#like yes i know but like thinking that they’re destined to always fall apart

[bamboozled-distress]

saw someone say that jason and bruce are destined to lose each other in every universe so now I’m logging out of everything forever pouring bleach into my eyes and jumping off a fucking cliff

[akumakosuke]

Satoru Gojo was born a god among mortals.

From the moment he opened his eyes he was automatically better than everyone, worth more than everyone.

Satoru Gojo stands alone atop a pedestal at the pinnacle of Jujutsu Sorcery, forever destined to bask in the glory of being the strongest. No one could ever dream to reach his level, he didn’t dream to reach his level but it was cast on him like a curse.

He is a cursed child indeed.

Exactly a week after the miracle birth of Satoru Gojo another clan also welcomed a miracle birth.

M/n Goto was born a god among mortals.

From the moment he opened his eyes he was automatically better than everyone, worth more than anyone…except…

M/n Goto forced the pedestal to grow.

Satoru Gojo tipped the balance of the scales and M/n Goto totally destroyed the scale.

All curse users went into hiding, curses became almost completely inactive for an entire year following the birth of two gods.

During the first few years of their lives they remained blissfully unaware of how deep their destinies intertwine, how truly connected they are.

The day they met was another day to go down in the history books.

Two lone gods, wandering a world that will forever be beneath them, filled with people who will forever be beneath them.

Their paths cross and in that moment time stands still for the young gods, a feeling they’ve never experienced, a sudden tugging at their souls, telling them to turn around and they do.

Crystal-like icy blue orbs clash with star-like fiery red orbs and in that moment two lonely gods became a little less lonely.

The two grew close much to the dismay of many. They knew of their places in the world and they knew no one else understands but them. No one else understands they’re cursed children.

Days of meeting for play dates turned into weekend sleepovers, weekend sleepovers turned into months of bonding, months slowly turned into years and M/n and Satoru thrived, they grew and changed but their bond only got deeper.

They pushed each other to the limits, forcing the other to evolve and keep up and evolve they did.

By the age of 15 they were both Special Grade sorcerers heading into their first year at Jujutsu tech.

Their relationship has also evolved over the years much like their power.

They’re best friends, sure they’re closer than most best friends. They have regular sleepovers and share the same bed, unable to fall asleep without cuddling and sure they are affectionate in public, always staying glued to the others side, an arm around a shoulder here, hands resting on the others hips there and maybe they have kissed a few times but that’s just them being best friends, totally platonic!

Do they have an unspoken agreement to reject any advances from other people? Yes.

Do they acknowledged the agreement? No, that’s why its unspoken, just like the reason they reject everyone else, an unspoken mutual agreement to be each others and only each others without putting any labels on it, besides its not like there’s anyone else alive that could ever tear them apart, come between them or even stand on the same level as them.

Suguru Geto.

The moment M/n and Satoru met Suguru their pedestal was forced to widen again.

They were confronted by another and they had mixed feelings about sharing.

--------------------------------------------------

Okay so I was thinking of making this into an entire fic but im not sure.

I have a lot of ideas already, especially about the in depth relationship of the three of them and how they would function.

It would focus on M/n, Satoru and Suguru and how their relationship develops throughout the years in Jujutsu Tech and what would happen during the hidden inventory arc with M/n present and how he would affect the story.

There will be smut of course with Domtop Amab M/n and Subbot Satoru and Suguru .

Let me know if I should make a full on fic or just a smut with a bit of plot sprinkled in~!

[modetta-no-hope]

[Towards the Lost Lamb]

Happy birthday, Natsume!!! I spent forever thinking about what to draw for him, and after going through a million cursed ideas (lmao), this is probably the least cursed one I could come up with!

This piece was actually inspired by a love letter I wrote a while back, but looking at it now, I’m pretty sure I wrote it while I was high on MAMIYA. Posting the drawing alongside the letter just feels way too fitting, haha.

Below is the content of the letter (with some parts omitted because they’re meant only for the recipient). I’ve also translated it into English since there’s no way I’m letting anyone else see the original. It might not flow as smoothly as it does in my native language, but I hope you don't mind!

Love.

The love I hold for you and all its shades.

Have you ever wondered what those shades are like? What form they takes, what scent they carry, what sound they sing? What it’s like to touch them, to cradle them within your palms?

No beginning to trace, no end in sight— That is the love I have for you.

I remember someone once said, “love” is an overused word. Some even liken it to a fire—blazing bright, yet destined to wither into ash. Perhaps they weren't wrong, But I still adore it— “Love” is such a beautiful word, don't you agree?

We hold that love close, Make it our own, Even as we delude ourselves, Foolishly believing that "love" was always meant for something else.

They say love is fleeting, selfish, blind, Detached from reality. Yet even in its selfishness, Isn’t there beauty? A beauty steeped in selfishness, Do you see it that way too?

I've always thought that, in truth, to "love" is to "be loved." Not by the object of your affection, But by love itself.

I’ve always yearned for a love as gentle as water, Perhaps that's why I falter before gentleness. And, well, isn’t it said— “Eventually, you’ll become what you desire most”? So, in that way, perhaps— Love has always answered me back in kind.

“Gentleness” is a cruel word, And “love” a selfish one. You are cruel. And I’ve long since become cruel myself, haven’t I?

You—to me—are a long scarf. Long, so long, endlessly winding. Tight around my throat, shrouding my eyes, binding my hands, Making me a frog unwilling to leave the boiling pot's searing heat.

A scarf so long. A warm embrace, a shielding blanket, a tightening noose. That’s "you"—that’s my "love".

A warm embrace. I give it back to you. A shielding blanket. I’ll give it back to you. A tightening noose. I give it all back to you.

My existence is a love letter—a letter pieced together from countless fragments of love. Its traces linger in every dot, every comma, every sentence, even in each rise and fall of the tone.

I’ll give this love back to you; I’ll curse you for a while. I love you.

No beginning to trace, no end in sight— I cannot say when it sparked, Only that, at some point, "You" eclipsed almost my entire world.

Isn’t that cruel? But yes, it is what it is.

This letter is like a river, Unceasing. No beginning to trace, no end in sight.

“Even as you're being born, screaming, loving, struggling, or breaking apart; the river flows on and on.”

“Never resisting the flow of the water, I let my nerves get eroded. I'd been repeating this for so, so long. Like in a delirium. As if nothing had happened.”

“...I can't say I like it. It's so black, and very noisy when it rains. But I know it well. I know it well because I don't like it. ...That's just how it is.”

On the verge of suffocating. On the verge of exploding. On the verge of shattering into a maelstrom. On the verge of flooding the world with thousands venomous curses.

I want to kill you.

[greyeyedmonster-18]

Ten Fics, Ten Lines Snippets

rules: pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the mid point, pick a [few] line(s), and share it! then tag 10 people.  

(tagged by @femme--de--lettres and currently going through my back log of tag games; this is lucky because i have exactly 10 fics on ao3(( well i guess 9, but like close enough)) , but also terrible because uh, this means i have to go through the fics that shall not be. named.

Well go from New to Old, yes? and i am tagging all my mutals in this <3. tag tag tag you're it.)

Work in Process (taken from a chapter that isn't published yet):

That of the habits Sirius was trying to fall back into, wishing for Remus's body on the left side of the bed and longing to hold him was the first to make itself at home again. Not well-rounded meals, not consistent showers--but clinging to someone for comfort.

2. postcard from paris

Alcohol rushing through his veins, reminding him of the first night they had been in this position, and Remus didn’t care. He didn't care then, and he couldn't be fucked to care now. James leaned forward, teeth nipping at Remus’s earlobe gently, and a shiver went up Remus’s spine.

3. 1% inspiration, 99% perspiration

It was going to be the deal breaker.

So was the shoot for the moon, even if you’ll miss you’ll land among the stars he heard the fourth time they were together, Remus face down in a pillow, arse up, pushing back against James’s hips even as such horrors were being spilled from his boyfriends mouth.

4. No Matter the Wreckage

“They haven’t gone into your room,  you know,” Regulus’ voice said to his back as he started down the opposite end of the hall, “They haven’t touched your chair at the dining table. Father is in his study a lot more…” Sirius stopped, taking a moment to remind himself that this was his brother and if he was going to pick a fight, it wasn’t going to be in with him.

5. Fault Lines

It took time, but Sirius had slowly started building a life that looked a little less like distractions and a little more like moving on--from grief, from hurt, from a lifetime of disappointment at the hands of people he thought he could count on.

6. ten reasons (to go to michigan)

Remus felt his face flush and he closed his eyes giving himself permission, just this once to revel in the high. As much as being in his apartment made him remember dark and stormy days of the past, something occurred to him. 

It had been over a month, and Benjy hadn’t crossed through Remus’ mind.

Because instead of heartbreak.

Instead of counting up an invisible list of crimes and fighting in courtrooms…

Remus could think of Sirius.

7. Carry Me Away

Half the pizza was gone, and so was half the day. So was the hesitancy Sirius had felt to touch the other boy. Even the days prior, Sirius was always wary (without the help of alcohol) to initiate contact. Unsure if it would be okay, unsure if he was doing it right. But when he saw Remus inhale deeply, or whisper Sirius into his mouth, Sirius knew he was onto something. 

8. *grumbles, whispering* From Fire to Fire

“I don’t...I don’t think people like us get more than one shot. At love, you know?” Marlene started, “People like James and Lily? I know they’re destined to be or whatever, but they...they could have multiple loves in their lives if they wanted to. But...I don’t think we’re that lucky.”

9. Chef's Kiss

James didn’t believe in soulmates, or at least he didn’t think he did. He was raised to believe everyone's soul had met others before life on Earth and that these connections to specific souls were meant to lead you to a higher purpose and a deeper relationship. When he met Sirius, he was convinced this was one of them (his Mum even supported this idea, convinced of the same thing). But there were tiers and layers and despite believing deeply that people were meant to find each other, James had lost the faith behind the idea of a one true love kind of soulmate. But the way Lilys hand lit his entire body on fire, made him rethink everything he thought he knew.

10. (scrapping from tumblr here) mercy-- a petunia x sirius fic

The events of the day came back to him in waves, Sirius not believing it was actually his body sitting at the table with Petunia Dursley discussing her dead husband and son as if he wasn’t lying between his teeth. It wasn’t often Sirius said thank you to his parents—actually, it was hardly ever, Sirius mostly cursing them and wishing their rules and influence away—but he was grateful for all the time he spent lying as a child.

[multiples-fandomswontkillme]

~Metal Family headcanons~

These are like my... general hcs)? which means I didn't include my main hc that Glam, Ches and Vicky are polyamorous, married and started dating after Glam met Vicky, and absolutely everything that implies for the kids and the relationships between each member of the fam. Maybe I'll make a separate post for that or maybe not! Who knows lkfwnlfqnf

Glam

Bisexual

Glam has constant nightmares and ocasional night terrors ever since he ran away home and is an active sleep walker. Ches helped him through the worse ones when they were younger, and learned how to deal with them, always preferring not to wake him up but being with him until the episode passed. Vicky has learned how to deal with them, though she normally asks Ches for advice with it cuz she comes out short sometimes.

He has PTSD. I bet it's diagnosed too, he takes medication and goes to therapy, it doesn't mean he still doesn't have his bad days anyway. He's trying to get better.

Glam has talked to Vicky about his past, his father and his family. This is a direct contradiction of Alina's confirmation that Glam doesn't talk about it with anyone but man FUCK THAT. We love good communication in this house, Vicky tries her best to help him, but there's only so much she can do to help.

Glam enjoys gardening, cooking and making models, he also likes doing his make up, painting his nails and dressing up in fancy, extravagant clothes even if he has nowhere important to go.

He likes taking care of everyone's hair, and constantly helps Vicky brush her hair cuz there's so much of it, Dee when he gets stressed over how tangled it can get, buys Ches hair products so he actually takes care of it, and chases Heavy so the kid actually washes, untangles and brushes his hair.

This one is kind of weird, but I refuse to think any adult in the family is unarmed at any time. Glam owns a taser and pepper spray. They're bright pink and sparkly.

This man cried his eyes out while watching Coco. He's hell to watch movies with cuz he talks and predicts what's gonna happen during the movie, judges them with scores at the end and all.

Vicky

Also bisexual!

Vicky's the one who does everyone's laundry most of the time. She prefers it that way since she's the only one that knows how to wash their black clothes so the colors stay vibrant. (This is based on my gf shaming everyone but Vicky cuz their black clothes always look so muted and almost gray, but Vicky's whole outfit is always the same vibrant black colors, so we decided that neither Glam or the kids know how to wash dark clothes)

She has anger issues, if it isn't obvious. I think she also has PTSD, mainly survivor's guilt due to her surviving the accident her brother died in. She blames herself and cannot bear to talk about it, in some sort of deep denial. If she can't remember, it can't hurt as much, right?

She has scars on the right side of her back and her hip, from the road rash she got on her brother's accident, she never treated it due to grief and it scarred badly. Apart from that, the scar of the caesarean section from Heavy's birth. She doesn't really mind both of them, they happened, nothing to do about them.

She likes watching boxing competitions, brawling matches and motorcycle repairing on TV. Loves doing BBQ's and going to the pool. Also an enjoyer of teasing her kids, kissing and loving her husband at random times, spending time drinking and bonding with Ches and bragging about her family and punching anyone who thinks they're not that cool.

Not particularly a fan of make up, skirts and dresses or any traditionally femenine-perceived stuff. But has been making exceptions due to Glam and Ches being unashamed of being seen as femenine, and actually rocking the looks. The internalized misogyny is kind of slowly dissapearing.

Apart from the guns she carries in each arm (I mean her biceps, have you looked at the size of those?? She strong) she has brass knuckles on her at all times. Glam gifts her new ones sometimes, she loves having multiple choices to punch people teeth in.

Loves horror, thrillers and action movies. Falls asleep during rom-coms and dramas. Ironically, loves gossip and talking shit about people. Enjoys hearing Ches talks about the gossip going on in the nursery home even if she doesn't know who the hell he's talking about.

Rest of the family under the cut!

Heavy

Heavy is a trans boy! He doesn't know his sexuality yet though, he's still figuring himself out. When he's older, i think he definitely dated some men but had better luck with girls.

Heavy has had innocent crushes on some girls on his class before, but they never turn into anything more cuz he's not the best at expressing himself. He follows the bother-the-girl-to-death-until-she-hates-you gimmick, and unsurprisingly, it doesn't work.

I'm sorry to break this to u but Heavy totally had an among us phase, and uses so much reddit and twitch slang... You know he does.

Likes bullying and teasing his brother to death. You know that when Dee had his first romance, Heavy was ALL up in his business being a tease and a bad attempt at a wingman. He means well tho.

He's not squeamish at all. Also has great pain resistance. This kid has picked cockroaches with his bare hands and loves cats, of course the cats have scratched him. He's tough!

Grows up to be the charming himbo he was always destined to be.

Dee

I hc him as demisexual. Kind of inherited his dad's tastes for the takes no crap, intimidating but pretty kind of people.

Can't cook. He tries but he can only do basics like rice, cereal, chicken nuggets or eggs. Complicated meals always burn or don't taste like anything at all. It drives him crazy.

Dee was a quiet and very well behaved toddler before Heavy was born. He never threw tantrums or got whims. After Heavy was born though, and despite the fact he understood his brother was small and needed special care, he started craving attention often and cried and got mad at little things. Typical jealousy of the oldest sibling.

The first time Dee fell in love with someone, he didn't recognize it was love at first. He just thought his interest on the person was born out of curiosity and aesthetic attraction, but as soon as he realized he seeked validation and companionship, that he liked seeing them smile, that he wanted to protect them, that he yearned for more time alone with them and that he wanted more than what just a simple friendship implied, it was an instant 'oh hell no'. He wanted those feelings to get the hell away, but unfortunately, they were there to stay.

Canonically likes MLP, psychological and horror anime like Death note and Hellsing, so I'm deciding he also watched Death Parade, had a FNAF phase, is very into The Walten Files. This guy enjoys any kind of specially dark ARG's and knows a ton of lore of real crime, unsolved cases, ghost appearances and other stuff. Doesn't believe in the supernatural, but sure is entertained by it.

He's a mess at romance. Flirting? His attempts at compliments are hardly flattering. Giving gifts? The best he can manage is jewelry and you can kind of tell he asked his dad for help. Dates? He's so nervous he's silent for most of it, but begins getting comfortable and having fun if his partner really knows how to get him down from his negativity cloud.

Ches

Pansexual.

He's very good with kids. He has the patience of a saint and he's laid-back, chill and fun but still is an authority figure who knows how to put limits. Sure, he's gonna let the kids light up a house on fire BUT hey, now they know everything about fire precautions, burns and how to treat them AND how to get away with arson. What an educational evening, am I right?

Due to certain info from the "Goodbye" official comic, I headcanon Ches as depressed. I don't want to elaborate a lot 'cuz of spoilers, but... God, everything related to his mom fucking hurts, man. How did he deal with all that?

Ches has been Dee and Heavy's babysitter so many times he cannot count them with all his fingers. He learned how to put those kids to sleep almost immediately (Sing Bon Jovi's "This ain't a love song" and any cheesy love song in a slow lullaby style and they're out), which movie were their favorite as kids (Heavy loved 'Monsters Inc.' and Dee never looked away during 'Meet the Robinsons'), how to console them after nightmares (Heavy needed reassurance, sweet words, and to be with someone until he fell asleep again. Dee just had to be tucked in, get his nightlight turned on and kissed in the forehead). He practically raised those kids along with Vicky and Glam.

More than once, Dee and Heavy have slipped and called Ches "Dad". Ches immediately gets his shit eating grin on and answers "Yes, son?" and does a couple of dad jokes just to mess and embarrass them. He's actually very flattered and surprised at how proud of himself he is for being a father figure to both kids.

Has a scar on the left side of his forehead due to a bottle his mom threw at him when he was younger, around the time he met Glam. He hates the scar with passion, it's a permanent reminder of the fact she never cared, that's why he always keeps it covered with his headband. Gets sad about it sometimes.

Ches likes to spend his time with a group of grannies of the nearby nursing home. He genuinely considers them his friends and gossips and hangs out with all of them on weekends. Bingo, billiards, walks in the park, soap opera marathons, you name it. I even designed them, gave them names and backstories... God, i just love the concept too much. I'll make some art about Ches and his granny gang FOR SURE, you're NOT ready for them.

Carries a pocket knife on him at all times. This man grew up on a bad neighborhood and absolutely knows how to defend himself, he can be intimidating when he wants to be and will pose a threat if needed. He's fucking terrifying when genuinely mad. Just cause he looks harmless doesn't mean he is, darling.

That would be all!

[i-lovethatforme]

Hi, for the emoji game - POV Peter 🍯🤮🛏💦 please

🍯friends to lovers

🤮fake dating

🛏only one bed

💦first time sleeping together

Peter wheezes out a laugh, running his hand through his hair because what the fuck?! MJ is looking at him with a slight frown but honestly that could mean she loves him or it could mean she's about to castrate him. He's leaning towards the latter.

He coughs, and is about to make up for his mishap because he really didn't mean to make it sound like MJ and he were dating! They've been somewhere between friends and lovers ever since she figured everything out. Peter half expected her to never want to see him again after she screamed at him in front of his apartment. But since that moment, there’s not been a day where he hasn’t had the privilege of seeing her.

Peter told her he loved her, like he promised he would. He was late but he was sure to give her at least that. It was fair and understandable that she never said it back. It had been two years since he last saw her - she didn’t know him anymore. 

So, it’s been five months of walking a little too close and lingering touches and looks that are slightly too long to be friendly. But he’ll wait for her. He’ll always wait for her. And if she decides she can’t trust him, that maybe she doesn’t like him like that anymore - that they’re only destined to be friends. Then he’ll be the best friend she’s ever had. She’s always been his anyway. 

So he really didn’t mean to turn up to her family party and immediately say he was MJ’s boyfriend because her Grams is actually a little too rude to MJ for his liking. 

So he’s going to fix it. Until -

“Yeah,” MJ says, her shoulder shrugging nonchalantly. But Peter knows her better. He sees the blush on her cheeks that she likes to pretend are hidden with her darker skin. He can hear the beat of her heart. 

“Peter’s my boyfriend, sorry I didn’t tell you I guess.”

There’s a flurry of excitement that he feels terrible about and he’s not sure he’s hiding it all that well because MJ drags him to her room mere moments later.

“Calm down, dork,” she sighs when her bedroom door clicks closed. 

“I’m so sorry - I don’t know what -”

“It’s because my Grams said I never bring anyone home because I’m a loner,” she replies with an actual shrug this time. 

“Yeah,” he huffs, running his hand through his hair. He wasn’t meaning to be protective. She doesn't need protecting for a silly comment. But he knows he’s the problem. He’s he reason her family think she’s a loner and people aren’t interested in her. 

"Don't give yourself all the credit," she laughs, an awkward sound as she folds her arms. "I could have told them we were friends but... it might be nice to get through a family party without everyone talking about me being single."

"Are you sure because I can go and tell them I'm a big fat fibber," he promises but she just laughs, her shoulders losing some of their tension.

"It's alright - besides my boyfriend definitely keeps my plate stocked with buffet food all night," she teases. As if he wouldn't do anything she asked for.

"Cheese rolls and an unholy amount of crackers and butter coming up," he says with a smile. MJ just rolls her eyes at him but she smiles too. His favourite one. The one he thought he'd never see again.

They look at each other for a while. Too long to be considered friendly but he can't turn away. Not now she's pulling her lip between her teeth. Not now when her gaze drops to his lips.

"Okay," she whispers, her eyes snapping back to his. "Ready to be the best boyfriend I've ever had?"

"Yes," he answers far too quickly but it's not like he's ever been able to hide his feelings from her anyway.

---

"I can't believe your mum thinks I'm drunk," Peter groans, burying his head in MJs pillow.

"You did trip over nothing and fall to the ground in a spectacular display of being a clutz," she laughs, somewhere close, like her lips are millimetres from his neck.

"I was trying not to stick to the wall," he huffs. But he turns his neck to look at her because it's been at least two minutes since he saw her and that just won't do. God, she's pretty.

"I can't believe you have that reaction when I lightly tickle you," she whispers, her eyes glinting with the fairy lights she strung up years ago.

He can't be too mad he embarrassed himself in front of her family even though he'd been doing a stellar job getting them to like him. At least it meant they were too worried about sending him home and now he gets to stay with MJ.

"You're a menace," he replies, his volume matching hers. "You know I don't cope!"

"I forgot," she giggles, moving a smidge closer. He doesn't mind that MJ’s parents don't have a spare room and the couch was already taken. Not now MJ is all he can see. Even if she's about to try and kill him with her soft touches.

"MJ."

"What?" she asks, her eyes wide as her fingers creep along the duvet cover.

"Michelle," he warns, his hands up and ready for an attack.

"Peter," she replies, so close to him now he can count the light smattering of freckles on her nose. He can feel his heartbeat in his ears, thumping all the way down to his toes. But she doesn't attack, she just links her feet with his and rests her hands against his chest.

"Did you have fun?" she asks, her nose almost brushing his.

He thinks back to how he started sweating when she wrapped her arm around his waist and laid her head against his shoulder. How her hands were always playing with his curls or pulling at his fingers. How all day he was tortured with having her so close and yet it was never enough.

And how he'd stay here for the rest of his life if this is the only way she wanted him.

"Ye -yeah," he whispers. "Did you?"

"Mhmm," she replies, edging closer. He places his hands on her waist because she's right there and he's just one man. Her fingers tighten on his t-shirt as she tilts her head.

"I loved being your girlfriend."

"MJ, what are you doing?" he begs.

"I love you, Pete. I'm all in. If you are -"

"I am," he blurts out, his lips against hers before he can stop himself. "I am. I love you. I love you so much."

"I love you back," she laughs, her lips pressing against his as he slides his hand behind her neck. It's slow and deep and it makes his toes curl when she moans down his throat.

She tugs at his tshirt, pulling him on top of her.

"Have we done this before?" she asks, panting slightly as he leans on his forearms. MJ managing to figure everything out without getting her memories back was something Peter should never have doubted. She's the smartest person he knows.

"No," he replies, his thumbs brushing her temples.

Her smile is blindingly beautiful but he only sees it for a split second before her hands are clasped against his cheeks and she's pulling him down to her.

"I would have loved you anyway," she whispers, her tongue tracing his upper lip. "Even if there are big things I can't remember. I'll love you anyway. But I'm excited to do this with you - just erm, just for us."

"Me too," he says, his throat tight at he looks down at her. "I'm so in love with you. I can't believe we're here again. Thank you for giving me another chance."

"Mmm face it tiger," she jokes, her eyes closing as she closes the distance. "You just hit the jackpot."

[gweasleycore]

pairing; werewolf!f.reader x boyfriends!wolfstar

word count; 5.5k words

warnings; sirius gets freaky in class, (f)masturbation, voyeurism, threesome, mxm, fingering, dom!female, remus is a Sub, sirius is a brat(who knew), penetrative sex, oral sex(m & f receiving), anal sex(m receiving), dirty talk, lots of cursing, again the word length is used (i'm sorry i couldn't use cock every time & dick makes me uncomfy), Lots of praising remus (he is baby & he loves)

a/n; though they're in hogwarts, you can assume that all parties involved are 18+. now, here's a wolfstar threesome no one asked for bc i flip flop between the two of them like a fish out of water & it wasn't until last night the little idea man in my brain said "why not both"

☆☆☆☆☆

"afternoon boys, something you need?" you asked the two boys sat across from you in the great hall, not taking your eyes off your book.

"how'd you know it was us?" sirius asked, glancing over at his boyfriend who was less than shocked.

"i could smell your cologne from the moment you walked into the room." you said dully, making remus stifle a laugh as sirius rolled his eyes.

"whatever," he mumbled under his breath, brushing off his shirt like it would tone down the scent at all. "we were planning to skip our last class, thought you might join us."

you looked up at sirius through your lashes, your brow quirking upwards. you weren't shocked by his suggestive tone, truthfully he only ever wore that god awful cologne when he was hoping to get some. tonight was also right between full moons which happened to be when both you and remus were at your most physically stable.

"i'm reading padfoot," you said, holding your book up, "you interrupted my reading time to proposition me?" you tutted, shaking your head as you closed your book. "i expect something like this from him moony, but you too? shame, tonight could've been so much fun for all of us."

remus gulped under your gaze, your tone daring him to look away, something he knew much better than to do.

"so, is that a yes?" sirius asked earning an elbow to the ribs from his boyfriend.

"sorry pads, afraid not." you said, standing up to leave before you called over your shoulder, "have fun thinking of me tonight."

sirius sat with a shit eating grin on his face while remus looked positively shattered.

"what are you smiling about? she turned us down!" remus said, shoving sirius lightly, "i told you we should've waited."

"oh moony," sirius said, pushing back a strand of hair on remus's forehead making the younger boy glance around nervously, "do you not know her at all by now? that was so clearly a challenge."

"how in merlin's name was that a challenge, she flat out said no." remus said, pulling sirius's hand from his neck as his touch was setting his skin alight and he did not fancy getting hard in the middle of the great hall.

"don't you worry your pretty little head, just leave it to me." sirius said, standing up, pulling remus along with him.

"i don't think i like that idea." remus said but allowed sirius to drag him to their next class, one they shared with you.

the two of them sat in their usual spot at the back of the class. sirius took the seat next to you, remus next to him. this was perfect, sirius thought, it was just the three of you to a row and on both yours and remus' side the wooden desk blocked your legs from view, giving sirius tons of possibilities.

sirius waited for the class to start before he put his plan into action. remus had been unassuming when he felt sirius's hand on his thigh, it wasn't exactly a rare occurrence, but when the palm of his hand inched higher remus felt his breath hitch.

remus looked over at his boyfriend with wide eyes. sirius smirked and gestured with his eyes in your direction, signaling that this was apart of the plan. remus was unsure, but he'd never been very good at rejecting his pretty boyfriend, so he nodded reluctantly and leaned forward, putting his elbows on the desk.

sirius focused on remus for a moment, teasing him before he finally started rubbing his already growing bulge. he'd almost gotten too wrapped up in the way remus's face twisted and his hips squirmed in the seat, but then he heard you shift next to him and he was reminded of the plan.

leaning back sirius kept his hand on remus, not slowing on his work there, and looked over at you to, unsurprisingly, find you already watching them. sirius smirked at your flustered appearance, your lip pulled between your teeth. sirius leaned over to you, breaking your trance and snapping you back into reality as he whispered in your ear,

"doesn't he look so cute trying to hold in his moans like that?" he asked you, deciding to go for your weakness for remus first. sirius always had been one for starting strong. your eyes raked up to remus's face that was being half covered by his large hands to muffle any moans that managed to escape his lips.

your thighs rubbed together involuntarily as you watched him, he truly was so pretty, you thought. you jumped when you felt sirius's free hand fall between your thighs, somehow slithering its way in enough to pry them apart. he looked over at you to make sure you were okay with this, and was met with both desire and anger. sirius knew you liked to be the one in charge, he'd always been quite a challenge for you. smirking, sirius trailed his hand further up your thigh, his fingertips passing the hem of your skirt with an eyebrow raised, like he was waiting for you to stop him even though he knew you wouldn't.

his smug grin only grew when he reached his destination and he began rubbing you over your panties. satisfied with himself sirius tilted his head back to look at remus who was an absolute mess his eyes locked on sirius's hand disappeared underneath your skirt. in that moment remus wished he had X-ray vision and he only hoped this would convince you to join them later that night.

☆☆☆☆☆

"i bet you boys think you're pretty clever, pulling that stunt in charms." you said as you pushed remus down onto the bed, turning to grab sirius, who had his lips latched onto your neck from behind, by the collar.

"it got you here didn't it?" sirius asked smugly and you practically growled, forcing him down across the foot of the bed. you crawled on top of him, straddling his waist as you gripped his throat.

"it seems the two of you have forgotten who exactly is in charge here." you said, not taking your eyes off sirius, determination boiling in the pit of your stomach to remind him just who he was dealing with. "why don't you join your boyfriend up there?"

your words were less of a suggestion and more of a command as you nodded at remus who was sat against the headboard of sirius's bed, shirtless and waiting patently with his lip between his teeth. you tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered at the sight of him, reminding yourself you were meant to be punishing him.

sirius complied, smiling at remus as he climbed up next to him. he reached out to kiss his boyfriend and you smacked him harshly on the leg.

"no touching." you snapped. remus whimpered at this, but sirius only smirked, putting his hands up in surrender. truthfully, he liked being pushed around by you, but from time to time he liked to challenge you, make you mad, he often enjoyed the punishments you dished out for him. sirius truly was a brat at heart and he couldn't help but push back occasionally, unlike his very adorable boyfriend who lived to submit. maybe this was why you found yourself so fond of your fellow werewolf.

you stood from the bed, pulling your wand from the inside of your robes and mumbled both muffliato and colloportus just in case, though you were pretty sure james and peter both knew not to interrupt.

you turned back to face the two boys, tossing your wand onto remus's bed, along with your robes. slowly you began to unbutton your white collared shirt and you watched as sirius kept his cool while remus followed your hands eagerly.

you'd never admit it to him, but you enjoyed the dynamic between you and sirius. of course remus was everything you liked in a partner, sirius did have a way of challenging you without ever going too far.

after throwing your shirt onto the growing pile of clothes on remus's bed you climbed up onto the end of the bed, sitting on your knees in between their outstretched legs.

"i wonder what i should do with the two of you." you thought aloud, looking between the two of them as you pretended to search for an idea. you smiled widely, as if you'd just thought of something and you propped yourself back up against the post on the end of sirius's bed.

you trailed your hands from the back of your neck, down to your covered breasts before you reached around to free them from your light pink lace bra. you took the garment and flung it up at sirius who caught it easily, rolling his eyes at you before tossing it off to the side. you focused your touch on your breasts for a moment, pushing them together and flicking over your nipples, making yourself moan lightly.

you locked eyes with remus as you ran your hands down your stomach and over the tops of your thighs, making a show of spreading them open to reveal your clothed core. remus gulped as he kept eye contact with you, silently hoping you'd let him look, even if only for a moment. you smirked at him, satisfied with his efforts and nodded trying not to chuckle when his eyes immediately snapped between your legs.

you pulled your skirt up further to make sure they cold see before you ran your hands up your thighs to your panties. you kept one hand placed on your thigh, holding it open as your other hand dipped below your panties. you trailed your fingers along your slit carefully before you pushed past your lips, gathering up some of your wetness and trailing it up to your clit. you bit your lip and let your head fall back against the post behind you, letting yourself enjoy the feeling of your fingers circling your clit.

"come on, y/n," sirius said, his voice a bit groggy, making you smile to yourself, "at least take the panties off so we can see."

you looked up at him, glancing down to see his cock straining against his black trousers. you smirked, shaking your head slightly. not breaking eye contact with him you pushed a finger inside yourself, letting your mouth fall open dramatically as your eyes rolled back. you heard him let out a sharp breath, but nothing more. you smiled as you continued to finger yourself, though admittedly you were restrained a bit by your panties.

you looked over at remus who's lip was surely on the verge of bleeding from the tight grip his teeth had on it and his eyes were watery. his eyes had not left your movements and you felt yourself pitying him when you saw how tight his pants had gotten.

"moony," you crooned, catching his gaze, his eyes full of desperation "how much of that little stunt earlier was your idea?"

remus's mouth fell open slightly and he started to look over at sirius before you stopped him, commanding him to answer you himself.

"it, well i guess none of it was my idea." he said quietly, almost guiltily as he had a feeling you were about to shift the punishment onto sirius solely.

"hmm, i had a feeling." you said, looking over at sirius who seemed to see where this was going. there was a part of him that wanted to protest, the desire to be touched even if he had to do it himself growing. but there was a bigger part that wanted to see how long you'd make him hold out, if you'd give him any kind of relief at all or if he was going to be left to finish himself off in the shower later that night.

"i don't suppose it's very fair of me to punish the whole class when there's only one perpetrator, what about you sirius?" you asked, his smile growing a bit.

"no, you're absolutely right." he said, looking from you to remus who looked both excited and guilty at the same time.

without a word you climbed up the bed, your hands trailing up remus's thighs before you stopped, your knees bent as you sat right between his legs.

"hi, pretty boy." you said sweetly, pushing a hand through his hair that had started to stick to the thin layer of sweat on his forehead.

"hi." he said, a soft smile breaking out across his face as he looked up at you.

"you gonna be good for me?" you asked, already knowing the answer. he nodded eagerly making you smile at him as you leaned down to kiss him. remus's breathing quickened as you trailed kisses from his jaw down his bare chest all the way to his trousers. you looked up at him as you kissed from the top of his covered bulge down to the bottom, then shifted your eyes to sirius who was watching with dark eyes as you licked back up all the way to the waistband of remus's pants. remus shuddered underneath you, pulling your attention back to him.

you undid the button of remus's trousers, helping him pull them off along with his boxers, leaving him completely undressed under you. you smiled up at him sweetly as you took his heavy cock in your hand, licking up the length of it slowly before taking him in your mouth.

remus was quite large and you couldn't quite fit all of him in your mouth. he was thick, and his length was more than satisfactory. compared to sirius he did look a bit shorter, but while sirius was longer he wasn't quite as thick as remus.

remus moaned beneath you as you pushed your head as far down as you could, letting your drool coat the base of his cock as you stroked what wouldn't fit with your hand.

at that, you pulled off of him shushing his whimpers of protest as you leaned over to sirius who was watching the two of you with lust and pain mixing in his eyes. you let your mouth hover over his, pulling back slightly when he tried to meet yours before finally crashing your lips together. you swirled your tongue around with his, letting him taste his boyfriend on your tongue before you pulled back.

"why don't you get out of those? looks awfully painful." you said, gesturing downwards at his trousers. sirius didn't have the energy to quip back, instead he eagerly did as you said, pulling his trousers and boxers off and throwing them across the room. you smiled as you moved back over to remus, finding his eyes on his newly naked boyfriend. you couldn't blame him, sirius was quite pretty.

still, you wanted his attention on you. you took remus's hands in yours, putting one on your hip and one at the waistband of your panties underneath your skirt. eagerly, remus pulled your panties down your legs before his fingers rubbed against your slit, his eyes widening at how wet you were. you pushed yourself down further into his hand, moaning softly as his fingers grazed your clit.

"go on moony, get me ready for that pretty cock of yours." you urged, making his eyes go wide. he pushed one finger into you, your own fingering from earlier plus the amount of arousal making it an easy fit. remus pumped in and out of you a few times before adding another finger and pushing his palm up to rub against your clit.

you pulled up your skirt as you moaned, giving sirius a clear view. you moaned as remus added a third finger, his palm being replaced by the thumb on his free hand. you looked down at him through hooded eyes and felt sparks in your chest to find him already watching you, his eyes wide and hopeful like he wanted you to praise him. you smiled at him and grabbed his hand, making him stop. you leaned down to kiss the sudden frown away.

"if you keep going like that you'll make me cum," you said into his lips, smiling as he sucked in a breath, "and i want to cum around your cock, if that's okay with you?"

remus nodded eagerly, making you laugh. he really was so cute. you reached back to unzip your skirt, pulling it off before straddling remus's hips, positioning yourself over his cock. you let him line himself up to your entrance and slowly you sat down, hissing as no preparation could really prepare you for his size. remus gripped your hips tightly, taking in the feeling of your velvety walls around him, you always were so tight.

the two of you were a moaning mess by the time you managed to sit all the way down on him. you could feel him twitching inside you and it made you shiver, you wished you could feel like this all the time.

looking over at sirius who had his eyes glued to your connected bodies you whistled at him, catching his gaze. his eyes were filled with desperation as you smiled, almost satisfied enough to let him enjoy himself, almost, but not quite. you placed your hands on remus's shoulders as you slowly started to glide up and down his length. without breaking eye contact with sirius you leaned down to kiss remus, muffling the moans leaving his throat.

"remus baby, look at pads, do you think he's learned his lesson?" you asked, smiling teasingly at sirius who's eyes had lit up with hope.

"truthfully, yn, i don't think sirius will ever fully learn his lesson, but i think for today maybe yes." remus said, his voice wavering as your bouncing did not falter in the slightest.

"hmm, i suppose you can touch him then, if you want." you said, placing a quick kiss to remus's lips before pulling one of his hands from your hip. remus looked over at sirius who quickly nodded, taking remus's hand from your hip and wrapping it around his cock with a deep groan.

remus stroked sirius slowly, gradually quickening his pace to match your bouncing on his cock. sirius looked over at you as relief filled his eyes and you smiled. you could tell though that remus's hand would not be enough for sirius with how worked up he'd gotten, you took the opportunity to mess with him some more.

"what is it sirius? you like watching me fuck your boyfriend like this while you just get his hand?" you asked, slowing your pace as you rolled your hips every time you descended, leaving remus a moaning mess.

"fuck, please princess, you know i need more." sirius said, bucking his hips up into remus's hand.

"you might," you said, leaning back to give both he and remus a better view of his cock sliding in and out, "but do you deserve more?"

"yes!" he called, throwing his head back, "i do, i've been good ever since we got in here. i listened! i did't touch myself or you or remus! please, yn, it hurts so bad."

you looked down at remus who looked up at you pleadingly, this was all the convincing you needed. you nodded, pulling off of remus slowly, both of you groaning at the loss of contact. you made your way up between sirius's legs, pulling remus along with you so you both were face to face with sirius's aching cock.

taking the lead you trailed your tongue up from the base to the head, taking him in your mouth without teasing, you figured you'd done enough of that already. sirius moaned deeply and you felt him twitch in your mouth. you pulled back with a pop, ignoring sirius's protests as you pushed remus's head down, guiding him until he moved on his own. you watched him as you gripped his hair. you looked up at sirius who was watching the two of you and smiled,

"doesn't he look so pretty, pads, with his mouth stuffed full?" you asked, "doing such a good job for you."

"fuck, yes, always." sirius said, putting his hand over yours, lacing his own fingers through remus's hair. you could see the growing blush on remus's face at the praise. you had the sudden urge to kiss him, so you pulled his head back and did just that. you then pulled his head down so that both of your mouths were on sirius's dick, making him moan at the feeling of both of your tongues on him.

pulling back you smiled at both boys before lying back flat against the bed. they both watched as you dipped your fingers into your heat, biting your lip and waiting to see which one would move first. you were surprised when remus fell in front of you, his hands sliding up your thighs as he placed soft kisses along them. sirius smirked from behind him, seemingly proud of his boyfriends boldness.

"leaving me out again are we?" sirius asked, leaning to the side to watch remus trail kisses up to your vulva before he licked a hard stripe up your soaking core. you tilted your head back and moaned, your hand lacing through remus's messy hair. "i'm beginning to think the two of you like each other more than either of you like me."

remus ignored this, sticking his tongue inside you and sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

"your boyfriends got his ass pointed right at you and all you can think about is your own jealousy?" you teased, your body shaking when remus laughed, his tongue acting as a vibrator.

"well when my boyfriends giving you the best head of your life and i still haven't got to fuck either of you it's hard not to get a little jealous." sirius said, though he didn't sound like he was actually hurt.

"then why don't you stop talking and fuck me?" remus asked making both you and sirius go wide eyed.

"look what you've done to our baby, sirius! you made him bratty!" you said, gripping his hair tightly as sirius smacked him on the ass. remus moaned loudly, pushing his hips back into sirius's as you pushed his head back down onto your heat.

"no princess i think it's you that made him bratty. moony never gets snippy unless he has to wait for me to fuck him, you're the one that wouldn't let me touch my pretty boy." sirius said, rubbing his hands up the backs of remus's thighs as he spoke.

"is our baby boy getting impatient?" you asked sweetly, pulling remus's head back off of you. you admired the way his lips glistened with your arousal as he nodded, a clear pout on his lips. "poor thing,"

you pulled him up so that he was hovering above you before you kissed him, licking all traces of your arousal off his lips. you could feel sirius climbing up between yours and remus's legs, and you heard the familiar sound of a bottle snapping open.

remus moaned into your lips and his hips fell into yours as sirius rubbed his lubed up fingers around remus's hole. you moaned beneath him as his heavy cock brushed between your folds, the unexpected friction sending shockwaves through your body.

"remus?" you said softly. he opened his eyes that he hadn't even realized were closed and caught your hazy gaze, "will you fuck me please?"

he did not need to be asked twice. remus dipped his fingers between your legs, gathering some of your wetness and coated his cock before pushing himself into you slowly. between the feeling of your walls wrapped so tightly around him and sirius's fingers working to stretch him out, remus was sure he would not last.

you both cursed when his hips finally met yours, this angle letting him in deeper than he had been before. behind him sirius was lining himself up to remus's entrance, placing soft kisses to his shoulder as he pushed in slowly.

remus fell forward completely lying on top of you as sirius worked his way in. you moaned loudly at the new feeling, though you felt like you were being crushed remus was pushed all the way into you, and with every move of sirius's hips remus's cock was grazing your sweet spot ever so slightly.

"fuck, please i need more." you whined, your voice and your words not sounding like your own. remus sunk his teeth into your shoulder as he tried to move his hips into yours but couldn't as sirius had him trapped.

"god you sound so sweet begging like that, princess." sirius said, pushing into remus faster in an attempt to relieve some of your pressure.

you shook your head with your eyes shut tight, it wasn't enough. you could feel remus twitch inside you and you knew he was getting close. reaching back around him you pushed his lower back further into your stomach, forcing him to arch his back further, giving sirius a deeper angle.

"oh fuck, fuck i'm gonna cum." remus said into your shoulder, his hips shaking as he tried to push his hips down into yours and back against sirius's.

"go ahead baby boy, you've done so good, cum for us." you said softly, brushing back remus's hair as you spoke. you felt him release inside you as he let out a string of shaky moans along with both yours and sirius's name.

"such a good boy," sirius said, slowing his pace as he rubbed his hands over remus's ass and up his back.

sirius pulled out slowly before he helped remus off of you, both you and him groaning in pain. sirius laid remus down next to you, kissing him sweetly. you watched the moment with a smile before sirius glanced your way.

"you mind if i finish y/n off?" sirius asked, looking back down at remus who's eyes went wide as he realized you hadn't finished.

"don't worry about me, i can take care of it myself." you said, ready to get up so they could have their alone time.

"no!" remus called, grabbing your wrist, "you've been so good to us, please let him. besides, he hasn't finished either."

you glanced over at sirius, watching him for a moment as you contemplated. you three had done this a few times before, but still never once had sirius fucked you. it had only been you and remus. you weren't even entirely sure why they'd asked you to join them in the first place, aside from the fact that you knew they were both bi and you and remus had been each other's firsts.

at the reminder of this memory, you looked to remus who was watching you hopefully, his lip tugged between his teeth absentmindedly as he waited for your response.

"okay," you said, looking back up at sirius, "okay, yeah."

sirius grinned, climbing over top of you as he spoke, "i knew you couldn't resist me."

you rolled your eyes before hooking your feet around his thighs, pulling his hips into yours. he slipped in easily, and you could instantly tell a difference in the two boys. remus stretched you out more but sirius went in deeper. both felt like heaven inside you and you wondered how you'd ever get your fill.

"fuck, how are you still so tight?" sirius wondered aloud, starting with a quicker pace than what remus usually set to begin with. you might've complained had you not been thoroughly prepped by remus already.

"merlin, now i see why you can't stay away from her moony, she does look good like this." sirius said pushing your thighs out flat as he pounded into you making you moan loudly at how deep he was hitting.

"fuck, sirius, you feel so good." you moaned, letting go of all hesitation now that he was making you feel this good. sirius smiled above you in satisfaction and you could feel remus's hands dancing along your shoulder before he reached your breasts, toying with your nipples as sirius fucked you.

"fuck, are you close princess? i feel you tightening up already." sirius asked, pulling one of remus's hands down to rub your clit.

"oh fuck, yes please, right there." you said, not sure which one you were even talking to. sirius was pounding into you hitting just the right spot repeatedly as remus was rubbing your clit at just the right speed. you felt your release wash over you like a cold blanket, your pleasure more intense than you'd ever felt before. you heard sirius and remus both curse before sirius pulled out and you felt his release hit your stomach. you frowned a bit, disappointed that he hadn't finished inside you.

when you opened your eyes you realized why he hadn't and your eyes widened.

"fuck, yn, i didn't know you could do that." remus said, staring down at sirius's torso that was glistening with your release.

"we have to make you do that again." sirius said eagerly, and if you didn't know better you'd say he meant right then.

"not now, pads, give her some time to rest. we can do it next time." remus said, pulling your head into his lap as he brushed your hair out of your face, nodding for sirius to go get something to clean you up.

"next time?" you asked, your voice quiet and reserved despite the fact that you were lying in their bed, naked. even though this was not a first occurrence you never really thought there had been much planning to it. you just assumed that every now and then they'd get in the mood to have a girl present and you happened to be available.

"well, yeah," remus said carefully, not wanting to overstep, "we were hoping this could be a thing."

"what my adorably awkward boyfriend is trying to say," sirius said, walking in with a wet wash rag, "is that we really enjoy doing this with you and we'd like to keep doing so, maybe more often if you're interested."

"i'm not sure if i completely understand,"

"i know the two of you have feelings for each other," sirius said, cutting to the chase. at his words you snapped your mouth shut, not daring to look at either one of them, "it's okay, i know they were already there when we got together."

"we want to keep having these moments with you," remus said pulling you up to look at him, "but we also want other kinds of moments too, like, cute ones."

"i meant cute ones with our clothes on." he said.

"yeah like this one, you two look pretty adorable like that all naked and close." sirius said, a smirk on his lips. remus glared at him before looking back at you.

"i meant cute ones with our clothes on." he said.

"so you're asking me to," you trailed off, looking between the two of them, unsure if you were understanding.

"to date us, basically." sirius said nonchalantly.

your mouth fell open as you looked at remus, you two had been friends for quite a while and even though you'd been each other's firsts you never actually dated. so to hear that he wanted that from you, it honestly made your heart flutter. it was no secret you'd been in love with him for some time now.

your face broke out in a smile before you pulled his face to yours, kissing him. remus smiled into the kiss, loving the feeling of your hands on his face and your lips on his.

"hey, don't leave me," sirius's words were cut off by you pulling him in by the back of the neck, kissing him the same way you'd kissed remus. you could feel remus's smile grow against your hand on his face and you pulled back, pushing the two boys together for a kiss of their own.

"so," sirius trailed off, looking from remus to you, "is that a yes?"

you rolled your eyes as remus laughed. the three of you lied there together throughout dinner, cuddling and talking. later on you’d all sneak into the kitchens where you’d then have to find somewhere to stop for the three of you to continue where you left off, and your two boyfriends would definitely make good on their earlier promise.

☆☆☆☆☆

taglist: @padfootswife

[jaeminlore]

Landslide | Mark Lee

summary: time makes you bolder. even children get older, and i’m getting older too.

words: 7.1k+

category: teacher!mark, single parent!reader, fem!presenting!reader, graham is the sweetest kid, mark is that teacher that lets kids pick earthworms during recess, friends to lovers, mark’s apartment is flooded so now he has to live in domestic bliss with his secret crush oh nooooo

warnings: talk of absent fathers

author note: it’s my birthday tomorrow so i wanted to give u all a present for supporting me for so long!! here’s to you <3 (cross-posted on /honklore)

Mark helps one of his kids press their palms onto the wall. When they release their palm, pink paint remains, making a sort of leaf to the tree branches painted onto the wall.

“Now write your name,” Mark advises another kid, whose orange paint had already dried.

“G-R-A-H-A-M,” the boy writes out with a large permanent marker. “Can I take a picture? For my mom?”

All the rest of the children begin to shout their agreements, also wanting to bring home a picture for their parents. Mark grabs his yellow Polaroid camera and takes a picture of each handprint.

He keeps all of the pictures in the chest pocket of his denim jacket. “Okay, guys— to the sink! Whoever has the cleanest hands gets to help me pass out snacks!”

“Why are we having snack time so early?” It’s Graham that asks, the little one always eager to be around Mark.

Mark ignores the boy’s paint covered hands poking at his clean jacket, and answers him as politely as he can. “Mr. Lee forgot his lesson plans today, so we’re going to watch a movie instead.”

“A movie?” Graham’s eyes widen.

“Yep,” Mark giggles. He crouches down to Graham’s level and whispers, “You wanna pick it?”

“Nature Nut!” Graham cheers almost immediately, causing Mark to wince.

Ah, yes, the wonderful little DVDs of a lonesome man teaching the watcher about bugs and weird types of slugs. Mark actually has the entire collection, and Graham happens to adore them just as much as Mark did when he was a kid.

“Alright, go wash your hands and I’ll get it started.”

It’s a little girl named Hana who cleans her hands the best, so she passes out organic fruit gummies to everyone while Mark puts in the DVD.

While they watch the video, Mark checks his text messages.

There’s one from Taeyong: “I’ve already got Haechan on the couch. Sorry, man. You can have the floor, but it’s not gonna be comfy :(“

Right. Mark forgot that Haechan lives in the same complex as him. His apartment is probably just as flooded as Mark’s is. Now if the landlord would just answer his calls and help him... maybe this situation wouldn’t be so stressful.

Mark didn’t forget his lesson plans; they’re just submerged in his bedroom with everything else Mark has left lying on his carpet. And maybe it’s his fault for not buying more storage bins, but a studio apartment can only hold so much stuff.

Serves Mark right for doing his lesson plans at home instead of at the school like most of his fellow kindergarten teachers.

He lets out a quiet sigh, careful not to disturb the children. He only has a short list of friends left to ask, and while he doesn’t think they’ll mind him asking, he really hates to put anyone in that position.

Besides, most of his friends have roommates or significant others and Mark doesn’t want to ruin their routine. He’d hate to intrude. And he could always sleep in his car for a few days, but the amount of stuff he had to pack because of the flooding has barred any chance of a good night’s sleep.

The video ends, and Mark gets the kids seated with coloring pages until their parents arrive.

One by one, he I.Ds the parents and tells the kids goodbye, helping them put on their coats and take home whatever library book they picked out earlier.

Finally, there’s only one kid left, and Mark is a bit embarrassed of his hyper-awareness to Graham. It’s not even his fault, really. Graham just has a beautiful mom, who happens to be Mark’s beautiful friend, and sometimes Mark gets eager to see you during pickup time.

Whatever. It’s no big deal.

The kindergartener already has his coat on. His curly brown hair is almost unruly as he continues to work on his coloring sheet.

Mark pulls at the hem of his sage sweater sleeves and wonders if his hair looks okay. Maybe he should invest in a little desk mirror; or maybe that’s vain.

“Hey, Mark! Sorry I’m late!” You rush in, holding on to your leather messenger bag. You fix your glasses before they fall off the bridge of your nose, and Mark is so focused on the movement that he almost forgets about your child.

Until said child is scolding his mother. “Mom! You have to call him Mr. Lee! It’s rude to call him Mark!”

“Your mom is an adult,” Mark reminds Graham (as soon as he finds his voice.) “Since she isn’t a student, it’s okay for her to call me Mark.”

Graham pinches his lips together, and then shrugs. “Fine. Mom, we watched Nature Nut today.” He runs up to you and wraps his arm around your middle. “Can we go to the park and look for slugs?”

“Sure,” you giggle. “But we need to get home soon, okay, Bud? I have to make dinner and then we have to clean up the mess we made last night.”

Graham turns to Mark and smiles naughtily, like the trickster he often is. “Mom said I could tear up her papers last night. She said it’s There-pee.”

“Ther-a-py,” you emphasize for the five-year-old.

Mark studies your face, and he can tell that you seem a little more stressed than usual. “Therapy, huh?”

You smile sheepishly. “Well, when your son catches you tearing up old love notes, you have to let him in on the fun, right?”

“You are a team,” Mark acknowledges. He wants to ask more; wants to dig into your heart and extract whatever is hurting you, but your son is standing between the two of you, waiting for him to say goodbye. Mark clears his throat and picks at his sweater again. “Anyways, uh, text me tonight? Let me know you two got home safe. And, I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” you breathe. You smile at him and then take Graham’s hand. “Thanks, Mark. I’ll text you.”

Mark spends the night at a motel down the road. He texts a few of his friends and hopes for good news in the morning, or at least a confirmation from his landlord.

When you text him, a little selfie of you and Graham, holding up what looks like microwaved s’mores, his heart grows fond, and he forgets about his own problems for a moment.

-

Life has never been very easy for you. From the get-go, you have always been destined to fail, growing up with an absent father and an overworked mother. With a dead-end dream like yours (writing, of all things), it’s no wonder you clung to what little breaths of freedom you had.

He was handsome and bold, with a carefree smile and brown eyes that mirrored the sun. The lead singer of a band, with a voice like chimes. And you fell just as hard as one of your many protagonists. Perhaps the mistake always lay in the fact that you put too much fantasy into reality. You have always romanticized the littlest things, and that comes back to bite you more often than not.

You never expected one: to get pregnant your senior year of high school, and two: have to go through it alone.

Of course, most people you come to love leave eventually. It’s something you have always remembered; something that sticks in the back of your brain like gum to the bottom of your child’s Spider-man skechers.

Graham is the only constant in your life. Though you’ve been blessed with a decent job editing for a webazine company, and you can work from home more often than not, Graham is the real thing that keeps you alive.

He’s the most precious boy, with brown curls and big brown eyes. He favors his father, and though that should deter you, it reminds you of innocent days, and it gives a new meaning to brown eyes. Graham is not his father, and he never was.

Graham certainly got his love of learning from you. Though he likes science more than writing, you adore how eager he is to always get to school. It helps that Mark is his teacher.

Mark’s been your friend since freshman year of highschool, when the two of you both took the same creative writing class the local university offered. Though the two of you had differing end goals, you often studied together and encouraged each other. He was there when you found out you were pregnant, and he was there when you found out you’d be raising your child alone.

Now life comes full circle, and you see him twice a day. You could go out on a limb and say he brightens up most mornings, but you would still give that slot to your son.

Mark is standing at the doorway now, greeting all of his students and helping them take off their book bags and coats. He’s wearing monochrome today: red pants, a red sweater, and red shoes.

Graham lights up almost immediately, and you are thankful today that you decided to dress Graham in his red t-shirt. “Mom! We match!”

“I know,” you grin, squeezing his hand.

Mark glances at Graham, and then you. His cheeks showcase that same pink hue they always do, and while it should clash with his red garments, it doesn’t. “Hey, Mark.”

“Hey,” he grins, cheeks full at the sight of you two.

Graham spreads his arms and waits for Mark to help him take off his jacket. “Do you see that we match, Mr. Lee?”

“Yo, that’s awesome, Little Man!” Mark gives Graham a fist bump that seems to appease him, and you wait for Graham to run to his friends before addressing Mark.

“How have you been?”

Mark sighs. He brushes his hair away from his eyes. “Okay. My- uh- my studio apartment flooded so I’m staying at a motel until my landlord can get me estimates on when I can come back home.”

“That sucks,” you frown. “You know, if you need a place to stay, I have a pullout couch in my office. And obviously, Graham wouldn’t mind.”

Mark pales. “Are you serious? I didn’t mean to suggest anything, Like I know you work from home and you need your office.”

“And you’ll be at school until three,” you say. “I’ll work then. C’mon, Mark. I don’t like knowing one of my friends has no place to stay.”

Mark bites his bottom lip and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll drive over after I check out of the motel.”

“Great!” You smile. “I’ll order pizza.”

-

"Graham, clean your room," you say, struggling to push your desk against your office wall. "We're going to have a guest for a few weeks."

"Mom," Graham whines, "They aren't going to look in my room."

You begin to take the cushions out of the spare couch to start setting up the pull-out bed. "Mr. Lee is coming over, Graham.  Don't you want to show him your collections?"

Graham's brown eyes grow wide. "Mr. Lee? You didn't tell me he was coming!"

"He's going to be staying with us for a little bit, okay? So I need you to be on your best behavior."

“Can I show him my worms?” Graham asks, alluding to the compost bin in the small backyard of your townhouse.

“Yes,” you say, thankful that he isn’t putting up much of a fight toward cleaning. You’re also thankful he isn’t asking any questions, as Graham always seems to have a few at the top of his tongue.

Graham cleans up his room quickly. You know for a fact that he’s just shoved all of his toys under his bed, but it’s enough until the weekend, when you’ll have more time to help him organize.

The little guy hoards rocks like no one’s business. You curse the day Mark decided to teach the kids about geodes.

“Wanna help me make up Mr. Lee’s room?” You half-yell, while grabbing spare bedding out of your linen closet.

Graham’s little footsteps are heard before he answers, and soon he’s at your hip with a quick, “He can have my Frozen pillowcase!”

You hesitate to tell Graham that his Frozen pillowcase is currently on one of your pillows, and you can’t give your guest a dirty pillowcase. “That one is in the wash, Buddy. Why don’t we give him your Spider-Man one?”

“So he matches my pajamas!” Graham is easily pleased, and he even takes one of his stuffed bears to add to Mark’s made-up bed. (“So he doesn’t get scared at night.”)

By the time the pizza arrives, Mark is just behind, so you keep Graham busy with a slice of cheese and a glass of diet pepsi (only half of a can, and only because it’s a special occasion) while the two of you bring in Mark’s stuff.

He surprisingly didn’t bring much, and when you ask about it, he grimaces. “My studio is pretty small so a lot of my stuff was on the ground and got mildewed. Other stuff was in bins so I just left it there. I only need clothes and my lesson plans, anyway.”

“Well, here’s the desk and bed. It’s not much, but there’s a lock on the door in case Graham ever gets too inquisitive — bless him — and curtains so the stupidly bright sun won’t wake you too early.”

“Those both sound like personal experiences, Y/n,” Mark teases. He takes off his jacket and throws it on the bed. “Yo! Spider-Man?”

“Graham picked it out,” you say. “He also relinquished one of his bears to keep you safe in the middle of the night. His words, not mine.”

“He’s so cute,” Mark mentions offhandedly. The fondness in his tone takes you back a bit. Not because the phrase isn’t true, it’s just that most people find your son annoying before they find him endearing. The change of tone is nice.

“He is,” you say. “And he’s dying to show you his room after we eat dinner.”

Mark gives you that same lopsided smile he often had in high school. Part of your brain shifts to his personal life, and you wonder why Mark himself isn’t in a romantic relationship. Not that he has to be, but the both of you are getting older, and Mark has always been one to express a fondness for having his own family one day. Maybe he just hasn’t found the right person.

It isn’t until Graham is peacefully in bed — after a very chaotic reading of Goodnight Moon by yours truly, and an argument that Mr. Lee cannot, in fact, sleep in the same room as him — that you actually have a chance to show Mark around the house.

“Here’s the guest bathroom. Graham almost always uses the bathroom in my room because he likes looking at the big tub. He will beg you to play with him, but if you’re busy don’t feel guilty telling him no. He knows what no means and he’s good about playing by himself.”

Mark giggles. “Okay. I don’t mind playing with him, though.“

You show him around the kitchen, where you left little spaces for him in the pantry. You show him the garbage bags and the T.V. settings and the list of compostable ingredients. “And also, please come and go as you please. Like, I completely understand that you’re here temporarily and you aren’t a babysitter or anything like that. I don’t expect you to be in charge of Graham any time outside of school.”

Mark blinks. “But if you ever need time away, you can ask me. I don’t mind babysitting.”

“I know,” you smile. “But Graham is my kid. I don’t need time away from him.”

You’re lying. Mark knows it. You’ve been in this single parenting thing for five years and you aren’t about to reach out for help now.

“Anyways, if you have any questions just ring me or ask me,” you say. “I’ve got to get to bed. Goodnight.”

“Thanks, Y/n.”

-

Mark thinks it’s sweet the way Graham insists on making his own breakfast.

You’re already up when Mark gets out of his (temporary) bedroom with his clothes tucked under his arm. You’re busy arguing with Graham. “You can’t fry your own omelette for the last time.”

Mark quirks an eyebrow at your exasperated face. You look stressed beyond belief, even though the day has just begun.

Mark tosses his clothes back in his room and walks into the kitchen. “Hey, Graham! Do you want to show me your rock collection?”

Graham spins on his sock-clad heels, eyes bright at the thought of seeing his teacher. “Mr. Lee! Yes! Let’s go!”

He grabs Mark’s hand with ease, leaving you room to finish making breakfast.

Graham’s room is fairly simple. The small wooden bed is covered in a green quilt, and beneath that, frozen-printed sheets that certainly don’t match. He has a tub of stuffed animals shoved against a small dresser.

Mark gets distracted by the framed picture on top of the dresser. It’s a picture of you and Graham’s father, a few months before you got pregnant. He’s smiling, and you’re holding up a peace sign. It makes Mark feel a bit sad, knowing that Graham’s dad never stayed around to see how wonderful he turned out to be. Then again, a lot of people in your life left as soon as they found out. In high school, no one wants to be friends with a teenage mother.

Mark reckons that if he had a family like this, he’d never take them for granted.

Graham pulls out a gemstone. It’s a murky green one that Mark has let him take home from class. “Do you remember this, Mr. Lee?”

Mark grins. “Yeah, bud. Thanks for keeping it so safe for me.”

Graham beams. He grabs Mark’s hand and pulls him towards his dresser. “Can we match? I want to look like you.”

Mark feels his heart swell. He wants to smother the young boy in affection, but he doesn’t want to cross a line. He’s your friend, sure, but he’s also Graham’s teacher. He can’t coddle Graham more than the other children. He already has a godchild to coddle. “I’m wearing yellow today. Do you have any yellow clothes?”

“Let’s look!” Graham yanks open one of the drawers and begins pulling out the articles of clothing one by one. “No, no, no... Here!” He finds a pair of yellow overalls, folded amongst the mess he made. “I’ll wear these!”

“Let’s clean up first, okay?” Mark grabs the overalls. “So it’s clean when you come home from school.”

Graham, looking like the last thing he’d ever want to do is disappoint Mark, begins to pick up each shirt with obvious intent. He tries to fold them, and does a somewhat decent job, so much so that Mark leaves it, thinking you’ll find it endearing rather than annoying.

He really loves that about you. He likes your patience with Graham. You’re so young, and in reality, he squashed so many early dreams of yours. No matter your lot in life, you never blamed your child. Mark thinks that’s why Graham is so open, so adaptable, so endearing.

He helps Graham get dressed and leaves him in his room so that he, himself, can get ready.

When he emerges from his shower, hair wet and clothed in yellow, he smells something amazing.

He doesn’t want to intrude on your morning with Graham. He already feels too indebted to you already.

“Have an omelet,” you say. Wisps of hair cover your face. You place a plate down in front of him.

Graham is already eating his omelet, slowly, while flipping through a picture book. He sounds out words he recognizes, but stays silent the rest of the time.

Mark takes out his phone and scrolls through his instagram feed just as your own phone begins to ring.

“Shit,” you curse, and then immediately apologize to Graham. You press the red button and tap anxiously on the tabletop.

“Everything okay?” Mark asks.

You run your hands over your hair and let them rest on the back of your neck. “Yeah is just—“

The phone rings again, and this time you pick it up. “What do you want? ... Why would you tell me that? ... Why should I care? ... Please stop contacting me, okay? Goodbye.”

You slam the phone down and leave the room. Mark watches you disappear down the hallway, sniffling.

“Mommy is upset,” Graham says. He looks at Mark, lip quivering. “At me?”

“No, Buddy! Of course not!” Mark reaches over the table to ruffle Graham’s curls. “Never at you.”

“When we tore up paper, she was crying.” Graham fiddles with his book page.

Mark wonders why your ex’s actions are being brought up five years later. Last he heard, you had fully healed from the breakup long before Graham’s first birthday. But now he’s about to be six, and you're suddenly upset?

He’ll have to ask you about it soon.

“Are you ready to go to school, Buddy?”

“Yeah!”

-

You cradle your face in your hands and try to ease the tears back in. You’ll never get this article proofread and sent if you can’t see the keys.

The door opens, and Graham runs in just in time for you to finish wiping your eyes. “Hey, kiddo! How was school?”

“Mr. Lee let us finger paint!” Graham holds up his palm, covered in dried paint, and grins brightly. “Can I have gogurt?”

“Yeah bud. Why don’t you put something on the T.V.? You can have your snack in the living room today.”

“Yes!” Graham takes blueberry gogurt out of the fridge and — after getting you to tear it open — runs into the living room. Sneakers and backpack still on.

Mark trails behind, clutching a messenger bag to his chest. “What’s going on?”

You sigh and close the laptop. The manuscript will have to wait. “Ben called. About a week ago. His girlfriend is pregnant. Called me to tell me he wasn’t going to leave her— like that would heal what he did to me. Then he called this morning to tell me they’re engaged.” You burst into tears then, and you feel so pathetic for doing this in front of your old schoolmate, that you hide your face behind your palms and allow your shoulders to shake. “Why weren’t we enough? Why wasn’t I enough?”

Mark scoots one of the chairs in front of you and sits, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Hey. Look at me.” With gentle hands, he grabs your wrists and pulls them away from your face. “It is not your fault he left.”

“But it has to be me in some way,” you retort. “He must not have loved me. Something, because now he’s going to raise her child after he left mine. Graham deserves a dad.”

Mark places his forehead against yours. The two of you used to do it all the time in school, mostly with immature giggles in the spaces between, but now it’s heavy with intention. “Graham has not felt even a little bit unloved in your care. You are all he needs, okay? You’re amazing.”

You nod, head still pressed to Mark’s. “Yeah. Okay. Sorry for getting too emotional, there.”

“Be as emotional as you want,” Mark says. “I’ll be here to balance you out.”

Your heart stutters at the words, like maybe they mean something more than he’s letting on. Of course it’s stupid to think Mark Lee would ever even consider you, but just the knowledge that he cares makes your soul feel a little lighter.

“I’m a mess,” you stutter, bringing your fist up to wipe at your nose.

“Nah,” Mark grins. He runs the pad of his thumb across your cheek and grins. “You’re alright.”

-

“It’s snowing!” Graham wakes Mark up by jumping on his chest.

Mark sucks in a breath, winded at the sudden weight, and grabs the boy, lifting him off of his chest and onto the mattress. “Hey, Buddy. Let’s not jump on sleeping people, okay?”

“Okay,” Graham says. He’s already lost interest in Mark, now crawling off of the bed to open the blinds. “Come look at the snow!”

“I see!” Mark rubs his tired eyes and checks his watch. “We might have a snow day, Graham.”

“Yes!” Graham pumps his fist into the air. “Let’s go tell mom!”

You’re sitting on your bed, chewing on a red licorice rope and flipping through a fashion magazine. You look up when Mark and Graham enter.

Mark likes seeing you like this: the domesticity of you in the morning, lazy and true. His chest sparks when he thinks this may be one of the only moments he can capture you like this, so he intends to commit the sight to memory.

“Did I hear snow day?” You grin at Mark, childlike wit in your own eyes — the same as your son’s.

“Looks like it.” Mark rolls up the sleeves of the sweater he slept in. “You want pancakes? I make some mean chocolate chip pancakes.”

You shift your gaze away from his arms and clear your throat. “Uh, yeah. Just let me get dressed and I’ll help—“

“No need,” Mark insists. “Enjoy your quiet time. Graham and I will make the most delicious pancakes you’ve ever tasted.”

“With lots of chocolate chips!” Graham shouts.

You give him a pointed look. “But not too many.”

Graham huffs. “But not too many,” he repeats.

-

Momentary splashes sound from your bathroom, followed by Graham screaming “It’s a dragon! Run for cover!”

Mark giggles from his place on the couch. He’s got mushroom-patterned socks on, and he’s tucked up into the cushions, nursing a can of Monster. “How does he still have so much energy?”

You sigh and pull your beanie down over your forehead. “You’d think a snow day would tire him out. Thanks for constantly carrying him up the hill, by the way. I know you’re a teacher, but sometimes I forget how good you are with kids.”

“I do have a godson,” Mark reminds you.

“But Mikey is a baby,” you say. You only know the baby’s name because of Mark’s constant snap stories about him.

“Most babies and kids want the same thing. Affection and attention.” Mark scoots over to the edge of the couch and pats the cushion.

You sit next to him. “I guess that’s true. You’re really good with Graham. He’s not this open to other adults.”

Mark is clearly blushing now; you can see his pink cheeks even in the light of the television. “He’s great in class, always helping the other kids.”

“He wants to impress you,” you say. You pop open a can of orange soda and take a sip. “He thinks you’re just the coolest guy.”

Mark laughs and shakes his head. “Didn’t you hear, Y/n? I’m handsome and cool.”

“Oh, of course,” you nudge his shin with our own sock-clad foot. “How could I forget? Mr. Ladies Man in high school.”

This makes Mark blush even harder, because he most certainly was not a ladies man in high school. In fact, he was a nerd in all senses of the word, part of the debate club with a few other boys. He had a few dates here and there, but nothing ever stuck.

“Shut up,” he mumbles. “My time is gonna come.”

“Hasn’t it already?” you ask before you can really process your own words. But of course he knows that he’s grown into his face, right?

Mark is positively handsome, eyes bright and lashes long. He’s so warm and comforting to you. He must be just as comforting to everyone else.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re handsome, Mark,” you say plainly.

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “Why would I lie?”

Mark opens his mouth, perhaps to call you out. To tell you you’ve been too honest, but he’s interrupted by your son.

“Mom! I’m ready to get out now!”

“I should go,” you say, still looking at his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. His sweater has small spots on the shoulders where snow has fallen and since melted. He shivers.

“You should take a shower. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

-

Haechan comes over the following Saturday night to hang out with Mark, and you’re surprised at how much he truly hasn’t changed since high school.

He’s still got infamously perfect eyebrows, and his voice is still high despite its blunt sarcasm. “Nice place.” He raises his brows as he looks around.

“Who are you?” Graham is sitting at the kitchen table, watching Minecraft playthroughs (kid-friendly ones you’ve watched through yourself) on your phone to entertain himself while you clean.

“I��m Haechan, Mark’s friend.”

“This is Mr. Lee’s friend from school,” you say, detailing your words so they’re easier for your son to digest.

Graham stares at him for a moment, not quite judging but not quite accepting either. “Okay. Do you want to see my rock collection?”

Haechan looks genuinely excited, and accepts before you can come up with an excuse for him. Graham tells Haechan to stay in the kitchen while he grabs all of his rocks.

“How have you been?” you ask the taller man. “Like, with the flooding and everything?”

“Well, I’m on a couch at Taeyong’s, which is good since he doesn’t charge rent. But that means I’m near Mikey, and that baby has some lungs.”

You laugh. “I remember when Graham was a baby. I was so young, and my mom told me it was my responsibility to wake up and take care of him whenever he cried in the middle of the night. I was so pissed at her for making me do that, but those were some of the best nights to bond with him.” You realize you’re rambling and shake your head. “Whatever. Baby screams are loud as hell.”

“You can say that again. I’ve been talking to my friend Johnny about taking his spare room and paying rent. I dunno how many more sleepless nights I can take.”

“Why would you need to pay rent if you’re just crashing?” You wipe down the kitchen table to keep yourself busy.

“Didn’t Mark tell you? Our landlord is in heaps of trouble because the pipes weren’t up to code and that’s why they busted. The damage is basically too expensive to fix, so we’ve got to find new places.”

You stop cleaning. “Mark didn’t tell me that.”

“Oh.” Haechan scratches his brow. “He probably didn’t want to worry you. He feels really bad that he’s stayed with you this long.”

“It’s only been a month or so,” you counter. “Besides, Mark’s a great housemate. He cleans and keeps Graham occupied. Plus, now I have someone to watch corny game shows with.”

Haechan grins. “Oh. Okay, I get it.”

“Get what?” Mark, finally out of the shower, steps into the kitchen and immediately tackles Haechan in an energized hug.

“Nothing!” Haechan’s voice cracks

You shoot Haechan a weird look, and change the subject. “Where are you guys going?”

“To play video games at Johnny’s.” Mark says, and the thrill in his voice makes you think of high school. Of the debate team bus rounding the corner. Of you standing there, waiting to congratulate him with a big hug and a frosty from Wendy’s.

You miss it. “Have fun, okay? I’m probably going to tuck in as soon as Graham does, so just let yourself in.”

“You’re leaving?” Graham comes in, and his arms are filled with smooth and rough stones and gems he’s both found by himself and bought at random general stores while traveling.

“Not before I see your rocks!” Haechan says with so much enthusiasm, you think he’s telling the truth.

Graham giggles and drops the rocks onto the ground. Of course, he wants your guest to sit on the floor and count rocks. You’re almost embarrassed.

“ ‘ Okay, Y/n?” Mark laughs at your expression. Then he places his arm on your shoulder, thumbs the skin of your upper arm.

And once again, it’s high school. It’s senior year graduation and Mark is the only one who congratulates you. It’s his comforting touch, him coming over in the middle of the night after you texted him a picture of your first sonogram. It’s that same comforting touch. That little “I’m here,” and it melts you on the inside, leaves you in the shell of an eighteen girl again. Scared, and worried, and a little less alone.

“Yeah,” you manage. “I’m okay.”

-

The television plays Cartoon Network reruns on a low hum. Mark is curled up in a blanket, nursing a bottle of water and thinking over Haechan’s words.

You’ve liked her since high school, dude.

Which is a complete lie. Seriously, Mark didn’t have a crush on you in high school. He would know if he had a crush on his best friend. You’ve been his friend since freshman year, and that’s all you’ve ever been.

Now in college, it was different. In college, Mark was alone in a dorm with Taeyong, and you were one of the only people from high school he stayed in contact with. In college, he would bring you your favorite snacks and drinks, and other things you would forget to buy because you were a part-time student and a full-time mom. In college, you would pull all-nighters with him, working on your exams while Graham was asleep, then using energy drinks to get through the next day.

Mark even remembers the time your mom caught the three of you fast asleep on your rug, with unopened monster cans and an empty milk bottle beside you.

Throughout your entire pregnancy he was warned not to stay friends with the pregnant girl — it’d be too much for him, he wouldn’t want to become the new father, and all kinds of other stuff people would mumble to him when you weren’t around.

But you never expected him to be anything other than your friend. You never asked him for the help he gave — though you thanked him always — and you never once assumed he’d take the role of Graham’s dad.

And now… now he finds himself wishing you would.

“Mr. Lee?” Graham creeps up without him even realizing.

Mark jumps, sets his water — and thoughts — aside. “Hey, Bud. It’s really late. What are you doing up?”

Graham sniffs, and Mark realizes that the boy is crying. “I had a nightmare.”

Mark holds out his arms before he can think, and lets the five-year-old crawl into his lap. He wraps them both in his blanket and turns the television up just a little more. “Was it scary?”

“You left.” Graham says, voice less watery, like he doesn’t know the weight of his words. He’s focused on the rerun of Adventure Time that’s playing. He’s not even remotely interested in his nightmare now, with his tears dried up, and his eyes drooping back towards slumber.

“I’m going to leave one day,” Mark says, because he thinks it’s important that Graham knows.

“You should stay with me and Mom,” Graham says. He yawns. “We like you so much!”

Mark’s heart stutters. He tries not to think about it.

-

When Graham’s bed is empty the next morning, you freak out. He’s always in his room in the morning. Even if he wakes up before you, he stays in and plays with his toys.

You’ve already got your phone out, and your mother’s number called, when you walk into the living room.

Relief floods your system. Mark and Graham are asleep on the couch, snuggled up serenely like they didn’t just cause you to have a premature heart attack.

You hang up before the call to your mom can go through and stand there, watching the two boys sleep. Graham has both his arms wrapped around Mark’s forearm. It’s such a sweet picture that you take out your phone and snap one.

The flash is on.

Mark scrunches his nose and winces. “What the–”

“Sorry!” You whisper. “You both looked so cute, I couldn’t help it.”

Mark smiles, still sleepy, and finally opens his eyes. He peers at you, copper brown under fluttering lashes and you’re almost intimidated into looking away. “He had a nightmare.”

“Oh?”

“About me leaving.”

“Oh.” You frown. “I’m really sorry about that. I keep telling him that you’re moving out soon, but I don’t think he fully understands.”

Graham stirs. You reach down and pick him up. Your knuckles brush across Mark’s warm, sweater-clad chest and you suddenly wish you could cuddle with him, too. You shake the thoughts away and focus on your drowsy son. “You’re staying at Grandma's for a few days, remember?”

Graham rubs his eyes and perks up. “And I’ll see her cat?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “But we’ve got to get you dressed because she’s coming in a few minutes.”

-

“Mark Lee!” Your mom’s voice embarrassingly rings through the apartment, and you realize Mark has taken it upon himself to open the door. “Y/n told me she had a temporary roommate but I never thought she would finally ask you!”

“Oh my gosh…” you mumble, buckling Graham’s overalls and hauling him up into your arms. “Mom! His apartment flooded so he’s staying here. Don’t be weird about it.”

“But he’s so handsome,” your mom coos. You’re concerned she might reach forward and pinch Mark’s already ruddy cheeks.

“Thanks,” Mark laughs. “But she’s right, I’m just squatting until I can find a new place.”

Your mom harrumphs. “Well, I don’t see why you can’t stay here forever. Y/n doesn’t even use that office room. And even if she did, the two of you could just share a room.”

“Mom!” You plunk Graham into her hands and grab his overnight bag. “You have to leave.”

“Did I say something wrong?” She sounds worried, but there’s an undisclosed mirth in her eyes that makes you think of your freshman year, when you did have a crush on Mark.

“You said everything wrong,” you say, kindly pushing her out. “Have a good time, Graham. I love you! As always, Mom, call if you need me to come get him.”

“Yeah, right!” She yells over her shoulder. Graham is already giggling, so you close the door with confidence.

You turn back to your roommate. “I’m sorry about that, Mark.”

“It’s fine.” He smiles, but it’s reserved. “But speaking of me finding a place… I know Haechan told you that I can’t go back to my own apartment. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You want to say “You can stay here as long as you want, and long as you’ll let me keep you,” but that would reveal too much, and you don’t want to lose the one good friend you have.

“And I was thinking I should move out soon anyway.” Mark pulls his sweater sleeves until they cover his hands. He’s hiding. He’s shielding himself the same way he did in junior year, when he got turned down by his crush to go to the prom. “I don’t think it’s good for Graham to get this attached to me if I’m just going to leave.”

“Oh,” Your sleeves are too short, but you want to shield yourself too. “Yeah, that’s… that’s probably a good idea.”

Mark stands there for a beat, like he’s waiting for you to say something more. Like he hasn’t just taken your heart and pushed it aside. Like this hurts a lot less than it actually does.

But any word out of your mouth would be tearful. It would be honest. It would ruin everything. “I’m going to go on a run.”

-

There’s a cricket outside that won’t stop chirping against your window. You blame it for your insomnia, choosing to ignore the anxiety of eventually losing Mark. It feels so horribly childish, since you’ll see him when you drop Graham off at school. And you’ll see him whenever the two of you go out for coffee on weekends.

But you won’t see him in the kitchen, reaching for the pancake mix so his shirt rises up and you can see the dimples in his back. You won’t see him humming along to the radio while he works on his lesson plans. You won’t feel his warmth when the two of you stay awake, nursing spiked lemonade and giggling at the commentary videos you find on YouTube.

He’ll just be Mark again. He won’t be home anymore.

Startled by the realization, you get out of your covers and rush to your door.

It opens before you can even reach for the doorknob, and there’s Mark in his pajamas, biting his lip and avoiding your eyes.

“I don’t want you to leave,” you say.

Mark confesses, “I love you.”

You open your arms and he dives in, face pressed into the space where your neck meets your shoulder. Warmth envelopes you and the scent of pine fills your nose.

Mark is timeless. Youthful glory and childish pride. He’s a pinch on the side and a push on the swings. Like a rock that actually skips on the first try. Like shoes that you can slip on when they’re still tied. And he’s here, in your arms, squeezing you like you’re something valuable enough to lose. He’s confessing love like you aren’t the worst possible candidate for his heart.

“I can’t offer you much,” you start, but Mark bumps his forehead against yours, boyish and playful — football fields and bright red lockers and secret notes on bathroom walls.

“I’ve known you for years, Y/n,” Mark’s voice is a low rumble. Copper eyes blinking at you like you’re something to second glance at. “I know what I’m getting into. I want you. I want Graham. I want everything this is, and everything we’ve been for the past month. I don’t want this to end.”

You close your eyes, because his are too honest. He’s open and vulnerable and gentle — a child on the first day of school, ready to make friends. You take a deep breath, try to remember what you were like on your first day. Rosy cheeks and shy glances. Knobby knees and a trusting heart. You reach out for whoever you once were — the Y/n with a heart open and willing to be loved. “I don’t want this to end either. I’m in love with you, Mark.”

His grin lights up your world in its entirety. Gold flecks in onyx black disappear as he smiles, too thrilled to keep his eyes open. And when he kisses you, warm lips against cold ones, you feel like a puzzle has just slotted into place.

It would only make sense that you would grow to love the boy you grew up with.

[pilothusband]

The One Where Frankie Didn’t Need a Map

Gif by @uuuhshiny

Rating: Explicit! 18+!

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: Some good ol’ fashioned cunnilingus, alcohol consumption, a teensy bit of pining. Unbeta’d, we horny post like men.

Word count: ~1.5k

Description: You confess something to Frankie and he is determined to change your mind on the matter.

You already knew you were in trouble when no one else showed up for the hang out session Frankie had posted about in the group chat. Will had a date with his wife, Benny had training, and Pope had some other plans God knows where.

Here you were, perched on Frankie’s couch, downing a PBR like it was water, trying to get over your own nerves. See, you harbored a not-so-secret crush on Frankie. You were glad Frankie was oblivious to it, not really knowing if he felt the same way.

He had never said or done anything to hint that he felt the same way, but sometimes when you were all out, you caught him looking at you from across the room. Your gaze would meet his, and he’d look away quickly. It was confusing and maddening as hell.

He was a good friend; someone you could tell almost anything and not feel judged. You didn’t want to risk losing him.

After a while, conversation flowed as freely as the cheap beer. You felt your tongue get a little looser, and you noticed Frankie was in the same boat.His hair was a little disheveled, rather adorably, and his face was getting a little pink, his smile a little more ever-present.

Still, you weren’t sure how the conversation turned to sex. You hadn’t broached this subject before in detail, much less when it was just the two of you.

You made a comment about how you hadn’t been dicked down in what felt like decades and he let a laugh.

“I think the thing I miss about having a regular sex partner is just going to town while eating her out.”

You squirmed, feeling incredibly hot under the collar all of a sudden.

“I don’t know, I’ve always wanted to enjoy that, but none of the guys I’ve been with could find the clit even if they had a map.”

Frankie almost spit his beer out at that. He didn’t laugh this time though.

He didn’t respond right away. His brow was furrowed in deep thought. You felt a hot wave of embarrassment wash over you.

“I know, it’s kind of embarrassing,” you started. “I think there’s something wrong with me.” 

You tried to laugh it off, but your voice was small and unsure. Your eyes were cast down at your hands, wringing nervously in your lap. Frankie must have thought you were insane, sharing something this personal with him.

“No,” he said, clearing his throat. “It’s not embarrassing. Not for you, at least.” 

You looked up at him, surprised.

“Those guys, they didn’t know what they were doing,” he said, his arms gesturing wildly. “They were fucking idiots.” 

You huffed out a laugh. Of course he would say that.

“I guarantee you, when you’re with someone who knows what they’re doing, you’ll change your tune.” 

“Yeah,” you said derisively. “We’ll see if that happens. You know my dating history.”

Frankie hummed in agreement and took a pull from his beer. You did the same, looking around the room, trying to find a way to change the subject.

“I could do it,” he said quietly. 

You almost didn’t hear him.You paused for a moment, stomach in knots. 

“What do you mean?” You said warily, unsure if he meant what you think he meant.

“I mean—“ he seemed to be unsure if he should say it. “I could make you come with my mouth.”

You almost gasped at his words, immediately feeling a rush between your legs.

“Do you— do you want to?” You asked. 

You couldn’t tell if he was joking, but this wasn’t something Frankie would normally joke about. If this was Pope or Benny you’d punch their shoulder and tell them to fuck off. But this was Frankie. Your Frankie.

He swallowed thickly, his voice dropping an octave. “More than anything.”

You felt your thighs clench together, squirming in your seat. You really fucking wanted to take him up on the offer, but could your heart handle it? Could you hook up with your best friend and not fall more head over heels for him? 

After a long, pregnant pause you spoke, your voice coming out more breathy than usual.

“Okay.”

Frankie’s head snapped up to meet your gaze.

“Really?”

“Yes. Make me... make me come with your mouth.”

Frankie groaned, a low and deliriously sensual sound coming from deep within him. You felt another wave of arousal wash over you. You bit your lip in anticipation, feeling a little nervous.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Frankie said softly, setting his beer down, grabbing your empty and setting it next to his. 

He cradled your face delicately in his hand and kissed your forehead, your nose, then the corner of your mouth. You didn’t dare breathe, afraid this was all a dream you were about to wake up from.

He moved lower, crouching on the floor in front of the couch. His fingers found the button on your jeans and worked deftly to unbutton them. He ran his hands down to your thighs and then under, motioning for you to get up so he could pull your jeans down. You complied, biting your lip as he slowly peeled them down.

Once they were on the floor haphazardly tossed behind him, Frankie looked back and you and licked his lips. His eyes were glazed over, staring at the seam of your panties. 

You sucked in a breath. Your heart felt as if it was beating out of your chest.

His hand found you there, pressing softly over your clit over the fabric. You made a soft noise in surprise. His thumb rubbed circles over it, finding a delicious rhythm. Your hips started gyrating on their own accord.

“Fuck,” Frankie mumbled under his breath in reverence. “You’re beautiful.”

You moaned in response. There was no way you could come up with any words in the moment. His fingers felt like heaven and he had barely touched you.

His pointer finger slipped under the fabric, seeking out your skin directly.

“You’re so wet for me already,” he breathed out in wonder. You keen in response, too turned on to feel self-conscious.

He removed his finger and sucked it into his mouth, groaning.

“And you taste fucking amazing.”

His fingers found the waistband of your panties, peeling them down your legs.

The hairs on his mustache and beard tickled the inside of your thighs and you found yourself spreading them apart further in anticipation.

Your mind was moving a mile a minute, not quite believing this was really happening.

Your breath hitched as his mouth found its way upwards, finally reaching its destination. Frankie parted his lips, licking a stripe upwards, landing on your clit.

“Oh fuck,” you swore under your breath. 

Frankie grinned in response and started moving his mouth in earnest. His tongue swirled around your clit, flicking over it every other beat. Your hips were grinding into his face and your breath was coming out in pants. His fingers parted your folds while his tongue flicked back and forth over you.

Frankie let out a long moan into your pussy, grabbing onto your ass with his free hand to push you further into his face.

A lock of his curls fell in front of his eyes and you found yourself carding your fingers through his hair to push it back. He closed his eyes at the sensation, letting out another moan.

His mouth and tongue struck a new, harsher rhythm, making your back arch. You pulled the neckline of your shirt down, taking the cup of your bra with it to rub at your nipple, seeking more friction.

Frankie looked up and found you arching your back towards him, thumb circling your exposed nipple and let out the loudest moan.

“Fuck, baby. Play with your tits, just like that. So fucking hot.”

He continued his ministrations, his nose adding a delicious press to your clit as his tongue licked into your pussy.

You felt a familiar sensation start to grow inside you, building with alarming speed.

“Frankie, don’t stop,” you panted out. “I’m gonna come.”

He growled into you in response, continuing to lap at you with abandon.

The wave broke and you cried out, babbling his name over and over again. Your legs were shaking with the strength of your orgasm. Frankie rode you through it, not letting up until your hand flew to his hair.

He looked up at you in a daze, wiping his mouth off on his sleeve before crawling his body up yours, capturing you in a scorching kiss.

Your hands were everywhere— in his hair, on the back of his neck, down towards his chest. You looked down, noticing the considerable bulge in his jeans. You wanted to find out how hot and hard he was more than anything.

His hands found yours, stilling your movements.

“Next time,” he said, his already deep voice sounding even huskier. “This was for you.”

You kissed him again, not quite over how impossibly soft his lips were, and how he tasted like you.

“See, I told you,” he said, huffing out a laugh. “Nothing wrong with you.”

You smiled bashfully, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Shut up and hand me my pants, Morales.”

[honklore]

landslide | karl jacobs

(kindergarten teacher!karl, single mom!reader, oh no karl’s apartment gets flooded so he has to stay at his best friend from high school’s house who also happens to be the mother of his favorite student, karl just being soft and sweet and a great friend, um talk about the baby daddy being a loser essentially, the beast team is there playing the role of karl’s friends from school, graham is the sweetest child, slight angst, fluff, friends to lovers, SOFT KARL, warmth, comfort, romance coded but very light)

listen to: landslide by fleetwood mac, never grow up by taylor swift, growing up by river run north, rainbow by kacey musgraves

Karl helps one of his kids press their palms onto the wall. When they release their palm, pink paint remains, making a sort of leaf to the tree branches painted onto the wall.

“Now write your name,” Karl advises another kid, whose orange paint had already dried.

“G-R-A-H-A-M,” the boy writes out with a large permanent marker. “Can I take a picture? For my mom?”

All the rest of the children begin to shout their agreements, also wanting to bring home a picture for their parents. Karl grabs his yellow Polaroid camera and takes a picture of each handprint.

He keeps all of the pictures in the chest pocket of his denim jacket. “Okay, guys— to the sink! Whoever has the cleanest hands gets to help me pass out snacks!”

“Why are we having snack time so early?” It’s Graham that asks, the little one always eager to be around Karl.

Karl ignores the boy’s paint covered hands poking at his clean jacket, and answers him as politely as he can. “Mr. Jacobs forgot his lesson plans today, so we’re going to watch a movie instead.”

“A movie?” Graham’s eyes widen.

“Yep,” Karl giggles. He crouches down to Graham’s level and whispers, “You wanna pick it?”

“Nature Nut!” Graham cheers almost immediately, causing Karl to wince.

Ah, yes, the wonderful little DVDs of a lonesome man teaching the watcher about bugs and weird types of slugs. Karl actually has the entire collection, and Graham happens to adore them just as much as Karl did when he was a kid.

“Alright, go wash your hands and I’ll get it started.”

It’s a little girl named Hana who cleans her hands the best, so she passes out organic fruit gummies to everyone while Karl puts in the DVD.

While they watch the video, Karl checks his text messages.

There’s one from Chris: “I’ve already got Chandler on the couch. Sorry, man. You can have the floor, but it’s not gonna be comfy :(“

Right. Karl forgot that Chandler lives in the same complex as him. His apartment is probably just as flooded as Karl’s is. Now if the landlord would just answer his calls and help him... maybe this situation wouldn’t be so stressful.

Karl didn’t forget his lesson plans; they’re just submerged in his bedroom with everything else Karl has left lying on his carpet. And maybe it’s his fault for not buying more storage bins, but a studio apartment can only hold so much stuff.

Serves Karl right for doing his lesson plans at home instead of at the school like most of his fellow kindergarten teachers.

He lets out a quiet sigh, careful not to disturb the children. He only has a short list of friends left to ask, and while he doesn’t think they’ll mind him asking, he really hates to put anyone in that position.

Besides, most of his friends have roommates or significant others and Karl doesn’t want to ruin their routine. He’d hate to intrude. And he could always sleep in his car for a few days, but the amount of stuff he had to pack because of the flooding has barred any chance of a good night’s sleep.

The video ends, and Karl gets the kids seated with coloring pages until their parents arrive.

One by one, he I.Ds the parents and tells the kids goodbye, helping them put on their coats and take home whatever library book they picked out earlier.

Finally, there’s only one kid left, and Karl is a bit embarrassed of his hyper-awareness to Graham. It’s not even his fault, really. Graham just has a beautiful mom, who happens to be Karl’s beautiful friend, and sometimes Karl gets eager to see you during pickup time.

Whatever. It’s no big deal.

The kindergartener already has his coat on. His curly brown hair is almost unruly as he continues to work on his coloring sheet.

Karl pulls at the hem of his sage sweater sleeves and wonders if his hair looks okay. Maybe he should invest in a little desk mirror; or maybe that’s vain.

“Hey, Karl! Sorry I’m late!” You rush in, holding on to your leather messenger bag. You fix your glasses before they fall off the bridge of your nose, and Karl is so focused on the movement that he almost forgets about your child.

Until said child is scolding his mother. “Mom! You have to call him Mr. Jacobs! It’s rude to call him Karl!”

“Your mom is an adult,” Karl reminds Graham (as soon as he finds his voice.) “Since she isn’t a student, it’s okay for her to call me Karl.”

Graham pinches his lips together, and then shrugs. “Fine. Mom, we watched Nature Nut today.” He runs up to you and wraps his arm around your middle. “Can we go to the park and look for slugs?”

“Sure,” you giggle. “But we need to get home soon, okay, Bud? I have to make dinner and then we have to clean up the mess we made last night.”

Graham turns to Karl and smiles naughtily, like the trickster he often is. “Mom said I could tear up her papers last night. She said it’s There-pee.”

“Ther-a-py,” you emphasize for the five-year-old.

Karl studies your face, and he can tell that you seem a little more stressed than usual. “Therapy, huh?”

You smile sheepishly. “Well, when your son catches you tearing up old love notes, you have to let him in on the fun, right?”

“You are a team,” Karl acknowledges. He wants to ask more; wants to dig into your heart and extract whatever is hurting you, but your son is standing between the two of you, waiting for him to say goodbye. Karl clears his throat and picks at his sweater again. “Anyways, uh, text me tonight? Let me know you two got home safe. And, I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” you breathe. You smile at him and then take Graham’s hand. “Thanks, Karl. I’ll text you.”

Karl spends the night at a motel down the road. He texts a few of his friends and hopes for good news in the morning, or at least a confirmation from his landlord.

When you text him, a little selfie of you and Graham, holding up what looks like microwaved s’mores, his heart grows fond, and he forgets about his own problems for a moment.

Life has never been very easy for you. From the get-go, you have always been destined to fail, growing up with an absent father and an overworked mother. With a dead-end dream like yours (writing, of all things), it’s no wonder you clung to what little breaths of freedom you had.

He was handsome and bold, with a carefree smile and brown eyes that mirrored the sun. The lead singer of a band, with a voice like chimes. And you fell just as hard as one of your many protagonists. Perhaps the mistake always lay in the fact that you put too much fantasy into reality. You have always romanticized the littlest things, and that comes back to bite you more often than not.

You never expected one: to get pregnant your senior year of high school, and two: have to go through it alone.

Of course, most people you come to love leave eventually. It’s something you have always remembered; something that sticks in the back of your brain like gum to the bottom of your child’s Spider-man skechers.

Graham is the only constant in your life. Though you’ve been blessed with a decent job editing for a webazine company, and you can work from home more often than not, Graham is the real thing that keeps you alive.

He’s the most precious boy, with brown curls and big brown eyes. He favors his father, and though that should deter you, it reminds you of innocent days, and it gives a new meaning to brown eyes. Graham is not his father, and he never was.

Graham certainly got his love of learning from you. Though he likes science more than writing, you adore how eager he is to always get to school. It helps that Karl is his teacher.

Karl’s been your friend since freshman year of highschool, when the two of you both took the same creative writing class the local university offered. Though the two of you had differing end goals, you often studied together and encouraged each other. He was there when you found out you were pregnant, and he was there when you found out you’d be raising your child alone.

Now life comes full circle, and you see him twice a day. You could go out on a limb and say he brightens up most mornings, but you would still give that slot to your son.

Karl is standing at the doorway now, greeting all of his students and helping them take off their book bags and coats. He’s wearing monochrome today: red pants, a red sweater, and red shoes.

Graham lights up almost immediately, and you are thankful today that you decided to dress Graham in his red t-shirt. “Mom! We match!”

“I know,” you grin, squeezing his hand.

Karl glances at Graham, and then you. His cheeks showcase that same pink hue they always do, and while it should clash with his red garments, it doesn’t. “Hey, Karl.”

“Hey,” he grins, cheeks full at the sight of you two.

Graham spreads his arms and waits for Karl to help him take off his jacket. “Do you see that we match, Mr. Jacobs?”

“Yo, that’s awesome, Little Man!” Karl gives Graham a fist bump that seems to appease him, and you wait for Graham to run to his friends before addressing Karl.

“How have you been?”

Karl sighs. He brushes his hair away from his eyes. “Okay. My- uh- my studio apartment flooded so I’m staying at a motel until my landlord can get me estimates on when I can come back home.”

“That sucks,” you frown. “You know, if you need a place to stay, I have a pullout couch in my office. And obviously, Graham wouldn’t mind.”

Karl pales. “Are you serious? I didn’t mean to suggest anything, Like I know you work from home and you need your office.”

“And you’ll be at school until three,” you say. “I’ll work then. C’mon, Karl. I don’t like knowing one of my friends has no place to stay.”

Karl bites his bottom lip and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll drive over after I check out of the motel.”

“Great!” You smile. “I’ll order pizza.”

"Graham, clean your room," you say, struggling to push your desk against your office wall. "We're going to have a guest for a few weeks."

"Mom," Graham whines, "They aren't going to look in my room."

You begin to take the cushions out of the spare couch to start setting up the pull-out bed. "Mr. Jacobs is coming over, Graham.  Don't you want to show him your collections?"

Graham's brown eyes grow wide. "Mr. Jacobs? You didn't tell me he was coming!"

"He's going to be staying with us for a little bit, okay? So I need you to be on your best behavior."

“Can I show him my worms?” Graham asks, alluding to the compost bin in the small backyard of your townhouse.

“Yes,” you say, thankful that he isn’t putting up much of a fight toward cleaning. You’re also thankful he isn’t asking any questions, as Graham always seems to have a few at the top of his tongue.

Graham cleans up his room quickly. You know for a fact that he’s just shoved all of his toys under his bed, but it’s enough until the weekend, when you’ll have more time to help him organize.

The little guy hoards rocks like no one’s business. You curse the day Karl decided to teach the kids about geodes.

“Wanna help me make up Mr. Jacobs’s room?” You half-yell, while grabbing spare bedding out of your linen closet.

Graham’s little footsteps are head before he answers, and soon he’s at your hip with a quick, “He can have my Frozen pillowcase!”

You hesitate to tell Graham that his Frozen pillowcase is currently on one of your pillows, but just you can’t give your guest a dirty pillowcase. “That one is in the wash, Buddy. Why don’t we give him your Spider-Man one?”

“So he matches my pajamas!” Graham is easily pleased, and he even takes one of his stuffed bears to add to Karl’s made-up bed. (“So he doesn’t get scared at night.”)

By the time the pizza arrives, Karl is just behind, so you keep Graham busy with a slice of cheese and a glass of diet pepsi (only half of a can, and only because it’s a special occasion) while the two of you bring in Karl’s stuff.

He surprisingly didn’t bring much, and when you ask about it, he grimaces. “My studio is pretty small so a lot of my stuff was on the ground and got mildewed. Other stuff was in bins so I just left it there. I only need clothes and my lesson plans, anyway.”

“Well, here’s the desk and bed. It’s not much, but there’s a lock on the door in case Graham ever gets too inquisitive — bless him — and curtains so the stupidly bright sun won’t wake you too early.”

“Those both sound like personal experiences, Y/n,” Karl teases. He takes off his jacket and throws it on the bed. “Yo! Spider-Man?”

“Graham picked it out,” you say. “He also relinquished one of his bears to keep you safe in the middle of the night. His words, not mine.”

“He’s so cute,” Karl mentions offhandedly. The fondness in his tone takes you back a bit. Not because the phrase isn’t true, it’s just that most people find your son annoying before they find him endearing. The change of tone is nice.

“He is,” you say. “And he’s dying to show you his room after we eat dinner.”

Karl gives you that same lopsided smile he often had in high school. Part of your brain shifts to his personal life, and you wonder why Karl himself isn’t in a romantic relationship. Not that he has to be, but the both of you are getting older, and Karl has always been one to express a fondness for having his own family one day. Maybe he just hasn’t found the right person.

It isn’t until Graham is peacefully in bed — after a very chaotic reading of Goodnight Moon by yours truly, and an argument that Mr. Jacobs cannot, in fact, sleep in the same room as him — that you actually have a chance to show Karl around the house.

“Here’s the guest bathroom. Graham almost always uses the bathroom in my room because he likes looking at the big tub. He will beg you to play with him, but if you’re busy don’t feel guilty telling him no. He knows what no means and he’s good about playing by himself.”

Karl giggles. “Okay. I don’t mind playing with him, though.“

You show him around the kitchen, where you left little spaces for him in the pantry. You show him the garbage bags and the T.V. settings and the list of compostable ingredients. “And also, please come and go as you please. Like, I completely understand that you’re here temporarily and you aren’t a babysitter or anything like that. I don’t expect you to be in charge of Graham any time outside of school.”

Karl blinks. “But if you ever need time away, you can ask me. I don’t mind babysitting.”

“I know,” you smile. “But Graham is my kid. I don’t need time away from him.”

You’re lying. Karl knows it. You’ve been in this single parenting thing for five years and you aren’t about to reach out for help now.

“Anyways, if you have any questions just ring me or ask me,” you say. “I’ve got to get to bed. Goodnight.”

“Thanks, Y/n.”

Karl thinks it’s sweet the way Graham insists on making his own breakfast.

You’re already up when Karl gets out of his (temporary) bedroom with his clothes tucked under his arm. You’re busy arguing with Graham. “You can’t fry your own omelette for the last time.”

Karl quirks an eyebrow at your exasperated face. You look stressed beyond belief, even though the day has just begun.

Karl tosses his clothes back in his room and walks into the kitchen. “Hey, Graham! Do you want to show me your rock collection?”

Graham spins on his sock-clad heels, eyes bright at the thought of seeing his teacher. “Mr. Jacobs! Yes! Let’s go!”

He grabs Karl’s hand with ease, leaving you room to finish making breakfast.

Graham’s room is fairly simple. The small wooden bed is covered in a green quilt, and beneath that, frozen-printed sheets that certainly don’t match. He has a tub of stuffed animals shoved against a small dresser.

Karl gets distracted by the framed picture on top of the dresser. It’s a picture of you and Graham’s father, a few months before you got pregnant. He’s smiling, and you’re holding up a peace sign. It makes Karl feel a bit sad, knowing that Graham’s dad never stayed around to see how wonderful he turned out to be.

Then again, a lot of people in your life left as soon as they found out. In high school, no one wants to be friends with a teenage mother.

Karl reckons that if he had a family like this, he’d never take them for granted.

Graham pulls out a gemstone. It’s a murky green one that Karl has let him take home from class. “Do you remember this, Mr. Jacobs?”

Karl grins. “Yeah, bud. Thanks for keeping it so safe for me.”

Graham beams. He grabs Karl’s hand and pulls him towards his dresser. “Can we match? I want to look like you.”

Karl feels his heart swell. He wants to smother the young boy in affection, but he doesn’t want to cross a line. He’s your friend, sure, but he’s also Graham’s teacher. He can’t coddle Graham more than the other children. He already has a godchild to coddle. “I’m wearing yellow today. Do you have any yellow clothes?”

“Let’s look!” Graham yanks open one of the drawers and begins pulling out the articles of clothing one by one. “No, no, no... Here!” He finds a pair of yellow overalls, folded amongst the mess he made. “I’ll wear these!”

“Let’s clean up first, okay?” Karl grabs the overalls. “So it’s clean when you come home from school.”

Graham, looking like the last thing he’d ever want to do is disappoint Karl, begins to pick up each shirt with obvious intent. He tries to fold them, and does a somewhat decent job, so much so that Karl leaves it, thinking you’ll find it endearing rather than annoying.

He really loves that about you. He likes your patience with Graham. You’re so young, and in reality, he squashed so many early dreams of yours. No matter your lot in life, you never blamed your child. Karl thinks that’s why Graham is so open, so adaptable, so endearing.

He helps Graham get dressed and leaves him in his room so that he, himself, can get ready.

When he emerges from his shower, hair wet and clothed in yellow, he smells something amazing.

He doesn’t want to intrude on your morning with Graham. He already feels too indebted to you already.

“Have an omelet,” you say. Wisps of hair cover your face. You place a plate down in front of him.

Graham is already eating his omelet, slowly, while flipping through a picture book. He sounds out words he recognizes, but stays silent the rest of the time.

Karl takes out his phone and scrolls through his instagram feed just as your own phone begins to ring.

“Shit,” you curse, and then immediately apologize to Graham. You press the red button and tap anxiously on the tabletop.

“Everything okay?” Karl asks.

You run your hands over your hair and let them rest on the back of your neck. “Yeah is just—“

The phone rings again, and this time you pick it up. “What do you want? ... Why would you tell me that? ... Why should I care? ... Please stop contacting me, okay? Goodbye.”

You slam the phone down and leave the room. Karl watches you disappear down the hallway, sniffling.

“Mommy is upset,” Graham says. He looks at Karl, lip quivering. “At me?”

“No, Buddy! Of course not!” Karl reaches over the table to ruffle Graham’s curls. “Never at you.”

“When we tore up paper, she was crying.” Graham fiddles with his book page.

Karl wonders why your ex’s actions are being brought up five years later. Last he heard, you had fully healed from the breakup long before Graham’s first birthday. But now he’s about to be six, and you're suddenly upset?

He’ll have to ask you about it soon.

“Are you ready to go to school, Buddy?”

“Yeah!”

You cradle your face in your hands and try to ease the tears back in. You’ll never get this article proofread and sent if you can’t see the keys.

The door opens, and Graham runs in just in time for you to finish wiping your eyes. “Hey, kiddo! How was school?”

“Mr. Jacobs let us finger paint!” Graham holds up his palm, covered in dried paint, and grins brightly. “Can I have gogurt?”

“Yeah bud. Why don’t you put something on the T.V.? You can have your snack in the living room today.”

“Yes!” Graham takes blueberry gogurt out of the fridge and — after getting you to tear it open — runs into the living room. Sneakers and backpack still on.

Karl trails behind, clutching a messenger bag to his chest. “What’s going on?”

You sigh and close the laptop. The manuscript will have to wait. “Ben called. About a week ago. His girlfriend is pregnant. Called me to tell me he wasn’t going to leave her— like that would heal what he did to me. Then he called this morning to tell me they’re engaged.” You burst into tears then, and you feel so pathetic for doing this in front of your old schoolmate, that you hide your face behind your palms and allow your shoulders to shake. “Why weren’t we enough? Why wasn’t I enough?”

Karl scoots one of the chairs in front of you and sits, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Hey. Look at me.” With gentle hands, he grabs your wrists and pulls them away from your face. “It is not your fault he left.”

“But it has to be me in some way,” you retort. “He must not have loved me. Something, because now he’s going to raise her child after he left mine. Graham deserves a dad.”

Karl places his forehead against yours. The two of you used to do it all the time in school, mostly with immature giggles in the spaces between, but now it’s heavy with intention. “Graham has not felt even a little bit unloved in your care. You are all he needs, okay? You’re amazing.”

You nod, head still pressed to Karl’s. “Yeah. Okay. Sorry for getting too emotional, there.”

“Be as emotional as you want,” Karl says. “I’ll be here to balance you out.”

Your heart stutters at the words, like maybe they mean something more than he’s letting on. Of course it’s stupid to think Karl Jacobs would ever even consider you, but just the knowledge that he cares makes your soul feel a little lighter.

“I’m a mess,” you stutter, bringing your fist up to wipe at your nose.

“Nah,” Karl grins. He runs the pad of his thumb across your cheek and grins. “You’re alright.”

“It’s snowing!” Graham wakes Karl up by jumping on his chest.

Karl sucks in a breath, winded at the sudden weight, and grabs the boy, lifting him off of his chest and onto the mattress. “Hey, Buddy. Let’s not jump on sleeping people, okay?”

“Okay,” Graham says. He’s already lost interest in Karl, now crawling off of the bed to open the blinds. “Come look at the snow!”

“I see!” Karl rubs his tired eyes and checks his watch. “We might have a snow day, Graham.”

“Yes!” Graham pumps his fist into the air. “Let’s go tell mom!”

You’re sitting on your bed, chewing on a red licorice rope and flipping through a fashion magazine. You look up when Karl and Graham enter.

Karl likes seeing you like this: the domesticity of seeing you in the morning, lazy and true. His chest sparks when he thinks this may be one of the only moments he can capture you like this, so he intends to commit the sight to memory.

“Did I hear snow day?” You grin at Karl, childlike wit in your own eyes — the same as your son’s.

“Looks like it.” Karl rolls up the sleeves of the sweater he slept in. “You want pancakes? I make some mean chocolate chip pancakes.”

You shift your gaze away from his arms and clear your throat. “Uh, yeah. Just let me get dressed and I’ll help—“

“No need,” Karl insists. “Enjoy your quiet time. Graham and I will make the most delicious pancakes you’ve ever tasted.”

“With lots of chocolate chips!” Graham shouts.

You give him a pointed look. “But not too many.”

Graham huffs. “But not too many,” he repeats.

Momentary splashes sound from your bathroom, followed by Graham screaming “It’s a dragon! Run for cover!”

Karl giggles from his place on the couch. He’s got mushroom-patterned socks on, and he’s tucked up into the cushions, nursing a can of Monster. “How does he still have so much energy?”

You sigh and pull your beanie down over your forehead. “You’d think a snow day would tire him out. Thanks for constantly carrying him up the hill, by the way. I know you’re a teacher, but sometimes I forget how good you are with kids.”

“I do have a godson,” Karl reminds you.

“But Tucker is a baby,” you say. You only know the baby’s name because of Karl’s constant snap stories about him.

“Most babies and kids want the same thing. Affection and attention.” Karl scoots over to the edge of the couch and pats the cushion.

You sit next to him. “I guess that’s true. You’re really good with Graham. He’s not this open to other adults.”

Karl is clearly blushing now; you can see his pink cheeks even in the light of the television. “He’s great in class, always helping the other kids.”

“He wants to impress you,” you say. You pop open a can of orange soda and take a sip. “He thinks you’re just the coolest guy.”

Karl laughs and shakes his head. “Didn’t you hear, Y/n? I’m handsome and cool.”

“Oh, of course,” you nudge his shin with our own sock-clad foot. “How could I forget? Mr. Ladies Man in high school.”

This makes Karl blush even harder, because he most certainly was not a ladies man in high school. In fact, he was a nerd in all senses of the word, part of the debate club with a few other boys. He had a few dates here and there, but nothing ever stuck.

“Shut up,” he mumbles. “My time is gonna come.”

“Hasn’t it already?” you ask before you can really process your own words. But of course he knows that he’s grown into his face, right?

Karl is positively handsome, eyes bright and lashes long. He’s so warm and comforting to you. He must be just as comforting to everyone else.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re handsome, Karl,” you say plainly.

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “Why would I lie?”

Karl opens his mouth, perhaps to call you out. To tell you you’ve been too honest, but he’s interrupted by your son.

“Mom! I’m ready to get out now!”

“I should go,” you say, still looking at his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. His sweater has small spots on the shoulders where snow has fallen and since melted. He shivers.

“You should take a shower. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

Chandler comes over the following Saturday night to hang out with Karl, and you’re surprised at how much he truly hasn’t changed since high school.

He’s still got infamously perfect eyebrows, and his voice is still monotonous despite its humor. “Nice place.” He raises his brows as he looks around.

“Who are you?” Graham is sitting at the kitchen table, watching Minecraft playthroughs (kid-friendly ones you’ve watched through yourself) on your phone to entertain himself while you clean.

“I’m Chandler, Karl’s friend.”

“This is Mr. Jacob’s friend from school,” you say, detailing your words so they’re easier for your son to digest.

Graham stares at him for a moment, not quite judging but not quite accepting either. “Okay. Do you want to see my rock collection?”

Chandler looks genuinely excited, and accepts before you can come up with an excuse for him. Graham tells Chandler to stay in the kitchen while he grabs all of his rocks.

“How have you been?” you ask the taller man. “Like, with the flooding and everything?”

“Well, I’m on a couch at Chris’, which is good since he doesn’t charge rent. But that means I’m near Tucker, and that baby has some lungs.”

You laugh. “I remember when Graham was a baby. I was so young, and my mom told me it was my responsibility to wake up and take care of him whenever he cried in the middle of the night. I was so pissed at her for making me do that, but those were some of the best nights to bond with him.” You realize you’re ranting and shake your head. “Whatever. Baby screams are loud as hell.”

“You can say that again. I’ve been talking to my friend Jimmy about taking his spare room and paying rent. I dunno how many more sleepless nights I can take.”

“Why would you need to pay rent if you’re just crashing?” You wipe down the kitchen table to keep yourself busy.

“Didn’t Karl tell you? Our landlord is in heaps of trouble because the pipes weren’t up to code and that’s why they busted. The damage is basically too expensive to fix, so we’ve got to find new places.”

You stop cleaning. “Karl didn’t tell me that.”

“Oh.” Chandler scratches his brow. “He probably didn’t want to worry you. He feels really bad that he’s stayed with you this long.”

“It’s only been a month or so,” you counter. “Besides, Karl’s a great housemate. He cleans and keeps Graham occupied. Plus, now I have someone to watch corny game shows with.”

Chandler grins. “Oh. Okay, I get it.”

“Get what?” Karl, finally out of the shower, steps into the kitchen and immediately tackles Chandler in an energized hug.

“Nothing!” Chandler’s voice cracks

You shoot Chandler a weird look, and change the subject. “Where are you guys going?”

“To play video games at Jimmy’s.” Karl says, and the thrill in his voice makes you think of high school. Of the debate team bus rounding the corner. Of you standing there, waiting to congratulate him with a big hug and a frosty from Wendy’s.

You miss it. “Have fun, okay? I’m probably going to tuck in as soon as Graham does, so just let yourself in.”

“You’re leaving?” Graham comes in, and his arms are filled with smooth and rough stones and gems he’s both found by himself and bought at random general stores while traveling.

“Not before I see your rocks!” Chandler says with so much enthusiasm, you think he’s telling the truth.

Graham giggles and drops the rocks onto the ground. Of course, he wants your guest to sit on the floor and count rocks. You’re almost embarrassed.

“ ‘ Okay, Y/n?” Karl laughs at your expression. Then he places his arm on your shoulder, thumbs the skin of your upper arm.

And once again, it’s high school. It’s senior year graduation and Karl is the only one who congratulates you. It’s his comforting touch, him coming over in the middle of the night after you texted him a picture of your first sonogram. It’s that same comforting touch. That little “I’m here,” and it melts you on the inside, leaves you in a shell of an eighteen girl again. Scared, and worried, and a little less alone.

“Yeah,” you manage. “I’m okay.”

The television plays Cartoon Network reruns on a low hum. Karl is curled up in a blanket, nursing a bottle of water and thinking over Chandler’s words.

You’ve liked her since high school, dude.

Which is a complete lie. Seriously, Karl didn’t have a crush on you in high school. He would know if he had a crush on his best friend. You’ve been his friend since freshman year, and that’s all you’ve ever been.

Now in college, it was different. In college, Karl was alone in a dorm with Chris, and you were one of the only people from high school he stayed in contact with. In college, he would bring you your favorite snacks and drinks, and other things you would forget to buy because you were a part-time student and a full-time mom. In college, you would pull all-nighters with him, working on your exams while Graham was asleep, then using energy drinks to get through the next day.

Karl even remembers the time your mom caught the three of you fast asleep on your rug, with unopened monster cans and an empty milk bottle beside you.

Throughout your entire pregnancy he was warned not to stay friends with the pregnant girl — it’d be too much for him, he wouldn’t want to become the new father, and all kinds of other stuff people would mumble to him when you weren’t around.

But you never expected him to be anything other than your friend. You never asked him for the help he gave — though you thanked him always — and you never once assumed he’d take the role of Graham’s dad.

And now… now he finds himself wishing you would.

“Mr. Jacobs?” Graham creeps up without him even realizing.

Karl jumps, sets his water — and thoughts — aside. “Hey, Bud. It’s really late. What are you doing up?”

Graham sniffs, and Karl realizes that the boy is crying. “I had a nightmare.”

Karl holds out his arms before he can think, and lets the five-year-old crawl into his lap. He wraps them both in his blanket and turns the television up just a little more. “Was it scary?”

“You left.” Graham says, voice less watery, like he doesn’t know the weight of his words. He’s focused on the rerun of Adventure Time that’s playing. He’s not even remotely interested in his nightmare now, with his tears dried up, and his eyes drooping back towards slumber.

“I’m going to leave one day,” Karl says, because he thinks it’s important that Graham knows.

“You should stay with me and Mom,” Graham says. He yawns. “We like you so much!”

Karl’s heart stutters. He tries not to think about it.

When Graham’s bed is empty the next morning, you freak out. He’s always in his room in the morning. Even if he wakes up before you, he stays in and plays with his toys.

You’ve already got your phone out, and your mother’s number called, when you walk into the living room.

Relief floods your system. Karl and Graham are asleep on the couch, snuggled up serenely like they didn’t just cause you to have a premature heart attack.

You hang up before the call to your mom can go through and stand there, watching the two boys sleep. Graham has both his arms wrapped around Karl’s forearm. It’s such a sweet picture that you take out your phone and snap one.

The flash is on.

Karl scrunches his nose and winces. “What the–”

“Sorry!” You whisper. “You both looked so cute, I couldn’t help it.”

Karl smiles, still sleepy, and finally opens his eyes. He peers at you, stormy green under fluttering lashes and you’re almost intimidated into looking away. “He had a nightmare.”

“Oh?”

“About me leaving.”

“Oh.” You frown. “I’m really sorry about that. I keep telling him that you’re moving out soon, but I don’t think he fully understands.”

Graham stirs. You reach down and pick him up. Your knuckles brush across Karl’s warm, sweater-clad chest and you suddenly wish you could cuddle with him, too. You shake the thoughts away and focus on your drowsy son. “You’re staying at Grandma's for a few days, remember?”

Graham rubs his eyes and perks up. “And I’ll see her cat?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “But we’ve got to get you dressed because she’s coming in a few minutes.”

“Karl Jacobs!” Your mom’s voice embarrassingly rings through the apartment, and you realize Karl has taken it upon himself to open the door. “Y/n told me she had a temporary roommate but I never thought she would finally ask you!”

“Oh my gosh…” you mumble, buckling Graham’s overalls and hauling him up into your arms. “Mom! His apartment flooded so he’s staying here. Don’t be weird about it.”

“But he’s so handsome,” your mom coos. You’re concerned she might reach forward and pinch Karl’s already ruddy cheeks.

“Thanks,” Karl laughs. “But she’s right, I’m just squatting until I can find a new place.”

Your mom harrumphs. “Well, I don’t see why you can’t stay here forever. Y/n doesn’t even use that office room. And even if she did, the two of you could just share a room.”

“Mom!” You plunk Graham into her hands and grab his overnight bag. “You have to leave.”

“Did I say something wrong?” She sounds worried, but there’s an undisclosed mirth in her eyes that makes you think of your freshman year, when you did have a crush on Karl.

“You said everything wrong,” you say, kindly pushing her out. “Have a good time, Graham. I love you! As always, Mom, call if you need me to come get him.”

“Yeah, right!” She yells over her shoulder. Graham is already giggling, so you close the door with confidence.

You turn back to your roommate. “I’m sorry about that, Karl.”

“It’s fine.” He smiles, but it’s reserved. “But speaking of me finding a place… I know Chandler told you that I can’t go back to my own apartment. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You want to say “You can stay here as long as you want, and long as you’ll let me keep you,” but that would reveal too much, and you don’t want to lose the one good friend you have.

“And I was thinking I should move out soon anyway.” Karl pulls his sweater sleeves until they cover his hands. He’s hiding. He’s shielding himself the same way he did in junior year, when he got turned down by his crush to go to the prom. “I don’t think it’s good for Graham to get this attached to me if I’m just going to leave.”

“Oh,” Your sleeves are too short, but you want to shield yourself too. “Yeah, that’s… that’s probably a good idea.”

Karl stands there for a beat, like he’s waiting for you to say something more. Like he hasn’t just taken your heart and pushed it aside. Like this hurts a lot less than it actually does.

But any word out of your mouth would be tearful. It would be honest. It would ruin everything. “I’m going to go on a run.”

There’s a cricket outside that won’t stop chirping against your window. You blame it for your insomnia, choosing to ignore the anxiety of eventually losing Karl. It feels so horribly childish, since you’ll see him when you drop Graham off at school. And you’ll see him whenever the two of you go out for coffee on weekends.

But you won’t see him in the kitchen, reaching for the pancake mix so his shirt rises up and you can see the dimples in his back. You won’t see him humming along to the radio while he works on his lesson plans. You won’t feel his warmth when the two of you stay awake, nursing spiked lemonade and giggling at the commentary videos you find on YouTube.

He’ll just be Karl again. He won’t be home anymore.

Startled by the realization, you get out of your covers and rush to your door.

It opens before you can even reach for the doorknob, and there’s Karl in his pajamas, biting his lip and avoiding your eyes.

“I don’t want you to leave,” you say, just as Karl confesses,

“I love you.”

You open your arms and he dives in, face pressed into the space where your neck meets your shoulder. Warmth envelopes you and the scent of pine fills your nose.

Karl is timeless. Youthful glory and childish pride. He’s a pinch on the side and a push on the swings. Like a rock that actually skips on the first try. Like shoes that you can slip on when they’re still tied. And he’s here, in your arms, squeezing you like you’re something valuable enough to lose. He’s confessing love like you aren’t the worst possible candidate for his heart.

“I can’t offer you much,” you start, but Karl bumps his forehead against yours, boyish and playful — football fields and bright red lockers and secret notes on bathroom walls.

“I’ve known you for years, Y/n,” Karl’s voice is a low rumble. Green grass eyes blinking at you like you’re something to second glance at. “I know what I’m getting into. I want you. I want Graham. I want everything this is, and everything we’ve been for the past month. I don’t want this to end.”

You close your eyes, because his are too honest. He’s open and vulnerable and gentle — a child on the first day of school, ready to make friends. You take a deep breath, try to remember what you were like on your first day. Rosy cheeks and shy glances. Knobby knees and a trusting heart. You reach out for whoever you once were — the Y/n with a heart open and willing to be loved. “I don’t want this to end either. I’m in love with you, Karl.”

His grin lights up your world in its entirety. Gold flecks in emerald green disappear as he smiles, too thrilled to keep his eyes open. And when he kisses you, warm lips against cold ones, you feel like a puzzle has just slotted into place.

It would only make sense that you would grow to love the boy you grew up with.

[akaashioppa]

11:00pm

pairings: Mikey x reader 

summary: Sneaking out of you house with Mikey has always been a tradition of yours. You would always call it late date night...well not until you finally got caught.

warnings: curse words, arguing with your fictional dad. fluffy then angsty

w/c: 2.7k

Masterlist

“You got to hurry before I get caught, Mikey!”

“So what? I wouldn’t mind it.”

You were hanging from your bedroom’s balcony, Mikey was underneath you trying to brace your fall. He had his long tan arms in the air motioning for you to jump in them. After all the thousands of times, you did this it was still rocky. You and Mikey haven’t perfected the routine yet. You would think the more you snuck out of your own house you would have perfected it by now.

“Just jump baby…”

“We’re six feet in the air!” You shrieked out, You had your back facing him. Your attention was constantly going back and forth from Mickey and your bedroom door. The house was big enough that no one could hear what was going on but your older brother had a habit of coming into your room unannounced.

“I got you. Have I ever let you fall before?”

You thought back on the times that you were together. Not once has he ever put you in danger...well not intentionally but he would always protect you. You are always left unscathed from dangerous situations. “Okay, I’m letting go..” The cold feeling of the rail left your embrace, your feet were no longer planted on the other side of the balcony. You were free-falling six feet in the air. Your eyes remained closed until you felt his muscular arms around your body.

“I told you that I got you.” You opened your eyes to see his soulless black eyes that you admired so much. That iconic smirk that you loved was as well. ‘Why is he so perfect?’

“Come on, we’ll be late.”

After gracefully putting you on your feet, you both ran in the direction of his bike. It was too loud for him to pull in your driveway so he tends to park down the street so your parents wouldn’t awake from his engine roaring.

Mikey helped you onto his CB205T. It was his favorite bike out of all of them. This was the only bike of his that he would never let you drive. You would beg him to let  you drive it but he would say ‘I don’t want you getting hurt.’ You rolled your eyes at the thought.

He placed his old helmet on your head, tying it tightly, he gave you a small pat on the head. You smiled sweetly back at him, he was so cute and kind. It was the small gestures that he did that made you fall even more in love with him.

Mikey sped off towards the destination. He never told you where you were going, he only said get ready by 11 pm and don’t ask any further questions. Lately, this has been a recurring event, Mikey has made it your thing. He’d pick you up, drive around on his bike for a few minutes so you both could see the city lights then he would take you somewhere random. It always ends up being the best night of your life. 

“Hey, we’re here.” You lifted your head from his shoulders blades, It was your way of keeping things from flying into your eyeballs. You were in an abandoned parking lot which was odd, there was no human activity, barely any street lights, however, there was a great view from where you stood. This abandoned parking lot was above a cliff, it leads out to the city of Tokyo.

“Wow, this is amazing.” 

“I found it and thought you would like it. You can see everything from this view. If you look towards the right you can see the cherry blossom trees. They’re in season.”

“Really!?” You took a look towards the right, there were rows of cherry blossom trees lined up with small humans taking pictures. A river not too far away from the trees, it was filled with the petals of the cherry blossoms. “That’s so freaking beautiful. How could such an anti romantic be romantic?”

You caught him rolling his eyes, he threw a quick yet soft jab in your ribs. 

“You’re annoying,” he muttered out. Although it came out dry you knew he would never call you that intentionally. 

“You love me don’t ya.”

You grinned from ear to ear waiting for him to acknowledge what you said. The thing is he didn’t, he kept his attention on the people down below. This didn’t stop you from cheesing like an idiot though. 

He scoffed, rolling his eyes simultaneously. You wouldn’t allow that grin to disappear. You kept it on your face even when Mikey turned to look at you.  “If I say yes will you stop teasing me?”

“Nope.”He reached out grabbing you around your waist. He swung you around making your legs swing in every other direction. You begged him to stop. The amount of laughter that you were crying out helped make a cramping sensation in your stomach.

He finally put you down after spinning you around. After calming down for your “game” You both walked back to the edge watching the cherry blossom trees.

You placed your head on his shoulder, his arms snake around your waist pulling you in closer. You didn’t retreat, you only placed your hands around his neck. “Hey, don’t you think it’s crazy how many people live in our city? Out of all those people I managed to find you.” You mumbled into his neck.

“That was so cheesy.” He snorted out,  he ruined the moment which earned him a jab in the ribs. “Wait here me out. Maybe it’s the university trying to tell us something.”

“What if it’s just a phase? Who says we won’t grow apart?”

You felt him squeeze you tighter against him, “Then we’ll just grow apart. If it’s meant to be, we'll see each other again.” 

There was a silence cast around you two. Mikey released you from his grasp, You leaned over the railing to take in the view. Everything was going so well tonight. You felt Mikey’s arms wrapping around your waist again, he turned you around so you were both facing each other. That cheeky smile that he always wore was evidence that he was happy, he was living in the moment right along with you.  An outburst of laughter erupted from both of your lips, you still were in each other arms but you couldn’t seem to stop laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“I just realized that I’m in love with someone. How bizarre is that?”

“I lo-”

Your sentence was cut short, the vibration in your pants pocket made all of the blood drain from your face. You reached down to pull out your phone, the screen read ‘dad’. You didn’t answer it, you only let it ring.

“Fuck! I have to go home. We have to go now!”

Mikey stood there with a blank expression on his face, you snapped your fingers in his face to get his attention, shoving your face in his phone to see who called you. 

“What’s going on? Who was that?”

He grabbed your phone from your hand so he could get a clear look at your screen. By you shoving the phone in his face he could barely see the name on the screen. The only thing he did was say “oh” and left it like that. He shoved his hands in his pockets with a nonchalant attitude.

“Why are you just standing there!? Come on Mikey!”

You tried pushing him towards his bike, he only stood there holding his ground. His hands were still in his pockets as he did you. 

He sighed, “What’s the difference? You’re already out past your curfew, what's a little more hours.”

“Are you crazy!” You screeched, “It was my dad! We have to go!”

For the second time of the night, a cast of silence was between you two. The only thing that was heard was your heavy breathing from yelling at him and the traffic from down below. Mikey still had that blank expression on his face until he smiled.

“It was a joke. Come on, I'll get you home.”

“Manjiro Sano!!”

Mikey grabbed your hand making your entire body jerk forward, “You better hurry before you’re late.” His laughter filled the air, it made you feel a little better. Mikey helped you get safely on his bike before doing the same with himself. He let the engine pur twice making your heart beat along with the engine.

“You ready?” He looked back at you with a smirk on his face. He licked his lips a little before making his engine roar a little.

“Yeah.”

He sped off into the night dodging cars nearly crashing into them. Mikey was a great driver and very cautious. He just tends to get wild at times. Sometimes you think he forgets that you’re on the back of his bike. He’s always zoned out when he drives, it’s like he was in his own little world. 

It didn’t take long for you to get home. The word speed limit was not in Mikey’s dictionary. Mikey turned off the engine of his bike. You were down the street from your house, you could clearly see the light in the living room. You cursed silently under your breath, “I’m so screwed.”

“Just climb into your bedroom window and pretend to be asleep. If he asks why you didn't pick up your phone, say that you were asleep.”

“Okay, what if that doesn’t work?”

He glanced back at you with determination in his eyes, “Then call me.”

“Yeah, I like the first option better.”

Mikey stood back watching you as you ran in the direction of your house. You ran to your window just staring at it. It was six feet in the air so your only option was to climb the tree and somehow jump from the tree to your balcony. 

You began to climb the big oak tree in your yard. Mikey tried to help you from down below. He stood there with his hands on his hips smiling up at you. “How’s it going up there?”

“Well you know I’m just hanging around.”

You both cracked up at your corny joke.

The only thing left to do was put your foot on the balcony while balancing yourself on the tree. Mikey stood down below with the same stance, he was making sure that you did not fall. You silently counted in your head before throwing yourself onto your balcony. You tumbled a little, some bruising was definitely going to be there in the morning.

“Did you make it!?”

You used the wooden poles on your balcony to help you pull yourself up. Mickey was still down below but now hiding behind the big oak tree. You gave him a thumbs up, he smiled back in return, running leaving you behind with the situation up ahead.

“Welcome back” You didn’t even take a step into your room and your dad had already slid the door open scaring you half to death. He slid the balcony door open further allowing you to come into the room. “Why didn’t you tell your boyfriend to come in for a snack?”

You made your way to your bed wishing that you could shrink down into a little ball. The sarcasm in his voice didn’t make it any better. Your dad was pissed, the vein that was protruding from the side of his forehead looked like it was going to pop. 

“Uhh, he’s shy.” You gave your dad a dry chuckle but stopped when he shot you an ugly glare. He sat down in the chair in front of your bed with one of his legs over the other and one of his hands pressed against his forehead.

“How did you guys meet!?”

“At school dad.” You mumbled, he was already starting to yell. 

“How!? I sent you to a private school.”

You almost laughed in your dad’s face, the memory of meeting Mikey was always funny. It was a running joke in your relationship. 

“Well, Mikey came into our classroom to fight our teacher. BUT! He had a good reason. Mikey was driving his bike when Toka-san almost ran him off the road. Mikey followed him to school and beat the living shit out of him. I thought it was hot so I approached him and the rest is history.”  

“What’s the matter with you?” He shot out of his chair waving his arms in the air. “Why would you want to date someone like that!? You’re an (L/N), live up to that name. Don’t be a fucking disappointment.”

You scoffed at your dad. This time you made it audible for not only him to hear but anyone else that is listening. “Dad, that's rude!”

“I don’t want you ever classifying yourself as one of them. He’s a delinquent, a gangster, you have more class than that. You can find someone better than him. I will not have my daughter running around here with a delinquent.”

“He’s not a delinquent!”

“Then what is he!?”

You ignored his question. You didn’t want to answer it. You knew that Mikey classified himself as that but to you, he was much more than what people portrayed him to be. These fucking millennials and their biased opinions. You were not going to let him bash your boyfriend and get away with it.

“He’s Mickey Sano. You shouted, you jumped off of your bed so now you were facing your dad eye to eye. “He’s much more than a delinquent or a gangster. He’s a human being so start treating him like one. Oh and if you’re going to label him at least label him right. He’s much more than a delinquent, he’s actually smarter than what you make him out to be.” 

Your dad sat back down in his chair. This allowed you to look down on him but then it hit you. You were never this confident, You...standing up to your dad. Just wait until Mikey here’s about this. All of those conversations about boosting your confidence have paid off. 

“Yeah alright keep believing that. He’s only here for one thing and one thing only (Y/N). Once he gets that he’s out of here.”

Jokes on you he’s already got it and look, he’s still here.

You didn’t say that to your dad, you knew he would only blow up in your face more. Then lecture would then cause your entire family to get dragged in. He would go on a manhunt to find Mikey and “kill him.

“Okay, dad, whatever you say.”

You grew tired of all of this back and forth with him. You weren’t going to argue with him anymore, so you sat down on your bed awaiting the next thing he had to say.

“If I catch you out with him again I’ll treat you like a real princess and lock your ass up here for the rest of your life.

You scoffed out loud for him to hear, the vein in his forehead was now back more evident than before.

“I knew I was going to get in trouble but dad, punishments are temporary, memories are forever. So while I’m grounded I’ll be thinking about how good he has been to me while you have been treating me like trash.”

“That’s it you are grounded until next summer.”

“Okay, dad.” You mocked out.

 “One more thing if I catch that Mickey, Micheal-” You cut him off, “Mikey, his name is Mikey.” 

Your dad rolled his eyes, he walked to the door opening it. Half of his body was already outside of the room. You were wishing he would just put his whole body out there and leave you alone.

“If I see that Mikey boy around here again I’m calling the cops.” Your dad stood there for a second before closing the door. Once alone you throw your head in your pillows.“Snitch.” You mumbled.

He came back into the room with an irritated look on his face. His eyebrows were so close together it looked like they were about to merge. “What did you say?”

You tried your best to keep your laughter at bay but you couldn’t help yourself. “Nothing.” You snorted out. He stood there with the same expression, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. You were about to burst out in a laugh. You waited for your dad to leave the room so you could laugh at the way he looked at you after you called him a snitch.

[patt-writes-stuff]

Violetgrass (Xiao x f!reader)

Pairing: Yan!Xiao x f!reader

Word count: 6.7K+

Warnings: not the most canon complaint cuz the timeline for the archon War is a little blurry? Angst with no happy ending, major and repeated character death, semi-detailed descriptions of blood, injuries, and violence. Unhealthy and toxic relationships, yandere themes, mentions of stalking, controlling behavior, mentions of kid-napping, forced captivity. Unhealthy mindsets and generally xiao’s kinda slowly losing his sanity. Some delusions. Allusions of starvation/dehydration (it’s like one sentence). Pleas do not read this if any of the previously mentioned topics trigger you in any way.

Genre: Angst and Yandere

Tags/Aus: Mythology Au, Reincarnation Au

Summary: You and Xiao were lovers during the Archon War. You were his paradise, his bliss, and, unfortunately, a fragile mortal who was taken away far too soon. However Celestina was kind enough, or perhaps cruel enough, to bring you back to Xiao, only to rip you out of his loving embrace once more. This happens again and again, each time far more painfully than the last. Even an Adeptus such as Xiao can only take so much before he snaps though. This time, he’s gonna make sure that no one, not even you, can take his bliss away.

A/N: This is my piece for the Attack on Academia Mythology Au Collab!! Be sure to check the rest of them, they’re all super awesome and made by amazing writers!

You’ve heard the myth about the Vigilant Yaksha and the violetgrass maiden, haven’t you?

It’s said that the two are eternally intertwined, destined to love each other, only to be ripped apart by both her mortality and the cruelty of the gods. The tale itself goes like this…

The first time the Adeptus and his mortal lover met was back when the Archon War was still roaring. The smell of blood and misery filled the air and Rex Lapis had yet to claim his title as the Geo Archon. Despite this, some managed to find joy and serenity in these troubling periods.

The maiden was one of those people. She found joy in frolicking through the fields and climbing the highest mountains to collect qingxin flowers and, her personal favorite, violetgrass, whenever she had the time. Though climbing up the steep mountains and jagged peaks of Liyue was indeed dangerous, the damsel had become quite skilled at climbing, her hold rarely ever slipping, no falls or cuts of any sort.

Until one day, the maiden was climbing up a particular mountain. It was a troublesome one, for there were no proper footholds or protruding stones to grab on to. Still, the pretty violetgrass that was just a foot or two away from her, swaying gently with the wind, was far too tempting to not collect. It would look so lovely in a flower crown, or maybe a vase, perhaps she could flatten it out to make a bookmark or-

A piercing shriek escaped the mortal. Whilst her thoughts had been elsewhere, she’d stopped on a small ledge that was far too fragile to support her weight, the rock beneath the maiden gave away to nothing before she could react.

She shut their eyes tightly, bracing herself for an impact that would surely leave her battered and bruised, if not dead.

However, it never came.

Instead, she was caught mid-air by a pair of strong arms that secured their hold under the mortal woman’s knees and neck. She didn’t open her eyes right away, for fear that she would still fall, choosing instead to catch their breath. Once her savior landed safely on the ground, something she was able to detect due to the thud of shoes against the earth, she slowly opened her eyes.

Upon opening them, her eyes met with the piercing amber eyes of a young man with dark hair (the color of the ocean at night, she thought dreamily) with pretty teal bangs framing his even prettier face. His brows were furrowed slightly, thin lips twisted into what seemed to be a permanent frown. In her still dazed state, she couldn’t help but think that he was far too handsome to look so dreadfully serious.

After an intense moment of eye contact, perhaps too intense for two strangers that had met only seconds prior, he let her go in a rather unceremonious manner, causing her to squawk in surprise, knees buckling under the unexpected weight. She had not yet had a chance to gather her bearings after such a terrifying event.

Instead of asking if she was alright, the young man simply said, in a rather crude and callous manner, “You should be more careful, mortal. If I hadn’t been there to catch you, you would’ve surely broken your neck.”

She gawked at him. Mortal? Why would he refer to her in such an… odd way?

The maiden looked at him up and down, as if trying to understand just what was wrong with this poor man. Suddenly, it struck her. She’d been an absolute idiot to not have noticed sooner. From the tattoo that adorned his right arm to the way he held himself, it had been so obvious.

Her savior was an Adeptus.

He wasn’t just an Adeptus, no. He was much more than that. He was one of the Adepti who served under Rex Lapis. He was one of the five Yakshas who kept her and the people of Liyue safe if the mask tied to his belt was any indication. And instead of killing demons or evil gods, he’d taken the time to save her.

Before she could muster an adequate thank you, he, who she’d now realized was Adeptus Xiao, was already leaving, uttering a quick “Please be careful,” on his way.

Quickly, and without really thinking, she grabbed onto his wrist, blabbering out the words, “Wait, don’t go! You must allow me to repay you for your generous actions!”

The amber-eyed Adeptus opened his mouth, ready to declare that it was unnecessary, but before he could, the damsel spoke up, “I could cook you something in return. How about almond tofu?” with a small giggle she added, “I assure you it’s sweeter than those dreams you eat.”

To both of their surprises, Xiao uttered a quiet, almost shy, “Yes.”

The Adeptus didn’t know what had come over him. All he knew is that there was something about the way her eyes sparkled and her lips moved, her soothing, melodious voice. It made his heart pound in a way it never had before.

And so, she cooked him some almond tofu, and they- well, she- talked as he ate the mouthwatering sweet.

He came back the day after that one and the one after that, followed on by the one after that, and so on. Xiao hadn’t meant to, really he hadn’t. But there was something about the maiden that just brought him a peace he had never experienced before. Her warm embrace and soft, gentle words were all he needed to keep fighting, to keep living, even. She was his paradise, his bliss. It wasn’t long until they were mutually infatuated with one another, deeply in love.

Every time he would visit her home, he would always bring her the flowers she so adored. Glaze lilies, silk flowers, and of course, violetgrass. Xiao had even gifted her a small broach, one made of the finest noctilucous jade, shaped like the downturned purple flower.

Unfortunately, everything is temporary for those punished with immortality.

The first time Xiao lost his maiden was, as he remembers, a rainy day. Despite the dreary weather, she had decided to go violetgrass picking since they’re always best picked after the rain.

But, dear Archons, what a dreadful idea that had been.

While the purple flower is indeed best picked after it rains, it is also the time when rocks are most… slippery.

So, as the maiden was climbing up the steep mountains of Juyen Karst, her right hand’s hold on the rock slipped, causing her palm to be cut open by a particularly jagged piece of stone. She hissed in, watching as blood began to ooze out. Panic started to seep in, there was no ledge for her to tend to her wound, and the cut was far too big for her to continue to climb up or down.

Dread began to fill her to her very core, she felt burning hot with unchecked anxiety, fear begging to settle into her gut in the most uncomfortable of manners. She should have waited for Xiao as he had asked of her. Ever since they had first met, a year ago to the day, he’d been so adamant on wanting to go with her to ensure her safety. She’d only wanted to surprise him with some when he returned home. The maiden was so sure it would’ve been a romantic anniversary gift, seeing as they were the cause of their meeting…

She’d been such a fool.

The violetgrass maiden attempted to climb down but Celestia seemed to laugh at her feeble attempts. She stretched her leg, trying to find the foothold she had used previously. However, her foot slipped and before she knew it, she was falling, just as she had been a year ago.

Horror filled her lungs, making it hard for her to breathe, her life flashed before her eyes, and then suddenly she remembered some words her lover had uttered to her one night under the glow of the moonlight when it was but the two of them in each other’s arms:

“If you awake to a knife at your throat, if monsters dig their claws into you, if death comes knocking at your door, call out my name, Adeptus Xiao. I will be here when you call.”

And so she called, at the top of her lungs, as loud as she could muster. The seconds seemed to turn to hours as she shut her eyes and waited to feel the strong arms of her lover, to hear the safety of his heartbeat.

But it never came.

Or rather, it came too late.

By the time Xiao had finished up the demonic creatures that threatening Liyue, by the time he’d answered her call, he was already too late.

Upon manifesting in the air out of nothing, he was greeted by the side of his love’s pitiful, mortal body. Her garments were bloody, the basket she carried her flowers in laid a few feet away from her body,her neck bent in a painfully awkward way.

Xiao felt so helpless. He was so helpless.

He could do no more than hold back the tears stinging his eyes and attempting to shake her awake.

The second time Xiao met the maiden was no more than a century after the first time. The Archon War was not yet over and sickness plagued every nook and cranny, taking the lives of hundreds upon thousands.

The two star-crossed lovers were reunited one clear summer night when the maiden was wandering aimlessly through the fields of Lingju Pass. She knew it was dangerous during these times, especially with how ill she had been feeling as of late. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to care. She’d already spent hours tossing and turning in her bed. Sleep, however, refused to come. Instead, she felt the overwhelming urge to leave the safety of her bed and go there. It was as if someone had tied a rope around her waist and was tugging at it persistently, insisting she follows.

And so she followed.

Upon reaching a clearing, she froze. In front of her very eyes was a sitting Stonehide Lawachurl, the type even the fiercest warriors in your village struggled with. The maiden quickly started backing away, praying to the Lord of Geo that it wouldn’t sense her presence. Her prayers were in vain, however, for as soon as the thought escaped her, she stepped on a twig, making it snap and effectively alerting the fearsome monster of her presence.

She shook in terror as parts of the Lawachurl’s rocky exterior began to glow with geo elemental energy. She hadn’t expected anything of the sort to happen so she hadn’t brought her sword, meaning she couldn’t exactly fight it, definitely not without a vision at least. Running wasn’t much of an option considering her body’s weak and ill state. She could try to outrun it, sure, but it wouldn’t be long before she was driven to a coughing fit because of it.

Before life had a chance to flash before her eyes, a masked young man appeared. Distantly, she recognized him as one of the adepti and watched him easily defeat the Stonehide Lawachurl with a series of short, consecutive plunges. She couldn’t help but watch him, mouth agape in an expression of pure, unadulterated awe. The Adeptus didn’t even need a claymore to break through the creature’s thick, hard exterior. As bad as she felt for not assisting him, she knew she weren’t exactly in any position to lend a hand. Not that she needed to, though, for soon enough the monster crumbled into nothing but red and black smoke.

After a second of panting over the remains of what was left of the creature, polearm in hand, Xiao turned to her and felt his blood run cold.

It was her.

How could it be her? She had died long ago. He knew she had, he’d cradled her cold body as tears streamed down his face. He’d taken her lifeless body back to her family. He’d left flowers at her grave.

This had to be some sort of sick joke, he thought, perhaps the karmic debt was finally getting to him, just like it had his fellow Yakshas.

Suddenly, his amber eyes zeroed in on a broach she had pinned to her dress. A Violetgrass broach, to be exact. Made of noctilucous jade, just like the one he had given her. The one he’d made for her with his own hands. There was no denying it was the very one. Only, how could that be? He had ensured it had been buried with you…

But it was an indisputable fact. That broach was the one he had made for his love and the woman before him was her. It was her from her wide eyes, fixated on him with the same wonder they had always had when they looked at him. Her hair was the same color and texture, and it framed her face in the same way. It was her.

The beginnings of tears stung at his eyes. Perhaps Celestia had brought you back? Perhaps they’d finally realized, just as he had always known, that her death was cruel and unfair. That it wasn’t meant to be. That she was meant to be in his arms, happy and safe.

“Uhm- excuse me, Adeptus Xiao, are you alright?” She inquired worriedly, eyes solely on him, filled to the brim with concern.

‘Oh Archons’, he couldn’t help but think distantly, ‘I’ve missed her voice.’

Instead of running up to her and crushing him in his loving embrace, he stayed where he was, took off his mask, nodded briskly, swallowing as if to avoid the tightness in his throat. She didn’t seem to remember him yet, so there was no use in frightening her.

Before he could muster up the courage to speak to her, his love began to cough furiously, though she attempted to cover it up. She didn’t want to be rude to her savior, after all.

“Ha, pardon me, sir, I’ve just been feeling a bit under the weather is all,” she told him feebly.

He nodded brusquely, before uttering, “I shall return you home safely.”

“Oh no, I assure you, you’ve done more than enough for me. I can’t ask that of you,” she fumbled hurriedly, though his words were more of a statement than a question.

Xiao had never been one for unnecessary- or at least what he thought were unnecessary- words, so instead of saying anything, the Adeptus simply grabbed her by the waist and teleported you home, after asking where home was, of course.

The next day, the Yaksha visited the maiden’s home, a bushel of violetgrass flowers in hand. She’d been understandably surprised, yet thrilled that the dark-haired man was visiting her. She hadn’t expected someone as busy as him to make time for a regular person such as herself, especially not during these times.

“These are my favorite flowers, y’know? They’re just so beautiful,” the maiden exclaimed gleefully.

He did know. That had been one of the reasons he had brought them to her. The second reason was because of what happened last time, in her previous life, he supposed. Celestia had been kind enough to gift him a second chance with his love, and he was going to ensure that it did not go to waste.

And so, every day he would visit her. Some days he would bring silk flowers, or glaze lilies, while other days he would bring her loach pearls and core lapis. Not a day went by where he would not appear in front of the damsel’s house, a gift in hand, ready to hear her ramble about whatever that beautiful brain of hers desired to prattle on about.

“You’re simply too generous Xiao,” she’d told him playfully while she laid in her bed, as she was still unwell, the Adeptus seated in a plush chair next to it. “There has to be something I can give you in return for everything. I won’t take no for an answer.”

He thought for a moment, before asking, tentatively, “Do you know how to make almond tofu?”

He’d never forget her dazzling smile that day, as she shakily got out of her bed, latching onto the support he offered while she gathered her bearings, and marched to her kitchen, enthusiastically preparing the sweet treat as she talked about a book she’d been reading, one that’d been gifted to her by a friend, titled Moonlit Bamboo Forest.

The lovers did this every day for months. Xiao brought her some medicinal tea that Rex Lapis himself said could cure her ailments. They did indeed begin to see improvement in her health and Xiao couldn’t help but feel immense relief. This time, he wouldn’t lose her for certain.

Until the plagues reached her village.

She’d been one of the first to catch it since the village doctor came to check on her so often, he’d spread it to her. The plague, coupled with her previous illness, weakened her body in a manner of days. One day, Xiao went to get some medicine his fellow adepti had guaranteed would help the maiden feel better.

When he returned later that day, however, he found her body in the bed, cold and without a pulse, the stench of death and sickness thick in the air.

That was the second time he had lost her.

The third time the star-crossed lovers met was long after the archon war. Liyue was now its own nation with its own name, the great center of wealth and commerce. The Yakshas were now a thing of the past, having succumbed to their karmic debt. Eventually, they all fell in one way or another.

All but Xiao, who remained a constant throughout it all.

Over the past decade or so, Xiao had taken to staying at the Wangshu Inn when he wasn’t slaying monsters. The people were nice enough, though he had long given up on attempting to form emotional connections with others. It would only lead to grief, just like it had when he’d lost his love or his fellow Yakshas, and there was only so much grief anyone, mortal or not, could take before their thread of sanity snapped in half. And with his Karmic Debt being as bad as it was…

As Xiao sat at the edge of the balcony of the Wangshu Inn, legs dangling below, he couldn’t help but think of her, his maiden. He wondered if, perhaps, Celestia would give him a third chance and bring her back to him. Honestly, the Adeptus wasn’t sure he wanted a third chance with her. While he did miss the sound of her heartbeat and the sweet words she’d utter to him and only him, he doubted he could bear the pain of having her ripped away from him once again.

It’s as if Celestia was taunting Xiao. As if the Archons above were bored and found some sick amusement in his pain as if his emotions were nothing but a game to them. What other explanations were there for what happened next?

“Um- excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?” An angelic voice he knew far too well, missed far too much, spoke.

Xiao looked up and lo and behold, it was her. Same hair, same eyes, same violetgrass broach.

She stood behind him clutching a plate of something, though the angle wouldn’t allow him to make up what it was. Her face adorned that same anxious smile of hers and he could feel himself falling in love with the maiden all over again. He knew he should say no. He shouldn’t allow her back in, not when he’s already lost her so many times before, not when they’d both suffered so much just by being together.

He nodded before looking away.

He shouldn’t but he would.

“I hope you don’t mind me intruding on your quiet time,” she said softly once she had settled beside him. When he made no indication of answering, she continued, “To be honest, you just seemed so… sad, melancholic even. Something about it, even if I don’t really know you, doesn’t sit right with me. It makes my heart feel heavy.”

The violetgrass maiden received no response, except for a soft grunt of acknowledgment, so small she wasn’t sure she hadn’t imagined it. Still, it was all she needed to perk up and stretch her arms out, offering him the plate she’d been holding.

“Here, I got this for you,” she told him, “word around the streets is you’ve got quite an appetite for it! Though this is my first time staying at the Inn, so I’m not sure if it’s any good here.”

Xiao looked at her, amber eyes filled with love. He was glad to know that, despite living through many lives now, she was still the girl he’d met back then, as sweet as he’d remembered her, just as caring.

He shouldn’t have but he took the plate from her hands and began to eat.

Instead of saying anything, she simply watched him as he ate, a silly little smile making its way to her face. The look on his lady’s face had him growing hot and turning beet red

“So,” he coughed out, embarrassed, “where’d you get a broach like that?”

“Oh, this one?” She inquired, pointing at the shiny violetgrass broach, “I found it lying on the ground one day when I was out picking lotus heads for dinner. I asked just about everyone in Liyue Harbor if it was theirs, but no luck. I eventually decided to just keep it for myself. It is a shame though, whoever lost it must truly be upset over losing such a beautiful piece of jewelry. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

He nodded along, thinking that, well, the broach actually was with its owner.

“It’s as if it were fate though,” she prattled on happily, watching the stars as she talked, “Violeygrass is my very favorite, always has been really. Though, I’ve always been too scared to climb up for them myself. You see, ever since I was little, I’ve had this recurring nightmare where I fell to my death while collecting some.”

The Adeptus stilled for a second, tense. She hadn’t ever brought up dreams about her past life. Maybe this time was different, maybe she’d remember what he did!

“Oh my Archons,” she exclaimed, face warm with embarrassment, scratching the back of her head sheepishly, “I’ve been going on and on! I’m so sorry, something about you feels so familiar. It makes me feel like I can tell you just about everything. Is that weird?”

His heart was racing like it hadn’t in years, decades even.

“You can tell me whatever you want,” he answered shortly, “I don’t mind listening. You have a nice voice.”

The maiden covered her hands with her face, flustered, and Xiao let out a rare smile, soft and gentle. This time would be different. He’d make sure of it.

After that day, the maiden began to visit the Wangshu Inn often, whenever she could spare time away from her job. Unbeknownst to her, however, Xiao followed at a distance when she wasn’t visiting him, to ensure her safety. He knew it wasn’t right, truly, but he had no other choice. He had to, or else he’d risk losing her to an accident such as last time, fall ill again, attacked by monsters or, Celestia forbid, be kidnapped by a group of treasure hoarders.

He’d have to get rid of any and all threats.

So, Xiao continued to follow his maiden from a distance, he made sure she was in tip-top shape, and ruthlessly slaughtering all enemies that he deemed a threat to her, until he was certain nothing would take her away from him again.

Except for one threat. Himself.

The third time he’d lost her was on a beautiful night, not that Xiao could remember it well. His love had insisted on the two of them taking a walk. She’d reasoned that the cool night air would help him regain control. His karmic debt had been weighing on him an awful lot recently and she simply couldn’t bear to see him in such excruciating pain.

The walk had started off rather pleasantly, as far as Xiao could remember. He could remember nudging his hand against hers, wanting to hold it but being far too shy to do so. With a laugh and a teasing remark, the maiden interlaced their fingers, bringing up their hands to place a gentle kiss on his, making the tips of his ears redden in bashfulness. They’d walked a little further until they encountered a group of hilichurls accompanied by a pyro abyss mage. Without skipping a beat, Xiao stepped in front of his lover, polearm appearing in his hand.

And then…

Everything went dark. Xiao’s mind was nothing but a void, pain exploded in every inch of his body as his karmic debt returned in full force to punish him for the slaughtering he’d committed.

When he came to, his mind was hazy, unsure of what had occurred. The Yaksha sat up, ignoring the way his muscles protested against it, and looked around, trying to make sense of what had happened and where he was.

Xiao froze when his eyes locked onto her pitiful body laying a few feet ahead of him in the grass surrounded by arrowheads and broken hilichurl masks, blood turning ice-cold. If he ignored the gashes across her body, the ones that were unmistakably made by the bloody spear he was clutching and not some hilichurl club or bow and arrow, and the blood that stained her pretty garments, he could almost fool himself into thinking she was asleep.

This had been his doing.

After a few beats of stunned silence, the dark-haired Adeptus lurched forward grabbing onto her cold body and shaking ruthlessly, calling out her name frantically, as if it would make his love wake up, make her cradle his face lovingly and ask why he’d been crying.

Xiao looked up onto the sky scornfully, looking up at Celestia with nothing short of pure, unadulterated loathing. He was willing to bet they were all mocking him right now, laughing at how weak and pathetic he was, at how time after time, he’d failed to love her enough, to keep her alive. They did this on purpose he was sure of it, those bastards. Well, if they could play dirty like this, so could he. He’d get her back, he’d keep her alive by his side.

And just like that, Xiao’s thread of sanity snapped.

“You can’t take her away from me anymore,” he spoke to the sky nonsensically, “I won’t let you. I don’t care what I have to do, who I have to kill, you won’t take my bliss away from me again.”

“That story was quite depressing,” Chongyun stated, ceasing his footsteps to look to his friend, Xingqiu.

“Ah yes, it is indeed, my liege,” the navy blue-haired gentleman agreed, “However, I’m glad this book included the whole myth, instead of making me wait for the next volume like the last one.”

The light blue-haired boy rolled his eyes before saying, “As much as I appreciated you reading the book aloud, I don’t see how this aids us in our search for (Y/N).”

The reason the boys had been searching across all of Liyue, was because their aforementioned friend had mysteriously gone missing. Everything had been as it normally was until one day, (Y/N) didn’t show up at her job in the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, something that was incredibly unusual of her, especially without a warning to her boss or coworkers. This led Hu Tao, with the insistence of Zhongli, to ask Chongyun and Xingqiu, two of (Y/N)’s friends, for help in the search for her. They had also contacted the milelith, but they had told them that she’d not been missing for long enough to warrant a search party. The two had, of course, been quick to help, though Xingqiu had been rather enraptured in a book of Liyue Myths, simply insisting he’d have to take it with him so he could read while he searched for her.

“But my liege,” Xingqiu exclaimed playfully, golden eyes shining with mirth, “this story is of utmost importance in our search for our beloved friend. Why, for all we know, (Y/N) might’ve been kidnapped by the Vigilant Yaksha himself! She has always had a habit of climbing mountains to pick violetgrass like the maiden in the book”

“Do not be so ridiculous,” Chongyun said, rolling his eyes, “I doubt an Adeptus such as himself would ever commit such an atrocity of that degree against a citizen of Liyue. Besides, that myth is incredibly old and there’s very little evidence that proves its validity. It’s more likely that (Y/N) was taken by a demon. That is why I asked you to accompany me to Wuwang Hill.”

“I was simply joking Chongyun,” he said with a laugh before turning solemn, “However, regretfully I feel as though it is time for the two of us to return to Liyue Harbor for the day. You’ve just about run out of popsicles and with this heat, I have no doubt you’ll overheat if we keep going.”

“I’m afraid you’re right,” The blue-eyed boy admitted. “I hope (Y/N) is alright wherever she is.”

“I do as well,” Xingqiu agreed, “Perhaps Hu Tao and Zhongli have had more luck.”

Chongyun nodded, “Xiangling also said she’d ask her customers if they’d seen her.”

With that, the two boys made their way back to Lihue Harbor, oblivious to just how true Xingqiu’s joke had been.

Xiao sighed as he climbed up the stairs of Wangshu Inn up to his room. Of course, he did not need sleep, it was a mortal need in and of itself, or a room for that matter but Verr Goldet had insisted that he should have his own space, somewhere he could rest after long days of slaughtering demons such as this one.

The Adeptus turned the door handle, opening the door of an empty, pristine room. While the room had all of the furniture the other Inn rooms had, it still felt unnervingly empty, without any clothes or trinkets laying around. The only personal object of Xiao’s in the room was an orange teapot that rested on the nightstand.

Quickly, Xiao opened the tea pot’s lid, and within seconds he was standing in front of a Liyue style mansion, surrounded by mountains that he crafted to look like the ones from when the two of you had met all those centuries ago. Eager to see you, Xiao ignored Tubby’s greetings and opened the front door, making quick work of taking off his shoes before climbing the stairs to the second floor, where your room was.

He opened the door to find you sat atop your bed, alert and glaring at him fiercely. The Adeptus rolled his amber eyes, it seemed you were still trying to act out and be defiant. Looking around your room, mostly to make sure you hadn’t tried to smash the windows with the desk chair like last time (you seemed to not comprehend the fact that there was no escaping the serenetea pot, since it was a world Xiao himself had created), his eyes settled on the plate of bamboo shoot soup he’d left for you this morning, along with a still filled to the brim cup of water. He narrowed his eyes at that. It simply wouldn’t do. You’d been here for about a week now and you still refused to eat or drink anything he brought you, except for a few nibbles and sips he’d managed to threaten coax out of you. Xiao, admittedly, didn’t know very much about humans, but he did know they needed to eat and drink to stay alive. He’d learned that the hard way on his last few tries.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Xiao inquired before adding, “If you don’t like this food you should come out and say it. I can ask Smiley Yanxiao for something that suits your taste more.”

You let out a poorly suppressed scoff. This nut-job didn’t seem to get that out of all the things wrong in this situation, the last thing you were concerned about was the food. Dear Archons, just what is wrong with this man? First, he had the gall of taking you captive one evening when you were going home from work and now he had the audacity to expect you to act like a complacent little toy and go along with this insanity?

And to think that when you’d first met him whilst accompanying the Traveler and Paimon, who had been commissioned by Director Hu Tao to gather some cor lapis for a client’s ceremony, you’d been absolutely smitten with the awkward and stoic Adeptus. Everything from his pretty black hair to his captivating bright eyes had your knees weak. So much so that you’d ignored all of the red flags, like how he’d stare at you in such an intense manner, with eyes fixated on you and only you, how he seemed to distrust Aether, a trusted friend of his, when it came to him accompanying you, or how as soon as you’d met you had the horrible sensation of being watched at all times of the day. Just thinking back to all the warning signs you’d missed made your skin crawl. Perhaps if you hadn’t been such a lovesick idiot you’d be at home right now or eating dinner with Chongyun and Xingqiu, trying out one of Xianglings crazy concoctions containing slime condensate or whopper flower nectar.

Instead, you were trapped in an artificial world, in a room that looked horrifyingly similar to your own back home.

You were snapped out of your reverie by Xiao moving closer to your bed.

“Let me go home,” you said, hating how your voice cracked at the end. You felt so pathetic, you always prided yourself on being a headstrong independent person, and here you were, cowering at his closeness and avoiding all eye contact, as if looking at his pain filled eyes would ruin you.

“You are home,” he retorted, his voice bordering on delusion, “This is your home. This is where you're safe. Where you stay alive and I get to keep you forever.”

Xiao stretched out his arm, as if to cradle your cheek in his hand but before he got to you flinched away, backing away from him as far as you could, back hitting the headboard. You looked away, trying to ignore how guilty the pain that flashed through his eyes made you feel. You shouldn’t be the one feeling guilty.  He should be. He’s the one that stole you away from your home. He’s the one that ruined your life.

You look down at the violetgrass broach clasped onto your blouse in nothing short of complete and utter loathing. You’d been so captivated by it when you’d first found it at the antique shop while window shopping with Mr. Zhongli.

It had been exactly six months since you’d moved away from your home in the sleepy Qingce Village in exchange for a job at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and a quaint apparently in the bustling city of Liyue Harbor. To celebrate, your coworker (and the person you had been shadowing in order to learn the ropes of the funeral business) Mr. Zhongli had insisted on going to Third-Round Knockout for some dinner. You’d been a bit hesitant at first, mostly because you knew well of the elegant gentleman’s habit of forgetting his wallet, but you enjoyed hearing his stories far too much to say no. Something about his retellings of stories about the Adepti just enraptured you.

Afterward, the two of you had decided to walk around the city and look at the displays in shops, since you had decided that your hard work warranted splurging a little as a reward of sorts. You had of course asked Mr. Zhongli to join you since he had such exquisite taste and an eye for the authentic, you valued his opinion greatly.

That’s how the two of you ended up at Xigu Antiques, browsing the display case. All of a sudden, your eyes zeroed in on a broach that resembles a little violetgrass plant, its downturned leaves made up of what you could only guess was noctilucous jade. It was, for lack of a better word, stunning.

“Mr. Zhongli,” you exclaimed, tugging at his sleeve to call his attention away from a porcelain teapot with gold little geo symbols as decoration, “what do you think of this one? It’s quite beautiful isn’t it?”

The dark-haired man looked at the broach you were pointing at before going tense, a small gasp escaping him as his beautiful amber eyes widened slightly. You looked at him in concern, you’d never seen the man come this close to losing his composure.

“Oh,” he said, clearing his throat, “is this the one you’re thinking of purchasing? I’d advise against it. Even by just a mere glance, I can tell it is not made of real noctilucous jade.”

Strangely, you felt as though he wasn’t being truthful with you.

“Well, that’s alright. I don’t really care about the authenticity and it’s pretty cheap. If it is a fake, I don’t really have much to lose. Plus, I’ve always loved violetgrass. This broach could be like a little homage to that!” You answered, letting out a little giggle.

“You’ve heard of the Vigilant Yaksha and the violetgrass maiden, am I correct?” He asked.

“Oh, yes I have! My Gran used to tell it to me and the rest of the village children back when I was young. It always made me so sad, how they can never be together. It was pretty silly now that I think about it, but I would bawl my eyes out every time. The rest of the kids would tease me a bit but I just couldn’t control it,” you reminisced.

“I- well, yes in any case, they say that anyone who possesses that broach will be cursed to meet the same fate,” Zhongli added, trying his best to dissuade you from buying the old broach, dread creeping into his stomach as he thought of what might happen to you- to the both of you.

“Of course you’d believe old supersticiones, Mr. Zhongli,” you said, letting out a lighthearted laugh that could make any heart, even one of stone, melt, “it’s very on brand! However, I’m sure there’s no need to be worried, after all, it’s nothing but an old myth! And even if it is real, you yourself said that it’s not made of the real stuff.”

Before Zhongli could figure a way to change the unchangeable, you had already purchased the broach. As you kept on leading the funeral consultant around the streets of Liyue Harbor, bag in hand, prattling on about anything and everything, he couldn’t help but feel his heart sink. A single thought, the same one you would later have, crossed his mind.

If only you hadn’t bought that goddamned broach.

In a fit of anger and desperation, you ripped the detested broach off of your shirt, throwing it at Xiao. You hoped it would somehow break into millions of tiny pieces.

After a beat of silence, Xiao spoke, “Eat.”

“No,” you yelled, before breaking down into a fit of angry sob, “I hate you!”

As soon as the words left your mouth, Xiao lurched forward so close your noses were almost touching, and for a second you think he’s gonna hit you but instead, he simply rests his forehead on yours and closes his eyes. When he pulls away, your sobs have waned into hiccups. Without saying so much as a word Xiao clasps the violetgrass broach onto your shirt, where it belongs.

“Eat,” is all he says, placing the now lukewarm soup into your hands.

Scared, tired, and sad, you do as he said, taking small sips of the admittedly tasty dish. He does nothing more than stare at her with those intense amber eyes of his for a few minutes before turning around and heading towards the door.

Before he leaves he turns his head back to look at her and says, “I don’t care if you don’t like me. Hate me for all I care. As long as you stay alive I don’t care.”

[raymondebidochonlifechoices]

Are you confident Bughead will be endgame on this show? That’s literally the last strand I’ve been holding onto, but the thread is weakening. I really can’t believe that they would take this ship, their absolute most popular and loved one, and just end it like this forever. I am so angry with the writing!!

Hey there, anon! It is unbelievable, isn’t it?

What a tricky question you ask! confidence + prediction + the Riverdale writers ... As Jughead would say: yikes!

The thing with these writers is that they use a lot of words without knowing their meaning. “Endgame” is one of them. “New” is another. “Exciting”. “Darkness”™. “Adult stories”. “The message”…

Dangling the bughead “endgame” carrot at the end of one or two seasons of no bughead or -worse- of b*rchie and j*bitha f.e. is not an endgame. The general definition of endgame -outside of chess- is: the last stage of a process. If the process (i.e. the season’s content) isn’t about bughead, then bughead coming together at the very end is not an endgame, it's a peripeteia i.e. a sudden or unexpected reversal of circumstances.

In shipping, endgame is a couple that will inevitably end together (for ever and ever and ever). In order for something to be inevitable, you have to create that sentiment, you have to build the couple up.

There’s an article about the misappropriation of the word “endagame” that I find particularly funny, as it starts by mentioning Riverdale!

Anyway, this is a long-winded way to say that, yes, I do believe that the show will end with bughead and varchie as their main canon couples. It’s just that, like you, I’m so very tired with these story lines. There is satisfaction to be had at the notion of endgame but a seasonful of investigative bughead would be infinitely preferable. For me (and I can only speak of myself) the journey is more important than the destination -even if for the simple reason that -in TV show time- it lasts longer!

Why do I think bughead is still … that word? Everything’s under the cut, so as not to clutter your dash!

1. A lot of people have been theorising that what happened in 5x18 was not the original plot. I agree.

Let’s start with 5x18 varchie.

Their break up came completely out of left field. Its unexpectedness is reminiscent of 4x17. I make fun of how s5 is a reboot of s1+s2’s leftover ideas, so another copy-paste shouldn’t feel out of place, and yet … really? Another repetition? To what end? If the season’s goal was not varchie, b*rchie was already there waiting at the beginning of the time jump! Why abandon that plot? In terms of romantic varchie time, that was extremely limited, since after their kiss in 5x7, Veronica’s divorce kept them apart until 5x17 … Why have Archie being extremely jealous of Chad, Veronica getting involved in all of Archie’s schemes (firefighters, bulldogs), Archie getting involved in Ronnie’s (rescuing daddykins) or Veronica telling her father she chooses Archie over him in 5x17? Also, for those who remember, there was this by the-writer-who-shall-not-be-named.

The reason of the break up is as ludicrous as Veronica moving into Archie’s childhood bedroom (with its effing slanted roof!) on the premise that long term the Andrews’ residence has more room! (By the way, I don’t know what surprised me more: that Veronica thought that Archie and uncle Frank would know who Ina Garten is or that Jughead didn’t.) Why is Veronica astounded by Archie’s involvement in the same activities he has been involved in all through the season?! For f***’s sake, she’s the one that gifted him the fire truck!

Ok. Now let’s give 5x18 j*bitha a try.

For me, 5x18 could either have gone bugheadwards or j*bithawards. J*bitha had some heartfelt talks, a hand touch, a hallucination and a kiss. Bughead had one unfinished heartfelt talk (the only one in the whole season for Betty), two shoulder touches, two hallucinations and Jughead attempting to reconnect with Betty (without specifying what his intent was, it's true).

While I do think that j*bitha is a ship that has been adequately teased, the way they were explored in 5x18 was … not underwhelming exactly (after all, they’re not my ship, so I didn’t have any expectations about them) but … maybe lukewarm is the word? They had but minimal dialogue, only enough to establish that Tabitha’s parents were in town. Then a song where Tabitha initially rejects Jughead, although she had been supportive before. Then another song, where the lyrics were heavily altered and didn’t make much sense anyway (we hadn’t been properly introduced to the Tates) but where the original lyrics were very compatible with Bughead’s history and state of being as of 5x17. The kisses were ok, I have no problem with the actors’ chemistry. But -and this is strictly a personal opinion- Jughead’s flirting scenes (not the make-out ones, you perverts!) with Cora were better and so was the j*bitha kiss in 5x10. For the 5x18 j*bitha to flow, more dialogue and more flirting was necessary (always a persona opinion). So, no, I don’t think j*bitha were supposed to sing what they sang in 5x18.

Production for s5 wrapped up one week after the official announcement of the 5 special episodes for Riverdale and The Flash: “we expect it will take us until Fall 2022 to get back to a regular schedule” was the official quote. Re-organising the cw’s overall schedule didn’t happen overnight. Yes, more likely than not, the writers knew about the specifics of s6a before shooting 5x18-5x19 and had time to re-write them.

2. The couples spoilers for s6 do not make sense plot-wise.

If the end-goal for 5x19-6x1 had been b*rchie, j*bitha and v*ggie all along, these were pairs already happening (except from v*ggie) at the beginning of the time-jump. As for v*ggie, last time we saw them, Veronica pulled a face when she heard that he had had (still has?) an affair with Hermosa. And what about Nana Rose?! (ok, that was a joke! ... or was it? 👀)

The majority of both the fans and the general audience are bugvarchie shippers. Teasing b*rchie and j*bitha as a means of maintaining the viewers’ interest in a will they/won’t they way, only works if the audience finally gets what they want. In this season. Not the next one! There is so much trolling one can take after all. In the space of 1.5 year (4x17-5x19) b*rchie will have been teased ... THREE times (and still lacking build-up)!

I cannot myself see b*rchie, j*bitha and v*ggie as endgame couples. For the audience to invest in them after 4 years of bugvarchie, the writers have to a) give j*bitha an absolutely incredible development that will surpass bughead and the cinematography to go with it (good luck with that) and b) undo Archie’s character (highly unlikely) and/or give Betty a lobotomy (at which point a lot of people will quit en masse, because Archie as The One All The Girls Want just doesn't resonate with the majority).

I have no idea if s6a is an AU or not. But if it’s not, no one will be left to watch 6b.

Can I guarantee a bughead endgame? Of course not. I have no idea how the minds of the Riverdale writers work. But I do think that Jughead and Betty getting back together is more than wishful thinking.

Fervently shipping Jughead/Betty, Jughead/his book and Betty/therapy, sincerely yours, @raymondebidochonlifechoices

I hope you have fun with the Riverdale universe regardless, dear anon. Riverdale has given us one of the most beautiful getting-together stories in s1 and lots and lots of beautiful canon bughead afterwards. Here's to many more! Much love to you!

[hawks-supremacy]

Fairytale Soulmates

summary: you gave up on the idea of soulmate's being real when your parents split up, but the cherry blossom on your wrist says otherwise.

pairings: ushijima x reader

warnings: fighting, yelling, hints at abuse, a little angst, mostly fluff

word count: 2k

a/n: i'm thinking about doing a soulmate series, i just love the idea of soulmates. i also like reading soulmate au's.

You never enjoyed the idea of soulmates, to you it was a fairytale you heard the other kids tell during lunch break. Hearing them retell the stories their parents told about how everyone has a person that was made for them. How people were originally created with four arms and legs and two heads and faces, but fearing their power Zeus split them in half. Now people spend their whole lives looking for their other half. The person that finishes the other half of your soulmate mark. You didn’t believe the stories. Even as your half of a cherry blossom stares up at you from your wrist, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe in soulmates, and why should you?

Why should you believe in soulmates when your parents were miserable together. Constantly fighting and yelling, often ending the night in tears. If soulmates were real then why were you the result of two people who didn't love each other unconditionally like soulmates were supposed to. Why were your parents so unhappy just because they weren’t soulmates? If you couldn’t find your soulmate were you destined to be unhappy? All of your questions went unanswered as your parents avoided the topic.

You weren’t always like this, and neither were your parents. You used to be happy, a complete family who never fought and loved each other despite the flaws. Sure you noticed how your father had half a sun and your mother had half of a water lily, but they didn’t seem to care and you didn’t ask. They always laughed at each other's terrible jokes and cared for one another. You used to enjoy the stories of soulmates, listening as kids tell the stories of how their parents met. The stories of soulmates searching the other side of the world to find their other half.

Then one day your parents started fighting and the illusion of happiness ended. You weren’t sure what happened, but one day you came home from school and they were yelling. Maybe they’ve always yelled and screamed until their faces turned blue and they faked being happy for your sake. All it took was one day for all you believed in to fall apart.

You came home early from school on a half day, you were excited to go home and spend all day with your parents. You didn’t stay excited for long, walking through the doors you heard screaming coming from the kitchen along with glass shattering. Hesitantly you made your way to the entrance and poked your head around the corner to see what was happening. Seeing you home your mom wiped the tears from her eyes and greeted you as your dad walked past you and to their shared bedroom.

After that it seemed like the veil fell, the thin sheet protecting you from the real relationship your parents held disappeared. They stopped pretending to be happy, no longer laughing at dumb jokes instead rolling their eyes. You stopped eating dinner as a family, your dad eating before he comes home and walking straight to his home office. They tried not to fight in front of you, waiting until you go to bed to start their dispute, but they were never quiet. They kept you up at night with the shouting that reached your bedroom door, knocking like a reminder your family is no longer really together.

You sat at the top of the stairs listening as your dad left your mom because he found his soulmate. Listening to the rolling of his suitcase across the wooden floor as he walked out the door. Listening as your mom broke down sobbing as the door slammed shut. Listening to his car driving off as silent tears rolled down your face choking back sobs that you couldn’t let out. You never brought it up to your mom, a silent agreement the next day as you both had puffy faces from crying the previous night.

Now you were starting your first year at Shiratorizawa and your best friend Tendō refused to let you be pessimistic. He dragged you to the gym to sign up for the volleyball team manager. His logic being you can’t be pessimistic if he doesn’t let you, and if you’re constantly around Tendō it's the less time you can be a “debbie downer” in his words.

Tendō and you became friends in middle school when you ran into each other turning the corner. He quickly befriended you after learning about your pessimistic view on life claiming he was gonna turn it around so you’d be happy again. You rolled your eyes at his explanation for wanting to be your friend but let him anyway. Since then you’ve been inseparable, always with one another. Tendō was the best thing that could’ve happened to you.

So here you were meeting the volleyball team as Tendō all but skipped to the gym for the first practice. “This is gonna be so fun Y/n, we’ll get to hang out all the time. Now you’ll have no opportunity to go back to your dorm room and think about how much life sucks. Which it doesn’t by the way.” He said as you went to say something about him finally agreeing about your life sucking. “I know you’ve had some hard times but believe me, it’s not always gonna be that way. You’ll meet your soulmate and learn that happiness does exist for you.”

You shook your head at his blind optimism, you knew he wasn’t always like this. That he had his dark moments too and you were right there to pull him out of his dark space like he was you. “‘Tori, we both know I’m better now. I’m not 100% all the time but that’s fine. I appreciate you doing this though.”

He nodded, slowing his pace down so you could catch up to him. “I know you are, but you’re still on the fence about soulmates and I’m determined to help you find yours so you know they’re out there.” You sighed as you walked into the gym having been through this conversation hundreds of times with Tendō before. He’d keep having this conversation with you until you realize it yourself. Just because your parents didn’t work out doesn’t mean that soulmates aren’t worth it.

Tendō soon realized after that maybe you were right. Maybe your soulmate wasn’t worth it, maybe you would be better off just living with Tendō forever like you discussed in middle school. Maybe you were right because Tendō soon found out that your soulmate was Ushijima Wakatoshi. Tendō wasn’t sure if you noticed that Ushijima held the other half to your soulmate mark or not. If you had, you didn’t say anything.

Tendō spent the better half of middle school trying to convince you that your soulmate would be the best thing that happened to you. Then he spent the better half of first and second year listening to Ushijima say he didn’t believe in soulmates either, that his home situation was much like yours. His parents weren’t soulmates and ended up getting a divorce leaving him with his mom. He realized the universe was playing a cruel joke on the both of you. Making you both believe that the other doesn’t exist and if you do it’s some kind of fluke.

It was the start of your third year and you were moving back into the dorms after having a break for the summer. “‘Tori, why are you insisting I hang out with Ushijima so badly? He’s been your roommate for two years now and suddenly you want me to hang out with him? It doesn’t make sense.” Tendō had been trying to convince you to hang out with Ushijima because he couldn’t take not telling you anymore. It was eating him alive that your soulmate was right there and nothing was happening. It was your last year before you possibly never saw Ushijima again and Tendō would never be able to live with himself if he didn’t tell you. “I wanted to tell you, believe me I did.”

“Satori, what did you do?” You said, narrowing your eyes at him. “Ushiwaka is your soulmate. I was going to tell you but it turns out you have the same outlook on soulmates. So I thought maybe it was best if you guys never met, but I’d feel bad if I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry I just didn’t want you to get hurt.” Tendō said, speaking fast and pacing back and forth.

You sat on your bed rubbing your temples. “Are you mad at me?” Tendō asked quietly. You sighed and looked up, resting your elbows on your knees, “No ‘Tori, I Could never be mad at you. I wish you told me sooner, but I’m not mad at you. I’ll hang out with Ushijima but there’s no guarantee that it’ll work out, especially not if you say he has the same outlook as me.” You talked for a few more minutes before Tendō led you to his shared dorm with Ushijima.

Tendō walked in, “Ushiwaka! I have a gift for you!” He said before gesturing widely towards the door as you walked in. “My surprise is Y/n?” Ushijima said, confused. “Yes! Y/n here is your soulmate! Your other half! Now talk!” Tendō said excitedly before walking out and shutting the door behind him, leaving you two alone.

You glanced down at Ushijima’s wrist and saw the matching half to your cherry blossom match. You showed him yours as you sat down on the chair by his and Tendō’s shared desk, “‘Tori tells me that you have the same views as me when it comes to the whole soulmate situation. Don’t particularly believe in them, but ‘Tori’s been trying to convince me otherwise for about four years. I guess I don’t really know where you stand with all of this.” By the time you were done speaking you noticed that his eyes never once stopped looking at you.

“My parents divorced, yes, but they weren’t soulmates. Perhaps it’ll be different with us since we’re actually soulmates.” He said moving closer towards you. “You want to try the soulmate thing? You’re sure?” You asked sheepishly. You spent nearly your whole life swearing up and down that you didn’t believe in soulmates and now that you’ve found yours, you don’t know if you still believe that. “Yes I want to try, but I do get busy with volleyball so I might not have much time for us.” He said and you nodded. You knew that, you’ve been friends with Tendō long enough to know volleyball takes up a lot of time. You’ve also been the volleyball’s team manager long enough to know how passionate Ushijima is about volleyball. You knew you couldn’t ask him to put you first.

“And that’s how I single handedly got Ushiwaka and Y/n together. So you can thank me for this lovely wedding we’re all attending.” Tendō said after telling the story of how you and Toshi met. You rolled your eyes and you jokingly mouthed ‘thank you’ to Tendō. You turned to your now husband who had his hand on your knee while he was laughing at Tendō’s story and smiled. He turned his head and smiled back before giving you a peck on the lips, “I’m glad I met you Y/n.” He said lovingly. “Me too Toshi, me too.”

[heliads]

How to Move On

Based on this request: “A ghost!Luke Patterson x alive!reader but she is older. Like in the 90s they were but then he died and she got older. An angst story please :)”

masterlist

When he was alive, Luke Patterson lived five houses down from one of the cutest girls he’d ever seen. It still surprises him that he has to tack on that first part to describe anything that happened in his life before, like if he shuts his eyes hard enough he’ll find himself back in the 90s, when he had a pulse and a heartbeat and people could see him if he walked out onto the street.

However, an unseen blade cuts a little too deep whenever he thinks about his current situation, so Luke allows himself to fall deeper into the memory instead of returning back to reality. She’d lived five houses down, right? Or was it four? Luke has hardly been brought back as a ghost for a few weeks before he’s started losing his grasp on the details that bound his life. They’re all slipping through his fingertips, gone now in recollection as well as his ability to return to them in person.

Yes, five houses down- he’s certain of it now. Whenever he wanted to sneak out of his house to go visit her, Luke had to climb out of his window and weave through two backyards before he could risk returning to the sidewalk for another three houses. Five houses down, that’s right. Luke curses himself mentally, not wanting to forget another detail. He’s already lost the girl, he doesn’t want to lose the few figments of her in his memory. A ghost of her for the ghost he already is.

If he managed to sneak out of his house and make it down five houses, as he so often did, Luke could then toss small pebbles at one moonlit window. It usually only took two or three of these interactions before the window would be hurriedly unlatched, a beaming face peering out at him. Luke would allow himself a second of staring, admiring the way the moonlight cast the girl in a bone-white halo, then haul himself up into the room.

From the second his feet touched down on the bedroom floor, Luke would be in safe territory. He still took precautions, of course, keeping his voice down and his movements quiet. However, Y/N L/N always seemed to have a secret oasis in the form of her room, and he was never once caught. They both made sure of it, and if he and Y/N worked together, they could achieve any goal so long as it was worth it.

Y/N L/N. She was the one he’d left behind, one of the aches that hurt the most. He’d been lucky enough to win her love, either through some complete misunderstanding or maybe the fact that he’d finally done something right in his life, but he had her nonetheless. Or, he’d had her until the day he’d died, leaving behind nothing in his wake but grieving parents and the girl he’d sworn to stay with for the rest of his life. Well, his promise had come true in one sense, although Luke can’t help but wish there was another way around it.

To be completely honest, even as Luke dreads forgetting any detail of his past girl, he might fear thinking about her even more. It’s not that he wants to lose the picture of her smile in his head, or the way she’d reach for him when she was cold, it’s just that to think of her in any sense is like a knife stabbing him through the ribs, reminding him that he’ll never get her back. If he tries to push her from his mind, he won’t remember the way she’ll never be with him again. Isn’t that better?

Luke already knows the answer: no, not at all. Even this one slip in his memory, the faltering knowledge of how far apart their houses were, sends a jolt of worry spiking through him. Luke wouldn’t consider himself forgetful, maybe just a little absentminded, but the fact that he’s already starting to forget his past life worries him. However, to keep Y/N’s picture cherished in his mind means reminding himself of everything that he’d lost, of finally confronting all the memories he’s been holding back for so long.

Eventually, Luke finds himself in the studio, searching through the boxes and crates of stuff that had eventually made its way into dusty corners and spiderwebbed cracks of the room. Julie’s mom had been kind enough to keep at least some of Sunset Curve’s possessions, and so Luke ransacks these sparse belongings now. At last, his hand emerges triumphant, carrying with it an old photo album. It’s thin, spine scarcely thicker than a small paperback, but for the way he looks at it its pages could be lined with gold.

Luke pauses a second, steeling himself before flipping open the front cover. Instantly, he’s hit with a wave of memories. These first few photos had been taken a year or so before he died, when he had first started dating Y/N and everything seemed like he was living a dream. There are Polaroids from their first few dates, snapshots of festivals and boardwalks and everything a couple of teenagers could afford when they were young and stupidly in love.

Luke studies these, then the next couple of pages, and then the next. He must have been more distracted than he’d first thought, because he doesn’t notice Julie Molina enter the studio until she’s practically standing on top of him. Julie clears his throat, and he startles, doing his best to quickly close the album. For some reason, it doesn’t feel quite right to so openly share his memories of Y/N to anyone within eyesight.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there. Are we practicing?” Luke asks. Julie laughs, her smile a tad incredulous. “Not yet, but I’m a little worried as to why you were so quick to hide that book. What, are you trying to keep secrets from me?” Her eyes assure him that this question is purely an excuse to tease him, but Luke can’t find it within himself to smile back. Instead, he sits back down on the floor of the studio, gesturing listlessly to the empty space next to him.

“Not entirely. It’s just- well, I found this old photo album, and it’s kind of hard to not regret leaving everything behind. The current day is good, don’t get me wrong, and I love the band, but-” Julie picks up on his train of thought even as Luke’s voice trails off. “It’s not what you’re used to, and you feel bad about everything you could have had. I get it. I’m surprised you’ve adjusted so well, to be honest. It can’t be easy to leave your entire life behind.”

Luke lets out a quiet sigh. “Exactly.” After a moment’s consideration, he picks up the photo album again, opening the cover and passing it to Julie. She accepts it, glancing at him one last time to make sure he’s alright with baring his soul to her. A soft smile traces its way onto her face as she sees the photos of him and Y/N, grins so bright they could practically light up the world. “Who is this?”

Her finger lingers over a photo Luke had taken of Y/N. She had been wearing a Sunset Curve shirt, one of their first attempts at a logo. They’d long since changed the design, but she had said something about how her boys were so official and taken the first draft t-shirt nonetheless. Y/N had worn it to many shows since then, until the design faded into nothingness and she’d been forced to get a new one. Luke’s voice softens. “That’s Y/N. She is- she was my girlfriend. Back in the 90s, at least.”

Luke hates the way he has to say that, like she’s died instead of him. She was his girlfriend, they had known each other, they are each utterly different now and there is no getting back what they’d once had. Julie glances over at him, sympathy radiating from her gaze, but then she turns back to the photo, frowning over it in something that almost looks like recognition. “Wait, you said her name was Y/N? Like Y/N L/N?”

Luke sits bolt upright, melancholy thoughts completely forgotten. “Yes! How did you know that? Do you know her?” Julie’s excitement starts to bleed away from her, as if she knows something that ruins the dream she had been so thrilled to share. “Well, yes, but she’s not Y/N L/N anymore. She has a different last name now.” Luke picks up on what Julie is unwilling to say, and his stomach sinks a little. She has a different last name because she’s married, because she’s moved on.

Even as he thinks this, Luke feels annoyed at himself. Of course she’s moved on- he died 25 years ago. There’s no reason she would never love again, and even if she did, Luke would never want that for her. She was so bright, so happy, that the thought of herself locked away in mournful grief like his parents seems so utterly wrong that if that happened she might as well have died with him. Still, Luke doesn’t like thinking that there’s someone else out there receiving her smiles, hearing her hopes and dreams late at night the way he had once listened to her.

Luke must have gone silent for too long, because Julie is looking over at him again, pity written in every line of her face. She thinks for a second longer, then stands up, holding out her hand to him. “She still lives near here, actually. A few streets down. Do you want to go see her?” Luke stares at her, then rushes to his feet. “You mean it? You know where she is?” Julie nods. “Only if you’re willing to see her.” She’s right to worry- seeing Y/N again will mean finally coming to terms with everything Luke had left behind when he’d died, a final piece of proof that Y/N will never be his again. Still, if he hides away from her again, Luke will spend the rest of his ghosthood wondering what she might have been like and who she may have become. So, he nods, and allows Julie to lead him from the studio and down the blocks to Y/N’s house.

Even without Julie’s directions, Luke would know their destination even before she points out Y/N’s front door. He sees her in every corner of the building, every flower and tree planted in the yard. She’d always wanted a brightly painted front door, tall trees in the backyard so she could have a little shade on the summer days. They’d once planned what their future houses would look like, always choosing one for the two of them. If Luke sees traces of his ideas in her house now, does that mean Y/N still thinks of him? Or that she’s already forgotten that it was his voice suggesting those changes and not her own, that he’s already faded into the last few corners of her memory?

His feet stall in the driveway, but at an encouraging look from Julie, Luke forces himself to walk up the final few feet to stop in front of the front door. He reaches forward and rings the doorbell himself, although he can do no more once the door swings open. This will be Julie’s part- Luke can do no more than watch the woman in front of him with wide eyes.

She still looks like her. Is that a strange thing to say? She’s taller now, her face more lined and weary as if she’s had a lifetime of problems to deal with ever since Luke left her days. It makes sense that she looks older- the last time Luke saw her was 25 years ago, so she’s probably in her forties now. Still, there are traces of the girl he’d known in every movement, every step. When she looks questioningly at Julie, Luke can see the way she’d looked at him to ask when and where Sunset Curve would be performing so she could make sure to arrive on time. The gesture is so truthfully her that it practically hurts to see.

Julie’s eyes dart to Luke, as if trying to gauge his reaction, then she focuses her gaze firmly on Y/N. “I, uh, was cleaning out my mom’s old studio. I found something from the band who used to practice there- they went by the name of Sunset Curve? Your name was on one of the photos.” It’s a duplicate photo strip from a photo booth on a long-since demolished boardwalk, an excuse for the visit. Still, it’s enough to make Y/N’s eyes widen, and she looks at Julie as if she’s punched a hole right through her chest.

She gestures for Julie to follow her inside. Luke drifts in after them, staring at the photos lining the walls, the backpacks flung in a corner of the room. So she has children, a family. How long had it taken her to move on from him? She smiles in every family portrait he sees, but did she ever think about the boy she’d left behind? Would it matter that much to him if she did?

Julie hands Y/N the photo strip now, and tears glisten in the woman’s eyes as she looks at herself and Luke, decades younger and what feels like centuries happier. Julie, thank everything, is unwilling to let Y/N leave without asking her about the boy she’d left behind. “Did you know him well? The boy in the photos?” Y/N glances up sharply at Julie, startling as if she’d forgotten there was a girl in front of her, too drowned in the memories of the past to remember reality. It’s a familiar feeling to Luke, and it stings to see it on this older Y/N too.

“Yes, I did. Very well, in fact. I loved him with all of my heart until he died along with his bandmates.” She laughs quietly, the sound broken through with utter misery. It twists Luke’s heart like a blade. “I almost didn’t make it through the funeral. I was sitting next to his parents, and we were sobbing like we’d never smile again. He was everything to me, and I had no idea what to do when he was gone. I wish you could have met him- he was always so quick to a smile or a laugh. I never told him how much I liked his smile. I wish I had.”

Luke stumbles as if he’s been punched. Tears are pricking at his eyes, and he swipes at them angrily with his shirt sleeve. Why should he have to cry now, mourn everything he’d lost? Hasn’t he been through enough? Y/N swallows harshly. “It’s easy to get lost in the past. I graduated high school without him, went to college without him. I didn’t think I’d ever have to live a day without him, and suddenly I had an entire future completely empty of anyone like him. There are days when I almost think I see him in a crowd, and days when it gets easier. In the end, I think he’d want me to move forward, even as hard as that may be.”

Julie glances over at Luke once more, scarcely a second away from tears herself. “Yeah, I think he’d want you to be happy. That above all else.” Y/N sighs, the sound cutting through Luke and almost sending him to the floor. “Thank you for the photos, Julie. You take care of yourself.” Julie smiles. “I will. Thank you too.” Luke, sensing the imminent goodbye, takes one last furtive glance around the house. What if he had been there, present in every family photo and every line in her journals? He wishes nothing more than to have that option, to be able to go back, but he can’t.

So, he allows himself to follow Julie back out into the sunshine of the afternoon, and when the door closes softly behind him, he doesn’t look back. Julie is silent on the walk back, as is he. Luke heads for the studio, and he stops before the photo album before glancing up at the walls around him. If he tries hard enough, Luke thinks he can see her in every corner of the studio. There she is on the couch, laughing as she pretends to smack him with a pillow. There she is next to him on the piano, listening to his latest song. There are hundreds of her in the studio, hundreds of memories. That’s all he has left of her. Just memories and nothing more.

Julie returns to find him later, and it doesn’t take long for her eyes to cut across the room, landing on the photo newly pinned to the wall. There are two figures in it, a boy and a girl grinning madly as they reach for each other in a dusky night. Both of them are long gone now, dead and aged even as their photo-selves smile on. If Luke looks back at the photo now, keeping that image burned into his mind, he never speaks of it again.

requested by @charliegillespiewife​

jatp tag list: someone who i would not leave behind if i died in the 90s @underc0vercryptid​

[sunshineandcybertronians]

Make Your Choice - Megatron x reader x Starscream (TFP)

Word count: 2,621 Warnings: angst, conflicting feelings, major character death A/n:  Finished this in one day 9/21/19 at 11:01 PM (holy heck, that was a long time ago). I read pages 140-144 in Transformers Exodus. I never thought I’d write something that’s even slightly Megatron x reader, but here I am. But this oneshot turned out good.

"Where is he?" You searched the dark corridor of Nemesis for a friend.

As a Decepticon you served under Megatron, and Starscream at times. You were lucky enough to be close to both of them. Although Decepticons would never admit to having friends, you called them this secretly.

You were kind to everyone, even those you didn't know. It hurt you to think of anyone in pain. The majority of the Decepticons knew this, and it was miraculously pardoned thus you were given tasks that required no violence. Perhaps it was your soft words and consideration that made this so, finding a soft spot in the seemingly merciless Megatron. Starscream also respected this when he was in control for about three years.

It was very possible someone would question why you were a Decepticon with your nature being closer to an Autobot. This had occurred to you before, but you hoped to change the Decepticons. If everyone who was good left the Decepticons, there would be no chance of changing it to good in the future. Plus, most of your friends were on that side.

You looked through a doorway, he wasn't there either. "Where are you, Starscream?" You whispered to yourself. Well, you said friend earlier, but recently your feelings for him were becoming a little... different.

Since you finished some work sooner than you presumed, you now had free time that you intended to spend it with Starscream. Upon coming to a T in the halls, you paused to think of a plan. Snapping your fingers, you rushed in the direction of the medbay, to not waste another second of your time. Maybe Knockout knew where he was. Out of everyone he was the second closest to the second in command. While jogging, you remembered when you first started to develop feely for him.

Despite the fact you were kind-sparked, this didn't mean that you were not immune to frustration. At the point of time Megatron had just left on his journey through space, Starscream attacked a vehicon because he was dissatisfied with their lack of progress. For no good reason, out of anger.

"Hey!" You had barked at him, startling both him and the vehicons. "Don't do that. They did nothing to you."

He examined you with his red optics. A snarl and an un-amused expression decorated his faceplate as his tilted his helm back. Releasing the vehicon whilst shoving him away, he shifted his attention to you. He approached you, in attempt to intimidate you.

Your held your ground.

"And I believe you should be reminded of your place. You are a subordinate, who doesn't even have the fuel tank to draw energon. You don't tell me what to do."

"No! You listen!" When his servos flinched, you stepped forward to grab them to prevent him from attacking you. You shoved your faceplate near his, with barely any space apart. "They're on the same side as you. Don't hurt people for no reason. It's not nice." After your anger faded, you realized how close your face was. Energon rushed through you.

He smirked, which didn't help your flustered look. "Are you blushing, little femme?"

"No!" You stepped away.

You thought a little more and decided you wanted to clear something up before you left. "But you are a good leader. You just need to avoid letting your anger get the best of you. If you make emotional decisions, you might mess up your chance to succeed, like I know you can."

Shock filled his expression, his optics widening and eyebrows lifting at the thought you actually believed in him. He quickly regained his senses. "You mean like you did just now?" He showed teeth while displaying the irony.

You pursed your lips and averted your gaze to the ground. "Yes. Just like that," you mumbled.

And strangely enough, after that you had become very good friends with him and would have many conversations with him. Knockout would occasionally tease you for it.

Another example was before leaving Cybertron, when Megatron first learned of Dark Energon (unbeknownst to you and Megatron at the time, Starscream already knew of it long before and was attempting to learn more). He privately admitted to you, something you found shocking at the time, that he knew it was unwise to use the Dark Energon due to its unknown and most likely dangerous properties. Yet he felt it necessary to end the war. He, the gladiator, was tired of fighting. It nearly melted your spark and made you want to hug him in order to make him feel better. Then he said that maybe he would finally defeat the "treacherous Optimus Prime," which then caused you to want to call him an idiot since you knew Optimus never betrayed Megatron.

You had mixed emotions like that. If you wanted someone to be the best version of themselves and to be their friend, their flaws and evil mistakes made you upset for that same reason. This mostly fell under your emotions about Megatron or Starscream.

Your thoughts were put to an end when you reached your destination. Without missing a beat, you opened the door and marched right in.

"(Y/n)! Did you need repairs?" Knockout picked up one of the tools he was organizing.

"Hey, Knockout! No. I was wondering if you knew where Starscream was," you explained.

He chuckled, his finish reflecting what little light there was in the room. "Of course you came here to ask where your boyfriend was."

You stiffened. "He's not my boyfriend, we're just friends."

"You could've fooled me." The mech lifted his optic ridge, clearly not convinced.

"Do you know where he is?" You cut to the point again, wanting to leave the awkward conversation.

"I may," he answered wistfully, "but you may have to give me some more buffing solution as payment."

"But I just gave you some yesterday. In fact, I think you almost always get it from me, and I never ask for anything in return. By the time I get you more I'll have to go back to work."

"Just joking. He's heading to the energon supplies to check inventory." Knockout didn't even give you a glance as he picked up a buffer in the corner and spun the correct pad onto it. "Make sure you remember to propose to him."

"Knockout," you drew out his name in annoyance, almost out the door.

"Just kidding."

You rolled your eyes, mentally forgave him, and bolted to the direction of the energon stock. The clanging of your pedes hitting the floor slowed and came to a halt when the entrance was just on your right.

"Starscream?" You stuck your helm in and searched. Finally, your optics locked onto the thin seeker, with sharp features and expressive wings. He looked to you with surprise, his long digit hovering over the control panel that contained information on how much energon there was, how much was used in the previous month, and the chart of how much energon was found compared to other points throughout time on Earth.

"(Y/n)? Aren't you supposed to be organizing files right now?" He inquired.

"I was done early." You hopped into the room as the door slid closed behind you. It was now dark, except for the illumination from the energon. The way it dimly shown on him and cast shadows on the edges of his figure made him look even more attractive. You shifted and swatted away the thoughts in your head.

"So, what are you up to?"

"Nothing much," he groaned, waving his servo. "I was simply accessing the inventory to find if we had enough and needed to lower rations."

"Hmm. From what I read in reports, it's getting harder to find energon, but we found a good stock recently."

"Yes. I saw that on the chart." He nodded to the glowing screen.

Before you could stop yourself, you began admiring his wings. Then your gaze shifted to a part that wasn't quite as smooth as the rest.

"What's that scratch on your wing?" You exclaimed when you finally noticed it.

He bit his lip, looked to it, and shrugged. "I flew too low and my wing got clipped by a tree."

Studying the scrapes, you delicately traced your fingers on it. He winced in pain and reached to shove it away, but stopped when you flinched away on your own after seeing his reaction.

Letting, your servo fall softly onto the undamaged surface. His wings relaxed in please and a smile crept onto his face. You gently rubbed the spot below it and held his jaw with your other servo. He seemed to melt at your touch and closed his optics. His arms snaked their way around your waist.

His optics flickered open again and stared at you with an emotion you had never seen present in them before... love. Without thinking or even considering the consequences of it, you began to close the distance between your lips and his. However you were cut off when light filled the room coming from the door.

You both turned your heads to see who it was. The expectation was that it was just a vehicon, however it was anyone but a simple minion. It was Megatron himself.

You both stepped back. What was he doing there? He was probably either looking for you or Starscream. You passed some vehicons on the way, so he could have definitely inquired where you were from them, if you were indeed the one he was seeking to find.

When he noticed you and Starscream together, and not just that, but that you were having... erm, a moment, his face twisted from a hurt shocked to anger.

"What have we here?" He marched in, servos behind his back. The door closed, blocking the light once more. You weren't exactly sure why he was so furious, he had never been that mad at you before.

"Well," Starscream stumbled on his words and shrunk back. "You see-"

"Trying to steal yet another thing from me!" He exploded at the seeker. He took the second in command's neck in his hand and held him in the air.

"Megatron! What are you doing?!" It made no sense, why he was just suddenly deciding to kill Starscream. Had he tried to kill him recently? What did he mean 'steal'?

"What are you... Talking... About?" Starscream gasped with his legs dangling.

"(Y/n)," he turned to you. You flinched back, yet noticed how his voice was softer. "Be my sparkmate."

This thoroughly confused you and sent a chill through your frame. "What?! No."

A mix of despair, anger, and desperation showed on his faceplate.

Deciding to elaborate you started carefully, "Why? I thought we were just friends. I thought of us as just friends." You had nothing against him. You cared about him, but never thought of it in a different way. Perhaps you could have explained more, although in your baffled state, you couldn't get out much.

"Those years in space," the leader of the Decepticons began, "it was so lonely I once thought I would lose my mind. The only two things that kept me going and what made me able to live after every near-death experience are my desire to extinguish Optimus and to be with you. You somehow make everything better and chase away darkness and solitude." A blade launched from above his hand and he aimed it for the dangling Cybertronian in his hand. "I want you to always be by my side. Be my sparkmate, or Starscream dies."

You couldn't believe it, well, maybe you could considering how violent he was and how many other times he came close to killing Starscream. The Decepticon leader had even expressed fear you'd leave him for someone else before. Yet, you had assumed that it was platonic and never guessed this would happen.

"Please," you pleaded, "Don't terminate him. I know you have kindness in your spark, and it is not weakness, it is a virtue. Please. Starscream has always been useful to you. For me?" You held your servos together, your sad optics sparkled.

This seemed to make him consider, as he started to reflect your sadness then shook it away. Replaced with anger of how greatly you cared for his second in command that seemed to undermine everything he did. "No. Only if you become my sparkmate."

The seeker decided to take matters into his own servos and aimed the red missile on his arm while distracted. Megatron noticed and tore it and the other off and let then drop to the floor with Starscream wailing in pain.

You shook your head in horror, still in disbelief of what was happening. "Why are you doi-"

"I CAN'T LOSE YOU TO STARSCREAM!" He raised the sword. "And now he won't keep you from me anymore!"

"NO!" You screamed. Panic surged through you. This couldn't happen, you couldn't lose Starscream. You just couldn't. You didn't want him to die. If he were to die, you would never see or talk to him again, and it was something you could never afford.

Without thinking, you lunged forward and converted your servo to a blade. Only focusing on saving Starscream, you slashed at the one threatening his well-being.

Then time slowed. Your optics widened. You stumbled back with energon stained on the sharp edge. Megatron opened his mouth, yet nothing came out as his grip loosened and he fell to the ground. His helm nearly falling off of his body, with almost all severed off. Your mouth hung open watching the glowing blue liquid puddle onto the floor, seeming to form a lake. He gave the saddest look you've ever seen, making you want to scream as he seemed to stare right into your spark, before his scarlet optics flickered and the life faded from them.

Then the gravity of what you did. You stared at the blade, then your dead friend.

"NO! What am I doing? Why did I want to hurt you?!" You screamed. Switching back to your hand, feeling the energon drip into your parts, as you ran forward and held Megatron. You answered your own questioned, "It was to save Starscream, but why did you make me do that?! I didn't wanna hurt you. I'm supposed to be a friend, be nice. I just wanna... wanted to be your friend." You changed the word since Megatron was now no more. You wrapped your armed around him in a hug. Overcome by grief. Then anger resurfaced.

"Stupid head! Why do you have to be like this? Why do you have to be an evil overlord? I wanted to be friends. I care about you!" Then you sank back into sadness.

With a sigh, you attempt to pull yourself together. He was set to the side and you stood up, energon dripping off of you.

This whole time, Starscream, who had crawled away when he was first released, watched you. He really had no idea what to do or how to help you. All he knew was that you probably needed to be left alone at that moment, thus he stood there. Although he was flattered that you, as a pacifist, would kill to save him, he hated that you were unhappy. He waited until a few nanoklicks after you stood in silence.

"All hail Starscream?" He hesitantly questioned, his wings giving a shrug. He clearly didn't want to bother you in such an emotional state, although still desired to know if he'd be leading the Decepticons.

With a small smile creeping to your lips, you nodded while trying to move on from what happened. "Yes. All hail Starscream."