#love re-reading my end notes for this one lol

[frogandbird]

Ch 21 - Bug Busters (Re-write) - Ch 23

“English” *Common*

Violet stood in the middle of the big red and gold room, severely regretting their life choices.

Oreo was sliding round on the once nice wooden floors, giggling as the honey they had dripped all over themselves helped her slide. They were loudly singing to a random song as he grabbed at bugs, having only managed to get four of the glowing mosquitoes.

The suit Violet had made for the energetic turtle was still on thankfully, its backpack glowing with a single dead mosquito in it. The other three he held were in her hands, getting the green mutagen everywhere from the dead one and the other two creepily big bugs trying to get away.

Sky was sitting on an overturned couch, perched on it as he gave a newly mutated pomeranian and their also new mutated human a few pats on the back. He looked woefully unprepared for his situation, his own blue suit covered in green goop and some white and tan fur from the dog people.

SKy looked over at them, mothing something that Violet couldn’t see, blocked by his mask tails that were still stuck in his visor. Violet turned away, looking round the room.

Once a very nice and regal looking lobby, one painted in reds, golds, and dark wood was now infested with green bugs, most congregating around some kind of waterfall on the far wall.

The bugs had been here for days, most if not all of the guests had been told to stay in their rooms. Because of course their job had to be made harder by the outbreak being in a hotel. One of the richest and fancy ones in New York no less.

Some guest had made it out of the bug infested lobby, only to be bitten on the street, making a whole scene. Violet had yet to see the full videos of the mutation, but just the aftermath photos sent chills down their shell. It had put production on the tank on hold, instead being asked to make suits to prevent bites so all four of them could go get the damn bugs.

They sighed as Oreo bumped into them, a grin on the box turtle's face. Their orange visor ahd footed up slightly, but was rapidly going away as Oroe managed to sit still for a few moments.

The stickiness from Oroes suit dripped onto VIolets, making htem currle up their snout. Oroe was already off, yelling somethign about an employee.

Violet looked around, spotting the human as Oroe slammed into the counter of the check in. The human was behind said counter, red uniform making them out to be an employee.

Violet growled. One more thing to deal with. One more thing to keep track of.

The human screamed, running away from Oreo. The box looked at Violet, visor and distance not hiding the heartbreak on the younger’s face. Violet walked over, patting him on the shoulder.

“Humans are rude, aren’t they.”

Oreo sniffled slightly, a small grin retuning. *Not all, Aps is nice.”

“Scoof!” Violet placed one hand on their chest, right over their emblem, “Our dearest sister is left out of the human category, you see she is one of us at heart.”

Oreo let out a proper laugh, attempting, and failing, at hiding their face with their hands. Violet hummed, making the corners of their mouth twitch up in a smile. Oreo sprung up, sliding around vIolet before dashing off to help Sky with his predicament.

Violet looked around, hissing as he caught sight of the human. They had run right for the waterfall, looking back at Oreo as they did so.

Onix, who had been unseen to Violet became she was standing stock still grabbed the human and shoved him away, her green and unsuited hand tearing the red fabric of their clothing.

Violet ran over, still hissing as the human scrambled to stand, one of the many rich decorations crashing to the floor next to them. The human grabbed it, it was one of a pair of buffalo horns, and pointed it at Onix.

Onix for the record, had forgone the top half of her suit, a net tucked under one hand as she held a basket of something that was far too green for Violet's liking.

The red metal on Onixs lower suit was wet with water, green blobs stuck to it. Her free hand was retracting from the shove, still held up as she was looking at her hand. She glanced at the human, eyeridge raising.

Violet tapped her arm, getting her attention. Onix looked down at them, head tilting as she put her arm down.

“First, what is the green thing, second, why did you take your suit off?” Violet nodded to the green blobs, then at the lack of her top.

Onix shrugged. She nodded to the human, then making a motion at her throat. Violet scrunched up their eyes, questioning their older sister's antics.

Onix returned to what she was going, which was digging the green blobs out of the water. Violet blinked, realization hitting them like a truck. eggs.

Violet glanced at the disregarded suit pile, which had been tossed to one side next to a fancy looking sculpture. They glanced again at Onix, who didn’t even seem to notice the bugs that were landing and crawling all over her.

Violet turned back to the human, going stiff at the sight of a green bug landing on them. The human screamed, slapping at the bug on their arm right as it made a dive to bite them. They dropped the horn as the mutation began.

A big hand grabbed them, Onixs hand covering their visor and by extension their eyes. She shouted something at Sky and Oreo, but Violet couldn’t make it out as they fought to pry Onixs hand off of their face.

The humans' screams were destroying, becoming deeper and more gurttal. Fabric could be heard tearing, the dark ripping echoing almost as deep into their brain as the screaming.

“Oni- I can-'' Violet hissed as they managed to get a finger off the visor, just for it to snap back into place.

*No.* Onix growled. Violet could feel her body shift, VIolet themselves being forced to face away from the screaming. *No, just, no*

Violet was let go as the screaming stopped, their ears still ringing. Onix moved away, her massive body lumbering towards the new mutant.

Violet turned to see her crouch next to the now mutant buffalo. The person tried to hit her, but the arms were too weak to even puch her an inch. She tried to help them sit, but the mutant screamed again.

Violet stepped back, rubbing at their arms as SKy and Oreo ran over.

*You ok?* Sky offered an hug.

Violet stepped into it, hissing. *that- It sounded-*

*Yeah, fucking horrendous. Me an‘ Oj could hear it.* Sky held them closer.

Oreo joined the hug. *It’s ok Vivi! I think.*

Something sounded, a ding coming from nearby. The three separated, Sky reaching for a sword that he didn't have, and Oreo clicking a curse. Violet grabbed their collapsible bō.

Onix was in front of them suddenly, her dark scales spattered with green mutagen.

“I always wondered how that happened.” A higher pitch voice spoke, one that sounded like how delicate flowers looked.

Violet glanced around Onixs arm, spotting the new human. They had on a purple dress and silver green fur, sticking out like a sore thumb. Violet hissed.

The human spotted them, lifting one hand to her face in order to pretend to hide a giggle. “You turtle boos have made quite a mess haven’t you?”

Onix growled, the spikes on her shell and face lifting up. Violet and Oreo both stepped back in order to avoid being bonked.

“Oh dont worry little darlings, my people will take care of this! Now, Little Red it has been so long!”

The human walked right up to them, leaving Violets sight as they got closer to their big sister. Violet hissed. Who were they was the main question, the second being why they didn't run.

Onix lowered her head into the red scarf she wore, a glow growl still coming from her throat.

The human spoke again. “I see you have been cleaning your father’s mess! What a good girl you are.”

They peeked behind Onix, spotting the others. Onix brought her arm up to separate the group, the growl picking up as the human's silvery hair and dark purple makeup got closer.

“I see you have friends now.” They giggled again, smiling.

“Big Mama.” Onix huffed, the spikes on her shell lowering, but the ones on her face remained puffed up. “I didn't know this was your hotel.”

Big Mama smiled, a small one that set Violets nerves off. “Of course it is little one! Now, we have much to talk about!”

Onixs growl lowered in volume, but it remained. “We’re just here for the bugs.’

Big Mama waved. “Of course, of course. Come, I can help.”

Oreo shared a look with Violet and Sky, the older pair giving a nervous nod. Oreo jumped onto Onixs shoulder, slipping and catching themselves with scrambling feet.

Oreo spoke quietly. *We kind of need the help..* (Sky face palmed)

Violet and Sky made to stand on either side of Onix. Sky crossed his arms and Violet held their bō, though it was collapsed.

Onix grunted, lowering her extended arm. “Fine.”

She turned, moving to her abandoned gear. She picked it up, balancing her net and basket atop. Violet watched her, still keeping an eye on Big mama as the snapper returned.

Violet removed their helmet, making the metal retract with a press of a button. They slid the disk into a pocket, then showed Sky how to do the same as they walked up to an elevator. Oroe watched, then copied them, a grin on their face.

The elevator was strangely green and yellow, dark purple accents on the trim. Violet blinked at the small occapule looking mutant, who flicked a leaver and pressed a few buttons as Big Mama stepped into the elevator.

Violet looked back at the room right as the doors finished closing, humans and creatures in dark blue uniforms beginning to swat at bugs and clean the green mutagen.

The elevator moved down, making Violet's heart lerch. They clung to Onix, who responded by shuffling them closer with her tail.

The ride was quiet, say for the humming from Big Mama. Oreo was still perched on Onixs shoulders, though they struggled to stay in one place with the honey and gravity fighting them. Onix looked unbothered by the shifting Box turtle, her attention later focused onto BIg Mama.

Violet glanced at the human, startling as they noticed more yellow and purple in their eyes than any human could hope for. Their skin began to shine purple in the shifting light, though it very much could have been a trick in the light.

They stepped out of the elevator as it dinged, Motioning for the others to follow. Violet moved first, Onix and Sky following.

Violet glanced up at Onix, eyes going wide at the now silver eyes that glared at Big Mama. they glanced at Big Mama, whose skin was definitely purple as she spoke and waved about.

The halls were more of the green, though it faded to be more gold and jade then just the shiny yellow of the elevator. The floor was replaced with a dark carpet, softer looking than Violet expected for a hotel.

Sky had asked her something, though Violet missed it in their unease.

“- sounds fascinating child. No, we are all Yokai.”

“Yeah huh, like Onixs stories.” Sky scoffed, crossing his arms.

Violet glanced back at Onix again. She showed no sign of the annoyance she normally did, the corners of her beak poking out from behind her scarf in a smile or a snarl Violet didn't know.

“Why tell stories? We are very real.” Big Mama giggled yet again, honey almost dripping from her voice.

Sky squeaked. Oreo grabbed the attention off of the slider before Big Mama or Violet could speak again.

*Why did the bugs swarm here?*

Big Mama shrugged. “I can not tell you little one, though it seems like something you should figure out.” they paused. “With help of course.”

Onixs ever present growl picked up in volume, her movements becoming stiff as they stopped at a door. Violet blinked at the response, more from the fact that Oreo had definitely not just spoken in English. Their little sibling was also blinking, head tilted.

Big Mama smiled, a tad to samll for Violet's liking, unlocking the door. They gestured them in, following once all four of them had gone through.

The office was massive, red walls and dark wooden floors making the room feel small despite its overwhelming size. Big windows lined the opposite wall, showering the room in green light. Violet couldn’t see anything but shapes out of it, dark green and orange blobs in the far distance.

Big Mama walked to the other end of the room, pausing as they reached a desk just before the windows. They smiled at a photo, something like sadness passing their features as Violet watched.

They sat at the desk, nodding at the group. “So Kappa boos.”

Sky grunted at the new nickname. Oreo slid off of Onixs shoulders, The eldest holding too much to help them down. Violet kept hold of their bō, shuffling closer to their twin.

“You need some help with the bugs, yes?” Big Mama's smile widened slightly, looking almost normal.

Oreo gave a tentative nod, glancing at the others. Violet glanced at Sky, the pair also giving small nods.

“Oh no need to be so nervous around me little ones!” BIg Mama looked almost hurt. “I am no human trying to trick you.”

Onixs growl rose in volume once again, her tail lashing once before stilling.

Big Mama hummed. “Protective as always Little one, though suppose you got that form your father. Now,” They clapped her hands. “I will help you with hte bugs if you do one little favor for me.”

Violet nodded before the others could do anything. Sky groaned as Oreo took up the nod.

Big Mamas smile grew. “Oh you are such good little kappa! all i need is for you to find someone for me.” They looked right at Onix. “Your father should know where he took him.”

Violet looked up at Onix, whose eyes had gone wide, recognition flashing in her eyes. Her silver eyes.

“I-“ Onix chocked. “Ze- Who.” She settled, her tail tip flicking.

Big Mama smiled. “you know who little one.” They flipped the photo from earlier to face the group, a familiar person in the frame.

Onix went even more stiff if possible, the spikes on her cheeks now pressed to her scales as the growl from earlier dieing. Violet watched her reaction, worry wiggling into their gut.

Sky whistled, mailing Violet look at him. Sky nodded to the photo.

Violet blinked at the photo, a younger familiar person in it. Lou Jutsu was in frame, massive fire-y wings on his back as he held up a furry and small mutant, well, it was a mutant's limb. His classic suit was spattered with blood, but he had no injuries himself.

“But hes dead.” Violet looked at Big Mama, whose eyes closed as they gave a thin lipped smile.

“I know he is not.”

Sky hissed. “And how do you know that?”

“Because he was stolen from me. He has been missing for many years.” Big Mama's face fell, tears coming to their eyes.

Violet looked at Onix. Her face was mostly hidden by her scarf, her body still stiff as she stared. Violet rested a hand on her lower arm, earning no reaction. They whined slightly, watching his sister's face intently.

Sky was shaking his head. “That’s, no way. He died before any of us had even hatched-“

“Do not lie to me little kappa.”

“I'm not liking, he's dead. Everyone knows this!”

“And yet I know that is a lie.”

“How! he died in, like, the 90s! None of us had been hatched!”

“Stop this nonsense little Kappa, if you want my help then you will do this favor in return, lest I make you radio clowns for destroying my hotel.”

Something purple flashed in the corner of Violet's vision, making them spin to face the desk.

A massive form was revealed, a spider body taking up the space where Big Mama had just been. Inky black-purple limbs spread out, mint green fur cascaded down from the head to their shoulders, red eyes looking at them from all over. Big Mama's head rounded up, web dangling from her mouth as flat teeth partuded worse than even Onixs tusks. Six red eyes glared at them.

Violet hissed as Oreo screamed, dropping the photo they held. Sky growled, blue sparks coming off of his arms and hands. The bō in Violet's hands expanded with no input, something sizzling from deep within.

Big Mama turned to them. “You are useful little kappa,” Their voice was dripping honey and sugar, far too sweet and high pitch for their form. “In making me things.”

Violet's eyes went wide as web was flung in their direction, the sickly lavender fluid coming right from the spiders mouth.

Big hands pulled them back, web landing right where they had been. Onix was growling, her shell and cheek spikes once again fully puffed out. The metal she had been holding now lay at her feet, green mutagen splattered over her chest and arms.

Sky and Oreo where in her other hand, though Sky looked ready to pounce as Violet watched him. Oreo clung to Onix, though he was now hissing, a mean snarl spread on her painted face.

Big Mama sighed. “Really little red, I must take them. You understand. Warriors and weapons always do.”

Oni took another step back, her voice dripping with anger and venom as she spoke. “I am not a weapon. Nor are my siblings.”

Big Mamas eyes narrowed. “That is what your father always said. such a shame for his disappearance.”

Onixs head lowered into her scarf, the growl increasing as she pushed Violet and Oreo back. Violet hissed at the abrupt movement. They reacted into their suits shell, regretting not using their battle shell.

Metal screached on the floor, and Violet spotted Onix dragging disregarded suit and the bug eggs over to them. Big Mama saw too late, webs splattering onto the floor right where the metal had just been.

Onix moved suddenly, grabbing the shoulder pads of her suit, lurching back as more webs where flung their way.

Violet grabbed the basket, eggs included, and made a bolt for the door. Oreo was behind them, Sky and Onix following.

Violet yelped as they ran into a burly bellhop, ducking around them as Sky brought his leg down on the mutants arm. Oreo grabbed the bō, fumbling slightly.

She vaulted over the next person that crossed there path, dropping down and taking the dog mutant's legs out from under them as Violet ran past.

They found the stairs, pausing just long enough to look for their siblings.

Oreo was right behind them, bō still in hand as he batted at the dog mutant. Sky was a few feet past that, making a b-line for where Violet was. Onix was a bit farther back still, her heavy suit now in place on her scales as she ran, her tail knocking something over behind her.

Violet began the descent, then paused. The elevator had gone down. they looked up. up they would go.

They fled up the stairs, panting as they passed Sky and Oreo. The pair followed, Oreo using the bō to climb faster, and Sky sped up the stairs. Something blue flashed on him as he paused Violet, stopping on the landing to look down.

Onix was coming up, heavy footsteps being the only thing letting them know of her position.

Violet grunted, making way for the last floor. They slammed against the final door, hissing as it gave way. They stumbled, Sky cought them from face planting.

Oreo panted next to them, coughing the bō staff to steady himself. Violet made themselves look up, gasping as they looked around.

The sky was a soft emerald green, getting darker and darker the farther up Violet looked. Buildings where close by, near as dense as the city above; instead made of green metal and silver stone. Pale green windows reflected a careful light onto the ground below. Shapes flew in the background, massive creatures lugging what looked to be carts behind them or smaller ones flicking about free of what their friends carried.

Violet took a few steps forward, looking around. The city was so, well, for lack of a better word, beautiful. It called to them in a way they couldn’t possibly describe, the same way they had been drawn to mashenary and the cats, the same way they were drawn to Sky more than their other siblings.

“Welcome to the Hidden City”

Violet turned, looking at Onix s she spoke.

Her eyes were alsmot white in the brighter light, silver against the dark green of her scales. The scars around her eyes were tilted up with her brow muscles. Her scarf was pulled down, hanging onto the spikes on her shoulder, her tusks pulling her beak apart in a soft smile.

Sky looked out, a wissle ecaping him.

Oreo moved away from the door, standing next to Violet. *So it’s real?*

Onix nodded. “Yeah. Always has been.” She gave a soft laugh. “the day I lie about this place is the day I die.”

Sky whipped his head around. “Why are you so fucking dramatic- oh shit-“

Violet hissed as mutants where spotted in the door, one already trying to push at Onix. Oni, now in her full suit, elbowed the poor mutant, sending them stumbling back. She spun, grabbing the door and slamming it shut.

Violet yelped again as she ran towards them, grabbing Violet and Sky by their shells and launching herself off the roof.

Time slowed for just a few moments, giving them a moment to look down at the city below.

The streets were filled with mutants, the lower buildings looking like plaster and brick. No one looked up at the shadow that passed overhead, or if they did, Violet couldn’t see.

Gravity seemed to let them go, the three flying in the light of the green sky. Violet looked over, spotting Oreo next to the three, a wild and massive grin spread on her face. He was laughing, the sounds of clear as day in Violet's ears.

All too quickly they crashed to the next roof, gravity forcing itself back onto the four. Onix grunted as she landed, but she was moving already. Oreo rolled, running just behind Onix as they popped back up.

Violet watched the city fly past, living for every moment that gravity died, and hating every second that it decided to live again.

They had managed to clamber onto her shoulders, clinging to her shell and head as Sky was stuck to her arms. Oreo ran beside them, laughing at every jump.

Onix slowed as they reached a drop, making Violet click. The tall buildings dropped into middle and low rise buildings, now all made of bricks, stone, plaster and wood.

The snapper made her way to the edge of the roof, looking around. Violet yelped as she jumped onto a balcony then onto another low building roof. she looked up, head tilting. Violet turned to look up at the roof.

Oreo was on the roof above, looking down at them. He looked to be judging the jump.

She disappeared, then reappeared with a running jump. They grabbed the railing of the balcony, spinning around it before jumping and landing a few feet away from Onix.

Violet capped as Sky laughed. Onix gave a light nod, putting Sky down.

Oreo bowed. *Thank you, thank you!* they stood, smile covering her face.

Violet slid off of Onixs shoulders, stretching. Sky began to take off his suit, grunting as he did so. Violet did the same, collapsing the metal and fabric into a small pile.

Sky watched for a few moments before doing the same, blue added into the pile of purple. Oreo walked over, taking the armor off of his arms.

Violet took off their metal shell, sighing in soft relief as the weight of the prosthetic was lifted, quite literally, from their shoulders.

they began putting the collapsed bits into the shell, snoring them by color. Oreo handed them his pile, in a conversation with Sky that violet didn’t particularly pay any attention to as they sorted.

Onix put her pile down next to them, taking the bug eggs from where they had been abandoned. Violet flicked their now free tail, humming as they continued to sort.

Onix sat next to them, the basket set back down as she basked in the green light. Violet looked up at her, watching. She was leaning back on her arms, head tilted up at the sky. Her eyes were closed, though Violet could see the line in her face deepening. Sky and Oreo continued to talk, arguing about something.

“What are you thinking about?” Violet looked at Onix, Who blinked her eyes open.

“What..?” She looked at Violet.

“You are thinking.” Violet pointed out the aoviouse, head ducking slightly. “What are you thinking about?”

Onix sighed, shifting. She sat up slightly, her tail now propping her up as she put her arms in her lap.

“Big Mama.”

Violet blinked, tilting their head. Sky and Oreo both tuned, looking at their older sister.

“All that stuff she said about dad and you?” Sky asked, leaning back on his own arms. “Warriors or something?”

Onix sighed, nodding. “yeah.”

*Was it ture?* Oreo asked, one small hand placed on Onixs lower arm.

“Some of it.” Onix raised her head, a hand going for her lost scarf. she clutched at her choker, hand closing around the rock she wore. “I.. I live with someone else before dad, I know I've told you that before.”

Violet and the others nodded. It was one of her stories, living with someone with red hair and two small winged people for some unspoken amount of time. She had told them how she had watched over all of their eggs till they hatched, but she never spoke about how they mutated.

Violet clicked, regretting never taking the eldest seriously with her stories. Well, not when it was clear that they were more than stories.

“I didn't start living with them til i was two, and at that point I had taken some bad hits.” Onix let out a small and dry laugh, tapping her scared shell and face. “So when most saw all of us they thought I was a warrior, and given my size and species it was a far off assumption.”

Onix dropped both of her hands, taking the choker with them. She began to flip the rock over in her hands as she spoke.

“I, my other dad, took me to meet Big Mama once.”

Sky made a sound, one Violet couldn’t quite place.

“It went well. I was really little, so I don't remember much. I think I needed some kind of lesson, and Papa wanted me to learn from someone in her care?” Onix continued on, ignoring the others. “Then, a few years later, Papa made a choice. Dad was brought in, and you all where mutated.”

Violet startled then went still. Sky let out an accule gasp this time, Oreo blinking mutely.

“You guys were so young, I was so young. I didn’t have all the words to tell Dad or Papa what was happening, ” Onix choked back a breath, Oreo lunging for to give her a hug. Onix held Oreo up, lost in her own mind as she continued to speak.

“An accent happened. That’s why we all look like this. Dad kept us safe, he took us out of harm's way. He taught me how to read and speak japanese and english as i thought all of you how to speak the common-”

Onix was crying now, big tears rolling down her cheeks. Violet sniffed. Admitly was crying contagious. Sky came forward, leaning over her unscared shoulder and giving her a hug.

Violet also got up, taking her other side and nuzzling into the crook of her neck.

Onix curled around Oreo, sobs muffled by Oreo as the youngest hugged the eldest tight. Sky and Violet shared a look. Sky offred a lazy smile, then burrowed into Onixs cheek, mumbling something to her.

Violet gave their own smile, no matter how unnatural it came to them, They ducked their own head into Onixs cheek, humming a song she had always sung to them whenever any of them had a nightmare.

(*Eeww Onix you're covered in bug guts!*

“its not on me is it? ew ew ew get it off! Violet! stop laughing and help me!”)

[lucky-fy]

For the Laicion nation (aka, me and three other people)

I had this illustration commissioned (a big thank you to @lunehowls) for my werewolf AU Laicion fic (still a WIP).

The general pitch is as follows :

AU in which Laios never got to meet his sister again, putting his life on a whole other path, a more desperate one. A military deserter with barely a coin to his name, Laios hitches a ride on a boat to one of the elven continents, where he learns about magical tattoos that binds one’s soul to a wolf’s, effectively making them artificial werewolves. Illegal magic be damned, this feels like the answer to… everything.

In the process, he learns about the existence of an illegal fighting ring in one of the elven cities, where beastmen gladiators gather. Freshly tattooed and without anywhere else to go to, Laios decides to head there, where he meets Lycion, an elf and artificial werewolf gladiator. If they first bond over a simple shared meal, by spending time together (sharing the same room in the barracks, maybe the same bed? gasp) they find that they have a lot in common, notably a shared distaste for the body they were born in, a dysphoria partially remedied by becoming a werewolf.

They bond :)

NB: I commissioned another piece, go take a look :D

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads // twitter thread

Zombabe

paranormal YA set in a small town in 2003 where weird things happen that mostly get ignored

a boy is resurrected by his best friend after dying just before graduation. but he’s maybe a zombie now and if he ignores his hunger for flesh an ancient evil might start causing bigger problems

thankfully one of his friends’ aunt is a cop who has no problem helping get rid of some of the local nazis

queer teen friend group, m/m

[tteokdoroki]

HIGH HEELS - ryomen sukuna.

౨ৎ — about. “sukuna knows those heels, he’s pulled them off of you a million times before during a haze of lustful kisses and sly touches. he has no idea why the sight of them turns him on so much.” as rough and rugged as he may seem, ryomen sukuna lives to see his girl happy. he loves to see her smile. he loves to know she feels as good as she looks…but when you end up looking a little too good in a certain pair of heels, he can’t be blamed for making you late for a dreaded dinner... ( 6.2K )

౨ৎ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, pwp — video banner. modern!au, rich girl!au, forbidden romance, reader has sisters, degradation, praise, pain play, fingering (f!receiving), exhibitionism, slight!daddy kink, hold the moan, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!receiving), masturbation (m!receiving), cum play, creampies, modern bf!sukuna, rich girl fem!reader.

౨ৎ — things to note. haii everyone ! it’s been a while since i posted a longer fic so im excited. this was supposed to be a thirst lol. i’m just testing the waters with my version of modern bf!sukuna ! many thanks to @yennified for the ask that inspired it all. i’d like to thank everyone for their patience ‘n i hope you enjoy mwah mwah <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

“we’re going to be late, hot stuff.” 

“no we’re not, ryo. give me five minutes! i just need to —“ 

if there’s one thing ryomen ‘sukuna’ itadori had  learned from dating you, is that time management was never and never will be your strong suit.

if the phrase fashionably late could be embodied as a person, sukuna believes that it would definitely take the shape of you. you and your beautiful brown eyes that plead with him to give you a moment not even five minutes before you leave the house for dinner reservations. you and your sinful curves only accentuated the silk slip dresses you spend so long steaming before sukuna takes you out for the night. you and your perfect lips that have to be painted with the right gloss or lipstick to match your nails, purse and heels. 

all of you, and your beauty, make up the meat and bones of the phrase ‘fashionably late.’

just like right now, where you sit reapplying your hot chocolate lip gloss, perched on the edge of the luxurious king sized bed you’d demanded be in your hotel room. a room booked by your father for a family-oriented get-away. sukuna hadn’t wanted to come, as a man from humble beginnings, using your daddy’s money wasn’t something that he favoured — but the man liked to see his girl happy. sukuna lives to make you happy, even if he won’t admit it. 

“do ya really need five minutes to fix your lip gloss?” the pink haired man chides, sweeping a hand through his rosette locks in the mirror as he re-enters your bedroom. “i’ve seen you do it in less, gorgeous,” blood red eyes are quick to place you in the centre of the room — they never stray from you for too long, sukuna will always find you in a room no matter how busy or bare it is. your presence fills him with love and brings him comfort, even if he refuses to accept that as his truth. 

there’s a coldness to the look you give him over your compact mirror while you rub the swell of your lips together, spreading the pigment across them easily. it’s a warning not to rush you, a warning to your boyfriend who knows better. “i said, i need my five minutes.” 

ryomen drops the topic with a shrug, fixing his silky tie at the collar of his dress shirt — the one you’d so carefully picked because it matches the deep tone of his eyes and the colour of your slip dress. a mark of possession on your part. once he’s done, he takes to packing your designer clutch with all of your essentials from the dresser — blotting powder, your purse, any silver jewellery you’ll want to put on in the car. he slips on a couple of expensive rings to match with you too.

sukuna is more prepared for this dinner with your insufferable relatives than you are. he knows that tonight will be about your little sister and the rich lord she’s bagged as her boyfriend along with how soon they’ll be getting married. or it’ll focus on your older sister and her marriage that she’s trying so hard to keep together, despite it clearly falling apart. both of your siblings seem to think that they’re above you and your brooding, misunderstood boyfriend. 

but you don’t believe that. 

and you like to rub your love for one another in their bitter faces. 

“pretty girl,” sukuna purrs, his chest rumbling with affection once he takes note of your heels discarded to the side. their silver sparkles glint under the warm embrace of the lighting up above. sukuna knows those heels, he’s pulled them off of you a million times before during a haze of lustful kisses and sly touches. they’re expensive too — he has no idea why the sight of them turns him on so much. “if you don’t hurry up, we won’t be able to brag to your bitchy sisters about how in love we are.”

by no means is sukuna a man of weak resolve. his will is as strong as his exterior — coated in the scars of his rough past like the thick black tattoos that ink his arms. he remains strong in every scenario except for ones that concern you, one look from you and you’ve got that mountain of a man crumbling like an avalanche and falling to his knees. you cast your boyfriend an amused gaze, smacking your lips as you watch him sink to his knees before your very eyes. 

once again, your man takes the hint — thick fingers reaching for your glittery red bottom heels on the floor before he brings them up to the soles of your feet without a word. “you know how much i love the sound of that, ryo,” comes your dark hum, the colour of your eyes dimming with a desire ryomen sukuna knows all too well. “but i don’t see an issue with looking good while i do it.” 

“you’re right,” sukuna quips in a husky tone, taking one foot and slipping one of your expensive shoes onto it. “who cares if we’re late to meet your sisters. as long as you feel as good as you look — i couldn’t give a fuck.” his thick fingers that know the twitches and ticks of your body oh-so-well reach for the straps of your heels and slowly begin weaving them around your ankle, upwards. 

his blood red eyes remain hooked on your exposed thighs and supple skin, littered with a beautiful array of marks and scars from over your years of existence. some from before you even knew of ryomen, others from during your time together. “do you think i look good, baby?” you ask him innocently, leaning back on the bed with the palms of your hands lost in the whipped peaks of expensive cotton sheets — most exclusively found in this five star hotel. 

sukuna grins in that slow and sexy way which makes your stomach lurch with lust, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. “fuckin’ gorgeous, they’ll be shakin with rage.” he says, praise melting on the tip of his tongue. his words, in a symphony syllables, are accompanied by an undercover tune of desire — sukuna is a hungry man with little patience and a big appetite. once he’s settled on something, he’s damn sure to get it. 

tonight; his prey is you. 

the hulking man with the contrastingly soft pink hair bends at the neck to press a chaste kiss to your knee cap, smoothing the rough surface of his palms and workman’s hands over your doughy thighs — massaging you, easing any knots and tension beneath the top layer of your warm skin. his lips, only slightly chapped, curl upwards with a knowing smile when you let out a pleased chirp. sukuna’s hands work wonders on your body — causing your mind to drift away from the family dinner that awaits you. 

tonight; you could very well fall victim to the claws and fangs ryomen sukuna possesses.

kisses quickly become open mouthed and wet, hot and slippery over your flesh — and soon, sukuna adds teeth to the mix once he reaches your inner thighs, littering the area with deep shades of purple and midnight blue. he had no intentions of ravaging you like this, at least not so soon, but with a woman this irritable and fiery and troublesome on his arm how could he not? they say that you attract what you put out and the mirthy look in your eye, hidden between beautiful brown flecks of innocence, tells sukuna that you’re exactly what his guarded soul has been looking for all of his life.

his pulse quickens beneath the calcium cage of his chest — heart beat rising as you allow his curious lips and pink fluffy hair begin to disappear under the silky fabric of your figure-hugging dress. sukuna can practically taste you, the air underneath your skirt is dewy and warm and your flavour (that he knows oh so well) lingers within its particles.

god, he wants you so bad. he doesn’t even care how this may look. 

a man like him on his knees, ready to worship you as if you spout riches and bleed liquid gold. 

except you do, you’re worth more than sukuna could ever hope to be. the weight of your net-worth unfairly tips the scales and he doesn’t even care. all because he loves you. 

“why’re we even goin’ to this stupid dinner in the first place?” your rough and ragged boyfriend ponders out loud, with his words slipping over the edge of his sneaky snake's tongue. said tongue, if ryomen inches forward enough, could drag over your budding clit — clearly outlined through the barely-there crotch of your lace panties. “spend the night with me, doll. don’t gotta go a place…” a thick finger pulls the string of fabric away from your sticky slit, toying with the material until your premature arousal glazes his fingertip. 

but before the man can reward himself with the goods between your perfect thighs — the sharp point of your heel digs into ryomen’s firm right pec. your shoes are clean so they won’t leave a mark, but he feels like you’ve left one on his heart, even as the bottom of your shoe pushes him back and away from your warmth. 

“oh ryo, you must be hungry for the wrong thing,” you laugh breathlessly with your head tipping backwards, the sound shooting straight down to the hardness beneath sukuna’s black slacks. you push at him further until he rests back on his haunches — expression crazed and like a starved animal. “you forgot the other shoe, love.” 

it turns out, you’re just as skilled a huntress as sukuna is. a vixen who stalks her prey and makes them beg for all her mercy. “how careless of me…” the man drawls, finding himself drawn to you like a moth to a candle’s flame. he craves your attention, he basks in it when you give it to him in the way that you do now. there’s not a moment where you’re not looking at him, admiring the shape and form of your man as if he’s the rarest piece of art in the world or a treasure more expensive than any diamond. 

within the depth of those enticing brown eyes lay the truest form of love — even when you’re seconds away from devouring each other, your love for ryomen outgrows any doubt planted in your heart by your bitter family. 

“y’must be so disappointed in me…” he goes on, lifting your second ankle in one hand and adjusting your foot into the perfect position to slip your other heel on.  “how can i make it up to ya, gorgeous?” sukuna’s voice is gravelly, laced with intonations of neediness as he laces you up and finishes the job with a hand clasped over your knee. “i’ll do anythin’, anythin’ you want.”

graciously, you remove your red bottom from his shoulder and part your knees like the Red Sea — giving the older itadori the perfect view of the small string of fabric nestled between your glistening folds. even with the way you play coy, you’re always ready for him — as if it’s coded into your DNA to yearn for his touch. 

the upper row of your teeth sink into your shiny bottom lip as you look down at your man with unadulterated hunger. “anything, ryo?” 

sukuna’s chest rumbles (like a storm) with pride, his watchful gaze noting how you twitch and writhe for more. he leans forward and lets his black painted nails sink into the surface of your thighs — dragging you towards his awaiting mouth. “anythin’ for you gorgeous.” he repeats, voice raspy. in one swift movement, your red-bottom heels are swung over wide shoulders with thick muscles, keeping you nice and spread for him. 

from over your barely-there-panties, a finger glides through your glistening pussy lips and presses into your budding clit just to get a reaction out of you. a squeak that makes sukuna’s hips buck into the floor and a full body shiver that has your heels knocking behind the man’s head. arousal pearls on his fingertip through the material, which he leisurely rubs into the rest of your heated and throbbing sex, right down to your quivering hole. 

two fingers with polished black nails slip past your underwear’s waistband and dip inside of you with practised ease, instantly curling to find that special spot that drives you up the wall. sukuna knows you well, he’s spent years getting to that point. he’s committed every little detail there is to know about you to memory — the your lashes flutter when you like how he touches you, the way your throat bobs just before you mewl out his name. he knows exactly what you like and how to make you feel good. that fact drives sukuna into a frenzy.

his fingers start to work you faster, a lewd suctioning sound echoing throughout the luxurious room the deeper they plunge into you. sukuna’s thumb deliciously rolls over your swollen clit to add to your mounting pleasure, writing the signature of his claim on one of the most sacred parts of your body — where no other person can have you. 

“ryomen!” you squeal in surprise, your shaky thighs threatening to close around your boyfriend’s skilled hands. your hole clenches around his thick digits feverishly while drooling directly into the seat of his rough palm.

a resounding chuckle echoes between your legs, vibrating against your syrupy sex as his pink head of hair disappears beneath the hem of your silken skirt. “that good, huh?” comes his lazy reply to your call of his name, using his fingers to fuck your arousal back into you. “what’s the matter, pretty girl?” 

condescension twists with your boyfriend’s baritone voice, sending sparks of delight through your body like a thunder strike from zeus himself. when it comes to sex and pleasing you — sukuna is a god amongst mankind. the best you’ve ever had:

“don’t tease,” you growl out impatiently through gritted teeth, though your words melt into a whiny moan when sukuna easily bares down on your g-spot because he knows your squishy insides like the backs of his very hands. he finds it adorable when your face scrunches at the sensation of his cold, silver ring brushing up against your molten, sticky cunt and hums in content when you squirt a little bit for him in response. “we…we h-have plans for tonight!” 

“‘m sorry princess, didn’t know we were in a rush.” ryomen says smugly, leaning into the sinful scent of your sex as if he’s been bewitched. not even the sound of your silver gladiator heels knocking against one another behind his head can pull the man out of this reverie. despite your warning, your boyfriend figures that there’s still time to have his way with you, you don’t really care about being on time to meet your family and you hardly have the brain capacity to think about them right now.

not when you fall under the vicious waves of ecstasy and give in to your depraved lover. ryomen quickly has you drowning in pleasure as he finally takes the plunge and replaces his thumb on your clit with his lips wrapped around it. he sucks on the little nub from over your panties, tongue glazing the fabricated barrier with his saliva as he commits the taste of you to memory once again. 

your natural musk has sukuna drunk and high within seconds. you’ve got him returning to old habits and addictions he doesn’t have the strength to fight off. you’re bad for him and he knows it, but he can’t help but to make out with your clothed mound like it’s his life’s mission, mapping out the shape of your cunt through the stringy, soiled material. you ought to be embarrassed with the way you throb against sukuna’s eager lips as he buries his face further into your pussy. he inhales sharply, nastily, with his nose nudging against the sensitive treasure in circles — coaxing you open like a flower in the spring bloom. 

ecstasy decides to bloom within you too, evergreen roots taking residence deep within your chest and curling around your beating heart. your pulse quickens in anticipation, an intoxicating veil of covetous yearning shrouding your brain in darkness as the tip of sukuna’s tongue now begins to circle your tight little entrance. even with the fabric in the way, you greedily attempt to clench down on his predatory pink appendage and keep him locked inside your cunt — squirting small streams of your juices in the process. 

if your siblings could see you right now, how dirtily your man begins to ravage you just minutes before your family dinner while dripping on his tongue and the expensive bed daddy paid for, they’d be horrified. the sentiment strikes a pang of arousal in you, spreading to your boyfriend like a wildfire. 

and as ryomen hooks a finger around the soiled gusset of your panties to pull them down, you hardly find it within yourself to care about what your snotty sisters might think — not when you’re about to receive the best head and best orgasm of your life. 

“how d’ya wan’it?” instead of making a move to eat you out properly, ryomen takes two fingers and spreads your folds and exposes them to the blazing heat of his breath. exhaling through his nose next, he watches with blood red eyes as you twitch beneath his hold, dribbling liquid gold more than his mouth drools. “you’re so fuckin’ wet…all this from puttin’ on those pretty shoes?” your thigh shifts in response, heels clicking and back arches from luxury sheets crinkling under your back.

huffing impatiently, you send a threatening look down at your boyfriend despite how vulnerable you are to his torture teeth that could tear you apart in an instant. “ryo…your mouth,” you whinge, voice slipping into an almost babyish tone. despite your hard stare, your eyes are wet and wide like a prey animal watching its life go by right before it’s hunted or a deer in headlights, for that matter. “you promised you wouldn’t t-tease!”

“yeah, yeah, i know. ‘m sorry,” sukuna hums confidently, except he’s not really apologetic in the slightest — hardly doing his best to tame the uncomfortable yearning building up at your core. you’re a mess for him and he loves it, he’s entertained by the thought of you needing him so bad that it might kill you. he takes pride in knowing it’s not just him who feels this way. “thank you for tellin’ me, by the way. gonna use my mouth to fuck this pretty pussy til’ she’s creamin’ all for me,” he growls to you in a sultry tone, his aphrodisiac-like  words a breath’s width away from your sloppy mound — its timbre sound sending tremors of electricity through your swollen, unattended clit that convulses from the lack of attention.

nothing inflates ryomen sukuna’s ego more than the feeling of your sex throbbing against his face — juices glossing the plump swell of his lips as he wraps them around your puffy pleasure nub. his chest bristles as you open up for him like a flower in spring, the scent of your arousal acting like a perfume to him — the bee with the stinger of pleasure. he works his savage mouth along the length of your slit, as though he lacks the manners of a decently raised man, tongue prodding at your entrance just to be mean. after a while, sukuna stops sucking and making out with your dirty, creamy cunt to nip at your titillating folds, taking one between rows of sharpened pearly whites and gently pulling it away from you. 

at the abrupt feeling — you cry out hoarsely in a mix of bliss and surprise, taking a peek at the pink haired man between your spiked thighs with swimming vision. sukuna’s face is soaked, his angled jaw and cheeks and chin glazed in a layer of your slick as if he’s bitten into the ripest piece of fruit in adam and eve’s garden. the trail runs armously down and over his adam’s apple, coaxing your lover into eating you out properly this time. 

finally, finally putting his filthy mouth to good use.

“fuck, i love the way y’drool for me down here. got so much to give, don’cha gorgeous?” sukuna mewls into you whilst kitten licking your slit, drinking you in as though you’re a glass of water in an oasis of lust and sex. he chuckles happily at your dreamy sigh and circling hips that grind down on his face, tapping three fingers against your sticky pleasure bud lovingly. annoyingly ( but not without appreciation from you), sukuna takes it a step further by sloppily kissing you there. 

even with the time crunch, your pleasure takes priority. eating you out is like a reward for your man, it’s as though he was out on this earth by the gods purely to make you see stars. you feel lucky that he chose you out of all he could where he feels blessed to be the man you let touch you like this. 

“mmph, ryo… always g’na be wet f’you. for my man. only you get me this fucked up,” you drawl with a silky voice, making a show of tweaking your own nipples from over your dress for your boyfriend. with the slipperiness of a snake, your hands slide down from between the valley of your heaving breasts, over your clothed tummy ( that twists with knots of ecstasy ) and into the slicked pink locks that tickle your inner thighs. messing up his perfect look, you grip sukuna’s roots and tug on them forcefully — coaxing him further into the debauched realm concealed by the skirts of your dress.  

“princess…” ryomen lets out a pathetic, muffled groan — increasing the pace of the tip of his tongue as it lewdly flicks at your sex. “have you always had such a dirty mouth? what would yer daddy think?”

your head tips back at the new, gratifying sensation — ecstasy mounting in your lower tummy like bricks of a steady wall. “for as long as i’ve been yours,” comes your crazed and melodious laughter, only interrupted by pockets of squelching noises emitted from your squelching cunt. “oh baby…i don’t give a fuck about what my ‘daddy’ thinks. only you. let him stay mad — f-fuck! kuna!”

fuelled by the idea of pissing off your stuck up family, tattooed hands move to grip where your legs bend at the knee — pushing them back until your skirt rides up over your fleshy ass and your knees hit your shoulders and the soles of your shoes are able to lay flat against sukuna’s rippling back muscles. he hisses at the slight sting he feels from the pointed heel digging into his skin through his shirt, but it only fucks him up more. your pleasure is his pain, ryomen doesn’t give a fuck about anything else except for how good his girl feels. 

somewhere amongst the sweat soaked sheets your phone lets out a shrill cry — signifying a call from someone in your spoiled family. without sukuna’s command, you scramble through the sea of stiff fabric peaks and reach for the device, hitting the answer button before checking the contact. 

“h-hello?” you say in a poor attempt to speak clearly, stifling a deep moan. “speak of the devil and the devil shall appear…” comes your shallow whisper as you address your boyfriend. your chest grows sticky with perspiration beneath the bust of your dress — breathing uneven and heavy because of the way ryomen’s tongue wriggles past your tight little hole, squirming about against your lush walls to hit that special spot that has you screaming and seeing stars while on the phone to one of your relatives.

“excuse me, young lady?” it’s your father, much to sukuna’s dismay, his voice is irritatingly recognisable over the crackling of the line. of course he would find some way to unknowingly interrupt yourself and your loving, doting, disapproved boyfriend. “you were supposed to meet your sisters and i for dinner nearly forty minutes ago. where are you?” 

sukuna’s agitation shows with each wet kiss he aggressively places between your swollen folds, nasty and miscalculated whilst designed to leave you a shaky mess.“o-oh! hi daddy,” you emphasise the word, voice rising an octave until its light an airy. your swimming, doe eyes lock with crimson ones that bore into the depths of your soul from below — taunting and testing the pink haired man’s patience. “‘m getting ready. don’t you want me to look pretty?” 

the silky lilt to the tail end of your words causes sukuna to growl against your pulsating, temperate mound while his fingers yank you down onto his handsome face by your meaty thighs. eagerly, your hips canter down to match the stride of his tongue stroking your pretty pussy as though you’re riding his aching cock to your heart’s content. his tongue fills you up almost as good, warmly slipping and sliding over pleasure spots only he can reach. 

he kitten licks and sucks and bites at your raw sex like a wild animal, loudly moaning into you with every roll of your cunt over his face. you taste like heaven, the flavour almost angelic on his tongue. sukuna feels like a sinner with a greedy craving for more and if you cared just a little bit, you might have been concerned about your father catching the lascivious sounds from between your thighs over the phone. 

“i’m past the point of caring about how you present yourself at dinner,” your father says your name stern and low — talking to you as if you’re a child and not the woman you’d grown into. “your sisters are ravenous, they flew all the way into the country for this. don’t you think that they deserve an ounce of your time?” 

losing yourself to the danger of it all, you chuck your phone to the side after putting it on loud speaker. your lover targets your prominent, adorable clit again, the tip of his tongue rolling it in large circles until you’re close to tearing the sheets from the bed. you try your best to contain the scream building up in your throat, but sukuna has never made it easy for you to keep quiet. 

“mph…fuck!” 

“young lady! watch your mouth!” your father scolds you, still blissfully unaware of the fact that you’re getting tongue fucked by the man he hates all the way up to cloud nine. “i bet that good for nothing scoundrel has put you up to this. i keep telling you, no daughter of mine should be with a man like that. where is he? he’s the one making you late.” 

“actually, dad, sukuna’s been a good boy. sitting all handsome in those suits you like. i’m the one making…oohhh…m-making us late!” cruel carmine eyes flutter at your generous praise, lovesick as a sunburn like blush spreads over the bridge of sukuna’s nose from how desperate he is for you. if you tried your hardest to listen in over the wet sounds of your cunt being sucked on for dear life, along with the shaky delectable laments your lover lets out, you might be able to hear the sound of a zipper going down or the slickness of sukuna’s hand around his meaty shaft as he jerks himself off. no longer able to fight off his desire for you. 

your stomach flips at the sight and the pleasure mounts with your impending high, dainty fingers beginning to tug and twist at sukuna’s blushing pink hair. his pain is your pleasure.

“you’ve lost your mind, i didn’t raise you to be like this.” 

“you hardly…hardly raised me at all,” the words feel tacky in your mouth, as if it’s been stuffed with cotton that sucks up your saliva. it doesn’t help that your voice begins to waver too, reaching whistle tone notes. 

ryomen sukuna doesn’t know what’s hotter, the fact that you’re so easily able to sass your rich, douchey father or the fact that you’re letting him give you head while on the phone. “shit,” he curses as low as possible, using one had to smooth the pad of his thumb over the slit in his cockhead — smearing the precum that beads there over the sensitive flesh. his kiss swollen lips part from your sweet sex for only a moment to taunt you. he remains connected to you by a single rope of clear elixir that leaks from your precious little hole. “god, gorgeous. you’re fuckin’ drenched…all from talkin’ back to daddy, huh?” 

a lewd and sacchariferous mewl rumbles from deep in your chest as it rapidly rises and falls. it’s all too much for you to keep up with, you’re way too dizzy and it’s only made worse when sukuna bobs his head between your quivering legs so that his fat tongue drags through the entirety of your ravaged pussy lips. 

“holyfuckingshit!” you shoot the man a  glare once you remember where you are and who you’re on the phone to.

ryomen offers up a cocky smirk as his excuse before delving beneath your silken skirts once more, though it does nothing to mask how turned on he is — squeezing the base of his drippy shaft to stop himself from cumming too soon to the sight of you. 

you try not to forget the presence of your father again, it would be hard to, since he’s insistent on betraying you down the phone. “speak back to me again and i’m cutting you off. starting with cancelling the card you and your mangy boyfriend live off of.” 

“do it, i dare you.” you somehow manage to snap back, jolting at the sensation of sukuna’s razor sharp teeth grazing your clit. he hisses deliciously against your sex as your heels cut pretty crescent moons into his back. “i-i wonder what mom would have to say about it if you…if you did!” 

silence echoes down the line, broken by small pockets of your boyfriend slurping on your folds like a man starved. slurps that you’re just so blessed to be able to hear. you should feel ashamed instead of hungry, doing nothing to tame the greedy beast inside you that craves more and more of sukuna’s attention on you. you must have lost your mind, for letting him eat you out so brazenly while you converse with your father on the phone. it’s so depraved, so dirty and yet you wouldn’t give this… give sukuna up for the world. 

you love him more than anything. love how he treats you like you’re the strongest person he knows whilst handling you as though you’re made of glass. you love how he gets off to you, dribbling thick white from the tip of his cock because you make him a mess enough to need to jerk off. you love how he pleasures you, his baritone laments and simpers muffled against your cunt sending fireworks up your spine and setting them off at your tailbone where your mounting pleasure lies. 

you love ryomen ‘sukuna’ itadori, and no amount of scolding from your father will ever change that. 

“just…just be here within the hour. please.” your father requests quietly. 

“see you soon, daddy,” you hang up the phone faster than a lightning strike, all of your composure flying out of the window with the last dial tone. “ryo, fuck! i’m close… gonna cum. please, hurry!”

“god you’re such a fuckin’ menace, hah, pretty girl?” your pink haired lover quips airily, his jaw tight from flicking his tongue against your sex in sync with his fist flicking around his throbbing dick, slinging precum about the place. he’s amused and love sick all at once, a feeling that was once foreign to ryomen before he met you. “gotcha so turned on by talking back to your dad, yeah? all while i ate this pretty fuckin’ pussy out… so nasty,” only sukuna could make you feel this loved while degrading you, the only man who’s ever been able to do so. none of them could come close to knowing your body like he does, the way you twitch when you’re close and start to pout like a spoilt brat when you’re frustrated from waiting for your orgasm.

sukuna takes the edge off by lifting a tattooed arm and slapping his hand down on the entirety of your cut — letting out a haughty moan at the sight of glistening droplets of arousal flying about the place while your heels drag down his back with delightful pain. you cry out, but your boyfriend’s mouth is back on you in seconds — soothing your poor pussy. “‘m so lucky to have you though, my nasty fuckin’ princess,” he mewls into you, using his tongue to bully your g-spot over and over and over while he fists his precum glazed cock into oblivion. “gonna make you cum, gorgeous girl. let you make a mess in my mouth, you want that?” 

“m-more than anything, ryo!” you wail, fighting back tears as you spew a fresh wave of your sweet nectar from your pathetic hole. you do have a dinner to get to after all, you should only be crying from one place. your cunt. the sound of said squelching cunt and your dulcet whines make sukuna’s balls twitch with a load he would only dedicate to you.  “i love you, love you s’much…love you,” 

the delirium starts to catch up with you, becoming too much to bare as you babble nonsense into the sex tainted air. you can’t hold back, some of your release already beginning to stream out of you. “‘m gonna cum, ryo…cum with me, please!” you squeal in warning, mere seconds before your body succumbs to sukuna’s eager tongue and the wrath of your orgasm. 

“love you too, s’much,” your glittery heels knock behind his sweaty mass of pink hair, cutting into his back as he walks you through it all. “f-fuck baby, that’s it,” he goads as you gush into his mouth like a tidal wave. you have so much to give, release trickling into his mouth, painting his cheeks and sliding down his adam’s apple in a viscous current. sukuna is swept away by the arousal in the air, drinking you in as he pumps his cock harshly and in tune with the way you weakly hump at his face through the aftershocks. 

pulling his sticky mouth away from your equally sticky sex, sukuna replaces his tongue with three of his fingers to your clit — coaxing you through the rest of your high as he draws random shapes on the puffy nub. “keep that orgasm goin’ for me, pretty princess, give it to me…give it t’me while i fill you up,” he rambles brainlessly, abruptly standing up as he fists his cock pulled out from the zipper of his dress pants — barely fighting back his own orgasm. “spread those fuckin’ legs, wanna cum inside.” 

“ryo!” 

“ahh, fuckin’…fuuuck!” in one swift move, your boyfriend slips his sensitive and bulbous cockhead past your quivering, orgasming entrance — shallowly thrusting into your tight heat as you spasm around him, before he’s thrown off the edge into his own high. “c-cummin’…” hot sticky ropes of white seed flood your womb, which sukuna keeps plugged into you as he folds you over — chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat. your heels clink at the dip in his waist behind his back. you’re still cumming as languid thrusts smear your boyfriend’s cum against your rippling walls, but you’re content, breathing beginning to even out as you both come down from cloud nine.

still releasing in small spurts, ryomen slowly pulls out of you with soft kisses pressed to the side of your face. “sorry, didn’t wanna fuck up my pants before dinner,” he chuckles over the warm static spreading over your happy little brain. 

you offer him your own dopey laughter, remaining sprawled out underneath your hunk of a man. “so you decide to just jizz inside of me? you’re a class act ryo. what about my dress?” 

“first of all, you don’t like it when shit goes to waste ‘n second off all, i made damn sure that it stuck. your dress is fine, brat.” a chaste kiss is pressed to your nose as sukuna helps you sit up, double checking for any mess he might have left between your shaky legs. “let me clean you up, don’t want your dad findin’ out what we were really up to all this time.” 

“pretty sure he already knows,” you shrug, rolling your ankles as you lean down to fix a strap on your heel. “you’re a messy eater, ryo.” 

but before you can fix your shoe back into place, ryomen sukuna is already on it — adjusting the strap to sit comfortably on your leg before he stands again and retreats to the bathroom for a warm cloth to clean you up with. 

you watch with a smirk as he goes, admiring all of the little red marks on his shoulder blades you’ve left on him with your shoes. “then i guess i’ll have to use some fuckin’ table manners at dinner,” he remarks childishly. “but i can’t help how delicious you look in those heels, gorgeous.” 

and it’s true, you’re the only meal sukuna could ever want — especially when you leave your claim on him with high heels like that. 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere. special thanks to @yennified for the ask below !

[rottmnt-residuum]

Hi, I've read the Residuum comic, and I think the characterization of the boys is really good. I was wondering if you have any tips on how to write them? Especially Mikey, please.

I'd actually recommend re-watching the show with one character in mind. All my notes on the turtles come from doing separate re-watches for each of them. The key is to ONLY watch the character you are focusing on.

In the end, you'll probably be happier with your own personal interpretation. As we are with ours lol

TL;DR

Massive post under the cut

To preface: we'll be contrasting (this Mikey) against the fandoms version of Mikey, as our interpretation is very different. Don't worry if you prefer the fandom version, there's nothing… wrong per se with writing him this way. We just find him flat and uninteresting. (Main author: not me, I just hate him, lol).

Every reader or fan comes into a story with their own biases and experiences. A ton of our view of Mikey is based on how our siblings acted. We see Mikey as the young sibling that got preferential treatment from the whole family, simply due to being the youngest, but is now aging out of the privilege. Which all youngest siblings do at some point or another.

The fandoms version of Mikey is empathetic, naive, vulnerable, co-dependent and quite often a door mat who cries at the drop of a hat. And as much as the fandom like to say that people love him… when this particular character archetype is in other media, they seem to attract the most criticism. Mable pines, Bolin from Korra, people rag on Aang all the fucking time, and Steven Universe is a whole other bag. These characters don't deserve it, and yet it happens anyway.

To flatten Mikey to simply 'the baby' is a disservice. We don't see or write Mikey as the fandom “baby” version (cinnamon roll uwu). Part of this comes from having multiple siblings, so we interpret the times when Mikey does the puppy dog eyes as typical younger sibling bullshit, mostly by the way that the other turtles rarely react to it, if at all.

The other turtles traits can also get projected onto Mikey. Mikey being the fandom therapist is in the same category as this. He isn't a therapist, he's a psychology nerd who likes to psychoanalyze people and meddle in their relationships. (Donnie and Shelldons relationship, Splinter and Draxums...) he's not trying to resolve your emotional issues. Of the turtles, the character that cares the most about people's feelings is Raph. And Leo is more of a consoler than Mikey ever is. It flattens all the turtle's characterizations when you start doing this because you are ripping out parts that are integral to another characters' complexity.

Co-author has told me that they've seen people become confused when going into the show after only reading fan fiction or coming from the movie. They see his characterization as inconsistent and become upset when their view of him is contradicted. This also happens when a fandomized version of him becomes the primary characterization that they use. Sometimes when this disconnect happens (or if they just don't like the character), Mikey characterization is swung in the complete opposite direction.

They make him manipulative and abusive, or someone who is hyper violent and avoids being held accountable for anything. This is an uncharitable interpretation of him and can come off as pretty racist depending on the circumstances. (like if someone considers the turtles black or not)

Every version of Mikey is a shithead (affectionate), even this one. Especially this one, really. When Mikey not doing the "baby schtick" hes mean. If you pay attention to what he's saying, and just not his tone of voice, he's consistently saying pretty mean or condescending stuff. (You could take this as simply naïveté, but he still says mean shit pretty often regardless)

The times he does say genuinely nice stuff the turtles don't exactly expect it from him, at least, in the early season. And while he is mean, and seems to find saying mean things to be funny, Mikey isn't cruel. Nor will he ever be.

This shit-headery behavior is found in both 2003 and 18 Mikey. They have a degree of social intelligence that lets them use it to annoy people into doing what they want. 18 just has the advantage of being baby faced and having better tonal control. He's good at using people's perception of him to get what he wants.

Let Mikey have his problematic traits, but don't overexaggerate them. He doesn't revel in fooling people. He loves doing character bits, and the baby faced one just happens to be one of them. However, to infantilize or to deem him incompetent is to piss him off, he wants to be viewed as a competent part of the team and competent as an individual. He's not insecure about being young, he just doesn't want to be treated like he can't do anything.

Mikey above all is an optimistic character, he sees the brighter side quite often and is conscious of the harm his actions have on people. Mostly after the fact, but he consistently attempts to rectify the harm he has personally done to peoples lives. (Todd, Bullhop, Draxum). Food and shelter seems to be a thing that he considers to be a right. He doesn't cross a boundary twice once he learns of it, and he never pushes people too far (if he likes you, that is. if he doesn't know you or doesn't like you, he doesn't give a singular shit. But that is standard to most people.). He doesn't care about people's stuff, though. He breaks things all the time.

Mikey understands boundaries, but he doesn't automatically recognize them. He needs them to verbalized or for there to be a very obvious reaction to the boundary being crossed (unfortunately, for Todd and Donnie). Sometimes people mess up (esp. younger people), and it can take a while for teens to learn where boundary is, but he fully respects the boundaries he does know about. He doesn't act petulant when he's told about boundary, he apologizes, accepts it, and moves on. He doesn't dwell.

Mikey doesn't hold on to distressing emotions. He bounces between emotions quickly, but isn't effected in the long run. One thing Iv'e seen people often conflate is the difference between sensitive and vulnerable. Mikey is sensitive, but I have never seen him vulnerable to others. To be sensitive is to be easily influenced by the current situation. To be vulnerable is to hold that influence for a long time. Characters can have one, both, or neither of these traits. But Mikey is not vulnerable. It is the difference between compressing memory foam and a piece of metal until they deform. One will pop back, the other does not.

Those who are vulnerable but not sensitive will take longer to effect, but once you do, they will hold on to that emotion for a very long time. The vulnerable, are grudge holders. (leo). But like I've said, Mikey bounces back. What a character does has an effect on his emotions, but it doesn't make a lasting impression.

Forgiveness is another thing people like to push on him. It is not that Mikey forgives people easily, it's just that he doesn't hold grudges. He neither forgives nor forgets, but he does not ruminate. He's generally affable, first impressions seem to be a big part of how he views people. He is idealistic, and doesn't assume people are unchanging and/or evil, but he's not a mark.

Mikey isn't so much as naive or overly trusting… it's just that he's inexperienced. He doesn't get fooled by anyone in the series except meat sweats, and that's because Meatsweats is on Todd drugs. Mikey just didn't notice when he started faking. He's not… actually all that aware of people's emotional states, passively. He has to tune in to notice things like that.

Mikey isn't someone who really tries to regulate others emotions, either. The fandom like to make Mikey afraid of his brothers fighting and others being upset, but Mikey doesn't actually care. The most distressed we ever see him in a fight is in the movie, and he's not SCARED, he's just concerned (and then alarmed once it turned physical). If anything, outside extenuating circumstances (like the movie), Mikey actually seems to find their fights annoying.

(Mikey actually seems to have a pretty short fuse, but his bounciness doesn't really let it linger very long, lmao)

(One pet peeve of fandom Mikey is the constant crying, crying at fights, crying at insults, crying for no reason all the time. Sure, he tears up when he gets emotional, but when Mikey is genuinely crying It's when he's desperate, like when he's hungry, or when he's trying to save Leo from certain doom. Same thing, really.)

Mikey respects no one (we love him for this). He admires people, he admires his family: April, the turtles, his dad, Lou Jitsu. He admires Rupert Swaggert, but he respects none of them. No one is sacrosanct to the Mikey.

Above all, the way we write characters is to give them a past that informs how they act now. We view Mikey and the other turtles as teenagers that were kids, and that will be adults. Yes they all have “problematic” traits, but 1) good characters need flaws, and controversial traits are one of the best to use, and 2) they're teenagers, don't expect adult behaviors from them, also don't expect them to be kids. They're minors, not toddlers.

This is getting as long enough as it is, so we'll stop here, but this is a very broad overview of how we characterize him. There's a lot we didn't cover here, but if we even started on hobbies, or the real minutia of his quirks and ticks, or even how he feels about other specific characters... we'd be here all day. So I hope this is good enough lol

If there was something you wanted to know in particular, you'll need to get specific. Feel free to ask again ahahh

[kanmom51]

WHO JM

This is going to be a bit of a ramble of thoughts on my part. It took me around 24 hrs. to take it all in.

Before I start talking about everything, I do want to thank my good friends, you know who you are, with which we had these discussions and back and forth trying to figure it out. Said it once and will say it again: Love you guys!!!

And on that note, let's get to it.

I'm still trying to wrap my head around everything we got with Who, not to mention the whole Muse concept, the configuration of the album, the order of the songs.

Unlike Face this is less of a autobiographical album. This is more about a concept. We have the connecting thread from Face to Muse through Rebirth (Oh, I'm gonna talk about that song for sure). Then we go into Interlude: Showtime, leading into SGMB and then Slow dance, Be mine, Who and Closer than this in that order. Interlude showtime being the switch from personal (ME) to showtime/performance (US) perhaps. A show themed around love. And an interesting thing happens when you look at the placement of the songs. First of all, Who, the only song JM isn't credited for writing, is last. Then, and this to me is the interesting part of it, the songs go from SGMB having that love, being sure of it, wanting even to help others find it as the first song you hear all the way back to searching for that unattainable love (Who). Starting the story from the end, when love is found, rather than from the beginning when love is being searched for. Starting from the happy ending. And if you do want to link it to his own story (not sure it is, but for funsies) then it's basically going back chronologically. SGMB is the now JM, the happy one who found love, while Who is the JM who didn't even know what he was looking for, or more so Who he was looking for. And if we are already going in that direction than basically going full circle with Face in the sense of Face being in chronological order of things and Muse mirroring it in the sense of going present to past rather than past to present (yes, I definitley did not major in arts and it shows, lol).

Let's talk about Who now.

First thing first, once again, and thank you for that amazing post, I'm going to link to @andy-wm's post right here. Because basically it says most of what I wanted to convey, and as usual, written so so well.

You would think this is all about a guy looking for a girl, right?

NOT.

More so a guy looking for love, thinking that it's in a girl's image. "HER". @andy-wm explained it beautifully. I am going to emphasise a couple of points and/or add to them.

No. It's not just you. Although I do admit, it took me several reads and re-reads to have that eureka moment. When you take in the full picture. It's there.

JM is looking for someone. In his head he thinks it's meant to be a girl. That's what society has told him. That's what is expected of him. That's what makes sense to him. Again, in his head.

And yet, his heart, it's still searching.

And he continues to search but he isn't finding 'her'.

First the use of "think" again. The mind thinking versus the heart finding.

And pay attention to the lyrics: "If every day I think about her..."

Not "Every day I think about her..."

The way I see it, this is again about challenging society's expectations of him. If he's doing it right, if he's thinking about finding 'her' every day of his life, then why hasn't he found her? And the emphasis is on the question why, repeated multiple times.

He's asking why not how. And why do I think that means something?

Think about it for a second.

If he's looking for her every day, thinking about her all the time, wouldn't the question be "how is it that I haven't I found her?" But by asking "why haven't I found her", it feels more so like "am I doing something wrong here? Why isn't this working?" Perhaps because the Who he's looking for, the Who his heart is looking for, is not a "her"?

And this kind of disconnect between what his mind thinks he is looking for - "her", and what his heart is looking for "who", continues throughout the song.

Another thing I noticed, and I don't know if it means anything, is the repeat of the number five in the song.

That second one hit me the first time I heard the song. Why? Why count to five? So random. And yes, I know it could mean absolutely nothing, and yet, it is curious why we get these two fives.

So I went looking what the number five could mean, cause we know numbers do mean something to them.

On my search I found this:

And this is about this piece of art:

The name of that piece of that famous piece of art: "Sun, Moon and Five Peaks".

And this:

The sun and moon are incarnations of yin and yang and symbols of brightness. The five peaks represent the center of the Earth and correspond to the sky and the seat of the king, who is the Son of Heaven. The number five is significant, as it is the midpoint of the decimal system.

Another coincidence?

Then there is what the number 5 symbolises spiritually (not specific to Korean culture):

Was this on purpose? This is one of those things I really don't know. And yet...

But again, we have to remember that this is the only song on JM's album that he isn't credited for being part of the lyrics writing.

And yet, we know that he did sit with John Belian telling him what the story was he wanted him to tell.

We don't know just how much of it is JM and what he wanted to convey, at least with the lyrics. We don't know just how much say JM had in the direction the MV went in, but it does feel like at least some of these things we are seeing are not pure coincidence and are intentional, for example the next thing I want to talk about.

Let's talk about the falling billboard screen for a sec.

The timing of it falling, the WHO without the question mark, the why...

JM is singing, dancing, the storm is brewing, wind blowing, he sings about "her" and then asks: "who is my heart waiting for?"

The dancers split up, and he starts walking towards us and this falls from the sky:

"Who is my heart waiting for?"

It has a blue frame that breaks apart (perhaps symbolising how this love is framed differently or that the barrier that was there between them now broke - yes, pure drivel on my part, but let me have this, I'm really enjoying it, lol).

This is who, is what the screen is screaming out!!!

"keep going" it tells him, as he's walking in it's direction.

But the screen, it's facing us. We can see it, but he can't see it yet.

He is walking in it's direction but still oblivious to what it's showing him.

Another thing I noticed there is that the screen falls from the sky but doesn't collapse or break or topple over. It stands there, strong and stable. Just as strong and stable that love is. The Real love he talks about in Rebirth. And then we cut to the next scene. We don't see what happens when JM comes closer in. Does he see it? Does he see Who?

Thank you @theendiswherewestarted  for sending me the next couple of links I want to address.

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This one I noticed myself - the colours of that fire stood out to me, seeing as they were different from other fires on screen.

The Yellow purple that we also got in the poster question mark.

The way the signs are basically around him (the fire, the screen), but he passed them by unnoticed, perhaps because of how he perceives his love is meant to look like. It's a she, not a he, and even if it is on fire or on a neon sign, something he should be noticing, he just doesn't.

The second is this:

I have seen some that noticed this and I admit, it took me a very long time to see the face (some saw a face in smoke in the teaser as well), but I have to admit, it does look like a face. Could it be JK? Idk. Is this intentional? Well, it doesn't look like the actual smoke, it does look like a projection or add-on, so... I guess this one I'm going to leave as a question mark. A possibility.

But this one, I'm feeling the need to go back to this one because this is just WOW...

I am aware there are those that claim it to be another member. All I will say that they are wrong.

Also want to thank @lastride1981 for your ask.

And then the MV ends with this:

You know, if we didn't get the message just yet (which I can assure you many didn't), then let's end it with rainbows. Yes, that is who your heart is waiting for!!!

Nothing JM does is not thought about, is not intentional.

And that rainbow at the end is again one more of those things!!

As I said, not everything is intentional. But a. saying not everything is intentional inherently means some of it is. and b. this is JM we are talking of. The master of layering his art.

This is art. Intended for us to ponder about. It's up for interpretation. Even a song with rather simple lyrics like Who, especially with a MV attached to it and JM being the artist behind the two.

So this here is how I see it. My interpretations. Sharing them with you.

[ughdontbeboring]

pain relief

Austin Butler x WoC Reader (can be read by anyone)

Reader is trying to hide her chronic pain from her man

warnings: chronic pain (migraines), insecurities, smutty

THIS FOR ALL MY CHRONIC PAIN GIRLIES!!

notes: WOW even with all the Austin wips in my notes this is my first one to be posted, wow idk makes me nervous 😅 yall I hope I did our sweet boy justice.

No description of ethnicity one comment of complexion that’s it but reader when I write is always written with myself in mind. It’s soooo self indulgent.

this is SUPER self indulgent, So I first thought of this from his interview with Jimmy Kimmel when they asked about the migraines as an excuse not to have sex and of course his response was spot on he said “I don’t know what a migraine is” and Jimmy said “of cour you don’t” lmfao bc idk if I’d even turn him down if I had one!

I had a really bad period of back to back migraines for a couple months and this is what my brain rewarded me with in between one. I really don’t know what this is yall lol so don’t ask idk if I’m actually happy with it but yea lol

I put x reader but idk I guess it can tell be read that way, I don’t have the energy to re write it y’all so

now that I’m starting to feel better I will be catching up on my other wips.

if you like it, love it, fuck with it leave some love. I DO NOT give permission for my shit to be used anywhere by anyone.

🤕

Don’t focus on the pain, don’t focus on the pain she repeated over and over again in her head from under the safety of the soft cool cotton comforter as if it would keep away the pounding pain, protect her from it. 

It would not. 

Even with the house dead silent, the fan on for a little noise and all the black out curtains drawn that her boyfriend insisted he buy when he learned about her diagnosis from childhood- she knew relief would not find her. She shifted trying to readjust and find a more comfortable position to lay in, the little pocket above her head letting much needed cool air into her little bubble. 

She knew a few weeks ago she should have reached out to her neurologist but she’d just been so busy it kept slipping her mind and the aspirin had been holding her over but this? no this one was a monster and it was full peak right now. It started almost a day ago after the LA screening for The Bikeriders and had not gone away.

It didn’t help that they also just got back from the UK press tour. All the flying, the red carpets, the flashing lights and noise was starting to take its toll. Recently her boyfriend of just a little over a year revealed to her how much he enjoyed having her accompany him and how he loves sharing those moment with her. Hence all the traveling she’d done recently at his side. 

They still believed in healthy space but they truly enjoyed being together as much as they could. 

Usually she’d fly out every 2 or so weeks to wherever he was since her job was more flexible, their relationship was long distance since she was still living in New York. Which they’d also discussed changing that status but they both agreed to iron out the plans once the tour was over and he had a few weeks of down time. They figured the actual move would happen after he filmed in NY the end of summer. Knowing summer was her favorite time to be home, ever the thoughtful boyfriend. 

Though she was nervous to tell her family. They adored Austin but they’re a very close family and not seeing them everyday would take a lot of time to adjust to but it was important at this point in their relationship to actually be together. He even mentioned he’d love to look for a New York apartment which she had thought was unnecessary they could just stay with any of her family members when they visited until he reminded her she wouldn’t want her family to know she was his pretty girl who got cock drunk and loud when he fuck her stupid. Yes their own place was necessary. 

She felt a sharp pain at her temple and groaned. It was like her brain was telling her to stop thinking about all the stress and think about the pain she was in, which she didn’t want to do either honestly. She wish she could sleep it off but it was impossible. 

She flipped her pillow to the cool side and once again tried to empty her brain. Deep breaths girl deep breaths, the pain isn’t forever. 

She heard the front door slam shut up, which made her curl up even more in a fetal position and the deep smooth voice of her favorite person calling out to her. That voice was her favorite in the whole world but right now she needed silence. She had hoped the migraine would have been over by the time he got back but she wasn’t so lucky. Now she would have to face the music.

She had been telling him the past couple weeks it was just little headaches nothing serious, he knew she got migraines but hadn’t experienced any with her so far. The past 2 years she hadn’t needed to be medicated, the doctor couldn’t tell her why they suddenly stoped and why she was only getting little headaches every once in a while. This is why she was so unprepared and completely out of her medication she hadn’t needed in so long; she truly thought they had finally stopped for good. 

She couldn’t have been more wrong with the pain that was throbbing in her head. The front of her skull a constant ache and the back at the base of her skull and neck a wicked throbbing. The pain in her neck and shoulders unbearable even right between her eyes a sharp pain. She felt like she was dying. The fatigue of the attack her body was under was starting to catch up to her. She was trying to hold back the tears but the sound of boots pounding up the stairs along with the call of baby had her on the verge of a tearful melt down. 

She wanted to avoid the conversation that would surely come after this, when he would witness her in a peak migraine state. She felt horrible because she knew he’d feel like it was his fault for encouraging her to come with him to all the press events but it wasn’t his fault. 

She was an adult and she should have addressed this weeks ago with him and her doctor when the headaches started and not try to hide it to avoid worrying him. 

She should have been honest and though she has no reason to be she was scared to tell him.  She was scared he may think she wasn’t able to handle this kind of life. What if he wanted someone who didn’t need to recharge so often? Or someone who could just do anything with him at anytime not be laying in a bed sometimes for more then a day in pain and grumpy. Someone who couldn’t be touched in this state or be the prefect girlfriend. 

She also knew she sounded ridiculous that wasn’t who Austin was but it didn’t stop the insecurity she had about her migraines and how they held her back from life sometimes. Held her back from being fully emerged into his lifestyle. The guilt wrecked her. 

She knew she was mostly feeling insecure about her migraines because of those comments. She wasn’t normally insecure but recently she had read some comments which usually don’t bother her, about her and Austin’s relationship and how unhappy she looked being on press tour and if she was so unhappy why not just leave so he could be with someone who was happier with him. Those people obviously ignored the photos that were not taking at events that showed how happy they were but not knowing or they probably didn’t care she couldn’t be happier than she was, she was just suffering from more frequent migraines. 

So of course they’d focus on the bad, not all the fans but some. A lot of fans, who she felt were real fans could simply see how happy Austin seemed again. She knew how that felt, she met Austin as a fan and all his relationships and flings after Vanessa seemed lackluster and without any real connection, so she got it. But some of the comments were really getting to her at this moment. Especially the ones about how he looked happier with Kaia (which she knew was a lie from hell, she heard all about that relationship from Austin, his last ex) and then the ones about Vanessa looking happy ALL the time, which was funny because Austin spoke to her about their relationship also and if fans only knew it wasn’t always perfect, yes they loved each other but still there was a lot of hurt in that relationship for Austin. 

Then when those things would pop up she’d think what she’d say to her mans ex’s if she ever met them or if she’d just ignore them. 

Her head throbbed hard from all the unnecessary thinking and stress she was bringing onto herself, things she normal never paid any mind when the bedroom door swung open. 

Baby? He called again, steps coming to a slow stop halfway into the room when she assumed he noticed the state of the room; all the curtains drawn, the TV and lights all off, no noise but the fan she placed near the bed even though the central air was on and the pile of blankets on the bed covering her balled up body. Not a single part of her visible as she quickly stuck her hand out the air pocket at by her head careful to not let any light in and weakly waved at him. She could hardly speak let alone move her head to acknowledge him anymore. 

“Baby you still in bed? It’s 10” He asked as he walked closer, not that he cared it was just unusual for her and caused a bit of concern to form in the pit of stomach. 

He watched the head or he’s assuming area of the blanket shake in a yes motion. Even with the black out curtains there was still just enough light to make out everything in the room. 

“Baby what’s wrong” he asked in a soft voice from the edge of the bed, his hand running gently up and down some part of her body under the blanket. Her body coiled away from his touch. He tried to shake away the slight sting it caused him.

“uh migraine” she whispered weakly, if he wasn’t mistaken he could hear the underlying embarrassment in her tone. What could she be embarrassed about? 

“Oh shit baby, you need anything? Anything I can do?” He genuinely asked in gentler tone, though she couldn’t see how his eyes soften knowing she was probably in an immense amount of pain. 

He felt useless. 

“Uh no, just gotta be left alone for a while” this time there wasn’t any embarrassment in her tone just guilt. 

Austin tried to school his own face and tone of disappointment. He know he couldn’t do anything truly to make it go way but he wanted to help, wanted to be there for her like she’d been there for him on all his overwhelming days and nights from filming and traveling. His sweet girl deserved that. Then he thought back to this one thing he’d came across when he was reading online about migraines when she first told him she got them pretty frequently in the past. He quickly dismissed that idea, a slight blush creeping up his neck, he felt a little embarrassed himself for even thinking to suggest that, who says that to their partner Austin? He thought. She clearly needed to be alone. 

“Ok I’m just head downstairs then, call me if you need anything”  

He took another moment eyeing her blanket fortress before turning and slowly heading Towards their bedroom door.

“Austin?” He heard her call shyly, her voice still muffled from the layers covering her.

“Yea?” His own tone was laced with curiosity.

“Uh…there…there is one thing you could probably do for me…if you don’t mind..if you do it’s ok-“ 

He was quick to be at her side, slipping out his shoes, ready for whatever. His stomach burned a little thinking she may ask what he thought of just briefly a moment ago.

“Anything” 

He watched her baby blue fresh set of nails slip from under the blanket and her hand reaching out for his. His own large hand was in hers before he even registered it moving. She tugged him lightly, his body following gently. He was careful not to touch her as he laid next to her, his chest near where her head was, he remembered her saying how she didn’t like to be touched when she was having an episode, everything felt more intense and for some reason it usually amplified the pain. 

“Can I use your hand for a while?” She asked shyly still under the safety of the blankets, he could hear her clearer through the hole she left at the top. 

He felt guilty at the blood that rushed his cock.

“Of course” He said squeezing the right hand that held his left one. 

He allowed her to maneuver his hand so that his left hand was under her head, she placed his fingers at the base of her skull, thumb on one side and his fore finger and pointer finger on the left side.

“Can you keep your fingers like this and apply as much pressure as you can? This are some of my pain points and the right kind of pressure can ease the pain a little, usually I tie a scarf but it isn’t always helpful” she mumbled weakly. 

He was confused. 

“Oh ok..I..I thought-“ 

This wasn’t something he read, though he seen something about heat compress. He was confused because he thought she was going to ask for his hand to give her an orgasm. That was something interesting that he had came across. It said it didn’t work for everyone hence why he was slightly embarrassed to suggest it, he didn’t want her to think he was only thinking with his dick. 

He applied the pressure anyway, happy to help anyway he could.

“Is that good baby?”

“You can press a bit harder” 

He did as she said, feeling her body adjust just the tiniest bit next to him. A soft sigh leaving her lips.

She soft voice thanked him. He hummed a response, his own body adjusting slightly to get more comfortable.  He would lay here as long as she needed.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, she called his name.

“Yea?” He asked feeling more tired himself than what he thought he was when he got home.

“What were you going to say? When I asked for your hand?” She replied softly voice full of the need for sleep.

His felt that fire and a blush come back. He chuckled to himself. Now was good as anytime to confess his unconventional suggest and figure out if it was something helpful to her or if it was something she even heard of before. 

“Uh..I..I had been reading about migraines when you first told me you got them, trying to understand them better-“ He was cut off by a whimper she made, a pitiful sound of endearment. He knew what she was thinking, she was taken back by his willingness to be there for her however he could and that meant trying to understand what she would be going through. He kept going. “And I was reading how orgasms can sometimes help temporarily, but I didn’t want you to think I was just thinking with my dick” he concluded softly. Feeling better about just getting it out and in the open, it didn’t feel so dirty anymore, like he was taking advantage somehow. He knew her better than to think she would think that but it didn’t stop his insecurities about the topic. 

He felt her body stilled.

shit was she mad at him? He felt the slight unease creep into his stomach and his insecurities intensify at the thought that she would be mad at him for suggesting such a thing when he noticed her right hand slip from under the covers. 

Her soft palm facing up and open in a silent question and permission, are you still willing? And of course you can touch me. 

He let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding and gave her his right hand, her soft fingers gently pulled his under the covers, her forearm resting ontop of his own as she slipped his hand under hers to be guided where he couldn’t see. Once his rough fingers tips ghosted over her wet pussy he didn’t need anymore guidance, he knew her too well, maybe better than she knew herself. 

She gasped at the first touch and her hand left his to grip his forearm, as he’d started to explore her wet folds.

“How are you this wet already sweet girl? Hmm? Just can’t help yourself around daddy?” Austin questioned softly from above her, awe clear in his voice. He stayed laid on his left side, careful his body other than his hands didn’t touch her. 

“Fuck” she groaned quietly from under the blankets. “Guess my body always needs you daddy” she moaned out. He groaned as his fingers applied more pressure and speed. 

He felt the twitch in cock as she coated his fingers and moaned softly and weakly. His fingers switching between slow and quick. He was so painfully hard. He had to stay focus this was about her but how could he when her tight wet warm pussy was calling him? Begging for him. Her body was hardly moving just her hips grinding slowly into him.

Even fully covered by a ton of blankets he was still completely in-tune with her body. He didn’t need to see her face though he wished he could to kiss her soft lips, to know the pleasure he was giving her, to know she was close. 

He blindly felt the warmth and wetness of her pussy driving into his hand slowly chasing the pleasure he was somehow able to provide in this state.

“Cum for me pretty girl, take it” he groaned lowly.

She moaned out, she sounded so exhausted and pitiful but he could tell she wanted this, needed it and he was more than happy to give it to her. 

She squealed softly as she rocked against his hand, her body exploding and the sweetness of her drenching his fingers, her face seeking the comfort of his embrace under the blanket, he moved over slightly as his left hand still pressed to the pain points guided her, help her her blanket covered forehead lay against his chest. Her hips kept rocking slowly chasing the feeling.

“There you go baby” his husky voice praised even with a migraine she was still his good girl. So wet and warm and tight for him.

Moments passed with his fingers still cupping her warm sticky folds and the other still applying the pressure she required, neither hand moved as he felt her drift of to sleep, her body finally relaxing from the endorphins of her orgasm. 

Austin woke to the press of a soft warm body slightly on top of his and light kisses and licks against his neck. He stirred and tried to adjust his eyesight to the darkness that had over taking the room. It must be late.

“Hey baby” her voice sounded softly, her lips suddenly near his own. She kissed his plump mouth, pecking kisses over and over. She sounded a lot better.

His arms moved to embrace her, pulling her further ontop of him and as close as he could get her. 

“Hey baby” he replied his eyes seeking hers. The dimmed light from the hallway allowed him to finally see her. Though he didn’t physically see her face earlier, he knew she looked more well rested than she had in the past day or two. Her eyes had a fatigue to them but he was sure that would clear up from the migraine once she got some more rest. All and all she almost looked back to her normal self. 

Her hand snaked up his chest to cup his face.

“Thank you, for everything” she told him a little emotionally.

He brought his lips to her for a passionate kiss, before laying his foreheads on hers.

“You don’t ever have to thank me, I’m yours, that’s what I’m here for, to take care of you” he whispered against her lips.

She pecked his again. 

“And I’m still going to say thank you” she mumbled.

He pinched her side playfully as she laughed and pushed at him.

They just gazed at one another and she had to blink to stop the tears. She had woke to Austin on his back, her body against his. She had unconsciously sought his while she slept as the tension faded from her body and to her surprise his hand was still gripping the back of her head. The pressure had loosed when he eventually fell asleep but his hand was still there nonetheless. She didn’t think she could love the man more and here she was slipping further in the ocean that was Austin and some how she was learning she could breathe underwater. He was everything to her.

“I have a surprise for you sweet boy” she said smiling at him like he hung the moon and she’d die on that hill that he did.

Austin’s chest ached in a good way. He never wanted this to end. Couldn’t imagine it being any other way. Everything that had failed for him relationship wise lead him to this moment with her. He was better for it. 

“Hmm, what’s that?” 

She nodded her head to the side of him and that’s when he noticed the en-suite bathroom door open and the soft glow of candles burning. The scent of oils and salts hitting him. He quickly turned back to her.

“Wh-“ 

“You were knocked out and I wanted to return the love” 

“You little sneak” he accused tickling her sides.

She was quick to scramble away from his hold and climb over him getting to her feet and out of his grasp when his hands followed her as she head toward the bathroom.

She stopped short of the door as she pulled her oversize graphic shirt over her head. 

“I would do that you know, sometimes, never with men though, I hated being touched during my migraines but when it was really bad and I had the energy I would do it myself to help ease the pain” she spoke from the doorway to the bathroom, the soft light surrounding her body, giving a even more beautiful glow to her brown skin. “I didn’t think it would ever work from someone else’s hand, not too sure what that means handsome” she smirked.

So she had done that before he thought but just never with man, no man had ever made her comfortable enough to try let alone achieve bringing her relief. Austin felt those butterflies in this stomach again, he felt a sense a pride swell in his chest. His cock was even stirring again. That’s exactly who he wanted to be for her, the man that gave what she needed, what others couldn’t, he wanted to be the one no other man could compare to. He wanted to be her all.

She smirked at him almost as if she could read his every thought and she could because they mirror her own and how she felt about him.

“Lets go loverboy, it’s time for the real show” 

X

X

ALSO yall don’t have to say anything abt it but i find it helps SOMETIMES but alone so I thought who could make this work for me with another person of course our boy Austin could bc he’s so perfect. He’s the only one I’d let touch me with a migraine lol

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

Read that one with Creator!Reader, who favors Nahida. To be honest! I love her. She is the only one who has tried to help Aether find his sister. And I love Aether, and whoever is kind to him automatically gains my favor.

I haven't finished Fontaine story, so I'm not sure about them.

Nahida Lovers Are gonna be having the Party of a lifetime here 👍 I am going to shove a little bit of Aether into this, but it can also be read as Lumine if other ppl want to :)

Nahida's ALWAYS Off the Hook :D

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

You liked Nahida (platonically, don't get other ideas). She was the only archon that was able to find any information on Aether's sister, and was the only one who made many efforts to find any information regarding Lumine.

It was nice and refreshing for once, to see the Famed Traveler finally getting some help in return of their deeds for the nation. You were so stoked, you started cheering and screaming like this was the best victory you've ever witnessed (it might've actually been).

Nahida, after hearing this, felt even more happy than before. I mean, you were kinda just praising her on the spot for something she thought was just...right to do.

Yet you're making a huge deal out of it. Were the other nations...not that helpful? I mean, the way the Traveler just turned down help and all that was proof, but you praising her for something as simple as this for a "thank you"...Nahida is kinda glad she'll be the first to do it.

It also seems you're starting to favor Nahida alongside the Traveler, which she isn't sure how she feels entirely, but she is for sure happy!

The moment you leave, Nahida's smile is a whole lot bigger, and she's basically grinning from ear to ear. It feels like she truly has spread her wings once the cage was opened. She can only hope her flight can make the Almighty Creator continue to smile and cheer.

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: I really have no clue if this is meeting expectations or not, but I do hope y'all like it! Usually these one characters aren't really something I usually come around in my mailbox, so this was definitely practice for the future lol!

I might open up my mailbox again, but only for a day or two (maybe, no promises for the re-open). I still have a lot of other requests lying in my mailbox, but it's good to have experience out here :D

Anyways, I hope this helps with the Nahida Lovers :) Remember, Nahida is platonic when your reading my blog!

Also, if you're the people waiting for The Lost Divine God of Celestia, I might have to disappoint you in saying that I think I might discontinue the series all together. I have been trying to write the fourth part of the series, but I just come out with nothing in the end. It's kinda depressing seeing the draft in my draft box sobbing. I'm so sorry, but I'll see how I feel about it before I make an official announcement on the matter.

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

[starlightkun]

➠ word count: 22.0k ➠ warnings: cursing, mentions of drinking (there’s a frat party), everything i know about hockey is from internet research for this fic i’m sorry for any inaccuracies i tried ➠ genre: fluff, gets quite suggestive (a heavy makeout scene/near sex scene) but no actual smut, college au, hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), halloween-themed at the beginning, sungchan’s not a frat boy but he’s like... a frat boy by association ➠ extra info: the ages/relative ages of the members in here are whatever i want them to be, don’t read into it too much. this is a very usamerican take on a college au btw. also i call kunhang ‘hendery’ in here like it’s his government name for a one-line gag bc i think i’m hilarious the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines and thoughts/experiences as a chronically ill person are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines and chronic illness, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds ➠ author’s note: hi so this has been a wip for like a year lol. this one long predates sungchan’s deneofication (and subsequent re-debut in riize), hockey player sungchan just lives in my brain rent free ok. anyway, i hope you like ➠ series masterlist

“You agreed to go to a frat party?” Chenle’s eyes were bugging out of his head as he sat across a high top in the dining hall from you. “Do you remember what happened last time, Y/N?”

“Hard to forget,” you snorted.

“And yet it seems you did, somehow, lost in dreamboat Jung Sungchan’s eyes.”

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 24

“Now shoo!” Dr. Son waved the small group of you out of his dimly lit office.

It was Phantasmagorical Phriday, a time-honored tradition going back to your freshman year of university. Dr. Son had been intrigued by the four freshmen who were somehow in his third-year class on Gothic Fiction and actually seemed to “get it.” His “Phantasma Phour” as you dubbed yourselves (a nickname that got quickly worn out, persisting only as the title of your groupchat):

Wong Hendery, who ended up in the class accidentally due to an error on his academic advisor’s part (she had gotten him mixed up with a Wong Henry, a junior Literature major who actually needed to take Dr. Son’s class) and he subsequently changed majors at least three times to your knowledge, so you were genuinely surprised he was graduating on time—he finally settled on Communications;

Jung Sungchan, at the time a promising young rookie hockey player who had now blossomed into your school’s reliable team captain—Biology major, being an athlete meant he could pre-register for classes and he picked Dr. Son’s at random to fulfill a gen ed Literature credit;

Zhong Chenle, an honorary member of both Nu Chi Tau, one of the biggest frats on campus, and the hockey team, as somehow 95% of his social circle were Nu Chi brothers and/or hockey players despite Chenle being neither himself, your best friend and also sometimes you swear a demon sent straight from hell to kill you—Literature major, who bullied you into taking the class; and

You, Chenle’s best friend who used to hate anything and everything Gothic fiction that got bullied into taking it anyway and now adored the genre more than any other—Literature major, who took the last spot in the class on registration day.

Dr. Son would invite you all to monthly extracurricular workshops in his office that built up to this: Phantasmagorical Phriday, a writing competition to see which of the four of you could write the best gothic short story. The stories were actually submitted the prior week, but it was the Friday before Halloween that was dubbed the Phriday in question. The four of you were invited to his office that night after classes (and Sungchan’s hockey practice) to review your pieces: how he thought everyone had improved from last year, discuss the writing process, and to finish off the night, Dr. Son would announce his top two stories. Those in the top two had the chance to send him a persuasive letter about why they should win. They had to be sent to him that night because the next morning, your professor would email the top two individually with the results.

Since this was your last Phantasmagorical Phriday, Dr. Son pretended not to see when Hendery brought out four celebratory White Claws for you all. You still had your warm, unopened, orange-flavored seltzer in your hand as the small group of you left the Literature, Writing, and Foreign Languages building together.

“I still can’t believe you couldn’t find anything classier for our last Phantasmagorical Phriday, Hendery.” You shook your head. “Ever heard of champagne? Literally any wine?”

“So you’re not gonna shotgun that, Y/N, is what I’m hearing?” Hendery teased as you all stopped under the light post right outside the building.

“Is that a challenge or what, Wong?” You scoffed, handing it back to him. “But no, I’m good.”

Sungchan thankfully cut in and changed the topic of conversation, “So are you going to start writing your letter of reconsideration, Y/N?”

This year’s top two were you and Sungchan, the member of the Phantasma Phour you spoke to the least. Outside of the monthly “workshops” (which at this point with your differing majors were just get-togethers of questionable academic value), you never saw him. You obviously saw Chenle all the time, and despite the fact that you considered him a bit obnoxious, you were sort of friends with Hendery, joining him for lunch if you happened to see him at the student union or at the coffee shop on campus. Sungchan was perfectly nice and all, you just found that you never really talked to him like the other two.

You looked down at your watch, taking a quick inhale when you saw the time. You’d stayed in Dr. Son’s office a lot later than you��d realized.

“Oh, no,” you casually waved off Sungchan’s question, readjusting your tote bag on your shoulder. “I’ve got something more pressing right now. Anyway, see you guys. It was a good four years, I’m glad we got to do this.”

Lifting your hand in a wave of finality to the three men, you departed.

“She’s really not going to submit a letter?” Sungchan asked, still watching after you as your figure faded away in the distance.

“Nope,” Chenle shook his head, reaching for the spare White Claw in Hendery’s hand. “Y/N never does.”

“You didn’t know that?” Hendery questioned the hockey player, holding the drink away from Chenle.

“Why not?”

“She’s not in it to win really.” Chenle lunged for the can as Hendery jerked it away at the last second. “Just wants to make stuff.”

“So she was lying about doing something?”

Hendery and Chenle were now running circles around Sungchan in their game of keep-away with the seltzer.

“No.”

“What do you—” Sungchan sighed, yanking the drink from Hendery’s grasp and holding it high above his own head, well out of either of their reaches. “Hey!”

Now with their attention, the hockey captain kept his arm straight up as he returned to his question, “What are you talking about, Chenle?”

“Y/N does have something pressing right now. If I tell you where she’s probably going will you give me the White Claw?” Chenle bargained.

“You’d exchange your best friend’s location for an orange White Claw? Not even watermelon?” Hendery asked incredulously.

“It’s Sungchan, someone we’ve known for like four years, not some creep off the street who’s going to wear her skin.”

“No, Chenle, you don’t have to tell me that,” Sungchan shook his head, offering the can out for either one to take.

The Literature major was able to snatch it first, jumping up in celebration, “Suck an egg, Hendery!”

“I wouldn’t—” Sungchan’s words were too late though, as Chenle had already popped the tab, and the overly-shaken seltzer exploded all over all three of them.

“Zhong Chenle, I’m going to strangle you, you little weasel!”

“Ah! Sungchan, save me!”

“I would, except you got fucking orange White Claw in my eyes and I’m fucking blind now! Goddamn!”

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 25

Rolling over in bed the next morning, you let out a big sigh and buried your face in your pillow, fully intent on going back to sleep. Saturday morning. No school, no work. Just you, your bed, and some much-needed sleep.

Then, the obnoxious blaring of your phone came from your nightstand. You groaned, reaching blindly for the object, and barely opening one eye just enough to snooze it. Damn, you really had slept in, to be woken up by your first medication alarm. Well, you weren’t going to die if you took your morning doses fifteen minutes later than normal. You were about to stuff your phone under your pillow when you briefly caught sight of your lockscreen after the alarm disappeared.

Text notification from Jung Sungchan?

Flopping onto your back and bringing your phone with you, you squinted against the harsh light of your screen to make sure you were reading that right. Yep, Sungchan had definitely texted you a few hours ago, separate from the Phantasma Phour chat. At almost 7:00 a.m., too. What the hell?

Curiosity won out over a need to sleep for fourteen more minutes, and you opened the notification.

[jung sungchan: Congrats, Y/N!]

You stared blankly at the text, your groggy mind desperately grasping around for any sort of context as to why Jung Sungchan would be texting you that at 7:00 a.m. on a Saturday. Then it struck you like lightning, and you let out an audible “Oh, duh!” as you remembered where you both were last night. Phantasmagorical Phriday. The writing contest. You and Sungchan were the top two. Dr. Son must have sent the email out already, and apparently you had won.

Normally, you wouldn’t check your school email on the weekend until Sunday night, unless you were waiting to hear back from a specific professor—and the Sunday night check was just to see if any of your Monday classes were cancelled. Lord knows you definitely wouldn’t have checked it at seven in the morning on a Saturday. You let out a snort of disbelief as you reread the timestamp on the text. But still, it was nice of him. A good show of sportsmanship, as one would expect from the hockey captain.

You quickly checked your own student email, and did in fact see an email from Dr. Son at the very top with the subject ‘PHINAL PHANTASMAGORICAL PHRIDAY RESULTS.’

‘Y/N and Sungchan:

Thank you again for your submissions. I enjoyed working with everyone these four years.

The winner this year is Y/N. Good job.

Dr. Son.’

An amused smile crept across your face at your professor’s usual blunt email style. But this was also some of the nicest feedback he’d given your writing, even when you had won Phantasmagorical Phriday in the past, or in classes that you’d taken from him over the years. Something about it truly did feel... final.

And so with an odd bittersweetness, you drafted an equally short and blunt email back to your professor.

‘Dr. Son:

Thank you for taking us on these past four years. I will never forget the experience.

Y/L/N Y/N.’

Then finally, you went back to the original reason that you were even doing this.

[you: thanks, sungchan!]

Then, your alarm went off again, making you jump out of your skin. Well, time for your morning meds.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 27

A tall figure was nearing the corner table you had claimed in one of the campus coffee shops the following Monday afternoon, and you looked up from your laptop screen, a little surprised at who it was. Jung Sungchan was standing at the end of your table, black flannel over a graphic t-shirt and dark wash jeans, one backpack strap slung over his shoulder. He had an iced coffee in one hand.

You paused the movie playing on your laptop, taking out both your headphones as you looked up at him inquisitively, “Uh hi, Sungchan.”

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Are you here to study or something?”

“Mm.” He couldn’t seem to meet your eyes. “Not really. Just grabbing a coffee and saw you. Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?”

“Oh, sure. I’m waiting out the storm to leave,” you gestured to the near-constant downpour that had started right after you’d arrived over two hours ago. Noticing that some of Sungchan’s hair and shoulders were damp, you added, “The storm you apparently got caught in without an umbrella.”

“Oh, yeah,” he ran a hand through his hair to push some of it away from where it had been falling into his eyes.

“I don’t mind having some company while I wait.”

To your surprise, instead of sitting across from you, Sungchan plopped himself onto the same bench that you were on, one leg slung over either side so he could face you directly.

You picked up the mug in front of you, your second cup of your drink of choice. You’d gotten a refill after it became clear that the rain wasn’t letting up any time soon. Sungchan was already a third of the way done with his iced coffee as you blew over your hot drink before taking a small sip. He glanced up at you, and you felt like you were going to choke on the uncomfortable silence. So you took a gamble. Turning in your seat to face him as well, you hiked a knee up onto the bench, bringing your mug with you.

“Do you want to ask me something, Sungchan?”

The hockey player startled, having to catch himself from nearly choking on his coffee. Seems like you were right. Sungchan finally stopped sucking down his drink, setting it down on the table and wiping his palms on the knees of his jeans. “I heard that you never sent in a letter to Dr. Son. Any year you were a top two.”

“Oh, yeah, nah.”

“Why not?”

“Didn’t seem worth it,” you shrugged.

“What?”

“Every year I participated I wanted my work to stand on its own two legs. After the death of the author, that’s all that’s left, right? The work. It has to speak for itself.”

“Oh,” Sungchan nodded, then squinted his eyes, confusion entirely overtaking his features. “Wait, what?”

“Sorry, I don’t know how much Lit Theory you’ve done. Probably not a lot as a Bio major, huh? Death of the author is both literal and metaphorical. Removing what the author meant to do or say with a text from how you actually interpret the text as the reader. It’s a lot easier when they’re actually dead, but the abstract concept is practiced when they’re alive too. It’s… seeing the text as separate from authorial intent. Mind you, it’s only one tool in a literary critic’s arsenal, but I liked it for our Gothic fiction class. All the authors we read in that class, they’d been gone for a while, we had no way to know what they really meant when they wrote all that stuff. And it didn’t really matter for our purposes. All we did have was what they wrote, and that was enough for me. So the same should be enough for whoever reads the stuff I write. Even if it’s just Dr. Son.”

“Huh.”

“Though I guess I just explained myself a little, oops,” you laughed at yourself, taking another sip from your steaming mug. “I’m getting less and less mysterious by the second, aren't I?”

“Chenle made it sound like you didn’t care about winning,” Sungchan asked, cheek in hand.

You arched an eyebrow at this. “You asked Chenle about me?”

“W-Well you left so fast after we saw Dr. Son, and you two are you know...”

“Oh he’s my best friend,” you clarified for perhaps the ten-thousandth time in your life. “And while others may use any litany of swears for him and Hendery calls him a little weasel, I prefer ‘actual demon sent from Hell to kill me.’”

“What?” Sungchan’s eyes widened.

“He pushes me out of my comfort zone. In a good way, most of the time.”

“Got it. Then what do you do for him? If he’s your yang…”

“I’m entertainment?” You snorted, taking another sip of your drink. After setting it back down, you answered more sincerely, “I’m kidding. Sometimes it feels like that but I did ask him one time a couple years ago, when he was tipsy enough that I believed the words coming out of his mouth but not so drunk that it was unintelligible. ‘A safe place.’ And since then… I can see it in us. That’s my yin to him.”

He smiled softly at you. “That’s... really nice.”

“Sorry, what were you asking me before that?”

“Oh, uh— Chenle said you really didn’t care about winning Dr. Son’s contest, you just wanted to make stuff? That’s why you didn’t submit a letter.”

“Generally, sure. Winning would’ve been great, but I didn’t write what I thought Dr. Son wanted. I took all of his feedback with a grain of salt. Took stuff that I liked from him, took stuff I liked from other profs I had. Mixed and matched to make something that was mine.” You pressed your lips together, then leaned forward like you were about to tell him a secret, “I didn’t live for Phantasmagorical Phriday, Sungchan. You do know that, right?”

“Wow,” he blinked, seeming a bit disoriented. “I’ve never really thought about… you like that.”

“Well to be fair to you, you only ever knew me there and in Dr. Son’s class. Makes it hard not to think of me only through that lens. All you know about me is that I presumably like Gothic fiction and I’m a Lit major, right?”

“Right.”

“So what do you think I was doing here before you showed up?”

“…Reading Edgar Allan Poe.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, turning your laptop screen to show the paused movie to him, “I was watching Pacific Rim.”

His jaw literally dropped, and you felt the need to save him at least a little. Grabbing a book from your bag, you held it up, “I did come here initially to finish reading this new mystery novel I just got, but then the storm came and I had nothing else to do after I was done with the book.”

“But still… you’re so…”

“I have interests outside the one class we took together?”

“Smart,” he finished, an absolutely adorable expression of wonder across his face.

You weren’t expecting that, surprised giggles bubbling up out of you as you felt yourself growing warm under his awestruck gaze.

“Anyway, your turn,” you tapped his knee with your book before putting it back in your bag.

“For what?”

“To expand my horizons of you. All I know about you is that you’re the hockey captain, and a Bio major who took a gothic fiction class one time like three years ago. Show me you’re a multifaceted individual, too.”

“Uhm, that’s about it.”

“Oh come on, Sungchan.”

“No really, if I’m not on the ice, I’m in class; if I’m not in class, I’m with my team; and if I’m not with my team, I’m studying.”

“You’re here, right now,” you pointed out. “Last I checked I’m not on your hockey team, and we’re not studying. You have to do one thing that’s not for school or hockey. My thing was just watching Pacific Rim this one time, remember?”

“Alright…” he paused to think, fingers tapping along his thighs. “I used to play the piano.”

“Past tense, but I’ll accept it. When did you stop?”

“High school? Around when piano lessons and hockey practice started conflicting.”

“And you chose hockey?” You asked, hoping it didn’t sound judgmental. You really were just curious, trying to understand him.

“Actually, the choice was made for me.” He held his right hand out in front of you, and it was then that you saw his pinky finger was unnaturally crooked as he pointed to the digit. “I broke it in a game without even realizing it. Bruises and stiffness sometimes are normal so me and my parents didn’t know anything was up until weeks later when I was fucking up all the notes at my piano lessons because it still hurt. By the time I finally saw a doctor and got a splint on it, it set up wrong. All dexterity for piano out the window. Hockey on the other hand… guys have done a lot more with a lot less.”

You couldn’t help but curiously run a gentle fingertip over the crook in his pinky. “Does it hurt at all? Now?”

“Not really.” He went to bend and flex the fingers of his right hand, and you saw how the fifth finger didn’t curl up as much as the others. “It’s just a lot stiffer. Doesn’t bother me all that much.”

He brought his left hand up and wiggled the fingers on that hand. “Besides, I’m a lefty anyway.”

“So—apologies if this sounds like a stupid question to you, I don’t know anything about hockey—are there like, different hockey sticks for left-handed and right-handed players?”

Sungchan immediately broke into snickers, and you set down your mug to cross your arms over your chest indignantly.

“Hey, I didn’t laugh at you for not knowing what death of the author was—”

“I wasn’t making fun of you, I’m sorry,” he covered his mouth. “That was just… too cute. Uhm yes, there are lefty and righty sticks.”

You had to bite down your bottom lip to not smile at him calling you cute, and instead keep up your ruse of being offended. “I feel patronized.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” There was still a hint of a giggle in his tone, and you felt your self-righteous façade slip away as he continued, “You should come to a game, then, if you really want to broaden your horizons. The season just started. First home game is this Thursday, actually. 7:00 p.m. and students get free admission with your student ID.”

“Thursday?”

“Fridays are for basketball, Saturdays are for football.”

“Oh. Right.”

“You don’t go to those games either, do you?”

“Oh no, did I make it obvious?” You asked sarcastically.

“A bit,” Sungchan jested back.

Outside the window visible past Sungchan, the rain had let up a few minutes ago, and you briefly glanced over at your laptop for the time. Shit, your next alarm was going to be going off soon. If you left now, you should be home at roughly the right time for your next dose.

Clicking your tongue, you started packing up your things, “Well, looks like the rain’s finally let up enough to allow me safe passage. That’s my cue.”

“Oh.” The hockey player with you looked over his shoulder at the newly sunny day outside before turning back to watch you put your things away.

“Are you heading out too?” You nodded to his empty cup.

“I’ve uh, got some homework to do.”

“Guess this is where we part ways then.”

“Um, you didn’t say if you were going. To the game.”

You tucked your chin to your chest to hide your smitten smile as you put your laptop in your bag. Typically just asking for the details would’ve been taken for a yes, but Sungchan wanted extra confirmation. This boy wasn’t good for your heart, truly.

Turning back to him, you gave him a firm and nearly business-like nod. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

A bright grin lit up his features. “Okay! Great! Uhm, feel free to bring some friends, I know just sitting in the stands by yourself might be lonely.”

“I’ll see if I can drag somebody else out. It’ll be a tall order, though. Literature majors, you know, we prefer our Shakesperean poetry readings.”

“Oh, well—”

“I’m kidding,” you laughed and stood then, slinging your tote onto your shoulder. “Honestly, have you seen Chenle at a rager? Boy can drink twice his body weight I swear. He shouldn’t, but he can.”

Before you could reach for your cup and saucer to buss your place, the hockey captain spoke up, “I’ll take care of your mug, don’t worry.”

“Oh, thanks, Sungchan! I’ll see you Thursday then.”

“Bye…” Sungchan trailed off, watching the door long after it had closed behind you.

He didn’t actually have any homework to do, and scrolled on his phone for a few minutes to make sure you were out of the area before leaving himself. He grabbed his long-empty plastic cup and your mug. His went in the trash, and as he went to put yours up with the other dishes and trays, his eyes were caught by the iridescent glitters left behind on the rim by your lip gloss.

[you: hey what are you doing thursday at 7:00?]

[chenle: depends on what weird poetry reading you’re trying to drag me to]

[you: not this time. Sungchan’s hockey game?]

[chenle: you want to go to a sporting event?? why????]

[you: i told him i’d go please don’t make me go by myself]

[chenle: did you offer to go or did he ask you to come?]

[you: he asked me to? i guess?]

[chenle: haha yeah fuck no i’m not going with you]

[you: why not????????]

[chenle: a guy invited you to one of his games? yeah no way am i coming with you]

[you: what difference does that make? you’re seriously going to make me go to a hockey game by myself?]

[chenle: i don’t know how to tell you this gently so: he wants to fuck you]

[you: bro???]

[chenle: especially hockey? caveman brain is activated, he wants to show off how big and strong he is for you over the other males]

[you: damn can’t believe i just blinked and woke up in 200 BC]

[chenle: i’m warning you, only go if you’re ready for the consequences. i.e., that]

[you: so you’re not coming with me]

[chenle: no <3]

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 30

Your chronically early self had gotten there as soon as the doors opened to spectators in order to scope out the perfect spot for yourself. Somewhere not too close to any speakers, where you could still see what was going on, hopefully somewhere Sungchan could maybe see you, but you could make a quick escape if need be. A lot of parameters, hence the need to be early. That meant that you got to watch the visiting team warm up first, and now your school’s team was warming up before the game. Finally the stands started filling up, and you had to do a double-take at the newest figure entering.

“Zhong Chenle, you lying little bitch!” You cursed out your best friend who was approaching you.

He immediately went to defend himself as he plopped down beside you, “Look, I told you I wasn’t going with you, not that I wasn’t going at all. Come on, Lit major.”

He finished off with a solid knock on your head, which didn’t hurt all that much through the beanie you were wearing, but you still slapped his arm away with a glare.

“Are you sure you want to live until graduation day? I can’t tell sometimes.”

“Half the team are Nu Chi guys,” Chenle explained his being there, then waved at one of the players skating by, 23, who gave a salute back. “Jeno.”

“Oh.” You belatedly waved too, but your friend had already turned back to warming up.

Chenle then gave you the run-down on all your friends and acquaintances’ numbers as he spotted them.

“Goalie. Sicheng, 7.” He just blocked a shot from a familiar number, 23. “Already told you, 23 is Jeno. Right wing.”

“Does he always suck?”

“Here’s Ten, number 10. Right defense. He’s never told me which came first, his nickname or his jersey number.”

Sicheng blocked Ten’s shot.

“2 is Mark, center.” His went in.

“66, Donghyuck, center alternate.” His also went in.

“24, that’s Yangyang, left wing—and a miss!”

“This doesn’t bode well that so many of our players apparently kind of suck.” You muttered to yourself, well aware that Chenle was no longer listening to you.

Finally, the tallest of the team was skating up to take a shot. “And there’s your guy, Y/N. Number 27, Jung Sungchan, left defense, captain, your dreamboat—”

“If you don’t shut up—”

“Oh! All net!”

“Isn’t that a basketball—”

“Hey, you got your earplugs, right?”

“Yep, same ones for concerts,” you confirmed, reaching into your purse for them. You hadn’t been able to take your full tote bag into the school sporting event, so you had to condense the essentials into your smaller purse.

“Good, because uh, it’ll get loud.”

“I figured.”

“Yeah, remember how half the team are Nu Chi guys?”

Your eyes widened in realization, “Oh god.”

“Here they come!”

Whipping around to face the same direction he was looking, you saw a horde of about ten to fifteen guys storming the rink, practically shaking the audience section. They were all donned in blue and orange, your university’s colors, various hockey or Nu Chi merch and paraphernalia, and you would’ve absolutely bet money that at least three of them had Nu, Chi, and Tau symbols painted across each of their chests under their shirts. Chenle leapt up to greet them all, the volume of the area immediately rising tenfold at least.

You recognized most of the Nu Chi frat brothers, they were mutual friends or acquaintances of yours through Chenle over the years, and there were even some familiar graduated faces. Lee Taeyong was the first to pick up on your presence, squeezing past Jisung—a new pledge that had glommed onto Chenle in particular—to plop down behind your seat.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” Taeyong asked you with a tilted head. “Not exactly a good place for you, is it?”

Taeyong was frat president for your first two years of college and his last two. You had an absolute disaster at a Nu Chi party in your freshman year that he was witness to. Ever since then, when you would see him in passing at other lowkey (or as lowkey as frat functions could get) Nu Chi events that Chenle took you to during those two years, you always got the distinct impression that he was keeping an eye on you during them.

“Could be asking you the same thing, Taeyong,” you countered, fully turning around in your seat to chat with the man. “Didn’t you graduate two years ago? You don’t have anything better to do on a Thursday night? Like your taxes or something?”

“Us old-timers who peaked in college like to come back and re-live our glory days vicariously for the first home game,” he entertained your jibe, making you giggle. “And somebody’s got to be these kids’ DD. They always go at it too hard after the first game. Win or lose.”

Johnny, another graduated Nu Chi brother, spoke up then, eyes laser-focused on you, “So Chenle’s finally dragged you out to a game, Y/N?”

You immediately looked at your friend with wide eyes, knowing what the answer was, and exactly what reaction said answer would garner. Chenle, on the other hand, seemed all too thrilled to join in, turning to face you with his hands on his hips and a knowing smirk on his face.

“Oh no, I didn’t bring Y/N. She actually didn’t know I was coming at all. I found her here all on her own,” he announced to all the guys, who were hanging on to every word he said. If literally anything else were happening, you might’ve laughed at how they were all wrapped around his finger.

“No offense, but you don’t really seem like you’re interested in hockey,” Jungwoo, a junior who you’d shared a couple literature classes with, said curiously.

You sighed, giving Chenle a frank look before admitting, “Jung Sungchan invited me.”

They exploded with various hoots, hollers, whoops, and whistles.

With a shake of your head, you turned back around to look back at the players on the ice, knowing full well that there was nothing you could do alleviate—or even really participate in—the absolute chaos that was happening behind you.

Eventually, the game started. Taeyong, who had moved to sit on your other side from Chenle, quietly explained the basics of what was going on to you: positions, plays, scoring, why the referee made certain calls. Chenle was caught between cheering along with the other Nu Chi guys and rattling off hyper-specific stats on individual players to you, so you were truly grateful to have Taeyong giving you your “hockey for dummies” tips and tidbits throughout.

You kept your eyes on number 27, as Chenle had pointed him out to you earlier. The gear made it somewhat difficult for you to really recognize any distinguishing features about Sungchan himself except maybe his height, made even greater by the skates he was wearing. But as much as the intellectual side of you might’ve hated to admit it, there was definitely some part of you that very much enjoyed watching him play; that got some kind of thrill every time somebody tried to check him and he didn’t budge—or when he checked somebody and they most definitely did budge.

Before you knew it, all three periods were over, and you were jumping to your feet along with the others, cheering wildly. Your school won by a landslide.

“Oh, they’re going to get plastered,” Taeyong murmured from beside you fondly.

All of you had been in the cheering section milled around in the ice rink lobby waiting for the team to get out of the locker room.

“That was fun,” you declared to Chenle as the two of you stood off to the side from the larger group of loud Nu Chi brothers.

“Yeah, you didn’t seem like you were listening to a word I said.”

“Because you were telling me sports stats, Chenle, I’m surprised my brain didn’t start bleeding out of my ears.”

“Well I’m surprised your nose wasn’t bleeding watching your dreamboat Jung Sungchan beat up all those other guys,” Chenle teased. “200 BC called, they want their cavewoman back—”

You lunged at him, managing to get an arm around his throat in the beginnings of a questionably friendly chokehold, “I’m going to kill you, you little—”

“No murder in the rink!” Came the chastising voice of Johnny Suh from afar, and you reluctantly let him go.

The players started streaming out of the locker room soon after, and you nervously scanned the crowd for Sungchan. Chenle was easily dragged into the chaos of everyone celebrating, leaving you standing off to the side waiting.

Finally, you spotted him. Sungchan was wearing a simple pair of black sweatpants and black hoodie with your school’s name embroidered across the front, his hair a bit mussed up. He was deep in conversation with Sicheng, brow furrowed. The goalie’s features were similarly serious as they gestured to each other. You stayed put, not wanting to interrupt. Taeyong had mentioned that Sicheng was sort of like a co-captain, you guessed they might be doing something important.

Then you’d suddenly made eye contact with Sicheng, who was facing you. He gave you a casual head nod, and said something to Sungchan you couldn’t quite make out. The captain whipped around, a bright smile coming to his face as soon as his eyes landed on you. You lifted your hand to give him a small wave and smile back.

Sungchan quickly ended his conversation with Sicheng, making his way over to where you were standing by a wall.

“Hey, Y/N,” he was still smiling down at you, his eyes practically glittering even in the harsh fluorescents of the lobby. “So you really made it out.”

“I said I would.” You fidgeted with the straps of your bag.

“And…?”

You tilted your head, “And?”

“What did you think? You know, are your horizons super broad now or something?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. His phrasing was funny, but also remembering how he played and was now giving you his undivided attention admittedly made your chest flutter.

“It was good, yeah. I had fun,” you confirmed. “You uhm, you played really good. I think.”

“Thanks,” Sungchan scratched at the back of his neck, and you swore the tips of his ears were pink, but that could’ve just been the cold. “Did you drive yourself?”

“Walked, my apartment is close.”

“Uh, so, we all go out to a bar after games usually. It’s kind of a sleazy dive bar, and I know it’s a Thursday, but I’d really like for you to come. I’ll buy you a dr—”

“I’m really sorry, Sungchan, but I can’t. I’d love to, but…” You trailed off, wracking your brain for some concise way to explain why he couldn’t buy you a drink.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” Sungchan assured you, and you winced at the way the hopeful smile fell from his face.

An awkward silence descended over the two of you. You were chewing on your bottom lip, desperately trying to think of something to say to gloss over your rejecting his offer. You didn’t want to end the conversation on such a sour note, nor did you want to leave him just yet either. Stealing a glance at the clock above you on the wall, however, you knew that you’d need to be going soon anyway.

The hockey player was the one who ended up breaking the silence, “Can I walk you home? It’s late for you to be out by yourself.”

A relieved smile overtook your features, and you hoped he could see the sincerity in it, “Sure, thank you. Let me let Chenle know he’s relieved of his man-shaped friend duties for the night, and we can go.”

You got on your tiptoes to look around for your friend, finally spotting him in a headlock by Jeno, with Yangyang giving him a noogie. They all seemed to be laughing, so it didn’t look too much like bullying that you felt the need to intervene.

“You know, I’ll just text him, actually,” you chuckled, bringing out your phone to do just that.

“Man-shaped friend duties?” Sungchan questioned as the automatic doors parted for the two of you.

“His words, not mine,” you snorted. “But you know, making sure a woman doesn’t walk places by herself at night, that kind of stuff. Having a man just with her makes her safer, as fucked up as that is. Chenle corrected it to be man-shaped since he’s not the manly protective type.”

“I see.”

“But it looks like you’re on man-shaped friend duties for tonight, Sungchan.”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, you wanted to stuff them back in. Friend. God, that was absolutely not what was happening here and you knew it. Chenle’s previous texts flashed across your mind. You obviously knew why Sungchan would’ve wanted to invite you to his game, and you said yes purposefully. Friend. Foot, meet mouth.

Sungchan blinked down at you, but seemed to take it in stride, “Of course, Y/N. Anytime you need a man-shaped person at your side, just call me up. I’ll bring my hockey stick.”

He patted his gear bag that was slung over his shoulder, making you giggle.

“I’ll keep you on speed dial, then.”

It was a short walk to your apartment, and you and Sungchan mostly talked about the game. You asked him a couple questions that Taeyong hadn’t covered during it— which Chenle might’ve, except you had tuned him out. And as you came to a stop at your front door, you didn’t yet fish your keys from your bag.

“How often do you have away games?” You asked.

“They’re usually about half,” Sungchan shrugged. “It’s a bit annoying missing classes, and the bus is kind of rank on the trip back.”

“Ew…” You wrinkled your nose.

“But they’re always a lot of fun.”

“So, uhm, when’s your next home game?”

His face brightened as he seemed to realize what exactly you were asking, “Next week. Same time.”

“Okay, cool.” You bit your lip.

“Cool,” he echoed.

You looked up at Sungchan, catching his eyes for a heart stopping moment. Both of you were standing on your welcome mat, he was close enough that you could catch a faint whiff of the detergent from his clothes—a college athlete with freshly washed clothes? You might already be in love—and watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed. You had the urge to grab him by the front of his hoodie and yank him—

A garish, blaring ringing going off interrupted your split-second pros and cons weighing that had been going on. Sungchan startled at the noise, reminding you very much of a baby moose in the moment. You groaned as you reached into your bag for your phone.

“Oh my god, stop it,” you hissed under your breath as you snoozed the alarm that was going off on there. Once it was quiet, you looked back up at the man with you sheepishly, “Sorry about that.”

He joked, “Curfew?”

You laughed lightly, “No, just a reminder for something I have to do after I get home. It’s fine.”

“Well, before you go do that, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Nu Chi and the team are hosting a joint Halloween party this year, and I’d really like it if I could see you there.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow, people will probably start showing up after like ten, eleven. It’s at the Nu Chi house, theirs is bigger than ours.”

“Fascinating phrasing,” you snickered.

“I know this is last minute, so I get if you have other plans or something.”

“I… can probably swing by for a bit, yeah,” you nodded.

“Great!” Sungchan beamed. “Oh, it is a costume party, by the way.”

“Costume?” You arched a brow. “What’ll you being going as? And please don’t say hockey player.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Definitely not… that would be lame…”

“You were planning on going as a hockey player, weren’t you?”

“Me and Mark have been putting all our spare time into planning this thing, I haven’t had any time to think about a costume.”

“Well you’ve given me 24-hour notice for a costume, so this is your 24-hour notice for one too. When I find you at the Nu Chi house tomorrow, I do not want to see a hockey jersey, Jung Sungchan. Any sports player is off-limits, understand?” You poked his chest with finality.

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded in assent.

Just then, your alarm went off again, and this time you jumped out of your skin. Apparently, another 5 minutes had elapsed. With a sigh, you reached into your bag for your keys.

“I should let you go do that thing,” Sungchan chuckled. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Sungchan,” you unlocked your front door. “See you tomorrow.”

Sitting at your kitchen table a couple minutes later, you were looking down at the vitals displayed on the screen of your blood pressure cuff.

“Jung Sungchan…” you muttered to yourself as you added the reading to your digital record, noting how the line graph jumped up with the new data.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 31

“You agreed to go to a frat party?” Chenle’s eyes were bugging out of his head as he sat across a high top in the dining hall from you. You two were grabbing a quick lunch between classes, and doing an obligatory catch-up on how your short but sweet walk with Sungchan went last night. “Do you remember what happened last time, Y/N?”

“Hard to forget,” you snorted.

“And yet it seems you did, somehow, lost in dreamboat Jung Sungchan’s eyes.”

You threw a fry from his plate at him, “It wasn’t like that!”

He ducked, letting it sail by his head and hit the wall behind him.

“Then what was it like?”

“It was more like a big puppy that I couldn’t say no to and—”

You were cut off by loud gagging noises from your friend, and went to kick him under the table, but missed and hit his chair leg instead. He still got the message, quieting down to let you continue.

“I told him I’d be able to just pop in for a bit. I’ll be in and out before it’ll get too bad.”

“Famous last words...”

“Hold on, LeLe,” you grabbed your friend’s arm to stop him on the sidewalk in front of the Nu Chi Tau frat house.

Taking another look into your tote bag, you made sure once again that you had everything you could possibly need tonight. Medications, snacks, water bottle, ear plugs, the usual. After closing the snaps on the bag, you nervously fidgeted with the hem of your costume. Generic witch, it was the last thing the costume store had in your size that wasn’t garishly scary. You understood well and good how college Halloween parties worked: you had to look hot, not terrifying. Not to mention that those horror show costumes were also much pricier than your “Sexy Witch” one.

“You look cute, Y/N,” Chenle reassured you, readjusting your witch hat for you. “Jung Sungchan won’t know what hit him.”

Chenle, on the other hand, was an almost scarily realistic zombie. If you hadn’t spent an ungodly amount of time hanging out on his bathroom counter this afternoon watching him apply the SFX makeup himself, you would’ve thought he had hired a professional makeup artist to do it. He’d always gone ham on Halloween since you two were kids, ever since he figured out how to make a Transformers costume out of cardboard boxes in primary school. You usually participated in partner costumes with him, but you really didn’t want him to make you a gross-looking zombie tonight.

“Thanks.” You gave him as confident a smile as you could muster.

Resecuring your grip on your go bag, you started up the walkway to the house with your friend.

You had been able to faintly hear the thumping bass of the music from outside, but once inside, you were almost immediately hit by a wall of music. Just inside the front door you were faced with a mass of people in bright costumes, flashing lights, corny Halloween decorations of cobwebs, spiders, ghosts, and pumpkins all over the walls.

Chenle looked over at you expectantly, “Y/N?”

“I couldn’t find my concert earplugs, only my noise canceling. I won’t be able to hear anybody unless they’re shouting at me if I put those in,” you replied, having to raise your voice to make sure he heard you. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay…” He sighed and grabbed your elbow. “Come on, let’s find a quieter spot in the house then.”

You gave him a thumbs up and bright grin, already feeling your ears acclimate to the loudness. You could totally do this. It was one night, and you were just going to see Sungchan for a bit then go. Pop in then back out, just like you said.

You didn’t have to wait long to spot Sungchan. Chenle had barely tugged you into the next room over from the small foyer when a familiar head was visible over the crowd, his bright smile focused on you.

“Hey, Y/N!” Sungchan grinned down at you. He was dressed in a suit and tie, what you were guessing was probably his only set, and his hair was parted to one side, styled off of his face. The tie had already been loosened, and the tuck of his dress shirt wasn’t so crisp.

“Hi, Sungchan,” you smiled up at him, amazed that you could hear anything over both the music and now your heart beating so loudly in your ears.

“So you did find a costume.”

“Oh, yeah,” you messed with the hem of your skirt. “Last one at the shop.”

“You look great.” He was still beaming down at you, and you could feel your skin growing warmer. “I’m really glad you could make it.”

“Thanks. Uhm, so what are you? Funeral director?”

“What? No, I’m—” His sentence stopped in its tracks as he looked down at the front of his suit jacket. He started patting his empty breast pocket, then other jacket pockets, then pants pockets, then looked around on the floor. “Fuck.”

“What?” You looked around under your feet, but weren’t able to see anything other than the usual party debris. “Did you lose something?”

Sungchan looked back up at you, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I was about to say that I’m Mulder from the X-Files. But I’ve apparently lost my fake FBI badge. So it looks like I’m a funeral director now.”

You giggled. “Maybe you can be Mulder when he retires and buys a funeral home.”

“Yeah, the perfect costume. Won’t take too long to explain to anybody, they’ll get it immediately,” he laughed.

“Hey, I’m just glad you didn’t wear a jersey.”

“I’m nothing if not a man of my word.”

“Oh, have you seen Chenle’s makeup by the—” But when you turned around to gesture to your friend, you found that he had disappeared, leaving you and the hockey captain all alone.

“Chenle?” Sungchan asked with a tilted head. “I didn’t even realize he was here yet.”

You shook your head fondly at your friend’s antics. Well, you’d have to thank him later.

“He must have gone to get a drink or something. Either way, it seems I’ve been abandoned.”

“Well, you can come hang out with me and some of the guys, if you want?” He offered.

“Yeah, I’d really like that,” you nodded, readjusting your bag to make sure it was pulled in tight to your body.

Sungchan led you through the frat house with a hand on the small of your back, and you snuck a glance up at him when he went to greet someone who had called his name as you passed by. He kept you tucked into his side as he slowed to give the guy a friendly slap on the shoulder. As soon as Sungchan had stopped to say hello, two more people appeared seemingly from nowhere, eagerly greeting him as well. You faintly recognized one, Jisung, a new Nu Chi pledge. He’d been at the hockey game you went to, and always found Chenle at Nu Chi events that you tagged along to. You looked up at Sungchan’s animated, handsome face again as he continued talking.

“This is Y/N.” Sungchan’s voice suddenly pulled you into the conversation. You snapped your focus down from his face to the other three that were in front of you, and realized that they all definitely knew that you’d been staring.

“Oh, hi.” You gave the three boys a nervous smile.

“Y/N, this is Jisung, Shotaro, and Renjun. Jisung and Shotaro are Nu Chi pledges, Renjun’s a sophomore brother, and he’s—you’re a Literature major, right, Renjun?”

“Yes.” One of them nodded.

“Renjun’s a Literature major too, Y/N,” Sungchan finished the introduction.

“Cool, cool,” you nodded. It had been Shotaro that called Sungchan over in the first place, you were pretty sure.

“Anyway, thanks for the offer, guys, but I already promised Hyuck I would, so we’ve got to go.”

Sungchan ushered you away to the tune of a chorus of disappointed groans from the three boys, and you wracked your brain to see if you could recall hearing any sort of proposition from them. But nope, between the loud music and your prior lack of attention to the conversation, you had nothing.

“What did they want?” You gave up and finally asked Sungchan.

“Beer pong. Hope you don’t mind that I declined. I’ve already had a couple and am not looking to get wasted quite yet.”

“Oh, no, not at all,” you shook your head. Thank god you didn’t have to deal with that yet. “Not really my thing anyway. Terrible hand-eye coordination.”

Sungchan seemed about to say something when someone walked by you with an exceptionally pungent cologne. The whiff shot directly to your head like a bullet, the sharp pain making you wince and hiss. It took everything in you not to cover your nose like Edward Cullen and instead shift to breathing through your mouth for a few moments.

“Y/N? You okay?” Sungchan’s voice was clearly concerned.

The sharp pain was gone just a couple moments after it had registered, and you opened your eyes up again, giving him a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, don’t know what that was.”

“Okay, good.” He squeezed your shoulder before dropping his hand back down to your back and continuing your trek through the Nu Chi house.

You and Sungchan finally made it to a room adjacent to the main living room, where there were a couple of beat-up old couches and lots of Nu Chi Tau paraphernalia. The bass of the music playing in the next room over would occasionally make the picture frames and plaques on the walls rattle, and you could hear every word of the songs crystal clear, even though the room that you were in was packed to the brim with partygoers as well. Sungchan stopped you at a group of people gathered around one of the couches, tapping the shoulders of two of them who had their backs to you. Donghyuck and Hendery turned around, immediately parting to make room for the both of you in the group upon seeing you.

Almost everyone in the group was familiar to you either as friends or acquaintances. Your social circle was big thanks to Chenle, who was friends with practically the entire hockey team and Nu Chi house, despite being a member of neither. But now you didn’t have your best friend at your side, just Sungchan and your tote bag, both of which you were keeping close to you.

“Oh shit, Y/N!” Hendery grinned, pulling you into a one-armed hug of greeting. “Damn, it really is you!”

“Yeah, I’m a witch, not a ghost, Hendery,” you retorted jokingly. He was dressed as Prince Eric, if you weren’t mistaken.

“Well, when Sungchan said you were coming, some of us were a bit... skeptical.”

Someone dressed as Venom cut in from Hendery’s other side sharply, “No, I believe you said ‘never in a million fucking years, loverboy.’”

The rest of the group erupted in tipsy snickers and ‘ooh’s, and you felt Sungchan jostle a little as someone had presumably given him a teasing shove.

“Alright, guys. You can cut it out now,” Sungchan spoke over them authoritatively. He then looked down to you, features softening. “Sorry. Anyway, this is Donghyuck, he’s on the team and in Nu Chi—”

He pointed to the boy right next to him, wearing a very classic vampire costume splattered with a little bit of fake blood or fruit punch (you couldn’t tell in the poor lighting), and you wondered if he had also gone to a Halloween store last-minute like you. You knew him both from the game, and from a couple times you’d seen him with Chenle outside of frat or hockey events.

“Mark, frat president and he’s on the hockey team—” He was next to Donghyuck, dressed as Spiderman. You were already familiar with Mark, both from the game, and a group project in a class last year. You wondered if Mark remembered that.

“Ten, hockey and Nu Chi—” Ten was reclined on the couch, a top hat that had presumably been on his head earlier now resting on his propped up knee. Between that and his eyepatch, he clearly was dressed as some character that you couldn’t identify in the moment. You knew Ten outside of hockey, the frat, or even Chenle. He was a Lit major, so you had shared classes and study groups over the years. He raised a friendly hand in greeting.

“Sicheng, my co-captain and he’s in Nu Chi, too—” He was on the couch with Ten, sequestered to one corner as his teammate was taking up most of the space with his legs. Sicheng was dressed up as an angel, fake wings, little halo, and all. And you knew Sicheng through Ten, they’d been roommates since freshman year and could often be found together around campus. He gave you a nod of familiarity.

“Dejun, Nu Chi—” Sungchan had finally reached the man who was dressed as Venom.

“And you of course, unfortunately, know Hendery, Nu Chi.”

“Oh, boo, Sungchan,” Hendery stuck his tongue out at the captain.

You smiled and nodded a little bit at everyone else, but you were finding it hard to concentrate with the music in the background. Did it really need to be that loud?

“Y/N?” The sound of your name snapped your focus up, and you looked around for the source.

A few of the guys had gone back to their own conversations. Sungchan was looking down at you, head tilted inquisitively. Presumably he had been to the one to say your name.

“Oh, sorry,” you tried to give a nonchalant chuckle, but it was getting harder and harder to even articulate yourself with all the stimulation. “The music...”

“Oh!” Sungchan perked up at this. “Do you want to go dance?”

He was offering a hand out to you, and you stared down at it, mouth opening and closing as your brain felt like it was moving through sludge. You quite literally could not process what that string of words actually meant for a good second, and then it took even longer for you to even tie together the right way for you to respond. Cognitive fatigue. Oh this was not good. You squeezed your eyes shut, then open.

You again gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I’m- I’m kind of light-headed right now. Could you get me something to drink?”

His features immediately turned concerned. “Of course. Do you need to sit down or a ride h—”

“Can you just get me a drink?” Your brain was stuck in a perpetual loop now that it had locked onto one task. It took all of your energy just to regulate your tone enough to keep your voice (hopefully) as sweet as possible, despite the fact that you had cut him off.

“Of course. I’ll be right back.” He squeezed your upper arm reassuringly before taking off.

Your eyes were fixated on the spot where he had just been, your vision seeming to continuously zoom in and past your head. Squeezing your eyes shut once more, you took a deep breath through your mouth to try to recenter yourself. But it didn’t help any. Your head felt like a balloon that someone was overinflating, and you knew exactly what was coming next. You swallowed thickly, taking a second to look through the crowd. Nope, you couldn’t wait for Sungchan. Not like you could even verbalize much of anything right now. You had to go take your medication.

So you hurried into the crowd, clutching your tote bag to your chest like your life depended on it—which it really did. Mumbling ‘excuse me’s to everyone you shouldered, bumped into, or stepped on the toes of, you finally made it to a door that you were pretty sure was a bathroom. You tried the handle first, and when it gave in, you still knocked as you opened it, just in case. It was miraculously empty. Maybe there really was a God. Then, the balloon started to deflate, the pressure in your head inverted, becoming a harsh, squeezing pain instead. Nope, nope, definitely not a God. Or at least not a benevolent one.

You locked the door behind you with clumsy fingers and shuffled over to the sink. The countertop was in good enough condition for you to toss your bag up there and start rooting around through it. Bottle after bottle after bottle, then you finally secured the right two. You shook out a pill from one, then a pill from the other. The lights above the mirror were becoming more insufferable by the second. You cracked open the fresh bottle of water you had stored in your bag too, and knocked both pills back in one big gulp.

Tossing the water back into your bag, you could fucking finally flip the switch and turn the lights in the bathroom off. After feeling your way along the wall, you eventually found the bathtub, and sat yourself down. The music was somewhat muffled in here, and you figured this was going to be the darkest room in the whole Nu Chi house. Right now, your plan was to wait in here for your medication to kick in and hopefully stop this migraine before it really got going. Then you could make your great escape, and send Sungchan some bullshit apology text later. After tossing your witch hat to the ground vaguely beside your bag, you gently rested your head against the cool tile of the shower with a sigh. Chenle was right, you shouldn’t have come. Cynically, you thought that you should have timed it. See how long you lasted before you got a migraine. You’d be surprised if that was even 15 minutes.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Sungchan returned to the group with your requested drink in hand and another for himself, frowning when he immediately noticed your absence. “Hey, where’d Y/N go?”

“Oh, shit, uh…” Mark looked around with a baffled look on his face. “No clue dude, she was just here a second ago.”

“I’m going to go find her. Here.” He shoved both drinks into Hendery’s hands.

“Sungchan, come on, take a hint, man,” Donghyuck sighed, patting the taller boy’s shoulder sympathetically.

“What?”

“She asked you to get her something to drink and then slipped away when nobody was looking.”

“Y/N’s not like that.”

“And denial’s a river in Egypt.”

“No, she hasn’t been feeling well all night. I think. I’m going to go look for her.”

“So you’re admitting that you make her physically ill.”

“Dude, you’re just asking to get your shit rocked, you know that, right?” Ten warned him.

“Hey, I’m standing up for women—”

Mark cut him off, “Hyuck, you’re on your own if Sungchan decides to fuck your shit up. I don’t care if you’re my little, I’m not—”

“Oh, wahhh, my big strong big won’t protect me.”

“Christ, I swear he’s only had like four shots and a couple…”

His friends’ voices quickly faded into the din of the party as Sungchan pushed through the crowd. He couldn’t spot you, but found maybe the next best thing.

“Hey, Chenle.” He grabbed him by the elbow, turning him away from the arm wrestling competition between Jeno and Yangyang that he was spectating. Or, he at least hoped this was Chenle, it was a bit hard to tell with the zombie makeup.

“Hey, Romeo!” Chenle greeted him jovially, punching him in the shoulder over-zealously. Okay, definitely him.

“Have you seen Y/N? In the past like, five minutes or so?”

“You lost her?” The zombie asked angrily, cheerful mood immediately soured.

“Uh, yes? Sorry?”

“No, I’m not pissed at you,” he shook his head at Sungchan’s apology. “You go check the bathrooms, I’ll look outside. Don’t bother calling her, she’s not going to pick up.”

“What’s—”

But Chenle was already gone.

You weren’t sure how long you had been sitting in there for, but you could feel some of the overstimulation from the party beginning to slide off of you. Which could be either a good or bad thing. Cognitive fatigue was usually a prodrome and postdrome for you. Regaining some clarity could either mean that your medication was working and the migraine was going away, or you were about to enter the proper migraine phase. The fact that the pain hadn’t gone away was worrying. But at least it was dark, and relatively quiet. Oh, quiet... you could put in your earplugs now too.

Just as you had gone to grab for your bag, there was a knock at the bathroom door. You froze. Shit.

“Occupied!” You yelled out hesitantly to them, wincing at the loudness of your own voice. Okay, ow.

The person knocked again, harder.

“Seriously! Busy in here! Puking my brains out!” You yelled even louder, hoping they got the fucking idea this time. There was no way you wanted to have to actually get up and deal with a drunk partygoer that needed to piss and/or puke.

“Y/N? That you?” A familiar voice came through the door. “It’s Sungchan, can I come in?”

“Oh, sure, hold on.” You clambered out of the tub as carefully as you could in the dim lighting coming from under the door.

Against your better judgment, you turned one set of lights on in the bathroom, then cracked the bathroom door open. Sungchan was in fact on the other side, and you stepped back to let him in. He looked around the bathroom, worry on his face.

You shut the door behind him, saying sheepishly, “So, I was lying about the puking my brains out.”

“But you don’t look okay.” He peered down at your face as you were still wincing against the bright lights. “You didn’t drink anything tonight, what’s wrong?”

You went to sit on the side of the tub, feeling a pain in your eyes now. You gestured to the light switch. “Can you turn that light off?”

“Uh, okay…” He obliged, and the room was dim once again.

Your eyes adjusted quickly, and you could still see the general outline of everything in the room. Sitting back in the tub, you pulled your knees to your chest. Well, no chance for your great escape now. Sungchan climbed into the dry tub with you, facing you. He didn’t fit great in the small space, all gangly limbs, and your knees bumped into each other. But he sat there with you quietly.

“I’ve got a migraine coming on, I had to get somewhere quiet and dark and take my meds.” You told him bluntly, opting to just take the plunge. Not like you could even attempt flowery language at the moment anyway. Sure, some of your speech capabilities were coming back now that there was less sensory input, but you weren’t going to be doing any soliloquies tonight.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sungchan said quietly. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No, no. I actually- I actually don’t want to be alone right now, if that’s okay?” You surprised yourself with your answer.

“Yeah, of course.” He said reassuringly. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“I might not have drank but you did. I’ll be okay here, for the most part. I’m the one who came knowing that I get sound-induced migraines.”

“Wait, really?”

“Mm, yeah,” you pinched the bridge of your nose to alleviate some of the tension there for a moment. “Remember when I said Chenle pushes me out of my comfort zone in a good way most of the time?”

“Right.”

“One of the times it wasn’t... good was when he got an invite to Nu Chi’s Halloween party our freshman year, dragged me with him. And he always means the best when he does stuff like that. I hadn’t made any new friends at college, meanwhile he had a bunch, including some of the pledges at Nu Chi.”

“How he got the invite.”

“Exactly.” You needed to take a pause, resting your head against the cool tile again. After a few deep breaths, you pushed on in the story. “Anyway, we’d been there for a couple hours when the loudness and the music and everything finally got to me and I got a migraine. I had my go bag on me, and went to what I thought was an empty corner of the house to take my meds. But a couple other people saw me knocking back pills and wanted some. My head was hurting like a bitch, and they were trying to grab them from me and anyway, I spilled a bunch of them all over the floor, drenched myself with my water and their beer, and elbowed a dude and gave him a bloody nose.”

“Holy shit,” Sungchan breathed out.

You opened and closed your jaw a couple times to try to relax the muscles and joints there. “I couldn’t even open my eyes because my head hurt so bad. Chenle told me later I was screaming and Taeyong wanted to call an ambulance until Chenle ran up and explained what was happening. They put me, Chenle, and Jeno—turns out that’s whose nose I broke—in Taeyong’s room in the house for the rest of the night. Neither Chenle nor I were in any shape to drive ourselves home.”

“Wait is that how you met Jeno?”

“Yeah, and it turns out he wasn’t one of the ones trying to take my pills, he was trying to break up me and the people who were. Collateral damage.” You recounted it regrettably.

“When Jeno found out I’d invited you, he told me he’d keep his room clear in case we needed it. I thought he was just being a dick.” Sungchan sounded like he was having an epiphany. “Y/N, do you think you’ll be okay to move up a floor?”

The bass was thudding through the door, and you knew that if you stayed here when you transitioned into the throes of however bad this migraine fully got, you’d regret it. Grabbing your earplugs from your bag and putting them in, you gave him a thumbs-up and attempted a smile, but you knew it came out like more of a wince.

Sungchan kept you between him and the wall as you moved through the Nu Chi house, casting as much of a shadow against the garishly flashing lights as possible. Even through your earplugs, the music was raucous, people were practically screaming at each other, and you gripped one hand around his arm and the other onto his suit jacket to keep yourself balanced and to not lose him. When you got to the stairs, he fully wrapped an arm around your shoulders to jerk you out of the way of a drunk Nu Chi member stumbling his way down, and kept it there the rest of the way up. The noise was squeezing around your head like a vice, and you shut your eyes tight at the top of the stairs for a moment in an attempt to clear your head.

Sungchan’s voice was right beside your ear, muffled through the earplugs, “We’re almost there, Y/N, I’m sorry, come on.”

You were vaguely aware of the man with you feeling around on the top of a doorway before jiggling a doorhandle, and finally you were in a blissfully dark and quiet-ish room. Your head definitely hurt more than before, and you practically collapsed onto the bed.

“He was kind enough to stuff all his dirty clothes in the closet,” Sungchan muttered.

You managed a strangled chuckle at that, dropping your go bag onto the floor beside the bed. A moment of silence passed, and you could hear Sungchan awkwardly shifting his weight between his feet at the doorway.

“Sungchan,” you said his name, then patted the empty half of the bed beside you. “You can sit. I know Jeno doesn’t have any other furniture in here besides the bed and his PlayStation.”

“He probably only has a bedframe because it came with the room.”

You snickered, but were cut off by the squeezing pain turning to a sharp, stabbing pain behind your left eye, “Oh fuck!”

“Y/N?!” Sungchan was right beside you, and you felt the bed dip as he sat down beside you.

“Sorry, sorry, it feels like I’m getting an icepick lobotomy! Jesus!” You hissed, cupping a hand over your left eye as if that were actually going to do anything. “It’s normal, I’m fine. Relatively.”

“Okay…”

Still clutching your eye, you rolled onto your side and brought your knees up towards your chest. You blindly fumbled towards the head of the bed, and felt a pillow being pressed into your hand.

“Thanks,” you muttered, tucking it under your head.

“Do you want to lay under the covers?” Sungchan whispered.

“Do they smell like Jeno’s washed them in the past week?”

He laughed breathily at that, “Miraculously they do. I think he was planning on getting laid.”

“He gave up getting his dick wet for me. Jeno’s a real one,” you mumbled, feeling the covers that you were laying on top of being pulled out from under you.

Sungchan gently brought the sheet up to your shoulder, then a blanket too. The stabbing pain behind your eye was still there, and your stomach filled with dread as you acknowledged that your acute medication wasn’t going to be working this time. This was going to be a full-blown migraine, and who knew how many hours it would last.

“Thank you.”

“Is there anything else you need? Water?”

“No. Just uh, let me know when two hours have passed, I can take another dose of my meds that aren’t fucking working then.”

“Oh. Will do.”

You opened and closed your jaw, letting out a distinct groan. Another few minutes passed. Or, you think it was a few minutes, you couldn’t really check your phone for the time.

“Sungchan.”

“Yes?”

“You don’t have to stay. I’m sure the party is a lot more fun.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“…No.”

“I want to stay. I’m not going to have any fun out there knowing that you’re in all in this pain all alone in here.”

You squinted your right eye open, and had to crane your neck to look up at where Sungchan was sitting against the headboard. He had taken his suit jacket and shoes off at some point, now just in a rumpled dress shirt, loosened tie, slacks, and socks. He held your eye contact steadily, head tilted slightly and a frown across his handsome features.

Reaching your unoccupied hand up towards him, he watched it with confusion.

“What do you need? Your bag?”

“No.” You grabbed his hand, giving it a light squeeze.

“Oh.” An adorably radiant grin was on his face now instead.

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 1

Sungchan knew you’d finally fallen asleep when you stopped muttering swears and curses under your breath, the pained expression fell from your face, and your hand that was holding his went limp. He could still hear the party going strong outside of Jeno’s bedroom, and a glance at his phone told him it was just after one in the morning. He had no want to rejoin his friends, to leave you.

He took his tie all the way off, thinking to himself that if you were feeling better, you might have joked that he looked like Mulder the off-duty funeral director. And he would’ve laughed and watched the cute way the corners of your mouth quirked up when you said something that you thought was funny. He set the tie down with his shoes on the floor beside the bed.

Careful to stay on top of the covers that you were sleeping under, Sungchan shifted until he was laying down too, pillow tucked under his head, facing you on his side, hand still holding yours.

Like usual, you didn’t remember falling asleep, but you did remember shutting your eyes tight and wishing really hard for your head to stop hurting so bad. Or to die. Whichever the Universe felt like granting. And judging by the fact that you were now waking up without a migraine, it seemed like the former.

The first thing you were aware of before you even opened your eyes was that you felt like shit. Sure, your head didn’t hurt anymore, but jeez the morning after wasn’t much better. Tired, achy, and your brain felt like TV static.

The second thing that you were aware of, after opening your eyes, was Jung Sungchan just a few inches from your face. He was still asleep, soft bursts of air passing from his lips and mussing up strands of hair that were falling into his eyes. You didn’t quite have enough in you to coo over his bedhead, but you could give half of a fond smile as you pushed yourself into a sitting position, running a sleepy hand over one side of your face.

Only one of your earplugs was still in your ears, and you looked around the bedsheets for the other one. After securing it, you scooted over to the edge of the bed to put the plugs back into your carrying case before rolling back over and pulling the blankets over you again. You deserved this, honestly. Sleeping in late, a comfy bed, warm blankets, a cute boy next to you, nothing to—

Your happy thoughts were ripped away by the sound of a loud alarm. You shot up, scrambling towards your tote bag to grab your phone from the depths of it and turn your goddamn alarm off before it woke Sungchan up.

“Mm?”

Too late.

Sheepishly, you looked over at him, “Sorry…”

“‘S okay,” he mumbled, flopping onto his back and rubbing a hand over his face. “How’s your head?”

“Better. A lot better, thanks.”

“Good, good.” He yawned, “Morning, by the way.”

“Good morning.”

His eyes were closed as he laid there, a hand resting on his chest, and you weren’t sure if he had fallen back asleep.

“…Sungchan?”

“Hm?”

Taking his inquisitive tone as a sign that you could keep talking, you said, “Uhm, that was the first time I’ve had anybody around for one my migraines in a while. I’m sorry if it was… well, I don’t know. What was it like for you?”

He opened his eyes, rolling onto his side to face you and tucking a hand under his cheek, “Oh, uh, I mean, I wasn’t quite worried, since you seemed like you knew exactly what was happening, you know? But still, I… I was wishing there was more I could do. It was weird knowing that you were in pain but not being able to see where it hurt.”

“I should’ve figured that might be upsetting. Sorry about all that.”

“No, Y/N, it's okay. I get it, you just wanted someone with you when you were hurting.”

“Yeah, yeah, I did,” you nodded, curling one of your hands into a fist in your lap, digging your nails into your palm in an attempt to not cry at how easily he saw right into you.

“I was more than happy to sit with you.”

“I’ve had these stupid migraines for years now. Tried every treatment in the book, been on every regiment. And my friends and family, they don’t treat me like I’m made of glass or anything, which I’m grateful for. Everyone in my life knows I’m a pro at it all: I’ve got my go bag, all my meds, my alarms, I’ve been going to doctors’ appointments, testing, everything for years. But like... they still hurt. The migraines still fucking hurt.” Your voice cracked over the word, and your nails dug in deeper. “And I just… think they forget that part sometimes? I don’t know, I guess they hear the word ‘migraine’ thousands of times over the years it sort of loses its meaning. They kind of forget what one actually is. But it hurts Sungchan, my head just hurts for hours or even days, sometimes so bad I throw up from the pain. I can’t do anything but lay in bed in the dark and cry. Last night’s wasn’t that bad but still… thank you. I needed for it to all be real to somebody.”

Sungchan pushed up into a sitting position, and through your watery vision you could see that his brows were furrowed. You followed where his gaze was locked, and watched as he gently unfurled your fingers. You used the thumb of your other hand to rub at the divots that your nails had left in your skin.

“The migraines are why I’ve been all weird, by the way.” You added, trying to ignore the strain in your voice.

“What?”

“When you wanted to buy me a drink after the game. One of my migraine medications that I take, I can’t drink alcohol on it. It just felt like a weird and long explanation to have to give in the moment. And when you asked if I wanted to dance with you last night, the music would’ve made the migraine come on quicker than it did, but explaining it to you then, again it felt like it would’ve ruined the moment even more.”

“Oh… don’t worry about it.”

There was still one big thing you hadn’t smoothed over. But it looks like you’re on man-shaped friend duties tonight, Sungchan. Stupid, stupid.

Pushing through the discomfort prickling at your skin, you asked, “Sungchan, do you want to go on a date?”

“A…” He looked you dead in the eyes for a moment, mouth parted, and blinked once, twice before he was absolutely beaming at you. “Yeah, yes, I do.”

“Okay.” You couldn’t help but giggle, nerves buzzing through you as your chest was airy and you were lightheaded for two reasons now, “Okay, good.”

“Is it bad for me to say that I’m relieved? That you have migraines? Well, not that you have them, because obviously they hurt, but like, that this is what it was? I seriously thought I was being stupid, like mixed signals or something. Like, you came to my game but then you didn’t want to go to the bar.” He ticked the instances off on the fingers of one hand.

“Medication,” you nodded.

“Right. Then you let me walk you home after, but you called me your friend.”

“That was just plain stupidity,” you admitted with a groan at having to relive that moment again.

“And you said yes to coming to the party, but then you didn’t want to dance with me,” Sungchan had now run out of fingers and dropped his hand back down to the bed.

“The music...”

“And when you disappeared, I thought you left because you didn’t like me. I just… felt like I was going crazy.”

“It’s not awful of you to be relieved about this. I’m sorry, Sungchan. Migraines aren’t conducive to romance, apparently.”

“Oh, bullshit.” He pushed back immediately. “They’re just not conducive to drinking and loud parties. That’s not romance.”

“Alright, fair. I’m wont to agree with you.”

“And you need to stop apologizing for your migraines. It’s not like you’re doing it on purpose.”

“Well, I did come to a loud ass party knowing I’d probably get a sound-induced migraine.”

“Okay, aside from that— which, I’m very flattered by and will never ever ask you to do anything like this ever again.”

“Okay.”

Suddenly the door handle rattled, then there was a banging on the door. “Hey! Are you two done in there?” Jeno yelled through the wood. “You better not be having post-headache sex on my bed!”

“Seems like he didn’t get laid last night,” Sungchan muttered.

“If he keeps up that pounding I’m going to get a rebound headache and he’s going to wake the entire house, please let him in,” you groaned.

The boy with you quickly moved to do so, unlocking the door and throwing it open to whisper aggressively, “Jeno! Shut the fuck up! People are still sleeping!”

“Oh. You’re dressed.”

You rolled your eyes at your friend, “I don’t know what you think a migraine is like, but getting my back blown out is pretty far down on my to-do list for immediately after.”

“How are you feeling?” Jeno was nice enough to ask as he rooted through his closet.

“Like shit. While you guys nurse actual hangovers today, I get to nurse a migraine hangover. Same awful morning after without the fun night before.”

“That sucks.” He secured a rumpled shirt and inside out pair of sweatpants. “I told Chenle you were crashing here last night, by the way. He didn’t just abandon you for shits and giggles.”

“Oh, thanks. He was sober enough to drive?”

“Mark had a Breathalyzer and everything.”

“Wow…”

“Now I recommend you two get the fuck out before everyone else wakes up and sees you sneaking out together.”

“Right,” Sungchan nodded, sitting on the edge of Jeno’s bed and pulling his shoes on.

You quickly gathered your shoes, phone, witch hat, and go bag before giving Jeno a short goodbye and following Sungchan out. The Nu Chi house was thankfully quiet as everyone was still asleep in their own rooms, save for the partygoers and brothers who had passed out on the couches in the living rooms. Once you were on the front porch, the two of you dared to speak again.

“I’ll drive you home, Y/N,” Sungchan offered.

“Mhm, thanks,” you squinted against the bright sunlight, reaching into your bag for the spare pair of sunglasses you kept in there.

He gestured to your bag. “So what all do you have in there?”

“Everything but the kitchen sink.” You sighed, finally securing your sunglasses and putting them on. They did help, but you knew there was no way you were going to avoid a rebound headache today. Realizing that Sungchan might actually have been genuinely asking and wasn’t just trying to be polite, you decided to give him a sincere answer as well. “Uh, my meds, my blood pressure cuff, earplugs, sunglasses, some snacks, other miscellaneous non-migraine related stuff like an umbrella.”

“Blood pressure cuff?” He stopped in front of a sedan parked on the street, and opened the passenger door for you.

Even through your unpleasant migraine hangover, you couldn’t help the giddy smile that crossed your lips at the gesture.

Once the both of you were in the car, you explained, “One of my medications affects my blood pressure. I have to check it every few hours, or whenever I feel kind of funny. That’s partially what the snacks are for too.”

“Really?” He started the car and pulled out into the street.

“Most of my meds I need to take with food, so keeping snacks on me makes it easy. The sweet ones are in case my blood sugar drops though.”

“Blood sugar too?”

“A different medication affects my appetite, secondary effect is on my blood sugar. Fun fact, it’s the same one that keeps me from drinking alcohol. Anyway, if you’re ever craving something sweet, I keep gummies and stuff on me usually.”

Sungchan let out a deep breath. “Wow…”

“Oh and water.” You perked up as you realized you’d forgotten something, and reached in for said item. “I've got my water bottle. I need water to take my meds, obviously, but I also need to drink water to make sure I don’t get kidney stones from my medication.”

The car had stopped at a stoplight, and he looked over at you in disbelief. “What the fuck.”

“Hey, it’s this or be entirely unable to participate in society.” You explained. “I used to get five or six migraines a week, with really bad or mild headaches constantly in between. I couldn’t do anything, they were disabling. Clearly, they still are now when I do get them, but I only get one or two a month.”

“I can’t imagine— I… yeah…” He trailed off as the light turned green, a deep frown etching itself on his features as he clearly was trying to imagine what a huge shift in his life that would be. And was having a hard time doing so.

“People without chronic illnesses usually can’t, until they get one,” you shrugged. “I know I couldn’t imagine it either. Then I got my first migraine. Then my second, and my third. I think the ‘chronic illness’ part really hit for me when I had to order my first sharps disposal bin for the monthly injections I take.”

“You’re…”

“Do not say that I’m so strong or any live laugh love type shit right now.”

He laughed, shaking his head, “No, no, not what I was going to say. I was just thinking… you’re really cool.”

“I just info-dumped about my migraines, medication, medication side effects, and treatment to you for ten minutes straight and that’s the conclusion you came to?” You asked in disbelief as he pulled into your apartment complex, and it dawned on you just how long you had been talking about yourself for. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been that detailed with someone other than your neurologist or your mom about your condition and treatment.

Sungchan put his car in park to turn and look you in the eye. “I’m looking at the bigger picture here: You’re a Lit major, you like Gothic fiction, you’re good at writing, you’re smart and know things like death of the author and stuff, you like Pacific Rim, you’ve come to one of my games, you’re funny, and you just info-dumped to me about something personal for ten minutes. So yes, I think you’re cool. Actually, cool might be an understatement.”

“Jung Sungchan, you…” Your cheeks were hurting with how wide you were grinning. Whether it was the migraine hangover or truly from how warm and happy his words made you, you couldn’t formulate a proper response, “Congrats, I’m speechless.”

“I think that's good?” He laughed again. “Anyway, you told Jeno earlier that you felt like shit, so I won’t hold you up anymore. Rest well today, Y/N.”

“Thanks. You too, Sungchan.” You wrapped your hand around the door handle but stopped just short of actually opening it. “Oh, and uhm, I don’t know if this too eager or whatever, but I’m free tomorrow.”

His face lit up with recognition at what you were implying. “Me too. But are you going to be okay? Like, recovered?”

“Yeah, I’ve got all day today to sleep it off.”

“Okay.” He grinned.

“Okay.” You repeated. “Text me?”

“Yes, yes. I will.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

And with that, you got out of his car, making sure to take your go bag that had been on your lap for the whole drive.

Halfway to your front door, you turned around to give Sungchan a final wave goodbye, and he waved back through the windshield. Once you’d finally disappeared into your apartment, he looked over at his now empty passenger seat. Well, not completely empty, he realized. Your witch hat was on the floor of the passenger side, you’d forgotten to grab it on your way out. He picked it up, gently setting it on the seat beside him. He’d just give it back to you when he saw you again for your date tomorrow.

“A date,” Sungchan sighed happily, feeling his chest swell and nearly burst with joy. “A date, a date, a date.”

Putting his car in reverse, he looked through the rear window as he muttered, “Suck an egg, Donghyuck. Man-shaped friend, my ass.”

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 2

Sungchan picked you up at 7:00 p.m. on the dot for your first date. You made sure to take your nighttime meds early and silence your alarms so there was nothing to bother you that night. Migraines notwithstanding, of course. You still had to bring your go bag just in case you needed anything acute, but you didn’t think twice about leaving the majority of it in the car, tucking just a couple individually packaged tablets into your pocket before accepting Sungchan’s hand that he offered to you after opening your car door for you.

Walking into the movie theater with him after he bought your tickets, you were about to start off in the direction that the usher had pointed you when your date stopped you.

“You want anything from concessions?” He nodded towards the long line of other couples, families, and groups of friends.

“I’m not big on overpriced popcorn,” you shook your head with a smile. “Thanks though, Sungchan.”

“You sure you don’t want a soda or candy? How’s your, you know, blood sugar?”

It was then that your polite smile morphed into a genuine, touched one, and you squeezed his hand that you were holding. “I’m doing good, promise. I made sure I ate before. But thank you, seriously. You’re really sweet.”

“Okay, but let me know if you need anything.”

“Sungchan, can I tell you something?” You ducked your head in towards him conspiratorially.

“Yeah, of course.”

You gently shook one side of your jacket, and a muffled rattling sound came from within it. “I snuck a bag of Skittles in,” you whispered to him.

He chuckled as you dropped your jacket back down and smoothed over the inside pocket inconspicuously. “Two steps ahead of me.”

“I just didn’t want to ruin our date if I got low.”

“It’s very thoughtful, thanks.”

“So are you!” You tried to reassure him.

The two of you entered where your movie would be showing, and picked your seats. The previews had already started, so you had to drop your voices to whispers.

“But you’re going to be good with the bright light, and the sounds?” Sungchan double-checked with you.

You nodded insistently. “You’re the one who made me compile a list of stuff that I could do, remember?”

“I know, but you also came to that party knowing that it was like 100% guaranteed to give you a migraine. So I think I’ve earned some skepticism.”

“Okay, fine. You got me there,” you sighed. “But I get nothing out of suggesting things that will give me migraines other than cutting our time together short. Which I don’t want to do.”

Sungchan shifted in his seat, and when you looked over at him, you could see a small, bashful smile on his face. “Good. Glad we got that cleared up.”

The previews finally ended, and the entire theater quieted down, including you two. You settled in to watch the movie, scooting closer to your date, looping your arm under his, and resting your head on his shoulder. He hesitantly leaned his head against the top of yours.

As you left the theater hand-in-hand with Sungchan, you two were deep in discussion about the movie, and in the back of your mind, you realized with a panic that you had far too much that you wanted to say that wouldn’t fit into the short ride back to your apartment. Not to mention that you didn’t want your night with him to be over yet.

“Hey.” You called for his attention as he opened up the passenger door for you, stopping before you got in the car.

“Hey.” He offered you a lopsided grin, still holding the door open with one hand and now caging you between him and the open car door.

If the parking lot wasn’t literally swarming with other movie theater patrons, you swore you would’ve grabbed him and kissed him stupid right there and then. But a family of five walked by at that moment, so you swallowed down the itch.

“We should go somewhere,” you suggested, trying to sound equal parts nonchalant and hopeful. Which was a weird combination, you knew, but you didn’t want to come across as too desperate. Again, a ridiculous sentiment, but it was engrained in you with social conditioning or whatever.

“We just went somewhere,” he pointed out knowingly, and you swore that was a smirk that you spotted on his face in the shadowy lighting afforded by the parking lot streetlamps.

“We should go somewhere else.”

“Like where?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, despite how desperate you felt on the inside to just be around him right now. “Somewhere. Are you hungry?”

“Are you?”

You pressed your lips together in a thin line. “Well—”

Finally, he smiled, nodded towards the car, and said, “I know somewhere. Get in.”

Sungchan closed the car door after you before walking around to get into the driver’s side. He didn’t offer you any information or clues as to your new destination as he left the movie theater parking lot. The hockey captain drove with one hand casually holding the bottom of the steering wheel, the other tapping out the rhythm of whatever song was playing over his speakers onto his thigh. You dragged your eyes from his fingers to the passing scenery.

Honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d been on a good date. Even the last date you’d been on was a distant memory. Lunch with some CompSci major your freshman year, a blind date set up by a mutual acquaintance. He just talked over you the whole time. You didn’t deign to go on a second date with him. It wasn’t that your migraines made it impossible to date—they hadn’t even come up at the date with the CompSci major (mostly because he didn’t give you the opportunity to say much of anything)—but you knew that it was always going to be something to get out of way. Either up front or at some point down the line. And it was exhausting enough for you to have to completely restructure your life around them, how could you really ask some stranger who barely knew you—or didn’t at all—to consider doing the same? It felt like it just made your dating pool even narrower, an added standard that you didn’t even get to pick.

But with Sungchan, it had happened in the worst way possible, you disappeared on him because you were having a migraine, without even having told him anything about them. And not only was he more than chill about it, he stayed with you through your entire full-blown migraine. Listened to you explain every ailment, medication, and medication complication that you have, and just tucked all that information away to keep track of your wellbeing. Taken it all in stride and made it look easy. And that was before your first date. It almost made you angry. Not at Sungchan, but at the fact that other people had ever made you feel like an inconvenience.

The car slowing to a stop knocked you from your thoughts, and you didn’t even realize that you had been silent for the entire trip. Sungchan didn’t seem to mind, though, as he hadn’t tried to start a conversation either. He put the car in park as you looked around, trying to gauge where exactly you were.

“Are we… on campus?” You turned to him with an eyebrow raised.

He was already out of the car, though, jogging around to get your door. As he opened it for you, he tilted his head innocently, “What was that?”

You stepped out, taking in your surroundings. “Are we at a campus parking garage?”

“Specifically, the top floor of Evergreen Parking Garage,” Sungchan clarified, rolling the passenger window down.

Evergreen Parking Garage was a commuter-only parking facility, meaning that this level was empty this late at night. It was also located at the furthest reaches of the north block of campus, which bordered a nature preserve, meaning that while on one side was your university campus, the other side was entirely evergreen trees. Hence the name.

Sungchan had parked on the side that faced the nature preserve, and as you turned to question your date as to why exactly he’d taken you to campus, you were instead greeted by the sight of him hunched over to lean into the open passenger window, seemingly messing around with the audio controls of the still-running car.

You tilted your head to one side, then the other as you just watched him struggle for a moment before finally speaking up. “What uh… What are you doing, Sungchan?”

He banged his head on the frame of the window as he went to stand back up. “Fuck! Ow…”

Covering your hand to muffle your giggles, you waited patiently for him to turn around and answer you.

Still clutching his head, he said with a sheepish smile, “Just give me a sec, sorry. Technical difficulties.”

And with that, he opened the door to properly sit in the passenger seat, futzing with his phone and the car radio. Finally, there was music playing from the speakers as opposed to the radio station ads, and he turned the volume up before getting back out of the car and shutting the door. With both the driver and passenger windows rolled down, you could hear the song clearly.

“I was originally going to try to take you to this lookout, but there were other cars there, so I had to keep driving by it and oh my god why did I tell you that—” He scratched the back of his head nervously. “Anyway, since we didn’t get to dance at the party…”

Sungchan offered his hand out to you, and you set yours atop it. The upbeat song that had been playing finished just then, switching to a much slower, softer one. You stepped in closer, smiling up at him as you looped your free arm around his neck. His other hand settled on your hip, and he slowly started leading you in an uncertain sway of sorts.

You let out an airy chuckle, “Was this really the kind of dancing you had in mind for a frat party?”

“Would you believe me if I said yes?” He questioned.

“Would you believe me if I said that I believed you?”

“No.”

You snickered. “Smart man.”

“But this is good, too. Better, even.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, there’s not a bunch of other drunk, sweaty, loud people everywhere knocking into us. I don’t have to worry about somebody spilling beer on me, or other guys looking at you, or the DJ picking something bad. Or you getting a migraine.” Sungchan slotted his fingers with yours. “I just get to think about you.”

You rested your head on his chest, eyes zoning out on your linked hands. It was his right hand, so his pinky finger couldn’t quite fold down along with the others. “Yeah. I like this, too,” you agreed softly.

A cool breeze gently blew across your cheek that wasn’t resting on Sungchan’s chest, and you were glad for the warmth of him pressed against your front. Your feet awkwardly bumped into each other, making you chuckle, and he apologized with a nervous laugh.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I haven’t exactly taken any ballroom dancing classes. Have you?”

“Well...”

You jerked your head back to look him in the face. “You have?”

“You know how Greek life has those formals every year?”

“You’re not in a frat...”

“No, I’m not. But freshman year, Nu Chi had pitched in for this dance teacher and— God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” Sungchan said regretfully, tilting his head back to look up in embarrassment.

“Sungchan, come on!” You pleaded.

“Hendery swore me to secrecy...”

“Well now you have to tell me!”

“Hendery’s date couldn’t make it to one of the lessons, so he asked me to fill in for her...”

Your jaw dropped with delight, “Was his date an Amazon? How did that work? He couldn’t have possibly dipped you! Or twirled you!”

“She was taller than him, to be fair,” he admitted. “Nothing that couldn’t be adjusted for with some thick soles, but, you know...”

“You’re such a good friend, Sungchan,” you said through a couple of giggles, imagining the two of them attempting the aforementioned twirls and dips.

He dropped his head, shaking it. “Right, thanks.”

“So I guess I should be leading then, hm?” You teased, your feet bumping his again in that moment.

“I feel like you’d lead us over the edge of this parking deck, Y/N,” he joked.

Before you could make a retort, he stepped back from you to gently twirl you around by the hand, and a cross between a surprised yelp and a laugh tumbled from your mouth. As he brought you back into his chest, you could barely think over the joyful buzzing in your head that resonated out to every square inch of your body.

“Okay, okay, I guess you can lead,” you surrendered, looping your arm back around his neck again.

After some time, the songs had picked up tempo again, but you and Sungchan were long past actually dancing to them. You were more so just holding each other, leisurely swaying, and from here you got to listen to the sounds of his breathing. He’d taken to rubbing absentminded circles into your hip with his thumb, and the fingers of your arm that was around his neck had dipped below the material of his collar, resting on his bare skin.

“Sungchan?” You murmured.

“Yes?” He responded, his voice rumbling right under your ear.

“Thank you for not making me do this in front of a bunch of other cars at the other lookout.”

He let out a couple quiet laughs, his chest shaking with each. “You’re welcome. I figured all of the teens making out in their cars also didn’t want to watch us do this either.”

You mock gasped, pretending to sound scandalized, “You were going to take me to a lover’s lookout? On the first date? Jung Sungchan…”

“Who are you, my grandma? Nobody calls it that anymore.” He pinched your side. “And only because it’s actually got a great view over the city and—”

“I’m kidding, Sungchan.” You pinched him back, lightly, on the nape of the neck. “Besides, I wouldn’t have been opposed to a trip to a lover’s lookout with you anyway…”

You heard the breath hitch in his throat, then Sungchan swallowed and inhaled through his nose, before he finally spoke, “Really?”

His grip on your hip tightened, sending a bolt of electricity along your skin out from the contact point. You brought your head out of his chest and used your arm around his neck to draw him in even closer.

“Really,” you echoed, blatantly staring at his lips now that they were centimeters away from yours. “And it looks like we’ve got our own right here.”

Then Sungchan was using his hold on your hip to push you back step by step until your back was against the side of his car. Your own arm around his neck kept him anchored to you as he stood hovering over you, blotting out any light that would’ve come from the light post above you. Your noses were almost touching, your breaths mingling in the negligible space between your mouths. You were looking at Sungchan’s eyes now, usually a warm, deep brown, now all inky blackness in the dark of night, and staring down at your own mouth. Your tongue instinctually darted out to wet your lips, and that seemed to be the final straw.

His mouth on yours was desperate, but not desperate to get laid, like your previous lover’s lookout banter might imply. Like he was just desperate for you. He stole kiss after kiss from your lips, but never forced his tongue into your mouth, nor moved his hands anywhere else. Despite leaning more and more of his weight forward onto you, utterly pinning you to the car, he kept his bruising grip on your hip and never let go of your hand.

You parted your mouth with a bedraggled gasp of his name, and he finally took this as an invite to slip his tongue into the mix. You shifted to rest the hand that was laced with his above your head, on the roof of the sedan, giving his hand a squeeze. He squeezed your hand back.

Turning your head and breaking the kiss, you hoped he’d get the idea as you continued laying there half-spread out under him. He did, thankfully, kissing from the corner of your mouth across your cheek and down your jaw and neck.

“Sung…chan…” You breathed out his name, stroking the back of his head with your free hand as his lips latched onto a spot at the base of your neck.

Trailing your hand down further, you snuck it up under the hem of his shirt, feeling over the expanse of his chest and stomach. Oh fuck yeah, hockey players. You pulled the article of clothing up towards his head insistently, and he detached from your neck for the two of you to jointly strip him of it. Oh fuck yeah, hockey players. You truly didn’t know if he looked or felt better, but you couldn’t ogle him for long, because he was back on top of you as soon as he’d thrown the shirt into the front seat via the open passenger window beside you. His lips were so warm on yours, his skin even hotter under your touch now as you unabashedly felt up every inch of it and the muscles underneath.

But soon that wasn’t enough either, and you were fumbling at his pants button. He groaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating down into your own chest, as his hand snapped around your wrist.

“Ahh…” He hissed regretfully.

“What?” You looked up at him with wide eyes.

“I can’t get my dick out in public.”

You glanced at the car behind you, with its tinted windows, then back at Sungchan. He met your eyes, then shrugged. “That’ll work.”

It was a mad scramble to get the door to the backseat open, so much so that you accidentally smacked Sungchan in the leg with said door. After lots of apologies through giggles, both of you were in the backseat with the doors closed and locked. Sungchan had the task of awkwardly reaching forward over the console to roll the windows back up first, during which you made a couple observations about his backseat, which you hadn’t seen much of before. His practice bag for hockey was back here—which was different than his gear bag, as you’d already been told. The gear bag actually had his equipment that he needed to play with like mouth guards, sticks, and all of that, while his practice bag had more personal stuff like changes of clothes or hygiene products. You figured his gear bag was either in the trunk or at the rink, as he didn’t always need to carry it back and forth with him. But other than the practice bag and a couple of reusable grocery bags on the floor, the backseat was pretty clean. You were genuinely impressed, especially because he made it sound like he tended to chauffeur a lot of his teammates/roommates around frequently.

Sungchan eventually reentered the backseat fully, focusing a content, closed-lip smile on you. You’d taken it upon yourself to lay down on the seat, your knees propped up by your feet. He settled in to kneel on the same cushion as your feet, but just rested an arm on your knees and his chin atop that forearm to gaze down at you, still smiling.

“What? What’s that smile for?” You asked, starting to feel a bit self-conscious.

“Nothing, I just—” He reached both his hands out towards you, fingers spread, and you got the idea, linking yours with them. “I hope you don’t get the wrong idea. I want this to be a real thing, Y/N. Like, I don’t just want to sleep with you. I don’t even do this kind of stuff—car sex on the first date in a campus parking garage?—literally ever. I’m just kinda crazy about you. I know for most people usually it’s the opposite; you know, they save it for later for really important people. They try to make it special, but I know it’ll be special just because it’s you.”

“Sungchan... I’ve never done something like this either,” you admitted, squeezing both of his hands tight. “I think I’m just kinda crazy about you too.”

“Okay. Cool.” He beamed at you, and you felt your insides turn to mush in that moment. You didn’t think they’d ever un-mush again.

“Now can you please take my clothes off before I spontaneously combust?”

“Fuck. Yeah.” He nodded, immediately turning serious as his brow furrowed and he leaned forward to lock his lips with yours again, propping himself up with one hand to hover above you.

You let your knees fall apart to give him room to settle in between your legs. He pulled at your jacket first, and you sat up to help yank it off, dropping it to the floor with his practice bag. With you no longer laying down, he could use two hands to get the next part, your top. His fingertips skimmed along your skin as he grabbed the hem. You broke the kiss so he could start pulling the clothing up your body—

A loud knock against the driver’s side window quite literally made you scream, and Sungchan jerked up and hit his head once again, this time on the roof of the car. You tugged your shirt back down to cover you, ducking to lay flat on the seat as Sungchan looked at you with panic in his eyes.

Another knock came at the window, this time accompanied by a man’s voice, “Campus security! Roll the window down or I’m going to ask you to turn the car off and step out!”

“Just a second!” Sungchan yelled back, a noticeable crack in his voice. He had a difficult time maneuvering his lanky body over the console fully into the driver’s seat again.

“Now!” The man called out again. “Three! Two!”

Sungchan didn’t have time to put on his shirt before ‘one,’ and he rushed to roll the window down. A flashlight was immediately shone into the car, and you didn’t doubt your own visibility to the security officer. You were remaining laying down for your own mental wellbeing at this point. You didn’t think that you could deal with looking this man in the eye right now.

You didn’t know if it was wisdom or embarrassment that kept your date from saying anything, but he thankfully didn’t speak until spoken to, not offering up any incriminating information. After five entire seconds of silence, the officer let out an audible sigh.

“No overnight parking in this garage,” he said, his tone making it very clear that he knew that was not what was going on. “I’ll be back in five minutes and if you’re still here, you’re getting a ticket.”

“Yes, sir,” Sungchan replied.

“I’m sure that the captain of our hockey team wouldn’t want to get put on probation at the beginning of the season.”

“N-No, sir.” His voice cracked again.

The security officer grunted, but said nothing more. You heard Sungchan roll the window back up, then the sound of another car driving away. Slowly, Sungchan turned around to look at you over the console with wide, horrified eyes.

“He knew who I was…” He whispered. “That was the most terrifying 45 seconds of my life.”

“You’re famous, Sungchan,” you teased, sitting up in the backseat now that the coast was clear.

“Yeah, and fame has got so many perks so far.”

“Almost got into your first scandal already.” You clicked your tongue disapprovingly. “Caught with a girl in your backseat. What will the fans say?”

“Considering my fans are all frat bros, probably something along the lines of wolf whistles and incoherent, congratulatory lewd jeering.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, able to picture that perfectly considering you’d already gotten a taste at the first home game you’d gone to. “Sounds about right.”

“Anyway, I should take you home before that guy comes back.”

“Good idea.” You slipped your jacket back on.

“Are you going to come up here or am I your chauffeur?”

“I suppose I’ll sit up there with you,” you sighed, opening the backseat to get out and into the front normally since there was no security man around.

Back in the passenger seat, you handed Sungchan’s shirt back to him, “Here, have some decency. You’re the captain of the hockey team, you know.”

“I’m sorry, who was going to spontaneously combust if we didn’t get naked in the next 0.2 seconds?” He scoffed, pulling his top back on.

“I don’t recall.”

“Sure.”

“And who’s still hard in their jeans right now?”

“Don’t remind me, I have to drive like this,” he groaned, taking the car out of park with a shake of his head.

As Sungchan drove with one hand, the other reached over to take yours, lacing his fingers together with yours.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 6

Just a few days later, and you were at the rink again, eagerly watching the hockey game in front of you. Chenle was beside you, continuing his constant sports commentary on every play that happened. You still mostly tuned it out, but you were pretty sure you at least understood most of the basic rules that Taeyong had explained to you before. You kept your eyes on Sungchan, cheering him on along with the other various Nu Chi brothers around you and other fans in the stands. It wasn’t as full of a house as it had been for the first home game, but you were perfectly content to have a slightly quieter environment.

Sungchan happened to skate by your section as everyone was resetting their positions, giving you a wave through the clear barrier. You gave him a slightly bashful but nevertheless bright grin as you waved back.

“So are you two like... dating now?” Hendery asked from your other side, leaned forward with both of his elbows on his knees as he watched the game. He looked back at you over his shoulder with a shit-eating grin, though, one that made you roll your eyes.

“I don’t know. We’ve been on a date. I mean, there was the Halloween party, but I got a migraine so I don’t think that really counts, so— I don’t have to explain myself to you!” You scowled at him, shoving him away by his shoulder.

He laughed as he let himself get jostled around in his seat from the push, holding his hands up in surrender. “Just curious. Unlike your bestie over there, I think you two are adorable.”

“What?” You looked over at Chenle, who Hendery had pointed at.

Chenle had apparently been listening enough to be able to jump in to defend himself. “It’s not what it sounds like. I think you two are great, promise.”

You turned back to your other friend. “Then what the hell are you talking about, Hendery?”

“He just doesn’t want to lose,” the Nu Chi member explained. “I pegged Sungchan’s huge crush on you on day 1 of Dr. Son’s class. Once the Phanta Phour stuff started, I knew that boy had no chance. Chenle just didn’t think you’d ever... hold on, how’d he put it... be into uh, ‘Neanderthal frat-bro-in-law types.’”

“I was maybe a bit tipsy...” Chenle added in.

“So you made a bet on if Sungchan and I would get together? In four whole years?” You looked from left to right between them.

“Loser has to buy winner a 12-pack,” Hendery confirmed with that same grin. “When Phantasmagorical Phriday ended this year, I really thought I’d lost. But then you turned up at the game last week and I figured Sungchan just might score himself a buzzer beater.”

“You two need to get better hobbies,” you declared with a snort.

“This so counts as sudden-death OT, but whatever,” Chenle scoffed under his breath.

You smacked him across the chest. “And don’t call my dating life ‘sudden death’ either.”

“Hey.” He said softly, grabbing your arm, and you turned your head to meet his gaze. “I really was worried about you going to the Halloween party with your head. I swear.”

“I know, LeLe,” you nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “You did some great wingmanning once we got there.”

The brief flash of sincerity you got from your best friend was over as quick as it had come, as you heard the crash of helmets on the ice, and both your focuses were drawn back to the game. Two players had collided into each other and the clear barrier right in front of your faces. You grimaced sympathetically as you tried to identify the player from your team. 23— Jeno, ah, he’d be alright. And you were right, he took off almost immediately as the other guy was left behind still dazed.

At the end of the game, with the buzz of another win in your veins and the anticipation of seeing Sungchan thrumming along your skin, you bounced on your heels as you waited in the lobby. You weren't paying attention to the ecstatic, dramatic recollections that Chenle and the Nu Chi brothers were giving of specific plays around you, your gaze entirely focused on the locker room exit.

The very first player to leave was Sungchan, his eyes already scanning the crowd. Without a second thought, you darted over to him, ignoring the couple of whoops and whistles you two got from your friends.

Sungchan beamed down at you as he went to pull you into a hug, and you were immediately enveloped in the smell of the freshly washed clothes that you’d caught last time. This time, though, there was the distinct, crisp smell of ice rink ice under it as well, reminding you of when you’d go ice skating with friends.

“Hey,” you smiled up at him as he let you go, but didn’t step back very far. “You played really good again. I’m pretty sure. A bit more sure than I was last time.”

He was still grinning, looking down at the floor then back up at you before he responded, “Thank you. And I don’t really expect you to become a hockey pro or anything if all that doesn’t interest you. As long as you don’t expect me to remember what death of the author is.”

“This was only my second game, have some faith in me!” You cried out indignantly. “And no, I don’t expect you to become a full-blown literary critic either.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he apologized through a couple of poorly suppressed giggles. “I do believe in you. I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to learn boring sports stuff for me.”

“I do want to be able to follow the basics of a game without Chenle or Taeyong annotating it for me, at least.”

“Oh, yeah, you can definitely do that. Might need to come to a few more games, though...”

You nodded giddily. “Just let me know when the home games are and I’m there.”

“Yo!” A voice had called from the gaggle of guys heading towards the exit. You didn’t even realize that the rest of the team had left the locker room in the time that you’d been talking to Sungchan.

While you couldn’t tell who had gotten your attention, it was Donghyuck that asked, “Are you two coming or are you just going to keep making moony eyes at each other all night?”

“Yeah, Sungchan, you’re our ride!” Yangyang yelled out from somewhere.

“DD!” Jeno cheered.

“I’ll drive you two,” Mark offered with a shake of his head.

“Shotgun!” The two of them immediately dibs-ed in unison.

“Sorry, bitches, I’m his little,” Donghyuck declared. “That means eternal dibs on shotgun in Mark’s car.”

The frat president scoffed, “You only give a shit about that when it directly benefits you.”

“You guys go ahead,” Sungchan cut into their bickering. “We’re right behind you.”

After they had all filed out, he looked back down at you, a nervous smile worming across his face. “Sorry about that...”

“It’s okay,” you said. “So... you ready to go?”

The two of you had already discussed going to the after-game celebrations with the team before this. Sungchan texted you last night to check in and make sure you’d be okay with going from the loud game to a noisy bar/pool hall with a bunch of frat guys after. You’d assured him that you’d be okay as long as you sat away from any music speakers at the bar, and he’d in turn made you promise to tell him if you needed to leave early.

However, he now halted you as you were slowly turning towards the exit. “Wait, I want to try this again.”

With a sneaking suspicion of what he was about to do, you assured him, “Sungchan, you don’t have to—”

“Let me do this. Please.” He gave you those same eyes that had convinced you to go to a frat party in the first place, and you were squaring your shoulders back to face him, giving him a firm nod.

“Okay. Go for it.”

He asked casually, “So, did you drive yourself?”

You had to hold back a laugh, covering your mouth to straighten your face before replying coyly, “Oh, me? I walked. My apartment is close.”

“So, the team all goes out to this bar after home games. It’s a pretty sleazy dive bar, and I know it’s a Thursday night, but I’d really like for you to come with me. I’ll buy you a... soda.”

“I would love to come, Sungchan,” you giggled, adjusting your purse strap.

“Awesome,” he grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

As you walked up to the passenger side of his car with him, you suddenly realized something. “Wait, did you have your car last time, too?”

“Maybe?” He rubbed the back of his neck, reaching for the door handle to open it for you.

“Then why did you walk me home?”

“To spend more time with you?”

You stole a quick kiss before ducking into the passenger seat.

Squished into one side of a booth with Sungchan’s arm around you, you chatted happily with Chenle, Ten, and Sicheng, who were sitting opposite from you. The team and cheer section were spread out between a couple booths and tables near each other, a few of them up playing pool too. You sipped on your soda between discussions about tonight’s game, upcoming games, classes, or whatever else struck you all. Currently, you were locked in a conversation with Ten about the most recent assigned reading in a class that you two shared together this semester.

“I thought that scene had a lot of great allusions back to the earlier one with her mother and the pie baking,” you gushed.

“Really?” Ten tilted his head curiously. “I was seeing it more as a continuation of the cannibalism-sex-love metaphor, since they were eating figs, you know.”

You nodded knowingly. “That’s true. Everything’s about sex—”

“Except sex.” You two finished quoting your professor in unison.

“And then with figs, there’s the Bible interpretation, of course,” you continued.

“Always the Bible.”

“We can never escape what John Milton did for Christian fanfiction, truly.”

“But I do like the pie scene connection the more that I think about it, actually.” Ten knocked back the rest of his cocktail. “And, tying her mother into the cannibalism metaphor could be a fascinating angle, too.”

Your eyes widened as you were practically vibrating your seat with excitement now. “Yeah, her earliest memory being of food, parental love, and harm...”

“Anyway, I need a refill.” Your friend shook his glass of ice with a smile. “Be back. Good chat as always, Y/N.”

Chenle and Sicheng scooted out of the booth to let Ten out, the former heading off towards the restrooms while the co-captain followed his roommate to the bar, leaving just you and Sungchan. You continued musing over the new connections you’d just made in the text as you turned your gaze back over to Sungchan beside you. He was already looking at you, a fond half-smile on his face.

“Hi.” He said quietly.

“Hi,” you replied, just as quiet.

Sungchan took a swig of his drink, then eyed yours. “You haven’t drunk any water since we get here.”

He’d been sure to not only order your promised soda of choice, but also water, and as you now looked over at your two cups, you could tell that the water had not been touched at all while the soda was practically empty.

“Oh uh, I guess I haven’t.”

“Drink some.” He pushed it towards you insistently. “Can’t have you getting kidney stones on my watch.”

“Okay, okay.” You acquiesced easily, switching your straw over to that glass and chugging a quarter of it in one go. “Better?”

“Much.” He nodded in satisfaction. “So what were you and Ten saying about pies and sex or whatever? Sex isn’t about sex?”

“Oh, it’s just something one of our professors says a lot. ‘Everything is about sex except sex.’ For lit analysis. In literature, pretty much everything is about sex. Or can be. You can turn like, anything in a piece of text into an innuendo or euphemism if you wanted to. Except for sex. Like, if a sex scene is included in a piece of literature, it’s not actually about the sex that’s being depicted. The sex is meant to represent something else. Like politics, or social structures, or whatever other themes are present in the work. Unless you’re just reading porn. But even then, there’s artistic merit to erotica, and plenty to be learned about the social structures at the time it was written, too.”

Sungchan hadn’t blinked the entire time you’d been rambling on, and upon you finally stopping, blinked in rapid succession as he seemed to come to from a daze. “Wow. Uh, interesting. Filing that away with death of the author.”

“Sungchan...” You leaned in to whisper, placing a hand on the inside of his thigh, just above his knee. His leg jumped, knocking his knee into the tabletop. Your hand had narrowly avoided being smashed too, saved only by its position curled around his leg instead of directly on top. You didn’t move it up or down now though, simply tapping your index finger against the loose material of his sweatpants as you giggled. “What are you thinking about?”

He cleared his throat a couple of times. “How you still have three-quarters of that glass of water left to drink.”

You laughed, slumping to relax into his side and pulling your hand back up to a more casual position on top of his leg. With your other hand, you grabbed your water. “Alright, fine.”

Not too long after your water had been drained, Sungchan was driving you home. Some of your other friends had taken off as well, and you didn't put up too much of a protest when he offered. As your familiar building came into view, you suddenly remembered something.

“Oh, visitor’s parking is over there. Sorry, forgot to mention before.” You pointed to a few parking spots painted with yellow lines instead of white, further away from the apartment entrances than the resident parking. “They’re a bit picky. Chenle got towed after like, five minutes one time.”

“Got it. Thanks.” Sungchan smoothly turned the wheel to pull into one of the open visitor’s spots.

Your reason for showing it to him was two-fold. One, to let him know you hoped he’d be coming over more often, so he’d need that information for future reference. And two, for perhaps less innocent ulterior motives tonight. Truly, your apartment complex only towed people after dark. Overnight visitors. Chenle’s five-minute tow had been a fluke.

“I’ll walk you to your door,” he said with no prompting, and you had to hold in a sigh of relief.

Instead, you gave him a genuine smile. “Thanks, Sungchan.”

“I don’t think I thanked you for coming tonight. To the game.” He slowly meandered up the sidewalk with you, hand holding yours.

“Thanks for inviting me again. I had a lot of fun.” You squeezed his hand.

Your front door loomed in the not-so-distant distance.

“Uh, are you busy this weekend?” He rushed to ask. “I have Saturday morning practice, at 7:30, but it’s over at 9:00, and after that I’m free.”

So that’s why he had texted you at seven in the morning to congratulate you on winning Phantasmagorical Phriday.

“No, I’m not busy. I’d love to do something, just pick from the list I sent you. Surprise me, hm?”

“Will do.”

You were finally on your front welcome mat, and watched his face fall as he seemed to be drawing a blank about how else to prolong your night. But you had an idea.

You didn’t let an alarm or anything else possibly have the chance to interrupt you, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling his mouth down to yours. He stumbled forward at you suddenly yanking him off-balance, catching himself with one hand on your front door and the other on your doorframe. Then, he dropped a hand to the small of your back, drawing you in even closer as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

Disconnected just enough to murmur against his lips, you asked, “Do you want to come in?”

“Please?” He replied with a nearly sheepish chuckle.

“So polite,” you quipped.

You gave him one more peck before turning around to unlock your door and drag him in by the arm.

➠ sequel | series masterlist | blog masterlist

[bethanydelleman]

Hello!

I rewatched Pride and Prejudice and it's surprising how my thoughts on it changed over the years 😃

When I was a teenager, Elizabeth Bennet was the plucky heroine that I wanted to be (lol) , now I'm older with a mortgage and responsibilities/bills, I'm like what was her plan in life?

Because she wasn't really educated per se (im thinking about how she answered lady Catherine about what she has to recommend her re:drawing, playing the piano etc) so I guess a 'career'(no matter how little it would be available at that time) was out of the question, but accepting marraige to the (admittedly obsequious) Mr Collins was also out of the question as well as Mr Darcys first proposal (which I get why sge turned it down!) ...I guess I'm asking what Elizabeth's plan for her future.

I've heard this from a lot of people upon re-read, "Why isn't Elizabeth more worried about her future?" I think there are a few things to note.

Early 1800s or not, Elizabeth is 20 years old when the novel begins (the average age of first marriage for women was 23). 27 year old Charlotte is in more of a future panic, but Elizabeth is still young. She has done practical thing like learn to play piano, but like most young people, she's probably just hoping for the best. And it's not like there is much she can actually do, Elizabeth is putting herself out there, she's dancing, she's playing piano, but otherwise she can just hurry up and wait. Her mother's marriage schemes are seen as vulgar and mostly backfire, and we would hardly want Elizabeth to act like Caroline. We read across Austen's novel's that women are largely stationary and it is the men who move in and out of their lives.

Also, I think a big part of Austen's point is that women are in a position where they feel the need to accept any and every proposal, because as Mr. Collins says, they may never receive another, but that this leads to misery (just look at the older couples and how many of them are unhappy!). While somewhat foolish from a financial perspective, Elizabeth is thinking about her long term happiness. She has watched her father turn bitter in an unequal relationship, she does not want that for herself. Elizabeth is choosing possible spinsterhood over being married to a person she knows she could not respect. Marrying for love, or at least on a basis of respect, is a big theme in Austen's novels. Let me add this quote from Mansfield Park to illustrate this point:

“I should have thought,” said Fanny, after a pause of recollection and exertion, “that every woman must have felt the possibility of a man’s not being approved, not being loved by some one of her sex at least, let him be ever so generally agreeable. Let him have all the perfections in the world, I think it ought not to be set down as certain that a man must be acceptable to every woman he may happen to like himself.... And, and—we think very differently of the nature of women, if they can imagine a woman so very soon capable of returning an affection as this seems to imply.”

So yes, Elizabeth Bennet isn't being financially prudent but she is being sensible in preserving her happiness. And for realism, we know Austen made this decision herself! She turned down an eligible offer.

Next, Mrs. Bennet is somewhat exaggerating: they are very unlikely to starve or be destitute. While it is never explicitly stated, Mr. Gardiner seems to be doing very well, and would probably very happily take at least Jane and Elizabeth if Mr. Bennet died. Mr. Philips is also doing well for a country attorney, he could take in his sister-in-law and nieces. It is going to suck, the Bennets should have planned better, but it's not the end of the world. We also do not know Mr. Bennet's age, but he may well only be in his late forties. He's no Mr. Woodhouse who may die tomorrow in a stiff breeze.

So what is Elizabeth's plan? She doesn't have one, she's 20. She's hoping life will throw her a man with a decent income that she doesn't hate. It works out in the end, but I don't think she would live to regret either turned down proposal if she had never met Darcy again.

[myloveoffandoms]

One More Thing

Warnings: Age gaps? (reader mid 20s then all the dads of the show lol) I don't think anything else? Horrible grammar sorry.

Parings: Negan Smith x Y/N, Daryl Dixon x Y/N, Rick Grimes x Y/N

Summary: When Negan visits Alexandria for the first time and he plans on taking one last thing before he leaves.

Notes: Cleaning out my word docs. I have no clue what this is?? Only re-read once for editing.

Word count: 1.1k approx

Credit for divider: @Baexywth

“Well, well and who do we have here?” A man standing slightly infront of Rick sings out. I’ve assumed his name is Negan. After recent events. I look away from where people- his people were throwing random items from our homes into the street.

I make eye contact with him, unsure who he was speaking to. I glance around searching to see if he was in fact speaking to me or someone else.

“Cat got your tongue?” Negan asks his smile easing ever so slightly. He maybe evil but the salt and pepper beard and green eyes made him immensely attractive.

I eye him up and down for a moment, clearly taking too long when Rick speaks up. “That’s —”

“No! Rick. I’m speaking to her.” Negan cuts him off. He eyes me like I’m a meal, something he wants to devour. I shift slightly on my feet.

I wait one more moment seeing his smirk almost fade from his face before I answer. “It’s y/n” I say simply.

“What a pretty name, for a fine-looking woman.” He speaks low with a newfound smirk.

I glance once at Rick, then once to Daryl. Daryl looking the worst I’ve seen. I didn’t want to look away, but my instincts told me not to linger. I looked each one of Negan’s men in the eye before finally landing back to him.

“Not a woman of many words I see”

I don’t react just continue to hold his gaze.  “Now if you don’t stop looking at me like that… We might just have to go somewhere… more private” His expression almost darkening at the comment. I scolded myself mentally for shifting at the comment. I didn’t want him to see me nervous, weak.

Ricks hand tightens around the bat he holds, his knuckles almost white.

I roll my eyes mentally for I was about to play into this man’s games.

“Excuse my… rude welcome. I don’t tend to play well with strangers.” I smile lightly. I intertwine my hands in front of me. More so to hold something and not show anger or nervousness.

He smiles brightly at my comment.  “Oh my, do you hear that? A voice as sweet as honey!” He walks closer to me. “You, will be joining us.” He eye’s me up and down once more.

I eye Rick for a moment. Unsure of what to do.

“Walk on this side of me darlin’.” His hand gestures to the opposite side of Rick.  I look at Daryl as I walk to Negan’s side. Daryl looks at me once then quickly back to the ground.

I wanted to run and hug him. Tell him he will be okay, but I can’t. Not without Negan knowing how close I am to certain people. Something in me is telling me to hide it.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Sometime passed as we walked around, Alexandria. Negan mainly speaking to Rick but having small conversation with me from time to time.

“So, how did a pretty young thing like you end up at Ricks Camp?” Negan asks.

I always loved being referred to as an object. “I’m not a thing.” I turn to look at him.

He stops and looks at me tilting his head ever so slightly. “My bad darlin’. How did a pretty, young woman end up at Ricks camp?” He rephrased.

“Walkers attacked, he found me. Helped me out and well here I am.” I say holding my arms out for a moment. Locking eyes with Rick. I would never say it to him but how he stood right now was the most docile and weak I had ever seen him. Negan watches me for a moment.

“Ahh, Rick. Didn’t know you were the type to save a damsel in destress.” He laughs out. Grabbing Ricks shoulder “Or was it just cause she’s hot?” He says loud enough for others to hear but into Ricks ear as if a secret conversation. Rick tenses at the comment. Holding Negan’s stare.

“I’m not one to judge but she’s a little young for ya Rick.”

“No” I start to speak. “I mean, it’s not like that.”

“Oh, and how exactly is it?” Negan turns and questions me. I look to his jacket, the belt at the bottom, the leather all still intact. I like it, if he dies I want it.

“I mean… He sees me as a sister or friend… not… anything else.” Hell for all I knew Rick seen me as a child, but that was a fact I wasn’t willing to admit to myself. Negan laughs at me more of a chuckle then a full belly laugh.

“Oh, Darlin’…” He is cut off by a commotion that takes his attention. Although fear goes through me that he will hurt someone else. I’m thankful for the conversation to come to an abrupt end.

Did I find Rick attractive? Yes. Did I find Daryl attractive? Yes. Are both men old enough to be my father? Also, yes. Negan was good at telling when someone was lying, and I did not want to admit I had any attraction to older men. Especially Rick and Daryl.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Negan’s men were filling up the last of the goods they planned on taking from us. Daryl had been put in the back of a truck. I was no longer able to see him. I could feel my heart break when he didn’t respond to the asinine request of pleading his case to stay.

“Oh, and Rick… she comes with us.” My heart drops for a split second it feels like I’m in a free fall.  He can’t mean… I look between Negan and Rick.

“She—” Ricks eyes pleading.

“Now.. consider it a gift. I’m making it one less mouth for you to feed.” Negan states sternly.

“She’s an asset—” Rick attempts once more.

“I said! She comes with me, or do I need to teach another lesson?” His tone signifies there is no room for debate and although asking a question, his demeanour tells its rhetorical.

“Stop… I’ll go…” I step closer to the two men. I didn’t want to leave, this had become home but I knew I needed to do my part, and right now that meant going with him to keep the peace.

“Y/n” It’s a whisper. Rick wants to argue, but even I know he won’t fight Negan.

“I’ll be okay…” I say quietly looking at Rick once more before going over to Negan.

“Now, that’s a girl.” Negan smiles triumphantly as I stand beside him. “You’re riding with me sweetheart.” I look to the truck and see Negan opening a door, waiting for me to get in. I look over my shoulder one last time and then climb inside the cab.

A/N: no sweet clue what this is...

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

July 26th

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1. hi! pease help me find this fic because i really want to re read this.

junior quartet got sent back around sunshot campaign (i think?) because in the future, the four were there in the guanyin temple face off with jgy, together with lxc, lwj, wwx, and jwy. they were really losing and the seniors told the juniors that they're going to find a way to get out of there. turns out, the seniors sacrificed their life to send the juniors to the past through an array but the juniors didn't know about this. jin guangyao also went back in time because he got into the array in time.

here are some details that im not sure if they're are a part of the fic or it's from others (my mind sometimes mix things up). i hope these help:

- jingyi found young jingyi when they were sent back.

- the juniors went to burial mounds and the people there wer skeptical about them

- later part of the fic, zizhen was not accepted in his family (i forgot why) @moonyramie

FOUND? ❤️ Tragedy is Not the End by Hobbsy3 (T, 358k, wangxian, Time Travel, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Golden Core Reveal, Canon Divergence from Qiongqi Pass, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Yunmeng sibling bonding, good dad wwx, good dad lwj, JZX Lives, JYL Lives, Junior Quartet Dynamics)

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2. Hello there again! Im looking for this one sci-fi fic where wei wuxian was a scientist and lan wangji was a military soldier. They met during an Alien invation. In the fic they try to figure out how to kill the aliens or how they even got in earth. Thankyou!

FOUND? Number 2 sounds like Son of a SoliderMan, by FireAwayy, who deleted it and quite a few other Untamed fics because of harassment. // Also had Jiang Cheng and Wen Ning as ambulance drivers, Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue and Song Lan as solders who were sent into the area.

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3. Hi! This is for ficfinder. I read this fic a few years ago. Its MDZSXTGCF crossover. Im not familiar with TGCF so maybe there will be some incorrect use of some term and relationship. WWX dies after he jump from a clif and then he become ghost in the ghost city. He work/become a friend with hua cheng. WWX wore a weimao (its either weimao or a red umbrella). HC and XL then feel some disturbance and with WWX they visit a place where they jail jun wu (?) In some mountain. But when they arrive, the jailer tells them its not jun wu. HC, XL, and WWX then continue their investigation and they meet with LXC and NMJ. I think there WWX identity is revealed to LXC and NMJ. They found out that the disturbance is because of yin iron that are thrown to the magma in nighless city acting up. To stop that WWX sacrifice himself and he died again. When i read that fic its still ongoing but i dont know what this fic status right know. Thats all i can remember. Thank you! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

FOUND! Hi! Im #3 i just found the fic. Its 🔒Can we skip to the Good Part? by pink-lotus-pods (kkomaism) (T, 107k, HuaLian, WangXian, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, YLLZ WWX, HuaLian are in Love , Married HuaLian, Slow Build, Canon Temporary Character Death, Ghost WWX, Fix-It of Sorts, Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, Character Study, Panic Attacks, WWX Has a Mental Breakdown, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, unbearable amounts of sexual tension, Suicidal Thoughts, mild but it’s still there!, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note, Genius WWX)

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4. For fic finder, please! I am looking for a modern fic where Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are raising Jin Ling together and they had a happy little family life, but struggled financially. The two were strippers who eventually catch the eye of Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji who begin to tip them ludicrous amounts of money. I remember the fic laid out their salaries and tips and they were making hundreds of thousands of dollars but they still bemoaned that they were broke and struggling. My confusion over their finances is what I remember most about this fic, lol. Would love to read again, if this rings a bell for anyone! Thank you!

FOUND! Silk & Satin by Brieeze01 (E, 171k, WangXian, LXC/JC, Modern, Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Pole Dancing, Falling In Love, Love Confessions, Idiots in Love, Child LSZ, Child JL, supportive brothers, hardworking brothers, Uncles and nephews, Love Story, Emotions, brokeass pole dancers meet billionaire bachelor brothers, Kinks, Lipstick, High Heels, Blindfolds, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Gentle Sex, Lube, Strip Tease, Dancing, Dirty Dancing, First Kiss, First Time, Love Bites, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Romance, Silk, satin, Slow Burn, Happy Ending, Wholesome, Pining, kink appreciation, healthy family relationship, Healthy Relationships, Everybody uses lube, Lapdance)

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5. Hi I was wondering if you know about a certain fic that takes place during the cloud releases study arc. Where Wei Wuxian wakes up one day suddenly and inexplicably pregnant with an egg. I'm pretty sure its incomplete but I read it a while ago and it was interesting. One of the main parts I remember is Jiang Cheng asking/trying to convince Wei Wuxian that he's not pregnant and it's just a "food baby". @wolfcubx2

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6. Hi! First of all thank you for the existence of this blog, I'm pretty sure it's saved my sanity more than once at this point! I'm looking for a post-canon fic where wwx is telling lwj something like "of course I died screaming, I was being torn apart, but I died calling your name bc you were the only good thing I had in my life"

Unfortunately I can't remember whether it was a long fic or a short fic, or even the rest of the plot, I read too many to keep track lololol so I don't have anything else to go on, but that part really stuck out to me and I wondered if it might ring any bells for anyone else! (And if nothing else I might get a different fantastic recommendation out of the deal!!)

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7. looking for this fic, I don’t remember much but it was abo, modern au with wei ying as an omega and lz as an alpha. there was a part in it where wei ying was presenting to lan zhan and lan zhan was thinking something along the lines of omegas don’t actually do that anymore, or something like that.

FOUND? Tastes Like You by airinshaw (E, 30k, WangXian, A/B/O Dynamics, Modern AU, Alpha LWJ, Scenting, Claiming Bites, Getting Together, Light Dom/sub)

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8. Hello Hello!!!! So I've scrolled through 20+ pages of my Ao3 history for a fic but can't find it. So I'm hoping yall can help!! Lan Wanji was a vampire who lives alone in the woods away from humans and his family. Wei Wuxian was a traveling merchant who ends up crashing Lan Wanji's place. He breaks the man's privacy by entering a room containing a portrait of Lan Wanji's mom, this inturn leads to Wei Wuxian being kicked out. Lan Wanji feels guilty after a bit and goes out to find him. Wei Wuxian ends up in a bad situation and Lan Wanji attempts to save him. They both end up in like a ravine and Wei Wuxian is near death. The two kiss and Wei Wuxian purposefully cuts his tongue on Lan Wanji's fang. At the taste of Wei Wuxian's blood Lan Wanji goes feral and bites his neck. Wei Wuxian dies right then and there, Lan Wanji is convinced he killed him despite desperately trying to turn him into a vampire. Lan Wanji was successful after a few minutes of mouring and hating himself Wei Wuxian comes to. It ends with a time skip to vampire Wei Wuxian buying something in a market dressed in a sun hat and long sleeves buying something for Lan Wanji @crimson-gay-sought-flower

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9. Hi! Do you know the fic where there's a scene with WWX taking the Wen Remnants away and LWJ is his husband and they kiss goodbye but then WWX tells them no one saw that? I think it might have been a arranged marriage au .. @abijo2024-blog

FOUND? seldom all they seem by Fahye (E, 25k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, or rather Arranged Betrothal, followed by Weapons-Grade Thirst) They're engaged rather than married during the rain scene, but I'd say everything else fits. Hope that helps!

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10. Hi!! I'm looking for a fic where wei ying gets his original body back and absolutely no one recognises him. Wei ying doesn't realise this though and walks around gusu in lan clothing. However people start to think lan wangi's gotten a new consort and get mad at him for doing that to wei ying. @louvoilite

FOUND? Is Your Old Body Considered a Halloween Costume? by The_peregrine_falcon (G, 3k, WangXian, WWX's original body, Junior quartet makes an appearance, LWJ is chief cultivator, Fluff,Canon Compliant, Post-Canon) but I don't recall the villagers thinking he was a new consort

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11. Hello I'm DESPERATELY looking for a Tumblr fic, it's relatively short, in which a demonic cultivation is brought forth to the sects in a conference, and he asks for incense and prays to WWX who, lo and behold, is a sleeping god. Please help??

FOUND?🔒Calling Heaven by mondengel (Not Rated, 2k, WangXian, God au)

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12. Fic finder please! I am looking for a fic that I can’t remember if it was time travel (like WWX went back in time) or if it just was au starting with him as a child. Child/teen WWX joins a theatre troupe and he performs a veiled dance at a Nie gathering and teen Huaisang tries to propose to him thinking that WWX was a beautiful female dancer. It is only several years later that they meet again and realize they had that shared moment. It is a WangXian fic, but this is the scene I remember!

FOUND! The Darkness Before Dawn by PsycheStellata707 (M, 113k, WangXian, WIP, Angst with a Happy Ending, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, BAMF WWX, Attempt at Humor, PTSD, Oblivious WWX, WWX-centric, Blind WWX, Sentient Burial Mounds, Everyone Lives AU, Except Those Who Deserves to Die, Oblivious Pining, Not Canon Compliant)

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13. Soo ik it's a discontinued fanfic of wanxian , and I'm not sure if it's been deleted or the name is changed but, it was on Wattpad i think, and was called 'i will fix everything ' it starts with Wei yung returning in time to when he was at gusu lan for learning, he is sitting in class when he opens his eyes and is shocked by this fact , but then he sees suibian near him and he unsheathed the sword and slit his throat. later it goes as he shows his memories to everyone and they find a way to save

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14. Hello,

I'm looking for a fic, set Modern day, no magic, where Wei Ying runs away/is kicked out? during high-school and years later Lan Zhan finds him at a framers market/ crowded street? .. the scene I remembered specifically that led me to trying to find it is Lan Zhan calling Jiang Yanli and saying "I found him" after seeing him in the streets, and her thinking he means like at a morgue so she starts crying and so he continues with "I found him alive" ...I think Wei Ying also lives with the wens on their farm ...  I realize that that is not alot of information to go on but I read it so long ago, its all i remember, I can't even remember if it is worth searching for to reread but that didn't stop me from spending 3 hours looking before giving up and finding this page to ask

Thank you for taking your free time to to help random people find lost fics! @cassie-joy567

FOUND? clean from the war (your heart fits like a key) by sysrae (E, 28k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reunions, past xy/wwx, xy is fucked up but not evil because it's a modern AU and I said so, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, past wwx/jfm, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Abuse, Rape Recovery, transphobic violence, Victim Blaming, Past wwx/others, allusions to past self-harm)

~*~

15. Here I am again, begging on my knees: can you help me find a fic where wwx finds a book describing a shrine to a good he's never heard about, and goes out to find it. He ends up discovering lwj ascended a long time ago, but he is bound and his temples were burned and devotees killed by the sects, lead by the Lan. Turns out they bound and imprisoned his body and he can only manifest in his temples, and WWX helps him escape the confinement. It is (was?) a WIP, featuring Wangji and Bichen having human forms, lwj is the one who helps wwx master demonic cultivation, creepy rituals that transfer the conscience of a past sect leader into Xichen, and the one who received wwx's golden core is jyl. Please?

FOUND!🔒 We'll Build This House on Stone (Altars) by FluffyHippogriff (E, 270k, WangXian, WIP, Romance, Supernatural Elements, Old God LWJ, Dumb Baby WWX, Friendship, WWX Finds an Ancient Altar, what happens next will shock you, Hijinks & Shenanigans, YLLZ WWX, There's Always a Price, But For Once It's Not WWX's Sweet Bod, Angst with a Happy Ending, Explicit Chapters Will Be Individually Tagged, Bichen Sword, Wàngjī Guqin, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Bichen)

~*~

16. Hi I have been looking for a fic I read and cannot find where Wei Wuxian doesn't realise he and Lan Zhan are dating. I believe it had a scene where the two of them go grocery shopping and run into Lan Zhan's ex, Mo Xuanyu, who tries to persuade Lan Zhan that they should get back together. Obviously, since he believes he has now started seeing Wei Ying he says no. There was something about Wei Ying secretly picking up ice cream for Lan Zhan. If anyone can remember it that would be fabulous, thanks! @funny-it-worked-last-time

FOUND! without your new eyes by anaphoricae (E, 66k, WangXian, Modern, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Sexuality Discovery, Self-Discovery, Literal Sleeping Together, mentions of WWX/others and LWJ/others, Drunk LWJ, Teacher LWJ, WWX is a… throws dart… computer scientist, No Angst, Jealous WWX, Flirty WWX, Eventual Smut, Bottom LWJ, Fluff, Non-Sexual Intimacy, WWX's Love Language is Physical Touch, Guess what: even more non-sexual sleeping together, the plot of the fic is just… co-sleeping, call it the Nap Fic ™, Podfic Available, WWX isn't so much 'oblivious' as he is wilfully blocking some feelings subconsciously, WWX 'idk how I feel' to 'I'm gonna marry him' pipeline)

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17. Hello, I’m looking for a short M or E rated fic, modern au, where wwx talks on social media, likely TikTok, about the benefits of having an older partner who knows exactly what he wants and communicates that clearly. Lwj is older than wwx and has some sort of corporate/business job. There is a chance this was a single chapter in larger work that is a collection of short fics.

~*~

18. Hi! I'm trying to find a Lán Qǐrén/Wēn Ruòhán fic that was deleted on ao3. The title was "God & Monsters." I don't know the author's exact name but I know it had "jupiter" in the username. It's an time travel fic where LQR goes back in time when he was younger during his studies at cloud recesses with WRH, JFM, YZY, etc. I just know it's not "Cursed couple." @cherry1928rev

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19. Argh! For FF, I'm looking for a time travel fixit where Su Minshan time travels and nopes out of CR study arc. It's written in his pov, and he's kind of Indiana Jonesing it, studying the burial mounds for forgotten magics. ANYWAY hope think it would be easy to find Su Minshan redemption/time travel as being reasonably unique, but no. I even failed to bookmark it so help!! @mreisse

FOUND? Dark Promises Amid Rising Screams by meyari (M, 88k, SheYao, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Unreliable Narrator, Major character death, Not Really Character Death, Discussion of Genocide, PTSD, Chronic anxiety, Panic Attacks, Warning: JGS, Warning: WRH, Mind Control, Canon-Typical Violence, Politics, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Sacrifice, Asexual Relationship, Aromantic Relationship, Aro/Ace SS, Aro/Ace MY)

~*~

20. Hi! I remember having read this fic where Lan Zhan is face blind and didn't really notice Wei Wuxian came back to life in a different body, because he just recognised wwx's behavior. It was a very sweet fic and I'd love to read it again, but I totally forgot what it was called and I don't think I bookmarked it :(

I'm pretty sure I read it on ao3, but perhaps it could have just been a tumblr post.

I hope someone knows which fic I'm talking about, but I'm also open to other fics where Lan Zhan (or other characters) are face blind. @ifyourelostjustlookforme

FOUND! Faces by osiesaur (G, 1k, WangXian, lwj is faceblind, wwx and lwj are both learning to communicate better, WWX in MXY's body, they're married, LWJ POV)

~*~

[vorfreudevortex]

a portrait of us - nine

a nanami x reader smau

masterlist

warnings: angst lol, slow burn, swearing, a little ooc, a typo or two

notes: 1.6k words and i am only a little sorry

nanami kento had no idea what he what he was doing.

he was not the kind of man who pursued a woman from a relationship that had ended over a decade ago, nor the type to follow one who vanished without a goodbye and hadn’t spoken to him since. in truth, he wasn’t one to chase after any woman at all. his life allowed no time for such foolishness, and he had yet to meet anyone else worthy of that time.

he also wasn’t the type to deviate from his usual schedule and activities. for nanami, saturday evenings were reserved for a leisurely stroll through the park near his apartment, ending in a visit to the grocery store for fresh meat and produce. then, he’d return home to cook himself a hearty dinner, usually indulging in a favorite recipe but sometimes experimenting with a new one.

he’d relish his meal with a glass of expensive, but not too expensive, wine before indulging in a hot bath. his favorite ritual was finishing the bottle with a few chapters of a book while soaking in bath salts and lavender until the water turned cold.

if the book captivated him, he’d continue reading in bed; otherwise, he might watch a nostalgic movie in the living room. saturday nights were his sanctuary, a time to indulge in simple pleasures: fresh air, a home-cooked meal, wine, a book, and a restful night with no morning obligations.

that was absolutely not the case for nanami tonight.

he suspected he might be coming down with something, as he felt unusually off while scrutinizing his freshly trimmed hair in the mirror. this afternoon, he had an impulsive urge to tidy up his undercut and hairline. earlier that morning, he felt strangely compelled to invest in new clothing—a sage green linen blazer and ankle-length slacks, to be precise.

he donned his new outfit, carefully combing through his hair one last time. He wore his usual brown dress shoes, watch, and leather holster over his white shirt, carrying his blunt sword. nanami decided to forgo his beloved spotted necktie, instead folding it neatly into his blazer’s inner pocket, just in case. the outfit felt unfamiliar, and he wondered if the men in fashion magazines felt equally peculiar in such short pants.

nanami was now convinced he had caught a strange cold or flu. why was he wearing sage green? why had he purchased it, knowing he’d likely never wear it again? why was he grabbing a bouquet of sunflowers, your favorite, before locking the door and heading to his car? and although he loved art, why was he preparing to attend a sumptuous gallery opening, filled with wealthy patrons he didn’t want to be around?

as his trembling fingers unlocked the car door, he made a mental note to schedule a doctor’s appointment later in the week.

———

the director placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder as he handed you the microphone. over 250 hands applauded, but their sound was merely a distant murmur. you took a steadying breath as the applause faded and prepared to speak.

“i'd like to thank you all for attending my gallery tonight,” you began. “i never imagined my art would one day be in a museum gallery, and i'm incredibly grateful for this opportunity.”

as the audience applauded again, you searched for satoru, shoko, and the students. you finally spotted them in the middle of the crowd—shoko waved, satoru and yuji gave a thumbs-up, and the other students smiled warmly. you grinned in response, comforted by familiar faces among a sea of strangers.

“i've always gravitated toward modern pieces with bold traits and colors, but i also create works inspired by famous art. i love re-imagining poses, emotions, and other elements from those pieces to capture the redefined aura i perceive from them. i've never settled on a single style, so you’ll notice my art incorporates elements from neoclassicism to impressionism, all on one canvas.”

you silently scanned the audience, gauging their reactions. you noticed the woman from malaysia, with whom you’d spoken with earlier, listening intently with a gentle smile. nearby stood an older gentleman from london, whose questions about your work had left you unsure of his opinion. his bored expression unsettled you, but you took a deep breath and continued.

“um,” you paused. “i want to express my gratitude to all of you, the museum, its patrons, and the director, with a collection of pieces created especially for my first major gallery opening. these have never been seen before and are unlike anything i've ever done. they hold deep personal significance for me…"

you turned to join four staff members, each standing beside an easel draped in black cloth, and positioned yourself next to the largest one in the center. you nodded to them and began unveiling the canvases. gasps and murmurs from the crowd turned to smiles and applause, bringing relief. your eyes met satoru's once more. he stared back, sunglasses in hand, his bright blue eyes piercing into you, mouth hanging open.

the first painting depicted him.

reminiscent of michelangelo's david, your artwork portrayed satoru with rigid, alabaster skin. one hand held a galaxy of stars, while the other formed a circle with his thumb and middle finger connecting. at first glance, the background seemed a deep, black abyss, but closer inspection revealed the painstakingly small, barely perceptible eyes you had meticulously added with matte paint.

this symbolized satoru's unparalleled power in the universe, a singular masterpiece constantly revered yet scrutinized, along with his inability to move and act freely as he wished.

the second painting featured suguru.

inspired by caspar david friedrich's wanderer above the sea of fog, it depicted suguru, his jet-black hair blowing in the wind, standing on a cliff gazing out over a misty landscape of blurred, colorful spheres. it was the dead of night, with no stars, except for a small moon shaped like an eye with a blue iris. unlike the original, your painting allowed the viewer to see suguru beginning to step off the cliff with a relieved smile.

it symbolized suguru's internal struggle with purpose and responsibility, ultimately deciding to take control and let go, as you always knew he would.

the third painting portrayed shoko.

inspired by frida kahlo's the broken column, it depicted shoko with waist-length hair, her face turned skyward, tears streaming down her cheeks. her thin, frail body was torn in half by hands reaching into the frame, revealing her spine replaced by a large surgeon’s scalpel. the background featured a familiar, glowing, traditional japanese door, blurred by smoke.

this represented shock's duty to the jujutsu society, always giving but never taking, until all that remained were her tools and an unrepairable broken body.

the fourth painting was of yu.

you replaced the woman in lawrence alma-tadema's pandora, with the painting ending at the waist. his body was strong and flushed, gazing down at the box with a familiar smile and wide, curious eyes. instead of a floral crown, you encircled his head with a halo of stars, and the background depicted him resting in a serene, lush meadow.

you couldn’t resist creating a more joyful piece for him, symbolizing the grace of his death and much-needed rest while unknowingly wreaking havoc on those near him. only later did you realize the extent of the pain his peace would bring when you first painted the portrait.

the final and largest painting was a portrait you began shortly after leaving japan many years ago and only recently completed. it was inspired by frank bernard dicksee's la belle dame sans merci.

you and nanami.

you sat on a muscular, snowy white horse, anxious and impatient to move on. instead of a pink gown like the original, you wore navy with gold buttons on the chest, torn and splattered with bright crimson blood. your expression held a pained smile, tears streaming down your cheeks.

nanami stood on the ground beside you, one hand clutching your tattered gown, the other ensnared by blades of grass and flowers climbing his wrist and forearm. tears welled in his eyes, but his face remained blank and unreadable. he wore a suit of armor like the knight in the original, but it was dull, dark, and littered with dents, holes, and bloodstains.

this was your most prized work of art, embodying the unspoken goodbye between you and your first love. the anxious horse represented your urge to flee, while the tattered, bloodied gown symbolized the physical and mental toll of jujutsu. your expression showed the relief of leaving and the guilt of doing so. nanami's face masked his betrayal with stoicism, yet tears betrayed him to reveal his grief of losing yet another loved one. the flowers and grass symbolized his responsibilities in tokyo—the lives he needed to protect, the elders to please, and the peers to support.

you looked out at the audience with a bright, confident smile, scanning the patrons’ faces to see if their applause matched their thoughts. you started with satoru, shoko, and the students, all clapping happily, with satoru and shoko waving with flushed cheeks. the bored man from london now appeared intrigued, especially by the painting of suguru.

your eyes skipped over a stiff figure near the back of the audience.

i hadn’t noticed that man here before, you thought.

no.

he’s all too familiar.

your gaze landed on the man with broad shoulders clad in a dusty sage green blazer over a crisp ivory shirt, sandy blonde hair neatly cut and parted. hollow cheeks framed a strong jaw, and soft, coffee-brown eyes bored into yours. 

it simply couldn’t be him… 

no- it simply couldn’t be anyone else.

nanami kento.

next: part ten

tag list // @bubybubsters @sad-darksoul @corvid007 @kenqki @ikon-teen

© vorfreudevortex | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, repost, or otherwise share my work.

[fivelasanctum]

Fivela Manifesto Part 2

((( Had to split it into 2 parts since I broke tumblr with trying to post such a long essay lol ))) ♥ It's something small to note but she described her domestic life as "I'm just trapped in this unending suburban hellscape". Five when discussing with Klaus his feelings of seeing his old, founder Five self dying also used the word 'Hellscape'. "I die a one armed nightmare inside a bureaucratic hellscape of my own design." ♥ Once lila pulls Five onto the subway to check the train out and where it takes them, Five showed in numerous occasions on how protective he was of her. Pulling her down to safety when his past self was sniping at them. Protecting her against a fireball being whirled at them by one of the Phoenix academy students. ♥ When Reggie was helping the family to unlock the memories of what happened to Ben both Lila and Five had the good sense to spectate. Not trusting him. Lila also took this opportunity as Diego was being strapped in to tell him she wanted to re-assess their marriage and go on a break.

♥ Later that day Five and Lila have a short lil' banter after she grabs his arm and leans into his side. Lila: "You thinking what I'm thinking?" Five: "Rarely" Lila: "Their may be a way to stop all this." Five: "The answer is no." Lila: "Hey, you didn't even let me aske the question." Five: "I know I'm going to hate it. Why waste the oxygen?" Says no initially to Lila but always end up caving in to her wants. He does 'aim to please' when it comes to her. ♥ Oh and their song, 'I was made for lovin' you' by KISS played when she had to protect him when they just knew each other for a day or so. Writers hint lol 'Bad Guy' By billie Eilish - rough enemies, sexy song when they first fought each other~

*takes a breath* Well congratulations to those that read through all that lol. Meant to just be a condensed bullet point post but turned into a manifesto essay leading up to the 7 years together. I hope this post can help those on the fence of the couple to see their were plenty of build up for them just more subtle than the more obvious couples like Ray/Allison, Sissy/Viktor and so on. Oops forgot to add: ♥ Lila in season three tried to give him a hug the morning after his drunk night celebrating Luther's wedding. Touched by his lovey dovey speech about the family being bound by destiny and love. Calling him a softy~

[sscieloz]

i would die for richgirl!aeri x studentathlete!reader okay? i have re-read it about 3 times today it’s so cute ajdjakfkakdkskdkkdn yn being an accidental sugar baby is everything to mr

now that I've lurked around my notes for a bit, I realized I actually have a few prompts for that lol, so why not share them right ˆˆ anyways:

richgirl!aeri x studentathlete!reader pt. 2

pt.1 | pt.2

Giselle was needy; her hands were often found on your waist or brushing your neck, not quite teasing— just touching your skin affectionately. You were hers, after all. She ached when you weren’t within her reach.

She did also love to tease, though. Whenever you were having lunch with her friend group in the massive cafeteria, she’d manage to slip a finger under your panties. Somedays you’d make it easier for her, wearing a short skirt and opening your legs at the mere brush of her long knuckles, allowing her to caress your folds as she continued her conversation with the girls, ever so casually.

On other days, though, when you were not in the mood for it, Giselle would huff, sending you annoyed glances as she unbuttoned your jeans with one hand, not even sparing you a glance as she fingered you just the same. Your sweet cunt was hers, and she’d take it whenever she pleased.

That being said, she needed you constantly. Which meant heavy make-out sessions in the hallways, pulling you from your classes so you’d eat her out in the restrooms, demanding you’d always stay somewhere she could see you… Giselle was demanding, but you didn’t mind. You knew how sweet and caring she could also be, whenever you were alone, and you’d never ask her to change her personality. She loved your calm, collected and quiet nature, so you loved her as she was just the same. You’d never ask her to change.

In fact, you couldn’t deny her possessiveness made you aroused, too. To be taken care of and adored by her, not only whenever you fucked, but with the smallest gestures, too. It made you melt, unable to deny her of whatever she wanted to take from you. You felt wanted, she made you feel wanted.

For that reason, you didn’t actually mind being her trophy pet. She was able to maintain her popular mean-girl image around campus as she pleased, for all you could care.

You end up spending even more time with her closest friends: Karina, Ningning and Winter. When they weren’t sending judgmental glares to anyone who crossed their way, they were actually very funny to be around. They cared about each other and were a tight-knit unit, you quickly noticed. The queen bees of your University, indeed.

Usually, you’d engaje on their playful banter, joking around and giggling as they joked. However, being beautiful, spoiled women, they knew nothing about limits, and would sometimes push your buttons too much. Whenever that happened, you were quick to whine to your girlfriend, making sure they’d stop it. Similar to when you were at one of their go-to cafes, right after you had lost an important game. “Come on, Y/n,” Karina said, poking your ribs as soon as she saw the pout on your face. “Don’t be boring like that just because your team fucking sucks.” “Yeah.” Minjeong agreed, focused on her milkshake. She didn't even spare you a glance, as she added. “I mean, don't you practice like every day and shit? Why are you all still so bad… This way, our University will never win any cool prizes.” Even though their words were harsh, you knew by their tone that they didn’t really mean it; they just liked to mess with you, as they did to everyone. You, however, were not having it. The defeat was still too recent for you to play it cool, so you shrank in your seat, turning away from them as you hid your face against your girlfriend’s neck. “Gigi, will you have your friends stop it, please?” You asked, voice cracking, even though you were trying your best not to cry. You’d rather not deal with them, so naturally, your Giselle would handle it— just like she did with anything else that bothered you. “Girls, shut the fuck up.” She commanded, tone imposing as she pulled you closer by the waist. You didn’t look at them, aware of the three girls rolling their eyes and muttering about how pussy whipped Giselle has become. They did stay silent, though, quickly diverting the topic to something else. And you felt the coziest as Giselle’s hands squeezed your waist, offering you reassurance.

She still loves to doll you up, too. There’s not a day when you’re not walking around campus with at least one piece of clothing she’d gotten you, lavish and stylish. You pretend not to notice the little whispers and glares whenever you pass by, reminding yourself that people will always find a reason to talk.

Since it makes Giselle happy, though, you gladly keep wearing her gifts, even if the looks you receive constantly leave you with the urge to run to the nearest bathroom, locking yourself until the end of the classes.

It’s one of the things pisses her off the most about you, too: you frequently forget to take a jacket or a hoodie to class, and it infuriates her to see you wearing Jinni’s when you meet at the cafeteria. “You look so much better wearing my jackets, though.” She murmured, hands finding their way into the insides of your shirt, in attempts to keep herself warm, too. “Come on, baby, take that ugly thing off… I can’t have you wearing that. Ning will let you use hers, instead. She’s never cold anyway.” You try to reason with her, but Ning is already handing her jacket to you, cursing Giselle under her breath. So you only shrug, sending Jinni an apologetic glance as you do as told. You just can’t help it— you’d do anything within reach to have Giselle give you that bright smile of hers.

Speaking of your friend, Giselle has come to terms with Jinni’s presence in your life. She no longer sends the younger girl death glares, or uses her influence around campus to have her benched in games. If only, Giselle’s become friendly, which terrifies Jinni even more. “She’s a menace, Y/n, I’m telling you. And she creeps me out, I’m sorry.” Jinni had told you, someday during practice break. Her words made you laugh, as you shove her playfully.

It was Karina’s idea, actually. Although Giselle knows not to trust her friend’s advice too much; Karina is down bad for any pretty girl near her radar. “Just be a little nice to her, or whatever.” The blonde girl had told Giselle, while critically examining her own nails. “Then have her keep an eye on Y/n for you. It’s not like you can be around her during practice, anyway. This way, you’ll know what’s going on.”

After that, Giselle has been an absolute sweetheart towards your friend, which warms up your heart. She waits patiently for you to go fetch her something, and then her attitude changes; her posture becomes straighter and her stare lacks the usual warmth it has, whenever you’re around. Jinni talks without much effort, blurting around any updates of unpleasant events that had happened during your previous practices, ones you refused to tell Giselle because you knew she’d make someone pay for things that are, usually, accidents. It has become part of her routine, to look out for you even when you refuse her help.

Her favorite thing is to wear your jersey during games. It pleases her deeply to have anyone know who their University’s star-player belongs to— As if she doesn’t make it a well-known fact, in your daily life.

Loves fucking you in the locker rooms, too, making you scream so all of your teammates are aware she owns you. She gets off having people trying to have a peek of you two fucking, too, although she’d never allow it.

At last, your relationship might not be completely understandable to those who are not close to either of you, but you wouldn’t have it any other way ˆˆ.

[sapphicflower-ao3]

what are ur personal favorite fics? i can be a bit picky and have a hard time finding fics but i love ur writing and i feel like we might have similar tastes based on that :3

i'm sorry it took me like a week to get to this!! i wanted to compile my faves and write notes for each of them... and i went overboard LOL. but thanks so much omg, i'm flattered that you would trust my taste based on my writing!

these are all bkdk obviously :)

i. 'In Case of Fire' - passengerside

post-canon // complete // 11K // E

an absolute MASTERPIECE!!! this author has become a recent favourite of mine, i love the way they incorporate little details into their work and make the mundane so beautiful.

highly recommend all of their other works, especially 'Pacemaker'! so freaking beautiful and fun and the lead up to the confession was a genuine holding-my-breath moment

ii. 'Sun Hands' - yesthisisnarumi

snowboarding AU // complete // 5K // T

i've re-read this one so many times it's SOOOOO good! so fun and so classically bkdk it's insane. everybody say thank you OP for giving us the rival olympic champions to lovers story we needed

iii. 'all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing' - maxisnotokay

UA compliant // complete // 11K // T

i dont usually read a lot of whump but this was brilliant, im a sucker for this specific trope and for LOVE CONFESSIONS YEASS!!! obvi it has a happy ending bc i wouldnt have it any other way. a good length too :)

iv. 'Spinnin' On Our Feet' - sage_and_cinnamon

High School AU // ongoing // 47K // M

UNDERRATED AS FUCK and my favourite ongoing fic right now. i usually dont read jock x nerd AUs but this fic is so brilliantly funny and charming and heartwarming and it blew all my expectations out of the water and then some. i've been following it for ages and it's been on hiatus for a good while, but it updated recently and when i tell you it was the best day of my freaking life...

v. 'In Perfect Rhythm' - chalk

Band AU // complete // 50K // E

yes how surprising, a band AU fic in my faves list. anyway shut up, chalk is literally godlike in their writing and this fic was SO FUN and scratched all the itches. nothing gets me going more than awkwardly endearing izuku n rockstar katsuki

vi. 'Last Days of War' - antisora

Pacific Rim AU // complete // 44K // M

GENUINELY ONE OF HUMANITY'S BEST PIECES OF LITERATURE???? fuck. i never have the proper words for this fic, but it is SO gripping and the worldbuilding is so tight and their relationship development is so good and the CLIMAX OF THIS HAS BEEN MORE EPIC THAN HALF THE BLOCKBUSTERS I'VE SEEN. i beg you to read this even if you have never watched Pacific Rim. or maybe go watch the movie and get EDUCATED and then read this! i'm begging you, dear reader!!

vii. 'Ingenium' - crandberrycrush

Astronauts AU // complete // 85K // E

guys i love sci-fi sorry lol. this one is another brilliant fic. OP put so much blood, sweat and tears into research and it shows, it is just very intelligent and the plot itself is HEART RACING and GUTTING and THRILLING. there's a lot of POVs and it really fleshes it out, tho ofc bkdk is the main thing. happy ending obvi! it is the space/astronaut drama that i love and adore, just BKDKified now!

viii. 'The Magic in a Mirror' - totallyrottentomatoes

Magic/Circus AU // complete // 80K // E

oh how surprising, a totallyrottentomaoes fic in my faves list. anyone who knows me knows that i rec this fic all the time. it's one of my all time favourites, if not my favourite of all time lol, and it's really because of the writing and the imagery and the characterisation and the relationships b/w all the characters. it's all just so well done and MAGICAL. no joke, if i could print and bind a fic into a book, it would be this one. no notes. perfection. caters to my tastes so specifically. i could go on about this fic forever but i'll shut up for now

also highly recommend 'The Distance Between Suns' by this author - it's a high fantasy epic with TIGHT AS FUCK worldbuilding, brilliantly written, the romance is BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN, the payoffs are amazing, etc... this deserves to be published and revered

ix. 'Battle of the Bands' - roadtripwithlucifer

Band AU // complete // 168K // E

look i know i always rec this fic, i just can't help that it's like my favourite thing ever. roadtripwithlucifer and totallyrottentomatoes my BELOVEDS. the humour in this fic is so fucking yummy and brilliant, the writing is gorgeous in typical roadtrip fashion, the stakes are gripping, the climax is thrilling, the romance n yearning is INTENSE, the sex is hot as hell, the ending is so satisfying, just..... the whole package.

and while you're here, read other roadtripwithlucifer works like 'Nothing Else Fills' if you feel like destroying your heart :) an angsty and beautifully written time-travel-to-save-my-kacchan-gone-wrong war AU fic. i love OP's works but her more recent fics (eg. after battle of the bands) have had some of her best writing. i adore it when you can feel how an author has poured their soul into their work, you can always feel it in a roadtripwithlucifer work and it's just the cherry on top

x. 'Scar Tissue' - Loriqod

canon-compliant // complete // 18K // E

loriqod is another author with a characterisation that i fuck with so hard... this one was so full of that Yearning and Tension that i so vibe with. bonus points to the plots focus on bkdk's scars like yes pls more of that <3

anyway i might make a part 2 some other time, these are just the ones i grabbed from my public bookmarks. i have a lot of private ones and some of them i forgot to make public oops

hope u find smth u enjoy!