head of Daryl's cock and sucking gently while looking up at him. He let out a groan, his fingers holding your head and playing with your hair as he began to guide you and move his hips.

"That's it," he murmured. "Jus' like that. Suck it harder. Show me how much ya wanna be good again."

You obeyed his command, applying more pressure with your lips as you worked your way further down his swelling shaft. His breathing got more uneven, and you could tell just how much he was enjoying this already.

"Yeah, jus' like that," he said breathlessly, his hips beginning to thrust forward a little harder. "Oh fuck, yer so good at this."

You felt yourself getting even more turned on by his words and reached down between your legs, sliding your fingers inside your pants and beneath your panties, stroking gently at your swollen, aching clit.

Daryl must've sensed the change in your behavior because he suddenly pulled away from you, his cock slipping out from between your lips. "That's enough for now."

He reached down, helping you to your feet before leading you over towards the desk at the front of the room. He bent you over it, your tits and stomach pressed against the surface.

"Now, get those pants off and spread yer legs for me," he said. "I wanna see how wet ya are."

You obeyed his command again, parting your legs as wide as they'd go after pulling down your pants and panties. Daryl let out a growl as he took in the sight of your wet pussy, his fingers sliding over your wet folds.

"Oh shit, jus' look at how fuckin' wet ya are," he mumbled. "Ya really wan' it, don't ya? Since when, huh?"

You let out a gasp as Daryl's fingers found your clit. "Who knows?" You moaned quietly. "Maybe I did want you to fuck me all along."

Daryl didn't respond right away; instead, he continued to tease you with his fingers. "Good t'know," he finally said. "First, I wanna taste ya. I wanna feel that sweet lil' pussy against my tongue. But don't ya worry. I promise it'll be worth the risk."

With that, Daryl got onto his knees, with his head between your legs, his tongue moving out to make contact with your swollen, aching clit from behind, licking it and sucking at your folds, his tongue moving slowly on purpose.

"Oh fuck, Dixon," you moaned quietly again, your legs starting to tremble a little. "Right there. Yes..."

"Fuck, ya look so sexy like this," Daryl said and kept licking and sucking before sliding two fingers deep inside to pump them in and out of you a few times. "Ya taste so fuckin' good," he continued. "Could eat ya out all day an' night. But I wanna feel ya cum all over my cock next. Hell, I love how yer pussy looks when 's all wet an' ready for me," he mumbled, sliding his fingers out of you again.

You gasped softly, your hips bucking back, trying to meet his hand and face once more. "Hell, just... I need more," you pleaded, your voice shaking while you tried not to tremble too hard.

"Jus' wanted to make sure that yer wet an' ready for me 'fore I give ya what ya want," he said, gripping and stroking his hard, leaking cock.

"Dixon," you begged with a whimper. "Just fuck me already, okay?"

Daryl smirked, clearly unable to resist your begging any longer. "Alright, sweetheart," he answered, positioning himself between your legs before slowly pushing his cock inside you from behind. "I'm gonna make ya feel so fuckin' good, girl."

You let out a gasp again as his cock pressed up against your dripping wet pussy, tormenting you with the tip for several long moments, then sliding the thick, hard shaft of it back and forth over your wet folds, before he filled you up completely, his thickness stretching your pussy walls deliciously. "Jus' take it. Take every single inch of my cock deep inside ya."

You obliged eagerly, pushing back and pulling him even deeper inside you with each passing thrust, trying not to groan out loud at the feeling of being stretched and stuffed so deeply.

"Oh fuck, ya feel so damn good," he said, his fingers digging into your hips as he started to pound away at your pussy with a little bit more force. "Shit, I could fuck ya all the damn time an' never get tired of it."

"Oh, fuck yes!" You groaned in response as Daryl continued to thrust in and out of you.

As he soon fucked you harder and deeper, you could feel your orgasm building up inside you, threatening you to make you scream out loud.

"I'm so fucking close already," you panted as you held onto the edges of the front desk for dear life. "Please... don't stop! Don't fucking stop!"

"Oh shit," you moaned and whimpered as he continued to fuck you. "Harder, please, harder."

And Daryl didn't disappoint you. He fucked you hard, his cock pounding in and out of your pussy in quick, rapid thrusts.

"Ya wanted this, didn't ya?" He growled out. "Ya wanted me to fuck ya like this."

You nodded eagerly. "Yeah, shit, I did… I do!"

"Ain't gonna stop until I've made ya cum all over my cock, sweetheart," he said, increasing the speed, which immediately brought you to the edge like you've never experienced before.

"I'm cumming! Oh fuck, I'm cumming!" You whimpered, your entire body tensing up, and just as you thought, your orgasm exploded through you like a bomb, your pussy clenching around him, gripping his cock as if not wanting to let go. But Daryl didn't stop, even after you've finished.

And just as you were coming down from your orgasm, he suddenly pulled out, his breathing ragged. "I’m 'bout to cum," he groaned, wanting to finish himself off, and started to stroke his cock, ready to let go, but then you acted on instinct. You couldn't just let him finish without you, not like this.

Quickly, you dropped to your knees and took his cock back into your mouth, sucking him hard just as he began to cum, brushing your teeth ever so lightly over the throbbing shaft. Daryl let out a deep moan, surprise and shock written all over his face as he found himself clearly unable to resist.

You sucked his cock hard, moving your tongue around the tip before taking him as deep as you could. His hands immediately found your hair, urging you on, and you responded by increasing the pressure of your lips. "Oh fuck, jus' like that," he groaned, losing himself in the feeling of your mouth.

"Jus' a lil' more," he urged, his voice trembling, but you wanted to draw it out. You picked up your pace, pulling back fast just to tease him before taking him deep into your mouth again. You could feel his cock throb and pulse against your tongue, and you knew he couldn't hold back any longer.

Finally, he lost it. "I can’t—oh fuck!" He tried to keep his groans quiet as he began to cum, his warm load filling your mouth as you swallowed down every drop, refusing to simply let him cum all over you like he'd wanted to.

Once he was finished, you pulled away, but not before licking his shaft from the base to the tip once more and looking up at him with a smirk.

"Shit, ya really are one hell of a distraction," he mumbled, catching his breath and slipping his cock back into his pants with trembling hands.

You stood up, pulling your clothes back on as you caught Daryl’s eye. He suddenly seemed different now—annoyed, maybe? But you couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it all.

Daryl cleared his throat, straightening up and sitting down on the desk with a serious look on his slightly red face, while also trying to adjust his still half-hard cock in his pants. "This was a one-time thing. Got it?"

"Sure, just a one-time thing, Mr. Dixon," you replied innocently, but you couldn’t resist adding, "I mean, it’s not like I’ll ever forget a one-time lesson like this while having something as ridiculous as detention... but I bet reading Divided Loyalties won't be a one-time thing, isn't that right?"

He narrowed his eyes at you. "Yer such a damn troublemaker." Daryl shot back, crossing his arms over his chest as if he could shield himself.

You sat down on the edge of the front desk as well, pushing your luck further. "Maybe I really am. How else could I have gotten you to break the rules?" You bit your lip, watching the way his jaw tightened.

"Ain't 'bout that. Ya really need to get yer shit together, or I’ll have to start disciplinin' ya for real," he warned, but the look in his eyes betrayed him, showing you he was still fighting with the thoughts about what you both just did.

You couldn’t help but laugh all over again, rolling your eyes playfully. "You disciplining me? That’d just make me want to misbehave more. Besides, who would ever believe you? The hot substitute who gives other collegians detention and an extra special lesson? Sounds like something you only find in certain writings, if you ask me. So, don't shit your pants about it."

"This ain't a joke. I may not be a real teacher yet, but I have to follow the damn rules."

"Sure, but isn’t it fun to break the rules once in a while?" You asked to provoke him and leaned in. "Let’s be honest, Dixon. This was way more exciting than any discussion about Divided Loyalties."

His breath hitched, and for a short moment you could see the real man beneath again. But then he straightened up, shoving any emotions aside. "Get outta here. We’re done now."

"Sure… We’ll see about that." You grabbed your bag, trying to hold back a smile as you turned to leave. But just before closing the door, you glanced back over your shoulder at him. "Do not be fooled; I am but a mere troublemaker in thy class, yet my mischief will find thee again—so prepare thyself."

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Alrighty, beautiful human, I have a request for you if you have the time: I desperately need fluffy Ford. I need kisses and cuddling. The general story is up to you, but I NEED sweet, loving Stanford.

hello, sweetheart <333 thank you for requesting this because I also need sweet, loving Ford myself :,,) but I’m so sorry, about the cuddling part - I got carried away and missed it aghhh I hate myself :(((

ps - I’m absolutely in love with ur fics💗

tags: kind of awkward Ford, coffee date, autumn, forest, fluff, sfw

Leaves crunched underfoot as you and Ford wandered through the forest, the path framed by trees ablaze in shades of red, orange and gold. The air was crisp, carrying the earthy scent of damp moss and fallen leaves. Ford seemed to take it all in with a kind of wonder, like he was seeing the world with new eyes — which, honestly, wasn’t far from the truth. After so many years spent away from this dimension, you thought it was cute how he marveled at simple things like sunlight filtering through branches.

“Thirty years,” Stanford started. “thirty autumns I missed. I almost forgot the way the colors seem to breathe in this season." 

He reached up, fingers brushing a low-hanging branch laden with scarlet leaves, and you smiled at that. There was something so sweet about his awe, his joy, so obvious at moments like this.

“Guess you’re getting to be an Earth tourist now,” you teased gently. 

Ford chuckled, giving you a sidelong glance. “Ah, yes, perhaps. But I think I like this. . . rediscovery.” a small smile tugged at his lips. “some things are even better than I remember.”

The path opened to a clearing with a breathtaking view of the valley below, a sea of trees stretching into the distance, every shade of autumn imaginable. You stopped, a thought popping into your head as you took out your phone. “Hey, Ford,” you called, grinning. “take a picture of me?”

He looked at you, surprised, then down at the phone like you’d just handed him a puzzle box. “A picture?” he held the phone with both hands. “Of course, but. . . er, bear with me. These things were a bit. . . different last time I checked.”

You stifled a laugh, nodding as you struck a pose. “Just press that button,” you said, pointing at the screen. “It’ll be easy, I promise.”

Ford cleared his throat, focusing intently as he poked at the screen. "Alright. let me see. I just. . . press this here?"

But as he tried to get his bearings, he accidentally tapped the wrong icon. Suddenly, the camera flipped and his own face filled the screen — caught mid-frown, brow furrowed in confusion. He froze, staring at his reflection like it had personally betrayed him.

“Oh. . . uh. . .” his cheeks flushed as he looked between you and the screen, thoroughly bewildered. “It appears I’ve become the subject instead. Hold on. . . where did— no, this— ah, infernal contraption. . .” Ford mumbled, eyes squinting in concentration as he fumbled to switch it back.

You couldn’t help it — laughter bubbled out and you doubled over, nearly losing your balance. “Awww, Ford! you look so lost, it’s so cute!”

He looked up, flustered but laughing along with you. “Yes, well,” he grumbled, a crooked smile breaking through. “I can navigate alternate dimensions, but apparently, your ‘smartphone’ remains beyond my understanding. I think it’s mocking me.” with a sigh, he handed the phone back, an embarrassed grin still tugging at his lips. “Perhaps. . . perhaps I’ll leave the photographs to you, sweetheart.”

You took the phone from Ford’s hands, still chuckling as you swiped the screen to switch back to the camera. “Alright, here we go, Mr. Genius. Just try not to look too cute when you take my picture or I might just keep it as blackmail.” 

“Blackmail?” he feigned horror, eyes widening dramatically as he stepped back. “Sweetheart, you wound me! I thought we had an understanding! I’m an esteemed scientist, not a criminal mastermind!” 

You giggled and turned your back to him, posing with the beautiful autumn scenery as your backdrop. “Okay, now I’m ready!” 

Ford cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure as he positioned the camera. “Right, focus,” he told himself. “just like in my journals. You know, I could’ve cataloged the beauty of this moment scientifically, but no, I’m reduced to a photographer.” 

He pressed the button, and you could hear the faint click of the shutter. Turning to face him, you couldn't help but brighten at the awkward seriousness in his eyes. “You’re doing great! Now, maybe try a few more. I want options.”

“Options,” he repeated, still smiling, shaking his head in amusement. “Isn’t one good photo sufficient? the universe won’t implode if I don’t get a perfect shot.” 

“Yeah, but what if I want to look cute in a different way?” you teased, putting your hands on your hips.

With a smirk, Ford nodded. “Alright, what would you like? a ‘mysterious thinker’ look? of perhaps a ‘fierce scientist’ pose?” 

“Definitely the fierce scientist!” you exclaimed, throwing your head back dramatically. “I’ll pose like I just discovered a new dimension, just like my man.”

“Very well,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “On the count of three. . . one, two—”

But before he could reach three, you struck a ridiculous pose, one hand on your hip and the other dramatically raised as if you were battling interdimensional forces. “take that, Bill Cipher!”

Ford burst out laughing, shaking his head. You were just too adorable in his eyes. “Sweetheart, I’m pretty sure Bill would be quaking in his. . . well, whatever he has in place of boots.”

He snapped the photo and you saw the corners of his mouth twitching, clearly trying to suppress his laughter. “Okay, now that was an excellent one. Hold on. . .” he leaned closer, inspecting the image as if it were a rare artifact. Ford seemed to have caught fire with the idea of photographing Bill's defeat.

“Let me see!” you leaned over, your shoulders brushing against his as you peered at the screen. 

“Oh, this is just splendid. You look so cute, darlin.” Ford leaned closer to examine the screen, fixing his glasses. 

Your heart fluttered at compliment and you nudged him playfully. “Now, you should get in the next one. I want a picture of us!”

He looked a bit apprehensive again, glancing at the phone like it might explode. “Are you sure? I mean, what if I fumble it again?” 

“Trust me, you’ll be fine!” you shot him an encouraging smile, and after a moment, he relented, taking the phone back.

“Alright, alright,” he said, adjusting his glasses as if preparing for a complex experiment. “just don’t move too much. I need to concentrate.”

You stood beside him, leaning into his side. “Okay, how’s this?” you asked, flashing a big grin.

“Perfect, hold still.” he raised the phone, staring intently at the screen like it contained the answers to the universe. 

“Uh, Ford, i think you need to press the button now.”

He blinked, breaking out of his focus. “Right! the button!” he pressed it, and just as he did, his finger slipped, causing the phone to snap a picture of you both in the most ridiculous pose — your mouth still open mid-laugh and Ford’s expression a mix of shock and concentration.

You burst into laughter again as Ford stared at the photo, face turning a shade of crimson. “Well, that’s certainly not going to be framed,” he muttered, trying to suppress his smile.

“Oh come on, it’s adorable!” you pressed your cheek against his.

However, your laugh made the corners of his lips twitch upwards. “I suppose it has a certain charm to it,” he admitted, chuckling softly. 

You grinned, putting your hand on his arm. “Let’s take another, hun, but this time, we’ll get it right. Just be yourself, Ford. No need for dignity.” 

“One, two. . . three!” you both said at same time.

Click! 

As the image captured, you both broke into laughter, the sound echoing through the autumn trees. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this free, this happy, sharing this moment with your couple. 

When Ford looked at the photo this time, a satisfied grin spread across his face. “Now that’s more like it,” he said, glancing at you with that spark of affection in his eyes.

As you admired the photos, a realisation suddenly struck you. “Wait!” you said excitedly, grabbing his arm before he could put the phone away.

Ford looked at you, curious. “Wait for what?”

“You’ve been gone thirty years, right? that means you haven’t tried my favourite coffee at that little café by the lake!” you could barely contain your enthusiasm, a wide genuine smile spreading across your face. “we have to go there right now!”

Ford raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smile as he followed your lead. “Well, you know I can’t say no to my seasoned guide of modern luxuries.”

🍂🍂🍂

The café was a cozy little spot nestled on a quiet corner, with big windows that showcased the lake outside. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans, warm spices, and just a hint of something sugary, like caramel or maple syrup, filled your nostrils. You spotted a chalkboard behind the counter listing their seasonal drinks and pointed eagerly at one in particular.

“That’s it! The ‘Golden Harvest Latte.’ It’s a mix of espresso, steamed milk, cinnamon, nutmeg and a swirl of caramel. It’s like autumn in a cup, I swear.”

Ford eyed the menu with interest. Well, considering his last ‘caffeine experience’ involved coffee brewed over a campfire in another dimension. . . he was open to something a bit more refined.

The barista greeted you with a smile. “Hey there! the usual?”

“Absolutely! and I have a new fan who needs to try it,” you said, motioning to Ford.

You turned to him, your eyes sparkling with happiness. “You won’t regret it! just wait until you taste it.”

And soon, the barista handed over two steaming cups topped with a dusting of cinnamon and an artful swirl of caramel. The scent hit you first, warm and sweet, making your mouth water. You handed Ford his cup, watching as he eyed the foam with curiosity.

He brought the cup to his lips and took a careful sip, eyebrows lifting as the flavors blossomed across his tongue. The richness of the espresso and a hint of spicy warmth from the cinnamon and nutmeg, all balanced by the buttery sweetness of the caramel.

“Wow,” he murmured, eyes widening. “yeah, this is delicious. I didn't know that a drink could have such a complex taste.”

You laughed, pleased by his reaction, and took a long, indulgent sip of your own. “Right? It’s like drinking a warm hug, this is my absolute favorite fall treat.”

Ford took another sip, clearly savouring it this time, his expression softening as he looked out the window at the golden leaves falling. “It’s funny,” he said quietly, “I’ve been to so many places, seen so many strange and alien things, but it’s these little, simple moments that feel the most surreal. Sitting here, with you, drinking coffee.”

You reached across the table, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Well, lucky for you, there are plenty of little things like this to rediscover. And I’ll be here to make sure you try them all.”

🍂🍂🍂

Stepping out of the café, the refreshing autumn air greeted you both, still tinged with the scent of cinnamon and coffee. Ford held the door for you, the smile never quite leaving his face as he watched you rummage in your bag for something. Finally, you pulled out your lipstick, a soft, rich shade that matched Ford’s turtleneck perfectly. 

“Would you look at that,” you said, holding it up beside his collar with a little grin. “I guess I’ve got a good eye.”

Ford chuckled, glancing between the color and his sweater. “It seems I’m unknowingly fashionable. I’ll take that as a compliment.” his eyes lingered on you as you applied the lipstick, your lips soft and inviting, the color blooming in a way that seemed to suit the season and Ford watched, clearly entranced.

“What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you capped the lipstick, noticing the way his gaze softened.

“Oh, nothing,” he replied, though his voice had a gentleness to it, he swallowed, shifting his stance slightly. “just appreciating the moment.”

You took a small step closer, lifting a hand to rest gently on his chest. Ford’s breath hitched, neither of you spoke, both letting the warmth build in the silence, the soft murmurs of the town around you fading away.

“I think you might need a little color yourself,” you whispered, your thumb grazing his cheek as you leaned in. His eyes closed as your lips met his, softly, tenderly and you smiled in a kiss. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours and you could still taste the coffee and caramel. Ford’s hands found their way to your waist, holding you.

The world seemed to blur, the only thing that held you back was the feeling of his lips against yours, soft and warm, as if they had been waiting for this. Ford’s fingers brushed against your back, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss with a mixture of gentleness and longing.

When you finally pulled back, his eyes fluttered open, looking at you with a softness you’d rarely seen. He reached up, brushing his thumb across your cheek, unable to take his eyes off you.

“What’s got you so captivated now?” you asked, a smirk creeping onto your face.

“Just realising how lucky i am.”

you noticed the gleam in his eyes, as if he had finally, after all these years, found his way home.

[redflagshipwriter]

Hot Ghouls in your Area ch 4 progress

(read other sections of this and more stories here)

Danny floated miserably through the stacks, pulling out books that looked remotely plausible. Maybe he needed help. Jazz would help him without laughing at him, right?

Sam and Tucker absolutely would not. They would think it was hilarious that he had so little game that the universe assigned him a boyfriend via Jeremy Waters. 

‘As if I could pull a guy who looks like that,’ Danny thought wryly, and then felt a little bad about himself in comparison. Jason was, uhhhh, physically blessed. He was tall and well proportioned and his hands- Danny fought down a shiver and resisted the urge to steal another look. Jason was out of sight anyway.

Well. He still hadn't seen Jason's face. Maybe he was ugly! You never know. Or maybe under the helmet it was totally smooth, no face. That would be neat. Danny paused mid motion to imagine that.

Haha. Sick, man.

That concept cheered him up a little as he grimly opened the first book and started skimming for likely words like marriage, spouse, and concubine. 

He didn’t bother reading anything in detail. He stuck a post it note on each page with a relevant term and then put the book in a pile to take back to his dorm. This wasn’t going to get solved in a day.

Ah, shit. Danny paused. This wasn’t going to get solved in a day. He bit his lip and looked off in the direction where Jason had disappeared to do his own research.

He truly didn’t have time to devote to this right now. He was not willing to drop his school life in order to solve a sudden problem. Jason was just going to have to cope with whatever timeline Danny could manage without setting his life on fire.

On the other hand, Jason was a human guy who probably had a life of his own at the biker bar/fight club. Whatever the hell required that kind of outfit probably kept him busy! So Danny couldn’t like, just leave him in the castle to chill.

“Not to mention the fact that he shouldn’t be able to live here very long anyways,” Danny muttered to himself.

That was troubling him. Frankly, Jason should have been intolerably uncomfortable in the ghost zone for this long without specialized protective equipment. It wasn’t meant for humans.

‘What did Jeremy do to this guy?’

Yikes. Did this mean… Did this mean Danny should have given that little cult thing more credit? But Jeremy was just such a doofus. He grimaced. Embarrassing. Why were his enemies so embarrassing? This shit didn’t happen to, like, Wonder Woman.

Danny buried himself back in the books to avoid the growing suspicion that Jason might have been uhhhh magically altered to make him an appropriate concubine to a dead king. That thought sucked! He didn’t like it. He really didn’t like the idea of bringing it up with Jason.

When he had what he thought was a good first round of research, Danny shelved the books he’d gotten out and went to find where his …

He whole-body flinched at the point where he needed to plug an appropriate noun into that sentence. 

“Jason?” Danny called, juggling books into a stack. “I think we should probably get you back to the re- the human world. Before something inexorable happens.”

A pause.

“I don’t think you know what that word means,” Jason said. A book shut. Danny headed towards the sound, phasing through shelves effortlessly. A spark of curiosity lit up at Jason’s voice. He sounded relaxed, even through the helmet’s filter. 

‘I want to hear his real voice. Bet it’s nice.’

Wait. What? Danny shook the thought away, discomforted. He plastered a wide grin on his face. “I don’t know any words,” he lied breezily. “I’m just ad libbing. Anyway!” He flopped dramatically down onto the big chair next to Jason’s, making sure to be extra physical to get a satisfying whumpf. “We really should go! I can get you to the human world, but, uh, I can’t promise to put you back where you came from.” He scratched at the back of his neck. “I think this is going to be a more than one day affair.”

Jason was watching him. There was nothing visible through his helmet, but Danny got the sense that he was tense, waiting for a threat. 

Which, what? Why would Jason feel threatened by-

Oh. Danny felt a knot in his stomach. Right. That made a lot of sense. He felt kinda sick. 

He didn’t let the feeling show through and barreled on speaking. “I don’t exactly have an easy way for you to contact me, but we probably need to stay in touch to fix this. Do you have any ideas?” 

The lie felt kind of gross. But he could hardly tell the guy; “I’m an engineering student in Gotham, you can just call my cell or come to the dorms.”

Jason seemed to relax at the cessation of control. “If you can stick around, yeah. I’ll get you a burner phone, exchange numbers. You’re not going to…” He trailed off. Danny felt a frown somehow. “You won’t have any signal here, actually. That won’t work.”

“I can make it work,” Danny assured him, hands up. “I mean, I can’t make it work here, or I would have offered to help with your tech. But I can pop in and out of the human world and check my messages.”

“That’ll work.” Jason’s helmet turned ever so slightly. “About the books…”

“You found something good?” Danny asked, impressed. “Yeah, awesome. Just be really careful with them, the librarian is a scary guy.”

Jason’s hand flexed over the closed book on his thigh. “I can take- how many can I take out?”

Danny scoffed. “I’m not your dad,” he said. “Whatever you can carry, man. You ready to go or do you need a minute?” He flipped back to his feet with a grunt. 

[brainddeadd]

Thanksgiving

im australian.. i have 0 clue how thanksgiving works.. enjoy whatever this is

Thanksgiving with the New Jersey Devils was supposed to be a laid-back gathering—a few players, some food, and a chance to unwind mid-season. Of course, with Jack Hughes, Luke Hughes, Nico Hischier, and Dawson Mercer involved, it’s anything but peaceful. You knew chaos was inevitable the second Jack declared that he would “personally oversee” cooking the turkey.

“This thing is still frozen,” Jack grumbles, staring at the 20-pound bird sitting in the sink.

“You were supposed to take it out yesterday,” Nico points out, already exasperated despite it being only 11 AM. He’s peeling potatoes like a man possessed, determined to keep everything on schedule. His dedication to holiday traditions is impressive—and mildly concerning.

“What do we do now?” Luke asks, poking the turkey like it might come to life. He’s wearing an apron that says Kiss the Cook, but you doubt it’s been used for anything other than looking ridiculous.

You roll your eyes. “We should’ve just ordered pizza.”

Jack gasps like you’ve committed treason. “Y/N, this is Thanksgiving. We need turkey.”

Somehow, Jack convinces Dawson to try thawing the turkey in the bathtub, which immediately turns into a disaster when Dawson slips on the bathroom floor and soaks himself—and half the room—in cold water.

“This isn’t working,” Dawson groans, standing in the doorway with his drenched werewolf pajama pants sticking to his legs. “Who thought putting it in the tub was a good idea?”

“You did,” Luke points out, deadpan.

Dawson glares at him. “Details.”

Meanwhile, Jack’s trying to “speed up the process” by blasting the hair dryer at the turkey. You pinch the bridge of your nose, already regretting every life choice that led you here.

Nico, ever the responsible one, finally steps in. “Everyone out of the kitchen. I’ll handle the turkey before we end up with food poisoning.”

“I was doing a good job!” Jack protests, holding the hair dryer like a weapon.

Nico doesn’t even blink. “You were about to electrocute yourself.”

Jack sulks, but retreats to the living room, dragging you along with him.

“Come on, Y/N. We’re banned from kitchen duty.” He plops onto the couch dramatically, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Nico’s no fun.”

“Nico just saved your life,” you remind him, taking a seat next to him. “Be grateful.”

Jack peeks out from under his arm, grinning. “I’m grateful for you.”

In the living room, Dawson finds the football game on TV, Luke brings out snacks (mostly chips and questionable dip), and Jack makes it his mission to steal the best spot on the couch—right next to you, of course.

“This is way better than cooking,” Luke declares, stretching his legs across the coffee table.

You raise an eyebrow. “You literally didn’t cook anything.”

“Exactly,” Luke says with a smug grin. “See? Way better.”

About an hour later, the smell of roasting turkey fills the apartment, and the chaos shifts to the dining table. Nico finally manages to pull everything together—turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, and a questionable green bean casserole that no one admits to making.

Jack grabs the carving knife, looking far too excited. “I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life.”

Nico groans. “Please don’t hurt yourself—or anyone else.”

Jack winks. “No promises.”

He saws away at the turkey with way too much enthusiasm, sending chunks of meat flying in every direction. One lands in Dawson’s lap, and the room erupts into laughter.

“Food fight?” Dawson suggests, raising an eyebrow mischievously.

“No,” you, Nico, and Luke say in unison.

Jack pouts. “You guys are no fun.”

Dinner itself is a whirlwind of bad jokes, bickering over who gets the drumsticks, and Jack trying (and failing) to convince you that cranberry sauce counts as a vegetable.

Nico, being the unofficial dad of the group, makes everyone go around the table and say what they’re thankful for.

“I’m thankful for this team,” Luke says earnestly, making everyone “awww” in unison.

“I’m thankful for Y/N,” Jack says next, nudging you with his shoulder. “She’s the best little sister-slash-teammate ever.”

You grin. “Right back at you, Spider-Man.”

Dawson, not to be outdone, declares, “I’m thankful I didn’t drown in the bathtub today.”

Nico shakes his head but can’t help smiling. “I’m just thankful no one set the apartment on fire.”

As the night winds down, you all settle back into the living room, stuffed to the brim with turkey and pie. Jack is sprawled across the couch, half-asleep with his head resting on your shoulder. Luke and Dawson are locked in an intense battle over the TV remote, trying to find the perfect post-dinner movie.

Nico leans back in his chair, watching the chaos unfold with a small, satisfied smile.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Y/N,” he says quietly, catching your eye.

You smile back, feeling warm and grateful despite the madness. “Happy Thanksgiving, Nico.”

And as Jack snores softly beside you, and Luke and Dawson continue their ridiculous argument over what to watch, you realize that this chaotic, goofy, wonderful group is your family. And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

[randomfoggytiger]

React: A Late-Canon Reviler Gives the Revival a Try (Plus One, Forehead Sweat, Ghouli, Kitten, Rm9sbG93ZXJz, Familiar, Nothing Lasts Forever), Part VI

Part I (My Struggle I), Part II (Founder's Mutation), and Part III (Weremonster), Part IV (Home Again), Part V (Babylon), and Part VI (This.)

Had to cut down on my react posts because I didn't have the time, drive, or willpower to keep plowing through at the same rate.

OVERALL THOUGHTS

The usual complaints.

There are overly dramatic "DUUUUN" musical cues, scenes end too quickly, camera shots transition at odd times, and the cast can be too wooden or too emotionless in moments that desperately need something (Mitch Pileggi excepted. He nailed it.) David and Gillian trade off believability in their respective roles; and usually not in the same scene (unfortunately.) Scully is stuck with her 30-years-a-smoker voice; and Mulder magically finds every answer he could ever want from the Dark Web. (I don't think "the Dark Web" means what the writers think it means.)

However. The plots are tighter, the humor more effective, and the pacing (a tad) better constructed.

I wouldn't mind rewatching mid-S11 if it followed different characters in a different show. As it stands, nothing really hit the spot.

PLUS ONE

Mulder and Scully are but aren't but are together in S10 and S11. They also are in This but aren't in Plus One. What the script says they do versus what DD and GA portray them doing often clash.

Yeah, Mulder and Scully are already involved again in this episode. My theory: scoot-in-your-boot is a private in-joke they have. Backed up by: his twinkle and her quick "I'm scooting you out of here."

The siblings were like a Punch and Judy show, get it? (Chucky Poundstone? Punch? Ehhh? Also, Chuck like Chucky the doll. ...And also like the other Revival Chuck doll, Mr. Chuckleteeth.)

Plot problems:

A man who matched the profiles of recent, suicidal "sudden schizophrenia" victims was left, alone, in his cell while he screamed for help. That would not fly by 2015 standards. And if it did, there would be serious consequences or a serious attempt at a to cover-up (which the cops didn't attempt to do.)

Chucky Poundstone: Fight Club levels of overacting.

Mulder and Scully were constantly called hot not because the topic naturally bloomed in conversation but because it was relevant to the episode's theme.

Scully let Demon Judy get to her. Scully wouldn't have been bothered to be out of "child-bearing age" because Mulder might want kids with someone else (WHEN HAS MULDER EVER)-- she should've been bothered because she wasted their one shot at parenthood and "threw away" their son. Wrong track, wrong manipulation tactic. Like point 3, this was only brought up to serve the episode's theme, not because it was crafted to fit the characters.

A lot of Mulder and Scully's theories talked past each other or leaped from point to point without fully fleshing out the last one (i.e. Scully derailing their theories to insist that ghosts don't exist.)

Scully almost threw away the pills Judy gave her instead of, I don't know, testing them first.

Scully and Mulder didn't keep the lawyer under surveillance after he saw his double.

Scully didn't believe in the Devil anymore... despite the fact that she used to, and we aren't told when or why she changed her mind. Imperative character development the writers neglected.

Scully thought it was more plausible that a man would cut off his own head through shared psychosis than the possibility of a supernatural element at play.

Scully was butchered either way: she believes in a supernatural element but doesn't want to admit it to Mulder because Judy might be right about her; or, she believes everyone is in a state of delusion yet still gives weight to Judy's pokes about her age.

The "Can you hold me?" scene was pleasantly in-character for Scully, but wobbled and waffled for Mulder. It also bucked up against their "we're already together" vibe, and didn't fit with This (at all.)

"I don't have anyone to have one [a kid] with even if I could [have kids]." Script, don't insult my intelligence; Scully was literally in Mulder's arms when she said this ("What are we gonna do?"/"We'll think of something" kind of saves it. Rather, salvaged it.)

Mulder didn't see Scully's doppelganger even though he was facing the doorway and was on high alert. Scully didn't TELL HIM she saw her doppelganger earlier (which is stupid because she'd either be aware it's-- hello-- an evil entity or she could be considered a risk in the field.)

Mulder ran off WITHOUT SCULLY after seeing his double and after she admitted to seeing her own earlier.

Scully ATE RANDOM PILLS instead of, I don't know, analyzing them first. The plot needed to have Scully have the pills because she wouldn't have saved herself otherwise. And also: why did the placebo pills work??? We're never told anything about them other than they're leftovers from Judy's food, and that the nurses superstitiously take them, too. That's it. No followup.

Scully continued to drive after seeing "herself" in the backseat. She should have pulled over-- even if she believed the doppelganger was only an illusion-- because she'd become a road risk and was following the pattern of the other victims.

The siblings just got mad at each other and wrote each other's names in the hangman slots. Which saved Mulder and Scully while killing each other, conveniently.

The "Mom" and "Dad" hangman papers haven't aged a day, despite being written, supposedly, when Chuck and Judy were kids.

DD salvaged the ending by waiting in the doorway for Scully.

Plus One thrust me into a world where Mulder and Scully are jumping in and out of bed, from Unremarkable House to motel, from etc. to etc., without ever talking about their future-- more accurately, where the writing pretends Scully never pondered the obvious conclusion.

THE LOST ART OF FOREHEAD SWEAT

This episode worked... up to a point.

As a one-off, the comedy hit pretty consistently and Reggie was an enjoyable third wheel. (I admit: I ALMOST laughed out loud when Reggie shot Eddie Van Blundht in the head.) The writing was tight, the dialogue flowed smoothly, there were no out-of-place musical beats or lingering camera shots.

As a part of the overall canon?

Forehead Sweat solidifies, for me, what doesn't work about the "modernization" of the Revival. Dr. They kindly pronounces that Mulder and his way of life is no longer necessary in the current age... and that's the stickler. The current age. Fox Mulder didn't fit into the current-world 90s, either, because the mythology and Consortium and mystery behind the original show was a fabrication inspired by old politics-- the Cold War-- that was then mapped onto a very loose, very forgiving framework. If Carter and Co. had kept to that formula, had steered away from cookie-cuttering the 2015-2018 political climate into their show, then Fox Mulder and Dana Scully wouldn't seem so lost and out of place chasing X-Files in the forest in their 50s while aliens did or didn't plan to colonize the planet and Skinner might or might not be on their side. Because that would raise questions: why hasn't the Trump Administration shut them down-- he'd consider their unit useless. Why are Mulder and Scully now afraid the FBI will be suspicioned or "shut down" if it's always been corrupt, if even now they serve a counter-culture role to the establishment, instead of striking off on their own? More importantly, in an era steeped in finger-pointing and blame-shifting and distrust and disbelief, there's no way the cases that drift to the basement wouldn't be blown up on social media within hours-- especially when the 90s already had NICAP and MUFON and other groups who closely followed their niche interests. The logic of The X-Files quickly falls apart in a world that would afflict stricter and harsher consequences, 2015 and 1993 alike.

That aside, this was the best Revival episode, thus far, in terms of quality. I will give it that. (Note from the future: that will be outdone, I believe, by Kitten.)

Plot problems:

The comedy bits hit, but Mulder and Scully warp in and out of character to achieve them (particularly: the repeated one where Scully keeps leaving before Mulder finishes rambling. Ironically, it's out of place with Darin's other comedic episode Weremonster as well as 200+ other examples of her character. But if the execution had been tweaked, those scenes would have been satisfying to watch. )

Mulder was LOUD. That's not new; but he was LOUD in the wrong moments, at the wrong times-- raising his voice, yelling, punctuating statements with STATEMENTS rather than his usual smooth pantomime or one-off, quick-witted remark.

The Babyfication of Dialogue continues ("sugarboobs", "I'm Fox Freaking Mulder, you punks!", etc.)

I'll bet Reggie kept hiding from the baddies in Skinner's office, hence why he knew him. This isn't a criticism so much as a theory. Or maybe those two gossiped over the water cooler-- Skinner knows everything and everyone, after all.

The Trump Administration poses no threat compared to the global Consortium and Conspiracy Mulder and Scully faced in the 90s. It was considered a threat to 2016s America, which would explain the "I feel like the world's gone mad" quotes the two leads keep kicking around. But, to them? Who lost and almost died and tried to save as many lives as possible to the Syndicate? And in a mythology that had large, regular gatherings of conspiracists who believed in aliens and distrusted the government (as seen in The Red and the Black), it disrespects the intelligence of its viewers by injecting and magnifying struggles that Mulder and Scully would philosophically take on the chin.

GHOULI

Another bump up in quality. The sharp back-and-forth camera techniques are better utilized with this episode's destabilizing, reality-questioning moments. Mulder rambling about the pathos and history behind classic monsters is a classic Mulder moment, Scully snorting and slightly smirking as he does so is a classic Scully moment. Is this the origin of the "Bob" nickname on Tumblr? The girl's "Kids would get stoned on it, in the summer. ...Not me!" was hilarious. Scully's speech in the morgue was the most Scully moment I've seen thus far. Scully subtly admitting to hiding evidence from her parents in her mattress (like Jackson.) Skinner always gets updates about Mulder's activities through other government employees' complaints.

Demerits: shots and cutaways still, well, cutaway at odd moments. Instead of holding on a scene and easing the audience into the atmosphere, cutcutcutcut snaps them out of it. But that's par for the course in the Revival; and it's not tooooooo badly done in Ghouli. Hoebag Jackson Van de Kamp. Mulder didn't get a moment to grieve over his son.

Thoughts? It turned from gripping mystery to big, fat disappointment. Skinner was great, Scully's morgue scene was great, um, Clone!Mulder had a nice moment or two. Jackson stank. As a condensed, disparate experience? It's alright. I quite liked it. (But it still wasn't The X-Files to me, etc. etc.)

Plot problems:

Mulder initially thought Scully's experience was sleep paralysis when he quite literally experienced this before in Paper Hearts. And neither were off-put or shaken by the similarities. (The episode tries to patch this up with, "You've been receiving visions through seizures. I'm sure this is another form"; but that's after she pointed to an open x-file and identified that boat as the one in her "dream".)

Mulder quoted a quote similar but different to his own from the original show. Instead of, y'know, quoting his own quote.

Mulder and Scully's kid is just Free Willying it up everywhere. And for what?

If CC wanted to do away with William (and that's an if), his death and his last attempt at justice for himself and his adoptive parents would have been a mature, heartbreaking way to do it. But no, we got My Struggle IV instead.

Mulder is oddly hesitant to believe his son's alive-- he's usually the one who is borderline delusional about believing and having hope. Yes, the series is supposed to show Mulder on the "other side": depressed (maybe? jury's out), burnt-out, and afraid to believe. But it goes back and forth on that message so often that there is no concrete change in his character to hold onto.

SKINNER'S ON THE CSM'S LEASH AGAIN.

We're back on the "men in Conspiracy but actually aliens but ACTUALLY men in Conspiracy" schtick. Pick a lane, mytharc.

Jackson played dead but it backfired because his parents found him not the agents; then he had to escape so the agents know he's on the run anyway, so.... *Cue Tony Stark*: "Not a great plan." Jackson is an idiot.

Mulder puts together all the pieces of the case off-screen without us, the audience, being there to see him working the mystery out logically. A "tell don't show" approach that undercuts the brilliance of his leaps.

Jackson let his two gfs see a monster and stab each other.... Jackson is an idiot.

Jackson made up a monster legend website to prank both his girlfriends-- who don't know the other exists-- at once; and ended up causing them to stab each other in fright. Jackson's an IDIOT.

Jackson is an IDIOT and a bit of a psychopath. And a LOT of an IDIOT. And he only got his visions and powers recently (since My Struggle II or III, it would appear); so he had to be an idiot before unlocking his abilities-- like the Rush highschoolers. So. Great going, writers.

SARAH TURNED HIM IN BECAUSE HE WAS KISSING ANOTHER GIRL. I mean, get him, girl; but then don't come groveling back.

JACKSON DOES THE MULDER FOREHEAD TOUCH WITH ONE OF HIS TWO GIRLFRIENDS.

JACKSON GOES ON THE RUN INSTEAD OF ASKING FOR HELP FROM HIS POSSIBLE BIO MOM DESPITE HAVING VISIONS OF HER BECAUSE HE'S AN IDIOT.

Mulder. Never. Had. A. Moment. With. His. Son. WHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHY.

Oh. Mulder and Scully accepted their son wanted to move on with his life, away from them. ...Nnnnnnnoooooooooo, Jackson's not safe and is now an orphan and a high school dropout. NOPE.

KITTEN

This is Blood and Sleepless and Wetwired 4.0. ...But it's not bad.

Mulder snooping around Skinner's kitchen... fine, I liked it. Sue me.

The cop... fine, sue me, I liked him.

Skinner's code name is Eagle... because he's bald. I don't care, sue me, that was hilarious.

Skinner had the best speech.

I admit: I really, really do like this episode. It's the only one that fits into canon, oddly. (Mulder and Scully aren't themselves, etc. etc., blah blah, what else is new.)

My overall thoughts: Um. What did it achieve? Kinda progressed their characters forward... but had to regress them, first. Mind control and chemtrails and falling teeth and Mulder and Scully possibly holding Skinner's career back and Mulder distrusting Skinner but trusting him again while Scully did trust Skinner and was proven right in the end.... And a reference to Mulder's juices. It was necessary for Season 11, character-wise-- a "let's repair the damage to Mulder's trust issues" (which had been resolved?? in This but then wasn't, I guess??)

Plot problems:

There goes S9 Kersh's character development: all that he came to believe in. Right down the drain. (Not that I care; but keep it consistent, series.)

Scully questioning what happened to "the old, reliable Skinner we always knew and loved" is RICH considering A. she and Mulder were questioning his loyalty not five episodes ago and B. Skinner constantly got his hands dirty to help them out (which they largely forget in the Revival, for plot reasons, unless forced into a corner.)

Mulder: "As much as I don't trust the guy right now--" EXCUSE ME. I don't care what My Struggle II or III implied, Mulder of all people, Mulder, has seen Skinner squeezed into tighter corners and still ended up trusting him.

Skinner's getting framed, again, on surveillance tape.

SCULLY giving Skinner the benefit of the doubt, NOT MULDER.

There's no way Skinner's surviving that wound without blood transfusions and serious medical attention. Nope.

Skinner... was behind the two agents... in a pit... but managed to not only climb out but outrun them... in the woods... with a side wound... and knock over a full-grown man... and punch him enough so that said man could get caught in his own trap. ...'Kay.

So. The teeth falling out was never explained. Except to suggest, I guess, that the gas slowly rots them out? Except the policeman and his wife also had teeth loss? Or was that as a comedic bit? Or/and a comedic bit? Who knows!

WAIT, I WAS WRONG. CHEMTRAILS. Really. CHEMTRAILS SPREADING POISON OVER THE TOWN. (Blood already did this but BETTER, writers.)

Mulder's "We're with you" is undercut by nearly 30 years of previous history.

Rm9sbG93ZXJz

This episode is, again, not too bad.

The characters, again again, don't feel like Mulder or Scully to me; but I could see Mulder and Scully doing the actions that the characters did. All in all, I can see why those who like the Revival would enjoy watching this.

Also, I still wish Clone!Mulder never had to pay the tip.

Plot problems:

The world with all this tech doesn't coincide nor coexist with The X-Files universe (and, yes, that including the Revival.)

The whole... not speaking thing. I know it was supposed to be artistic or to convey some layered meaning; but, narratively, it was off-putting. Perhaps if they'd both been knocked about in the field, and it was painful to talk? Mutual tonsil surgery? Anything??

Whipz. Get it? Scully whipz and naynays.

The robots having that much influence over lesser forms of tech (i.e. Mulder's cable, not a smart tv....)

Mulder would have absolutely spiraled if he'd experienced half of what this episode put him through. Scully would have spiraled. None of this would not have been easily brushed aside with a tip.

Mulder still calls sex phone operators; and the machines ratted him out to Scully. Either that, or it was a callback just so Mulder could tell the caller to "Shut up." He's grown and changed, guys~~~~~.

It doesn't make sense why the robots are trying to kill Mulder or Scully if they want a tip from them. OR, one could argue, the robots are threatening Scully's life so Mulder will pay the tip. Either way, the two could have been killed multiple times if they hadn't ducked or dodged. Seems counter-intuitive, and mostly just in service for a "surprise, we just want the tip" twist ending.

"We have to be better teachers." REALLY. That's the takeaway. Not the fact that they were almost KILLED due to the incompetence or oversight of whoever created these robots. REALLY.

FAMILIAR

So. Uh. Classic X-File. Held up pretty well. Classic Mulder eating crime scene evidence. The script was old-school tight.

In other words, this was Chimera 2.0. But not as great.

Plot problems:

The police immediately rule out the child's cause of death as a murder. And think it might be a coyote. Or a coy wolf. ...Uh huh.

"You're my homie": Babyfication back.

Scully doesn't believe in human combustion. ...Honestly, shakes out with her theory having been disproved in Trevor. (Although, I don't know if there was a spontaneous human combustion case in S9, feel free to correct me.)

Scully telling Mulder he's "wasting his time" for wanting to interview a little girl who was an eyewitness. ...WHAT.

The boy's mother is... not the best actress. Taking me back to the OG show at times.

What are those creepy teletubbies. Nightmare fuel.

The community... didn't know... there was a convicted sex offender... in their midst. ...Did no one care to look up, I don't know, A SEX OFFENDER REGISTRY??

WHY is Scully fighting back against his witchcraft thesis when she's witnessed a witch doctor plastic surgeon AND a bewitched doll??? Amongst other things????

Gotta admit: I chuckled when Mulder accidentally got the Chief to confess to an affair (his "I... did not see that coming.") However: that scene was wildly out of place amidst the tragedy of the salt-circle and the possible murder of the innocent-in-this-case pedophile.

The episode just skips from the police officer shooting the pedo straight to the officer's trial. ...What happened to that old curse put on the town, huh? Just... took a break for a couple weeks? Mulder and Scully stuck around, or flew out-and-in while Mr. Chuckleteeth took a power nap?

Officer Wentworth let Scully's suspicions slip to the child's father, at the child's funeral, and is kind of portrayed as the good guy here. He doesn't express remorse for not following protocol (especially to a broken-down father grieving the death of his child), only that he is "sickened" a man (the father he broke protocol for) gunned down another man without due process. ...'Kay.

So, all the responsible parties involved all die because the jealous wife was cursing the cheating woman and eventually her husband. ...But if that's the case, why did the Hellhound go after the CHILDREN first, not the two people it was summoned to punish?? Usually things go awry after a bit of murder and mayhem, not before.

NOTHING LASTS FOREVER

What a stinker of an episode. Just when the cinematography levels out, the plot absolutely rots.

I did like Mulder scaring off the two officers by pretending to be a religious supernatural investigator.

And the church scene was good. It was necessary for this series, for these characters. Glad it was done. (I say Scully whispered she's ready to let go of the past: a.k.a. move back in with him, let go of the files even, let go of her rigid expectations of herself. Hence Mulder's line: "I always wondered how it was going to end.")

Plot problems (well... some of them, lost interest):

I hated... everything about that opening sequence. Doctors eating pancreases, illegal organ harvest, "chemtrails" reference, NINJA WOMAN WHO CAN TOPPLE A GROWN MAN, NAAAAH, GET OUTTA HERE. THIS ISN'T BATWOMAN, BOOOOOO.

Mulder's defensive over his glasses. ...They both have needed glasses since the 90s. Is Scully ribbing him over a stronger prescription?? I don't think so.

Mulder only has progressive lenses because the plot needs a contrast to a cult sacrificing people for eternal life (Our Town and Sanguinarium and Roadrunners, anyone?)

The gore's just off the charts, huh?

Crazy, washed-up actress living off of her shut-ins' blood. Possibly their organs. To remain forever young. ...I unironically read a better fanfic of this, ngl.

There are so many, too many, egregiously many plot contrivances. Wow. Here's just one set: Ninja killer is seeking vengeance but just happens to attend church the same day Scully just happens to attend church the same day Mulder happens to follow Scully the same day the priest happens to put up the verse that just so happens to correspond with the verse on the evidence organ cooler which just so HAPPENS to be tied to a small illegal operation keeping a crazy washed-up actress alive and young while she subsists off of parts from her shut-ins she "rescued" from the street. Stunning.

Mulder never had a dog: confirmed. ...But he did have a dog in his childhood photos, soooooooooo. Guess someone else gave it to him, then. (Or there is no show bible. Or this is an awful, no good, no-hate-if-you-like-it-but-I-don't universe.)

WE'RE STILL ON THE MAGGIE COIN NECKLACE??? What other answer for it is there except it was the date Charlie walked out of her life???? Ugh, forget it. The writers wanted it to be a mystery box. Then Gillian walked away from the series and nothing was resolved, yolo.

Mulder always bears North, Scully says, no matter how hard the wind blows against him. ...Except it didn't-- numerous times in this series, numerous times in this season, in fact. The Revival is, in fact, built on top of him losing his way pre-My Struggle I. So. Strike 1000 for missteps in Writing 101, I suppose.

Big Boss fight with a woman attached to his back. ...Guys, this isn't The X-Files, this is Resident Evil.

Olivia looks ghostly pale one second, then almost normal the second the guy she's attached to is murdered. ...Guys. She's attached to a dead guy. That's gotta be sepsis by the time she's in the hospital, right? Also: if Olivia was in THIS deep in a cult, she would have been devastated, not dazed but delighted, that her sister had killed the guy she was attached to.

CONCLUSION

I'm freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!

If I feel in a ranty mood in future, I'll cover the last three Struggle episodes. But until then, my Revival journey has reached its end.

And what are my final thoughts? The same as they were going in. ;))

Thanks for reading¬

Enjoy!

[pankowcrumbs]

The proposal X Joe Keery (requested)

The night air was crisp and cool as Joe’s hand slipped into mine, his fingers intertwining with a familiar ease. Yet, something about the way he held my hand felt different tonight. His palm was clammy, a light sheen of sweat dampening his usually steady grip.

"Are you okay?" I asked, tilting my head to look up at him.

Joe’s hazel eyes darted down to me, a soft pink blooming across his cheeks. "Yeah, yeah, I’m fine," he mumbled, his voice slightly higher than usual.

I quirked an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at my lips. "You’re a terrible liar, Keery."

He let out a nervous chuckle, his free hand ruffling the back of his unruly hair. "What? I’m not lying. I just… didn’t get enough sleep last night."

That might have been believable if his hand wasn’t shaking ever so slightly, and if he hadn’t been stumbling over his words since we left the apartment. But I decided to let it slide—for now.

We had planned this date night a week ago, something simple and intimate. Dinner at our favorite little Italian restaurant followed by a leisurely walk through the city. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but that was what I loved about Joe. He made even the simplest moments feel extraordinary.

Dinner was lovely, as always. The dimly lit restaurant buzzed with the hum of soft chatter and clinking glasses, but my focus remained on Joe. He was unusually quiet, his fork poking at his plate of pasta more than it should have.

"Joe, seriously, what’s going on?" I pressed, setting my glass of wine down.

He looked up, startled, as though I’d caught him mid-thought. "What? Nothing’s going on," he insisted, though his voice cracked at the end.

I leaned forward, resting my chin on my hand. "You’ve been acting weird all night. Sweaty palms, stumbling over your words… it’s like you’re nervous about something."

Joe’s cheeks flushed again, and he let out a breathy laugh. "I’m not nervous. I just—uh—might have eaten something bad earlier."

I gave him a pointed look, and he quickly raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, maybe I’m a little nervous. But it’s nothing bad, I promise."

That piqued my curiosity, but before I could press further, he reached across the table to take my hand in his. "Let’s just enjoy tonight, okay?" His smile was warm, but there was a flicker of something unspoken behind it.

After dinner, we decided to walk off the meal, the city lights casting a golden glow on the cobblestone streets. Joe’s hand found mine again, and this time, he seemed a little calmer—or maybe he was just trying harder to hide his nerves.

As we strolled past shops and street performers, I noticed Joe stealing glances at me every so often. When I caught him, he quickly looked away, biting his lip to suppress a grin.

"You’re acting so suspicious," I teased, nudging him playfully.

He laughed, a sound that was music to my ears. "I’m not suspicious, just… thoughtful."

"Thoughtful, huh?" I smirked. "Well, don’t think too hard. You might hurt yourself."

Joe gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "Wow, that was rude. I’m deeply wounded."

We both laughed, the sound echoing down the quiet street. For a moment, it felt like everything was normal again—just the two of us, teasing and laughing like always.

When we passed by the old cinema where we had our first date, Joe suddenly stopped.

"Hey," he said, tugging gently on my hand. "Do you want to go inside? You know, for old times’ sake?"

I blinked up at him, surprised by the suggestion. "Now? It’s late, and I’m pretty sure they’re closed."

He shook his head, a small, almost nervous smile playing on his lips. "Trust me, it’s open. Come on."

Before I could protest, he was leading me toward the entrance.

The moment we stepped inside, I froze.

The lights were dimmed, and the familiar smell of buttered popcorn filled the air. But what caught my attention was the large screen at the front of the room. It was playing a slideshow—a collection of photos and videos of us.

There we were, laughing on the couch at home. Joe’s arms wrapped around me in the middle of a snowball fight. A snapshot of us at the beach, sand sticking to our legs as we sat on a towel. A short video of Joe kissing my cheek as I giggled uncontrollably.

I turned to Joe, my heart pounding. "What… what is this?"

But he wasn’t standing next to me anymore. When I looked down, I found him on one knee, holding a small velvet box in his trembling hands.

"Y/N," Joe began, his voice steady despite the emotion glistening in his eyes. "From the moment I met you, right here in this cinema, I knew you were special. I knew you were someone I wanted to keep in my life forever."

Tears blurred my vision as I stared down at him, my hand covering my mouth.

"I love you more than words can ever express," he continued, his voice cracking slightly. "You make me a better person every single day, and I can’t imagine a future without you in it."

He opened the box, revealing a stunning ring that sparkled in the dim light.

"Y/N, will you marry me?"

For a moment, I was speechless. The slideshow continued to play behind us, the soft hum of music filling the silence.

"Yes," I finally managed to say, my voice trembling. "Yes, of course, I’ll marry you."

Joe let out a relieved laugh, tears streaming down his face as he slipped the ring onto my finger. He stood up, pulling me into his arms and holding me close.

"I love you," he whispered into my hair, his voice thick with emotion.

"I love you too," I replied, my tears soaking into his shirt.

We stayed in the cinema for a while, sitting on the picnic blanket Joe had set up with candles and flowers surrounding us. We laughed, cried, and reminisced about all the memories we had made together.

It was the perfect night, one I would never forget.

And as I looked at the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with, I couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world.

[delicatedarknight]

Imagine JL about to celebrate Halloween, where no one knows each other's identity. Superman thinking to dress as Jack from Titanic just for kicks and thought it would be funny if Batman dressed up as Rose

Superman: Batman, would you like to be Rose to my Jack? *Winking aggressively with a rose in mouth*

Batman: *too busy arranging documents* Why? Do you wanna die like him?

Superman: *almost tearing up* n-no..I wanted to be love of your life

Batman: *dramatically turning* oh oh..

Rest of the JL looking at them with stoic face

Aquaman: Do they always have to do it?

Green Lantern: We get it you guys are dating!!! No need to make us feel more lonely!

Some time later...

Flash: Green Lantern are you dressing up as trash?

Green Lantern: excuse moi? Why the actual fck would I?

Flash: cause I wanna take you out *lip bites*

Green Lantern: you should stop spending time with supes

Flash: soo...can I take you out?

Green Lantern: trash talk again and I will throw you out for sure *walking away*

Green Lantern stopping mid way and glances at flash : and it's a yes, you can take me out

Rest JL looking at superbat and then green lantern with flash

Wonder woman: at this point I'm just dressing up as wonder woman

Arthur: I was thinking of dressing up as a clown, but since we already have four. I might just dress up as chucky 🔪

[msmargaretmurry]

I'm the anon asking about hockey romance comments and since I got directed here (no not really), do you have any recs/comments/reviews for hockey romance? (or any romance really)

hello anon! i can definitely give some romance recs and uhhh some commentary on some hockey romances 😂

firstly let me say that i'm really picky about romance novels, not because there aren't plenty of good ones but because the things i love most in fiction are a little at odds with the trappings of romance as a genre. totally a me thing, not a romance thing, so ymmv depending on what YOU like in your stories.

secondly let me say that my relationship with hockey romances is somewhat adversarial. i just think that a lot of the authors publishing het hockey romance don't care about the sport and are more into it for regressive gender role reasons, and for gay hockey romance i'm pretty turned off by original fiction that feels too much like fic with the serial numbers filed off. i KNOW there is good gay hockey romance out there because beloved pals whose taste i trust have recced it to me but i just haven't gotten around it reading it. on the other hand i have a deeply masochistic academic fixation on figuring out WHAT the fuck people are so into about hockey romance when they don't care about hockey so i am kind of easily goaded into reading books that are quite bad because i desperately want to understand them psychologically.

so, under the readmore, some thoughts on the hockey romances i've read most recently and some other general romance recs. if anyone else has recs (especially for hockey but also any romance) drop them in the replies for anon! 📚💕

him by sarina bowen and elle kennedy — this book is for some reason so popular and i can't figure out why. the writing is mid at best, the sex scenes are not sexy, and the authors understand surpringly little about hockey players making the jump from college to pro, which is a problem since the main characters are indeed about to make the jump from college to pro and huge chunks of character arc/conflict hinge on that. for example the goalie character seems completely blindsided by the prospect that he might sign his elc and have to start his pro career in the minor leagues instead of immediately being his nhl team's starting goaltender. the book is also wildy weird (derogatory) about women and also kinda biphobic, which is a problem since one of the main characters is bisexual. and the part at the end where the one guy comes out to his nhl team's pr department as his like big brave character moment and they're like actually we already knew you're gay because we've been stalking you and actually we're excited to have you as a diversity hire and we're not supposed to react like that's horrifying?? i know elle kennedy is a really popular author in the hockey romance space but reading this book turned me off so bad i haven't touched anything else of hers.

mister hockey by lia riley — i ran across this book when i saw the announcement about puck & prejudice and went to see what else the author had written, and then proceeded to read it while joking that i just wanted to see if gordie howe was mentioned at any point in the book. spoiler: he was not. how do you write a book about a hockey man who somehow shares a nickname with one of the most famous hockey men who ever lived? anyway i appreciated that the author did a little head injury cautionary tale here but that was about all i liked. the female main character is peak cringey millennial who loves harry potter too much so that's a turn-off. once again astonishingly little knowledge about the parts of hockey that the book involves. a major dramatic moment involves a reporter from the associated press showing up at the main female character's house to investigate a rumor that the main hockey man might retire. please note that she is not publicly in a relationship with him in any way. do not get me started on her sister the wildly unprofessional sports journalist.

puck & prejudice by lia riley — did NOT have high hopes for this one given my mister hockey experience but me, maggie, and jess decided to read it together because the premise is so bonkers. we have regrets about this. first of all there is no reason for this man to be a hockey player. he is a hockey player solely for the reason of being able to put a hockey player on the cover of the book. also he is a goalie and the hockey man on the cover of the book is a skater. what the fuck is up with that. he was supposedly a forward in high school and then switched to goalie in college and played for a DIVISION I SCHOOL and was DRAFTED TO THE NHL. this does not explain the cover thing and also is an insanely unrealistic career path. in like chapter one he does this "i'm not WEIRD like OTHER GOALIES" thing and i'm like so what is the fuckin point of writing about a goalie then!!!! he rarely thinks about hockey, and honestly rarely even worries about being stuck in 1812. he learned sexism exists like one day after landing in 1812 and immediately apologized for having not personally solved sexism in modern times. the author seems to frequently forget that he shouldn't speak like the historical characters around him. he exists to be a man who always does and says the exact correct thing to be a perfectly unproblematic love interest in the author's milquetoast self-insert jane austen fanfiction. the premise may be wild but the story itself is astonishingly boring. every cultural or historical reference in this book feels like it was pulled from tumblr or wikipedia or perhaps from asking chatgpt "what are a bunch of exercises an athlete would do to work out." i suspect the author might think she's subverting regency romance tropes by having a modern character around to ask things like "why do we have to go to scotland to get married" but it's actually incredibly tedious. maggie said that this book somehow completely misunderstands what's appealing about regency romance and what's appealing about hockey romance at the same time and she was right. also the author spelled baltimorean wrong and as a baltimore-lover i'm offended.

canadian boyfriend by jenny holiday — surprise, i'm going to rec this one! i thought it was a little silly at times but overall super sweet. i read it on a coworker's recommendation even though i was SO skeptical because i want my coworker to like me and i should have known it would be pretty good because coworker has good taste. anyway, usually alternating first person pov sends me running BUT i listened to the audiobook because the male pov is read by my dream man joshua jackson and the dual narrators really helped me get past that. i'm also usually SUPER wary of any book that like, male hockey player/female athlete in a dainty pretty feminine sport (e.g. ice skating, ballet) because i don't trust it to deal with gender dynamics in a way that doesn't make me want to vomit OR understand the intense athletic skill those pursuits require, but i thought aurora's comlicated relationship with ballet in this was well-done and compelling, as was all the complicated grief stuff around mike being a widower with a child. i liked the "hockey community" feeling of mike's teammtes. the actual central "fake canadian boyfriend" premise of the book was pretty silly, but i really liked everything around it.

and here are some general romance recs that i personally really enjoyed, which i'm just going to list because i need to go make dinner soon:

evvie drake starts over by linda holmes (het, contemporary) — my platonic ideal of a contemporary romance novel

girl meets duke series by tessa dare (het, historical) — had to stop listening to the audiobooks of one of these at work because the sex scene was actually good

will darling adventures trilogy by kj charles (m/m, historical) — honestly most books by kj charles!

brothers sinister series by coutney milan (het, historical) — ESPECIALLY the countess conspiracy but i enjoyed them all and think it's worth reading in order!

peter darling by austin chant (m/m, fantasy) — trans peter pan retelling where peter returns to neverland as an adult

we could be so good/you should be so lucky by cat sebastian (m/m, historical) — full disclosure i have not actually read these but they are SO high on my to-read list and have gotten SUCH rave reviews from friends whose taste i trust that i am reccing them anyway!!!

there are surely many other very good romance novels out there but this is all i've got for you today. goal for 2025 find some lesbian romance to add to this list. enjoy!! <3

[lafleurose]

UNSPOKEN- Ellie x Reader (part 2)

Part 1

Warnings: some cussing, lots of angst

♡ I apologize for the delay on part 2! I recently moved, so that took up so much of my time. I also couldn't figure out where I wanted the story to go lmao but I'm done! Here ya goooo!

Summary: someone's flirting pushes Ellie over the edge. Leading to a tense confrontation where she's forced to admit why she's been acting out.

The smell of roasted pork belly lingered in the main dining hall, mingling with the sound of chatter and clinking dishes. The room was alive with energy, people gathering around long wooden tables, their voices bouncing off the high ceilings. Jesse leaned back in his chair, admiring his plate like he’d just won the lottery.

“Told you I’d get my pork belly,” he said, spearing another piece with his fork and shoving it into his mouth.

“You practically tackled Carl for it,” Dina said, settling into the chair across from him. “I thought he was going to stab you with a fork.”

Jesse shrugged, completely unbothered. “He respected the hustle. Besides, I left him a piece.”

“A crumb,” Dina corrected, snatching a roll off his plate and earning a glare. “Don’t be greedy.”

You smirked but stayed quiet, trying to focus on your own plate. Even so, your eyes kept drifting to Ellie, who sat across from you, leaning on her elbow and absently poking at her food. She hadn’t looked at you once since sitting down, which somehow felt worse than the usual glares. The silence stretched between you like a taut string, one that could snap at any moment.

Dina noticed your distraction and leaned in, her tone casual but pointed. “I love you both, but when are you two going to start talking?”

Ellie stiffened, her fork pausing mid-poke. She glanced at Dina, then at you with a look that could have frozen a fire. “We talk,” she muttered, her voice clipped. “Just not about anything that matters, apparently.”

You rolled your eyes, stabbing your spoon into your stew. “Maybe when she stops glaring,” you muttered under your breath before shoving a spoonful into your mouth.

Ellie’s jaw tightened, and Dina let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in her chair. “Maybe the bonfire will help. Might actually stop you two from trying to kill each other.”

“Doubt it,” Jesse chimed in through a mouthful of pork belly. “At this point, I’m taking bets. You two either break something or make out by the end of the night.”

Ellie choked on her food, coughing as she glared at Jesse. “Jesus, Jesse. Can you not?”

You felt your face flush. “God, you’re an idiot.”

“I’m a visionary,” Jesse said with a grin, gesturing dramatically with his fork. “The tension is unbearable.”

Ellie shot him a warning look. “Keep talking, and you’ll see tension when I shove that fork down your throat.”

Dina rolled her eyes. “Enough, children. Some of us are trying to eat in peace.”

Ellie turned her attention back to her plate, clearly done with the conversation, but the tension lingered in the air like smoke. You tried to focus on your food, but your eyes betrayed you, constantly flicking to her. Every move she made seemed deliberate, like she was holding something back. It was driving you insane.

“So, what’s the plan for the bonfire?” you asked, desperate to steer the conversation somewhere else.

Dina perked up, clearly glad for the shift in tone. “We’re heading down to the creek after dark. Maria found out, but she said we could do it if we behaved. So let’s try not to burn the whole forest down.” She nudged you, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she nodded toward Jesse. “If you’re lucky, maybe someone will get to show off their terrible dancing.”

“My dancing’s a gift,” Jesse said, patting his chest with mock pride. “I can’t help that people are intimidated by it.”

“You flail like you’re being attacked by bees,” Dina shot back, her grin wide.

“It’s a stylistic choice,” Jesse retorted, completely unbothered.

Despite yourself, you laughed, the tension easing for a moment. But the moment of calm didn’t last. Ellie stood abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“I’m gonna grab something to drink,” she muttered, not waiting for a response before heading toward the drink station in the corner of the hall.

Dina glanced between you and Ellie, her brow furrowed. “What happened? I thought you two were-”

You shook your head, the knot in your chest tightening. “Me too. She told me she liked me and the next day she- it's like she hated me. I don't know what I did. Whenever I ask, she just flips and avoids the question."

Dina gives you a sympathetic smile, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. "I really think this bonfire will help."

You sigh, dropping your spoon in your bowl. "I don't know. I don't have much hope."

Dina frowned but didn’t push. As you watched Ellie’s retreating form, you couldn’t help but wonder if tonight would be the night something finally broke.

♡♡♡

The fire crackled brightly, casting warm light over the group as laughter and conversation filled the night air. Jesse was in the middle of another over-the-top patrol story, using wild gestures and exaggerated voices to imitate the people involved. Dina groaned, covering her face with her hands.

“Please, spare us,” she said, though her laughter betrayed her.

“What? It’s a true story!” Jesse insisted, grinning. “You can’t make this stuff up!”

“You absolutely can,” you said, smirking as you leaned back on the log. Despite the lighthearted atmosphere, you couldn’t ignore the weight in your chest. Your eyes drifted to Ellie again, just like before, but she didn’t meet your gaze. Instead, she kept her focus on her guitar, her fingers plucking at the strings absently like she wasn’t part of the group at all.

She’d been distant all night. Just like she’d been distant for weeks. Even now, sitting a few feet away, she felt unreachable.

It hurt.

You didn’t know what you had done wrong—if you had done anything at all. The warm familiarity that once sat between you had turned cold, and you weren’t sure how to get it back.

“Alright, Y/N,” Jesse said, pointing at you with a grin. “Your turn. Most embarrassing moment—go.”

You groaned, but the attention from the group gave you no choice. “Fine. You know why I’m not allowed to solo patrol anymore?”

Ellie’s fingers faltered over the guitar strings, and her lips twitched into the smallest of smiles. She didn’t look up, but the soft laugh she let out gave you a flicker of hope.

Dina raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Care to share, Ellie?"

Ellie looked up then, but not at you. “No, I—I'm good.”

The group fell silent. Ellie glanced your way for the briefest moment before turning back to her guitar.

You knew why she laughed. She was there. It was a memory that had brought the two of you closer. You remembered clinging onto Ellie as your feet touched the ground. The hesitant way her arms wrapped around your waist, when you kissed her in thanks. The first time you'd kissed a girl and known—really known—that you’d fallen deep.

But whatever warmth she’d felt in that memory was gone now. She shut herself off quickly.

A kick to your foot snapped you out of your thoughts. You jumped and looked around at the group. “Sorry. I lost my train of thought.”

Dina smirked at you, her expression knowing. You frowned at her and cleared your throat.

“Water tower,” you began. “Amazing view, right? So I thought, hey, let me climb it and check it out. Turns out I’m terrible with heights. Got stuck up there for hours.”

“No way,” Dina said, her laughter already bubbling up. “How long were you stuck?”

“Four hours,” you admitted, grinning sheepishly. “Ellie eventually found me with Shimmer, but it took her an hour just to convince me to climb down.”

The group erupted into laughter—except for Ellie. She barely reacted, just kept her focus on the guitar, her smile long gone.

That stung.

Before you could dwell on it, Jane's voice echoed in the night.

“Heights, huh?” she said, her voice smooth, teasing. “Didn’t peg you for someone afraid of anything.”

You looked up at her, caught off guard.

Jane—the prettiest girl in Jackson. You know the saying "tall, dark, and handsome"? That was her. Everyone either wanted to be her or wanted her. Everyone, of course, except for you.

She gave you a slow, lazy smile, taking a seat on the log next to you, her posture completely relaxed. She brushed her long braid over her shoulder, her dark eyes flickering with amusement as she watched you. “So, since you can’t solo patrol, when do we get to go together?”

Her long fingers traced over your arm in a way that was almost absentminded. Or maybe it was intentional. With Jane, it was hard to tell.

You weren’t expecting this. Jane never showed interest in anyone—until now. And maybe that was what threw you off.

You didn’t know how to react.

She was pretty. She was easy to talk to. She wasn’t cold or distant. But she also wasn’t—

You glanced at Ellie.

Her jaw was set. Her hands gripped the guitar tighter, her knuckles pale in the firelight.

Jane, either oblivious or fully enjoying herself, leaned in just a little more. “We’d make a great team. I mean, someone’s gotta keep you from getting stuck in trees.”

Jesse whistled. “Damn, Jane. You’re really laying it on thick.”

Jane smirked, her gaze still locked on you. “What can I say? I know what I like.”

Ellie’s strumming stopped completely. The fire crackled, but the tension around you burned hotter.

You felt Ellie’s gaze, sharp as a blade against the side of your face, but you didn’t look at her.

“Come on,” Jane continued, her voice dropping to something more private. “You and I both know patrol’s boring when the company isn’t good. And I think we’d have fun.”

You swallowed. “I—”

Jane didn’t let you finish. “What do you say, Y/N?” she mused, tilting her head. “Think you can handle me?”

Ellie abruptly stood up, her voice void of emotion. “Need more firewood.”

She didn’t wait for a response before walking off toward the treeline.

Jane arched a brow as she watched Ellie go, then turned back to you with a slow, knowing smirk. “Huh.”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling exposed. “What?”

Jane’s smile widened. “Nothing. Just… interesting.”

It didn’t feel like nothing.

Some time had passed, and Ellie was nowhere to be found. Jane kept talking, but her voice faded into the background as your focus shifted elsewhere.

You weren’t listening. Not really.

Your mind was on Ellie—on the way she had stormed off, her shoulders tense, her death grip on her guitar like she was barely holding herself together. She hadn’t come back. Hadn’t even glanced your way since she left.

You tried to ignore the uneasy feeling gnawing at your chest, but it wouldn’t go away.

“I’ll see you later,” you muttered, cutting Jane off as you stood.

She blinked in surprise. “Oh?”

You hesitated, but you didn’t have time to play whatever game she had started. “Yeah. I just—need to check on something.”

Jane didn’t press. She only smirked, like she already knew.

You didn’t wait for a response before you turned, heading toward the trees where you last saw Ellie disappear. The bonfire’s warmth faded behind you as the quiet night wrapped around you instead.

Then, you heard it.

A guitar.

The melody was soft, familiar—achingly familiar. It was the same song she played for you the night of the water tower incident. Where she kissed you back.

The night everything changed.

You followed the sound until you found her sitting beneath a tree, guitar in her lap, fingers plucking the strings in slow, absentminded strokes.

For a second, you just stood there, watching her, feeling something tighten in your chest. The moonlight carved shadows across her face, her expression unreadable.

This was your chance.

Here, where she couldn’t run.

“You okay?” you asked cautiously.

Ellie stilled. Her fingers froze mid-chord before she exhaled sharply, her shoulders rising and falling with the breath.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she muttered.

You frowned. “You stormed off and never came back.”

Ellie turned then, finally meeting your gaze—but her eyes were cold, detached, nothing like they used to be.

“You wanted me to come back for what?” she said flatly. “So I could watch you flirt with Jane in front of me?”

“What?” You recoiled, caught off guard. “Ellie, I wasn’t flirting—”

Ellie scoffed. “Right.”

You took a step closer, frustration creeping into your voice. “Look, I’m sorry she came onto me, but I wasn’t flirting. I didn’t even—”

Her voice cracked as she cut you off.

“You were a mistake.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut.

You froze.

A moment passed.

Then another.

And suddenly, you were tired. Tired of the back and forth, of guessing, of the constant shift between warmth and cold, between having her and losing her in the span of a breath.

Ellie had been awful to you for weeks, shutting you out without an explanation. And now she was saying this?

Your throat tightened and your eyes welled with tears, but you forced yourself to swallow them down.

“I’m not going to ask you again, Ellie,” you said, quieter now, your voice strained but firm. “What happened?”

Ellie let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “You really don’t know?”

“No,” you said, desperate to understand. “I don’t.”

She clenched her jaw. Her hands curled into fists on her lap.

“I saw you two,” she muttered.

You frowned. “Me and Jane?”

Ellie’s eyes flashed, like even hearing it made her angrier.

“The way you looked at her,” she spat. “That day she was helping you fix your rifle. You ditched me to go see her.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

That?

That’s what this was about?

You shook your head, trying to piece it together. “Ellie, I—I didn’t ditch you. I didn’t even know—”

“Bullshit,” she snapped, standing up abruptly, her movements sharp, restless. “I saw it. I fucking saw it, Y/N.”

You flinched at the venom in her tone. “Saw what, exactly?”

Ellie exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair like she was barely holding herself together. “The way you smiled at her. The way she smiled back. You looked so—so comfortable with her. Like it was easy.”

Your heart twisted.

“You think I wanted Jane?” you asked, voice soft.

Ellie’s jaw clenched. “Didn’t you?”

“No,” you said immediately, the weight of her accusation hitting you all at once. “Ellie, I didn’t.”

Ellie looked away, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does,” you insisted. “Because you’ve been treating me like shit over something that isn’t even real.”

Ellie’s breath hitched.

She was unraveling, piece by piece.

She inhaled sharply through her nose. Her lips parted like she wanted to argue, but she hesitated.

And then—

Her face changed.

It was just for a second. A flicker.

Her eyes moved between yours, searching, like she was looking for something—some kind of proof that she was wrong. But beneath it, you saw everything.

Anger. Frustration.

Sadness.

Guilt.

It all crashed together in one fleeting expression before her face hardened again.

But it was too late. You had seen it.

Ellie let out a shaky breath, looking away.

“I was scared,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

You stared at her, heart pounding. “Scared of what?”

Ellie swallowed hard, her eyes glassy now.

“Scared of screwing this up,” she whispered. “Scared of losing you.”

You felt the anger in your chest waver, flickering between frustration and something else—something deeper, something raw. You had spent so long trying to figure out what you did wrong. Trying to understand why she had suddenly become so distant.

And all this time... she was scared?

Your voice was quiet, careful. "Then why did you push me away?"

Ellie’s lip trembled. Her fingers twitched at her side, as if she was holding back.

Her green eyes fixed onto yours, eyes glossy and tired. "I thought it would hurt less."

Your heart ached at her words, your chest tightening as you held back your tears.

You stared at her, at the way her shoulders hunched, at the way she dropped her gaze. You hadn't seen her like this in a long time.

Vulnerable.

Exposed.

"I know it's fucking stupid. I thought shutting you out, and- hurting you would help me get over you. That eventually I'd stop feeling all of this."

You swallowed hard, "And did you?"

Ellie blinks, confused.

"Get over me," you clarified.

She let out a slow shaky breath, "No. I never did."

Her words hung between you. The weight of everything-- weeks of tension, confusion, and aching silence-- pressed against you chest. You weren't sure what to say. You finally had you answer, but you hadn't expected this.

Ellie looked exhausted, she had been carrying this for far too long, her admittance draining every last bit of fight from her.

Jane-- all of this because of her.

You had seen her around Jackson, seen how she interacted with others. She was outgoing, friendly-- maybe even a little too friendly-- but you figured that was just who she was. When she offered to help you with your rifle, you hadn't thought twice about it.

Because to you, it had meant nothing. But, it meant everything to Ellie.

"Ellie, I never wanted Jane."

"I know." She lets out a self-deprecating laugh. "I know. But I still thought... what if you did? What if one day you realized you could have something - someone, easier?"

That caught you off guard, "Easier?"

She rubs her face before resting her hand on her neck. She rubs it slowly. Her voice is hoarse, "Yes. Someone who isn't a fucking mess. Someone who doesn't run away when they're hurt."

You had stepped forward without realizing, "If I wanted something easier, don't you think I would have walked away by now?"

Ellie drops her hand, eyes fluttering to the ground, "I don't know."

You were close enough to Ellie now, able to trace your fingertips on her hand. "Well I do. And, I want you. Even when you make it difficult or when you shut me out. But I need you to meet me halfway."

Ellie looked at you then-- really looked at you.

For the first time in weeks you could see her defenses faltering. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. "I don't know how."

Your heart ached. She had spent so long running and convincing herself that real love was something meant for other people. Not her.

You took a slow, measured breath as your hand found hers. You could hear Ellie's breath hitch at the contact.

"Ellie.'

Her lips parted as she looked at you.

"Let me show you."

Silence stretched between you, thick and fragile, waiting for someone to break.

Then-- slowly and hesitantly-- Ellie squeezed your hand. "Okay."

You didn't press her for more. Not yet at least.

Because for the first time in weeks, there was something between you that hadn't been there before.

Hope.

And for now, that was enough.

[kangshxrtie]

Twelve | What if I

"She lyin' to me, and I'm lyin' to her, fuck it, guess we both ain't shit" - B.A.S. by Megan Thee Stallion ft. Kyle Richh

"y/n isn't answering my calls," xinyu complained to nien as she walked up to them.

"you want me to try?" nien offered, casually pulling her phone out of her pocket.

"mayu and i have been trying for the past hour," xinyu huffed. "why would she-" her words cut off mid-sentence as nien raised her phone to her ear, signaling that you had, in fact, answered her call.

"heyy, y/n," nien greeted, her voice smooth and easy.

xinyu and mayu exchanged wide-eyed, disbelieving looks before their gazes snapped to nien, who was now smirking slightly as she held the phone to her ear.

"oh, nothing," nien continued, glancing at the two other girls. "xinyu and mayu wanted to talk to you. mind if i put you on speaker?"

"uh... sure," you replied, silently cursing yourself. it wasn't like you were purposely ignoring xinyu and mayu; you'd just been buried in studying and didn't think their calls were that urgent.

nien hit the speaker button and held the phone out between the three of them.

"y/n?" xinyu's voice shot out immediately, firm and demanding.

"yes?" you replied, bracing yourself.

"what is this behavior?" she asked, the mock exasperation in her tone making it clear she wasn't letting this slide.

"well..." you began, searching for an excuse but coming up empty. "i see how it is, y/n," mayu said, shaking her head in mock disappointment. "i'll remember this betrayal."

"what did you two even want?" you asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from the topic.

"we wanted to know if you wanted to hang out, but clearly, you don't mess with us anymore," xinyu chimed in, crossing her arms dramatically.

"i do!" you whined. "i was just studying."

"but you answered nien's call," mayu pointed out, her tone teasing. it was clear they weren't about to let this go easily.

"nien's my partner for a project," you explained, trying to sound convincing. "i answered because i thought it might be important."

"and what if i was dying on the side of the road?" xinyu asked, feigning offense.

"why would you call me and not, i don't know, the ambulance?" you shot back.

"you could've been my last call," xinyu said, ignoring your logic entirely, "and you didn't even answer."

"what did you two actually want?" you asked again, rolling your eyes playfully.

"we wanted to invite you to grab something to eat with us," mayu replied.

"just to be clear, i'm not paying for anyone," you said, already wary of their antics.

"is that what you think of us?" xinyu gasped like you'd just accused them of something heinous. "we only wanted to hang out with our dear friend y/n."

"i've been lied to before," you muttered, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

"come on," mayu coaxed. "it'll be fun. besides, nien's coming too."

"when was i invited?" nien's voice chimed in from the background.

"just now," xinyu said without missing a beat. "and you're coming with us."

you groaned loudly, knowing you had no choice in the matter. "fine, i'll go. just send me the location."

"yay!" mayu cheered triumphantly.

"great," nien said, suddenly grabbing the phone. "hanging up now. see you there!"

you tried to suppress a smile but failed miserably. you were just happy you'd get to see nien today.

"what have you been up to today?" xinyu asked, poking at her food.

"just studying," you replied with a shrug, taking a sip of your drink.

"studying? or avoiding us?" mayu teased, giving you a side-eye.

"why would i avoid you?" you said, feigning innocence.

"i don't know, maybe because someone ignored my call earlier?" xinyu said, narrowing her eyes at you.

you groaned, already sensing where this was going. "oh my god, i already explained this! i thought nien's call was about our project!"

"and i could've been calling to save your life," xinyu shot back, biting into her fry.

"yeah, but you weren't," you countered, rolling your eyes. "i thought you were calling to ask some stupid shit like what time i woke up or something."

"she's got a point," nien chimed in, smirking as she leaned back in her seat. "i've gotten some of those calls before."

"nien you get no say in this," xinyu said, glaring at her.

"what?" nien said, holding her hands up in mock surrender. "i was just saying, if you're dying, maybe don't call y/n first. call someone more... capable."

"wow, okay. y/n's just gonna let you disrespect me like that?" xinyu said, turning to you for backup.

"don't drag me into this," you said quickly, raising your hands defensively.

"you're already in it," xinyu said. "but you know what? it's fine. i'll remember this betrayal next time i'm out to eat and think about inviting you."

"speaking of study breaks, what are we doing after this?" mayu cut in, clearly trying to change the subject.

"i vote karaoke," nien said immediately.

"you always vote karaoke," mayu said, laughing.

"because it's fun," nien argued.

"for you," xinyu said, giving her a look. "meanwhile, the rest of us are forced to sit through all of your sad-ass ballads."

"no do not blame me for the ballads" nien gasped, "that's all dahyun."

"it's both of y'all," mayu quipped, earning a laugh from everyone at the table.

"guess we're just a part of some alternate reality where i've chosen a ballad song at karaoke," nien said, pouting. "y/n, i've never done that, right?"

you tilted your head as you thought back to all the times you've been to karaoke with this group. "i have seen you pick one before."

"wow," nien said, shaking her head as everyone burst into laughter. "i thought you were on my side!"

"i am! just not when it comes to your ballads," you said, grinning.

nien narrowed her eyes at you but couldn't hold back her smile. "alright, fine," she said, dramatically crossing her arms. "no ballads tonight. happy now?"

"thank god!" xinyu chimed in.

"you're all ungrateful," nien huffed, but her exaggerated pout just made everyone laugh harder.

once you all were done and the check was paid, the four of you headed out to a nearby karaoke spot. once you were in the room nien wasted no time grabbing the remote and scrolling through the song options as she plopped down on the couch and started building a queue.

"alright, who's up first?" nien asked.

"y/n got that!" mayu said just as xinyu chimed in with, "yeah, y/n can totally go first."

you narrowed your eyes at them, catching the smirks on both their faces. "i feel like this was a setup," you muttered, reluctantly getting to your feet.

nien turned to you, narrowing her eyes. "don't even think about it, y/n. you're going first."

you groaned, but it was hard to say no when everyone was now staring at you expectantly. "fine, but i'm picking the song."

"all you," nien said, handing over the mic as you grabbed the remote.

the first few notes of an upbeat pop song filled the room, and everyone immediately started cheering. "classic y/n choice," xinyu said, nodding approvingly.

you started singing, and while you were no professional, the group didn't care. mayu and xinyu quickly joined in during the chorus, their voices more yelling than singing, but it only added to the chaos. nien stood up and danced around like it was a concert, holding an imaginary mic and hyping you up like a true hype person.

by the time the song ended, everyone was out of breath from laughing and shouting the lyrics. "and you were worried for what?" mayu said, clapping as you took a dramatic bow.

"my turn," nien announced, grabbing the mic and immediately queuing up an energetic dance hit. "and i don't want to hear any complaints!"

"nobody was gonna fight you for it anyways," xinyu said.

as nien launched into her performance, complete with over-the-top dance moves, the rest of you doubled over laughing. she leaned into the role, spinning and pointing dramatically at each of you during the verses. when the chorus hit, mayu and xinyu jumped up to join her, turning the room into a chaotic dance party.

"why does this actually feel like a concert?" you said, clapping along as they sang.

"because we're stars, y/n," nien replied with a wink, holding out the mic to you for the next line.

the night continued like that, song after song. at one point, xinyu and mayu tried to duet a love ballad but couldn't stop laughing long enough to get through the first verse. so, of course, you and nien had to upstage them by performing your own love duet to show them how it's done. but nien started blushing furiously every time you got too close to her. she kept looking away or giggling when you touched her, which wasn't helping your case at all.

by the time the session ended, all of your throats hurt from singing and you all were craving for something to drink.

"that was actually so fun," mayu said as you all stepped out of the karaoke spot into the cool night air.

"yeah we don't do that as much as we should" xinyu said.

"because everytime i wanna go everybody is all of sudden busy and shit" nien complained.

"you asked me in the middle of class one time" mayu said.

"i had a sudden urge to do it" nien shrugged.

"i'd skip class to do karaoke with you" you spoke without hesitation.

"really?" nien turned to you fast.

"of course" you nodded.

"i'm glad my two besties are friends now. I don't know how or why but I'm glad" xinyu said.

"we'll tell you eventually" you said.

"actually can't wait to find out the story" mayu said.

"right!" xinyu agreed. you were about to respond but then you got a message on your phone causing you to look down at it.

huh yunjin (01) where are u rn?

y/n y/l/ni 'm w sum friends, why?

huh yunjin (01) come over

y/n y/l/n u want me to just leave my friends for u

huh yunjin (01) yes. i want to see u y/n y/l/n well i'm sry but i'm prob gonna be w them for a while huh yunjin (01) js say u wanna hang out w nien more

y/n yl/ln and if i did?

huh yunjin (01) nvm don't come overi feel like you'll js piss me off y/n y/l/n glad we could come to an agreement :)

you let out an audible groan as your phone buzzed with another notification, causing everyone to turn and look at you.

"bro, are you good?" xinyu asked, raising an eyebrow.

"it's just my—oh—umm..." you stammered, quickly realizing you couldn't exactly tell them the truth. "some people in our project being stupid," you said, rolling your eyes for emphasis.

nien checked her phone too, curious about what had you so worked up. when she realized what it was, she nodded in understanding. "oh. yeah, i see what you mean. they're definitely annoying," nien said, smoothly covering for you.

"y'all wanna talk about it?" mayu asked, looking genuinely concerned.

you waved her off, not wanting to talk about it. "let's just go get drinks."

"that works," xinyu said with a shrug.

with that, the four of you headed to a nearby spot for some drinks, the conversation quickly shifting to different topics. afterward, you all made your way back to their house.

"do you wanna sleep here tonight, or are you heading home?" xinyu asked as you all wrapped up your night.

"i should probably head home. i have an early morning tomorrow," you said, stretching your arms over your head.

"that's fine. want us to walk you back?" mayu offered.

"i can walk y/n home," nien cut in, her voice calm but insistent. "we've got some things to talk about."

"she's all yours," xinyu said not hiding the smirk on her face/

you exchanged goodbyes with everyone before heading out with nien. the streets were quiet, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you walked side by side.

"by any chance," nien began, her tone soft as she fidgeted with her hands, "are you planning on dating anyone after you officially end things with yunjin?"

you glanced at her, surprised by the sudden question. "yeah, i'm interested in someone," you said simply.

a smile spread across nien's face, her eyes lighting up at your answer.

"why are you smiling? i didn't say it was you," you teased, raising a brow.

"what? i'm just happy you're moving on from yunjin," she replied, her grin widening.

"i bet you are," you said, shaking your head with a small laugh.

the two of you fell into light conversation as you made your way to your house. when you reached your door, you gestured dramatically. "welcome to my humble abode."

"it's nice in here," nien said, looking around with interest. "i can't believe this is my first time over."

"well, we just became friends a couple of weeks ago, and i don't let just anyone into my space," you said.

"well, i'm honored to be invited in," she said with a warm smile.

"you want anything before you head out? i feel bad letting you walk back this late," you offered, leaning against the wall.

"i wouldn't have offered if i minded," nien said, shrugging.

"still, i'd feel terrible if something happened to you because of me," you said, a touch of worry in your tone.

"i'll be fine. my muscle will scare off anyone who tries anything," she joked, flexing dramatically.

you laughed. "yeah, okay. my bad for doubting you.."

"do you have no faith in me?" she asked, feigning offense.

"nope," you teased, grinning. "i don't even know why i was worried. you're obviously stronger than everyone out there."

"i don't appreciate your sarcasm," she said, pouting playfully.

"it wasn't sarcasm. i was being serious," you said, trying to keep a straight face as you laughed.

"sure," she said, rolling her eyes before changing the subject. "i've been meaning to ask... what the hell do power rangers mean?"

you couldn't help but laugh, caught off guard. "oh god, that. they're like... codewords yunjin and i used to keep our relationship a secret."

"so there's more?" nien asked, clearly intrigued.

"yeah, we made a whole list. we came up with it for when we hung out with common friends," you explained.

"i have to see this list," nien said, sitting up with newfound determination.

"no way, that's shits embarrassing," you said, shaking your head.

"embarrassing? power ranger and simba are already cute! it can't be worse than that," she teased.

"we only used words that wouldn't come up in normal conversation," you said defensively.

"come on! i need to see how bad it gets," she said, moving closer to you, her excitement evident.

"it's safely locked away in my notes. you'll never see it," you declared, crossing your arms.

nien's eyes darted to your phone lying on the table. before you could react, she snatched it up, holding it toward your face to unlock it.

"really?" you said, unbothered at first, thinking it wouldn't work. but then, to your horror, it did.

"nien, no!" you yelled, jumping up as she opened your notes app and started scrolling.

"wait, you actually locked the note?" she laughed, dodging the pillow you threw at her.

"yes, because of people like you!" you shot back, chasing her around the room.

finally, the note opened, and nien grinned as she began to read. "power ranger: i want to be alone with you. simba: i'll miss you. aww, this would be so cute if she wasn't a cheating bitch. white ranger: let's talk later. nala: i need to tell you something..."

"stop reading them!" you whined, trying to grab your phone back as she kept it just out of reach.

"oh my god, i've heard these before! you two made it sound so casual," nien said, finally handing the phone back after reading the list.

"usually, we used them better, but she just used them to get us away from each other," you admitted with a sigh, slumping onto the couch.

"ah, so the plan is working," nien said, sitting next to you.

"yeah, she's pretty jealous of you for some reason," you said, laughing.

"she thinks i'm a threat," nien said smugly, clearly enjoying the thought.

"you're too cute to be a threat."

"what? i'm literally in the process of stealing you from yunjin," she said, moving closer to you.

"are you, though?" you teased, raising an eyebrow.

"do you doubt me?" nien asked, her voice low as she gently brushed your hair aside. she leaned in, her lips brushing against your neck. "so you're saying i couldn't steal you if i wanted to?"

you shook your head, staying still to see if she'd follow through.

she pressed her lips lightly against your neck, trailing soft kisses up to the corner of your mouth. "really?" she whispered again.

"i mean... maybe," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

at that, nien pulled back with a small, satisfied smile. though she wanted to go further, she didn't want to make you a cheater too.

as she leaned back, you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

"if you want, you could just spend the night," you offered, trying to play it cool despite your racing heart.

"are you sure?" nien asked, her eyes meeting yours.

"yeah, you should take the offer. i don't just let anyone stay over," you said with a smirk.

"how could i say no to that?" she replied, grinning.

Masterlist ــــــﮩ٨ـ Next

[peppymintdreams]

Hot and Sweaty…. Ramen

Elias x Barista

The room was bathed in the soft glow of the kitchen lights as Elias and Barista sat across from each other, sweaty and out of energy, the only sounds being the quiet slurps of ramen noodles and the soft clink of chopsticks against bowls. The aftermath of their intimate moment still hung in the air, a subtle hum of energy lingering between them. Their clothes were hastily thrown back on—Elias in his loose-fitting joggers and Barista in a stolen shirt that definitely wasn’t theirs but smelled like him.

Barista was the first to break the silence, glancing at Elias with a lazy, satisfied smirk. “I think that’s the best “workout” (sex code for the cameras) I’ve had all week.”

Elias grinned around his chopsticks, shaking his head in amusement. “Yeah, I’ll bet. Almost made me forget we were starving before.”

Barista chuckled, twirling some noodles in their bowl. “And now here we are, post-workout meal, looking like we just survived a war.”

Elias leaned back in his chair, his muscles still loose and relaxed from the earlier intensity. He reached over to ruffle Barista’s hair, a playful glint in his eyes. “You say that like I didn’t win.”

Barista raised an eyebrow, pausing mid-bite. “Oh? You won?”

Elias shrugged, fighting a smirk as he slurped more noodles. “I think the evidence speaks for itself, the bet was that you wouldn’t make a noise.”

He said “ahem” clearing in his throat “Harder Elias!” He screamed,

Barista rolled their eyes, but couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. “You’re impossible.”

“I know.” Elias leaned forward, his eyes gleaming mischievously. “But you’re still here, aren’t you?”

Barista gave him a look, a mockingly thoughtful expression. “Hmm, you’ve got a point. But it might just be the ramen. It’s really good.”

Elias feigned a hurt expression, dramatically clutching his chest. “Ouch. Reduced to just being a ramen chef. That’s cold, even for you.”

Barista leaned forward, placing their chopsticks down with a small clatter. “Well,” they said in a low, teasing voice, “you did bring the heat earlier. Guess I’m just balancing it out.”

Elias chuckled, his gaze softening as he watched them. “Fair enough. But next time, I expect some gratitude for my culinary skills. It’s not every day you get ramen like this after... you know.”

Barista smirked, picking up their bowl and taking a long, exaggerated slurp. “Fine. Consider me grateful.”

“Good, because I might just make you crawl over here next time your legs give out.”

Elias laughed, the sound filling the space between them, lightening the air. As they both returned to their meal, the intensity of earlier slowly dissipated, leaving behind a warmth that had nothing to do with the ramen and everything to do with the easy, familiar comfort they shared.

Even after the flames of passion, they found something just as satisfying—quiet moments of laughter, teasing, and noodle-slurping, knowing that whatever came next, they’d face it together.

[gilbertscurls]

The living room was transformed into a makeshift photo studio, complete with a red-and-green backdrop strung with fairy lights and a basket overflowing with absurd holiday props. Chris stood in the middle of the chaos, already wearing an oversized Santa hat that drooped over one eye and holding a pair of reindeer antlers in his hand.

“Alright,” he said, grinning at you, “ready to be immortalized in the greatest holiday photos ever taken?”

You raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the pile of props. “You sure this isn’t going to be the most embarrassing photoshoot ever taken?”

“Embarrassing? These are gonna be iconic,” he replied, tossing you a matching Santa hat. “Now, come on. We need to start strong.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as Chris rummaged through the props, emerging with a pair of oversized sunglasses shaped like Christmas trees and a giant candy cane. He handed you the candy cane and pulled on the sunglasses himself, striking a pose so ridiculous you almost doubled over.

“Alright, first shot,” he said, pulling out a remote for the camera set up on a tripod. “Big smiles. Think Holiday Vogue.”

“Holiday Vogue?” you repeated, biting back a grin.

“Trust me,” he said, already clicking the remote.

The first few pictures were relatively tame—classic smiles and goofy props—but it didn’t take long for Chris to up the ante. He pulled out a pair of fake elf ears, insisting you wear them while he tied a string of tinsel around his shoulders like a cape.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and grinning at the camera.

It only got sillier from there. You tried to balance a tiny Santa figurine on Chris’ head while he attempted to hold a straight face, and he retaliated by sticking a foam Rudolph nose on you when you weren’t looking. At one point, he grabbed a garland of lights, wrapping it around both of you until you looked like a couple of Christmas trees.

“You’re terrible at this,” you said, laughing as he tried (and failed) to secure the garland without tangling it.

“No,” he corrected, grinning, “I’m a creative genius.”

The photos grew increasingly absurd, with Chris doing everything from pretending to ride a giant inflatable penguin to dramatically holding up a fake gift box like it was the answer to life’s mysteries. Every time you thought the shenanigans were over, he’d grab another prop and drag you back in, his laughter infectious.

When the camera’s memory card finally filled up, you both collapsed onto the couch, still tangled in tinsel and Santa hats askew.

“Okay,” you said between breaths, “that might actually be the most fun I’ve had all season.”

“Told you,” Chris said, smirking as he leaned back. “And just wait. These photos are gonna be legendary.”

“You mean blackmail material?”

“Tomato, tomahto,” he replied with a wink.

Later, as you scrolled through the photos together, you couldn’t stop laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. Chris paused on a shot where you were both mid-laugh, surrounded by props and utterly unbothered by how silly you looked.

“That one’s my favorite,” he said, his voice softer now.

You glanced at him, surprised. “Why?”

He shrugged, his usual teasing grin giving way to something more genuine. “Because it’s us. Having fun, being ourselves. That’s what Christmas is about, right?”

You smiled, nudging him with your shoulder. “Yeah. I think you’re right.”

And as the two of you sat there, laughing over the chaos you’d created, you realized this holiday photoshoot wasn’t just about silly props or matching hats—it was about making memories you’d cherish for years to come.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry

[shifterbee]

WARNING: LONG POST AHEAD

My Relationship With Reality Shifting

What I'm going to be talking about:

How I found out about shifting

My initial thoughts/ feelings about shifting

What led me to believe in shifting

Why I don't doubt that shifting is real

What doubts I do have (let's be honest, not everyone can be completely free of doubts)

My approach to shifting when I first started

My current approach to shifting

I didn't want this post to be too long so if you want/need me to explain anything further then let me know <3

Any trigger warnings will be in place wherever may be necessary <3

How it all started:

Like many people in this community, I first found out about shifting through TikTok in 2020. In my case, it was around mid-September when I was scrolling through my FYP and saw the video that changed my life forever.

OK, that was a bit dramatic, but you get the point. The video that I saw was this girl acting out something that she claimed happened in her DR. The scene went something like this (my memory is really blurry, so bear with me):

She had just shifted back to her DR, and It was during the battle at Hogwarts. there were a bunch of people coming up to her saying things like "Where did you go?" and "We missed you so much"(your typical 2020 misinformation). the battle was starting, and she looked at everyone and said, "I know what will help us. everyone close your eyes, trust me." IDK, I think she was trying to group shift everyone out of her DR???? either way it didn't work but when they opened their eyes the portals from Avengers Endgame(I think) started opening up and the Avengers stepped out of them. Her reaction to that was like "Well I guess that also works".

There might have been more to it, but that's all I can remember right now. Also PLEASE tell me if you also saw that video and/or remember who posted it. I wonder what they're doing now.

At first, I was a little confused, but then I looked at the tags and saw one that said: "reality shifting." at this time, my FYP was filled with a bunch of fanfic-related stuff, So I guess because of that, I just assumed that reality shifting was just a weird fanfic tope used in crossover fics. I was also sort of on DracoTok, so I wasn't really confused about why I would be seeing Harry Potter fanfic on my FYP.

I scrolled away from the video and didn't think much of it until a few days later when I looked up the tag and saw a bunch of videos with advice and methods on how to shift. at this point I was very confused and I was just thinking "Wait, are these people being fr". After scrolling through the tag for a bit I found a video explaining what it was.

I don't know who made that video. But one thing I do know is that I have never doubted the existence of shifting since.

Why I started believing:

I'm just going to use bullet points for this section. but if you want me to go into more detail about anything, let me know.

my prior knowledge/belief of out-of-body experiences (i.e. astral projection)

my belief that humans are always more powerful than what we usually think/believe.

Also, potential TW: brief mention of drugs

probably the biggest reason was a story I heard from a YouTuber about one of his friends who, after taking DMT, claimed to have lived in a forest with elves for 3 years and was able to give a detailed description of what happened in those 3 years. The story I'm talking about is about 10 minutes into this video I immediately thought of this story when I saw videos of people talking about their experiences in their DRs. And since this drug is something that can be naturally produced by the brain, it didn't seem like much of a stretch to suggest that you could trigger its production without taking any drugs.

I want to make it very clear that I am not promoting or encouraging the use of drugs/illegal substances in order to shift.

My approach to shifting then vs. now:

I have always treated shifting like a skill. At first, I thought that if I practiced the methods/techniques I learned from Shifttok enough, I would eventually have to shift.

Now, I treat shifting as something you allow yourself to do rather than force. It's kind of like sleeping. The more you try to force it, the less likely it's going to happen.

More recently, I have been focusing more on improving my confidence when it comes to my abilities. In my opinion, it is not enough to intend to do something you also have to have the confidence to be able to do it.

I think that is why most people aren't shifting. There are only so many times a person can fail at something and not lose their confidence.

End Notes:

I think that this is all I wanted to say. But, once again, if you want me to explain something, let me know what it is.