#once again Link knows what he's doing I think

[lumosinlove]

Vaincre

Link to Ao3

~

june part viii

“Hold on, hold—What did you say?”

Sirius stepped out onto the moonlit porch of the cottage and put a finger over his free ear—as if it was his fault he could barely hear the words his little brother was saying. Regulus’ call had come half-way through washing up after dinner, Julian begging for a nighttime game of pick-up, and Hope laughing at Remus for eating the last of the apple pie straight from the dish. He’d assumed he was calling about travel plans, but he hadn’t expected the thumping music in the background or cacophony of laughing voices. 

“I said I’m driving up day after tomorrow,” Regulus shouted, then laughed at something and said hello to someone, telling them to make themselves at home.

Sirius briefly wondered where he’d picked up the phrase and learned to use it so easily. It wasn’t like they’d heard it much. Make yourself at home. Instantly, Sirius thought of that basement bedroom at Pascal’s, and their warm kitchen—the kids doing homework, Celeste and Pascal cooking. Sirius, you don’t have to ask for water or anything else. Please, help yourself.

“I know that,” Sirius shouted back to Regulus, even though he probably didn’t have to. “You—ouais, you already told me that?”

“Oh. I did? Okay!”

“Ouais, I—” Sirius turned as Remus’ face appeared through the screen door, a questioning look on his face.

“You good?” Remus asked. “You’re yelling?”

Sirius pulled the phone away a bit. “I think my brother is drunk calling me.” He pressed the speaker back to his cheek. “Are you okay?”

Remus, obviously trying not to laugh, retreated back into the house.

“I just wanted to call,” Regulus shouted in his ear. “I just wanted to say, see you soon. Just wanted to say I’m glad this is—”

There was a long pull of silence, during which Sirius couldn’t tell if Regulus was talking to someone else, had dropped his phone perhaps, or was just thinking.

“I’m glad…” He began finally. “I mean, I’m glad these things happened.”

He didn’t sound drunk, Sirius supposed. He just sounded…unsure.

“What things?” Sirius asked.

“Everything.”

“What?”

“I just wanted to call you! And hear your voice, Sirius, fuck.”

“Why? Are you okay?”

More cursing, a blend of French and English. “Yes. Nothing has to be wrong for me to want to talk to you.”

“I…Ouais, okay.”

It seemed like he had moved somewhere quieter, but only by a bit. There was still music, low and filled with quick-lyrics, and Sirius caught passing parts of English conversations. Sirius picked out one voice, a girl, who said Regulus’ name and find me later.

“Who is that?” Sirius asked, then felt stupid.

Regulus didn’t hear him, busy telling the girl something before the speaker rustled, back against his ear.

“So. Finn and Alex go running every day,” Regulus shouted over the music. “I mean, when they can. When they’re in the same city.”

Sirius hadn’t known that, but, then again, Regulus probably spent more time with the Cubs. He should stop thinking of them as the Cubs. That had been Finn and Logan during their rookie seasons, and then Leo, but they didn’t really deserve that anymore. Especially not with a Cup.

“I—That’s nice.” Sirius looked towards the lake. The waves were soft tonight. All the boats had long gone home. Did he want to go running together? “I thought you were sort of done with…”

“No, I don’t want to run, I just…”

For the next few seconds, and Sirius pulled his phone back to watch some of the time go by on the screen, there was more silence. This was their way. He wished it wasn’t, he wished he had the right words to fill every part of his brother’s mind until he could cancel out all the wrong ones. But half-finished sentences it was. Half-thoughts that somehow found completion once they both stuttered and tried a few dozen times.

“I’m just saying,” Regulus said. “I’m just saying that when I get there, I’m your brother not your house guest.”

Sirius looked back towards the screen door at that, hoping Remus would be there. House guest? What did that mean?

“Did that sound bad?” Regulus said loudly.

“Non,” Sirius said. “I—non. I don’t—okay.” He was sort of panicking. Dumo would have known what to say. “I’m—sorry.”

“Non. C’est—Non. I’m saying it all wrong.”

Finn and Alex run. House guest.

“I…” Sirius cleared his throat. “Reg, I can barely hear you. I don’t know…I don’t know what else… I didn’t mean to make you feel like we’re…”

Not as good as other brothers.

“I just mean.” Over everything, he did hear the breath Regulus let out. Someone else said his name through a laugh and a hello. “Hi, yeah, come on in.”

Sirius waited, unsure how to have this conversation with music and other people right there.

“I should probably go,” Regulus said. “Sorry, I know you’re with everyone. And I know I’m—it’s loud, sorry. I don’t know.”

“I’m not with everyone,” Sirius said.

“Ha, right.”

Something definitely took a tumble in the background. The music soared up, louder, and Regulus cursed.

“Shit,” he said. “Sorry! Someone—Sirius?”

“I’m here,” Sirius said. “I’m right here.”

“I should…” The next words, shouted like they were talking to each other over a windstorm, still hit Sirius somewhere soft and gentle. “Hey, I get to stand next to you, right? On the day? Your day.”

Sirius pressed a hand over his chest and found the lake blurring through what must be a few tears. That. That had surprised him. It probably shouldn’t have.

“Please,” Sirius said, then laughed a little when Regulus did. “Yeah, you’ll stand next to me.”

“Good. Okay, good.” Someone else said Regulus’ name.

Sirius realized he still thought of him as his quiet brother, half pressed against the sides of rooms so nothing could surprise him.

He felt only pure relief in realizing that wasn’t true anymore.

“I love you,” Regulus said suddenly, a gasp of breath almost. “So. Yeah, I do. And I’ll see you soon.”

“I—see you soon,” Sirius said, staring, unseeing, at the lake. “I love you, too, Reg.”

He sort of forgot to go back inside. He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting on the top porch step until a blanket appeared around his shoulders and Remus sat down close enough to press their hips and shoulders together.

“Is he okay?” Remus asked. “You’ve been out here for a while, I couldn’t tell if you were still on the phone.”

“Sorry,” Sirius said. “I didn’t help with dishes.”

“More than enough hands for that.” Remus turned Sirius’ hand over and traced a line of his palm with his thumb. “Everyone’s gone up to bed.”

“He just said he…” Sirius cleared his throat. “He just wanted to call me.”

Remus nodded. “Okay…Is he all good?”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah, he—he said Finn and Alex go running together when they’re in the same city. And that when he gets here, I should treat him like a brother? Not like a house guest?”

Remus laughed, just a little. “Well, okay, then. Blunt, as usual.”

“I have no idea what any of it meant.” Sirius rubbed a hand through his hair. “I don’t think he was actually drunk? I mean, I don’t know.”

“Sounds like he wants to spend time with you.”

Sirius shook his head, bewildered. “Sounds like he wishes we were Finn and Alex. Merde, or you and Jules. I don’t…”

“No,” Remus said, hand hooking over Sirius’ shoulder. He rested his chin there, too.

“Yes.” Sirius sighed. “I don’t know. He was so… He has all of these friends, and then he said he loved me, and asked if he gets to stand next to me. I thought—I mean, of course?”

“Did you tell him that?”

“Yes.”

“No, I mean before.”

“Well—Before when?”

Remus squeezed his arm. “He might have thought you’d choose James. Or Pascal. Julian said he thought I was going to choose Thomas when I told him he’d be next to me.” Sirius felt Remus’ quiet laugh against his neck. “Then he googled weddings and got all freaked out I was going to make him give a speech.”

Sirius smiled. “Oh God, Reg is not going to give a speech, there’s no way.”

“That’s fine,” Remus said. “We have a lot of people who are going to want to say something. I went with my dad and sorted out the whole music, sound-system situation today. I don’t know if we’re going to be able to stop potential karaoke.”

“Oh God. James.”

“Yeah.”

“Finn.”

“What, you’re not going to sing me a song, Black?”

“There’s a lot of things I’ll do for you…That’s maybe not one.”

“Well, damn.”

“Unless you…like, really want me to.”

“I would never torture you like that.”

Sirius pressed his smile into Remus’ cheek, enjoying the way Remus leaned further against him. Something made the nearby waves pick up, and Sirius closed his eyes, suddenly wanting to be in their room with the windows open, listening to them as they fell asleep.

“We owe your entire family a vacation,” Sirius said. “A long one.”

“For real, though,” Remus laughed. When Sirius put his hand out, Remus laced their fingers together. “Hey.”

Sirius looked down at him. He had more freckles than Sirius had ever seen him with. They dotted across his nose and cheeks. They would be there for their wedding photographs. Something about them made Remus look like he had when Sirius had first met him in his Lions staff jacket. Hi, Sirius? I’m Remus Lupin. Is there anything I can do for you?

Remus hooked a finger in the neck of his shirt, pulling his attention back to right then.

“You’re the one who found a whole new sort of family,” Remus said. “It’s good Regulus is doing that, too.”

“I know.”

“And you’re doing it again. You’re my family and we’re yours. That includes Reg—believe me. If you don’t make him know it, my mom will.”

Sirius smiled. “Hope Lupin versus Regulus Black. That—oh, what’s the thing your dad says?”

“Which thing?”

“Ah…” Sirius squinted upwards, carding a hand through Remus’ hair. “Oh. We love to see it.”

Remus tilted his head back, laughing. “We love to see it. Oh my God. You’re funny that you remember that.”

They leaned their heads together. The waves had quieted. Sirius watched Remus’ thumb make slow tracks over his knuckles and wrist. The woods around them rustled, and a cluster of crickets sang somewhere close by. Sirius still couldn’t believe how many stars he could see here.

“I know we just said how much help we’re getting with wedding things,” Remus said quietly. “And that we owe them a vacation, so we should probably stick around. But…”

“But?” Sirius said, then he couldn’t help himself anymore and leaned in to kiss Remus. He made a soft, happy sound. Sirius pressed his thumb over his engagement ring.

“Do you maybe,” Remus hardly leaned away to speak, “want to drive somewhere tomorrow?”

“Just us,” Sirius said, and kissed him again, then again, in time with the hush of the lake’s shore.

“Just us.”

~

“No.”

Finn laughed as he reached the end of the pier before Alex, catching himself on the railing. He pulled back, letting himself hold on by his fingertips as he tilted his head up to the sky and let out a whoop.

“I win,” he shouted. “I fucking win.”

“I let you win,” Alex panted. He had his hands on his knees and was trying to blink sweat out of his eyes. “Tell me, who’s in the playoffs right now and needs to conserve their strength? Oh yeah. Me.”

“Fuck off,” Finn said. “I’m not even out of breath.”

“That’s because you’re a freak.”

Finn reached forward and flicked the bill of Alex’s cap up, knocking it to the ground.

Alex swiped at him, making to hit him in the groin, but Finn jumped back, out of reach. Alex scowled as he picked up his hat.

Finn turned back towards the water. The day’s heat was catching on now and he adjusted his own cap, pushing his sweaty hair back.

“No training today, right?” Finn asked.

“Nope.” Alex came to stand beside him. “Day off. Tomorrow, though. Morning’s optional. Do you know if Tremz is going?”

“I’ll ask him.”

They walked in the sun until they could cross back across the road and the smooth pavement of the river paths turned into the West Village’s cobblestones. There was a cluster of dogs outside of their regular coffee shop and Finn saw Alex snap a photograph of a particularly glossy golden retriever and send it off to Kasey.

“Are you bringing breakfast back or are they meeting you?” Alex asked.

“Lo’s probably sleeping still—bringing back.”

Alex nodded. “Do you—like urgently, or—Want to sit for a bit?”

Finn raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, I wanna sit. Are you okay?”

Alex turned his hat backwards as they went inside the shop. “Why?”

“You just started three different sentences.”

Alex kept his eyes on the menu. “I just—What are you poking me for, I want to have coffee with you, I’m being nice.”

Finn put his hands up. “Okay. Be nice, then.”

They ordered and found a table out front, so small they had to sit side-by-side to avoid being in the middle of the sidewalk. It was half in the shade of a tree and in the shadow of a row of Citi Bikes. Finn watched Alex fidget with his straw.

“How’s your shoulder?” Finn asked.

“What? Oh, fine. Just one of those things. Doesn’t bother me enough to bother me.”

Finn nodded. “Yeah. Lo’s got that with one of his calves. Doesn’t bother him on the ice but at home he’s all—you know. Harz, Le, can you get that, my leg.”

Alex laughed. “Let me guess. You get it for him.”

“So what if we do?”

“Shocker.”

Finn laughed, shaking the ice cubes around in his cup. “Whatever.”

They watched two beagles pass by, one coming over to sniff intently at Finn’s shoe. Finn asked if he could pet them, mostly trying to give Alex a moment to say whatever he wasn’t saying. He ran his palm over the dog’s soft ears, smiled at the warm kisses of its tongue against his wrist, and nodded his thanks to the owner who continued on.

“They’re not getting married. Yet.”

Finn watched the dogs go for another moment. Their white-tipped tails swished happily in unison. Twins. Brothers.

Finn turned back in his seat and took a sip of his coffee. Alex was looking at him out of the corner of his eye. He had one of his knees bouncing. When it rattled the table, he stopped.

“Hello?” Alex sighed.

Finn put an arm around him and pulled them together. The bill of Alex’s hat, low on the back of his neck, bumped into Finn’s nose, but Finn just held on tighter.

“Al…” Finn squeezed him hard. “Thank God, fuck.”

“I—yeah.” Alex sighed, slumping into him a little. “Guess you were right. I was worried. And sad.”

“I know,” Finn said. He pulled back. “How is everything now?”

Alex laughed, rubbing at his jaw. “Fuck. So much better. It’s like I was using half my lungs or something.”

“Don’t I know that feeling.”

“Yeah, what is up with us?”

“Mm…I don’t know. Maybe mom knows.”

Alex shook his head like he was still clearing the fog of these last months. He turned his face up towards the sunlight coming through the trees. “Yeah, she probably knows. Anyway…”

Finn raised his eyebrows and Alex shrugged.

“There you have it,” Alex said.

“There you have it? C’mon, how’d it go down?”

Alex groaned. “It went down, that’s all that matters.”

“Alex. What happened to telling each other things?”

“There’s nothing to tell. Natalie and I talked and then Kasey and I talked and—I don’t know, I confessed?”

“Al.”

“And I cried.” Alex slapped his hand to his thigh, laughing a little. “Which was—nice. But embarrassing.” He messed with his straw again, the paper scratching against the plastic lid. “I don’t think I even—really knew how worried I was. I think I assumed they would get tired of me. And I was just going to have to be okay with that.”

“I’ll beat up anyone who thinks they could get tired of you.”

Alex smiled slightly. “I’m glad I was wrong.”

“O’Haras don’t do sometimes. We’re all-day-every-day.”

“Ha, yeah. I guess that’s true.”

“So, you’re spending the summer together?”

“Yeah, gonna go to California, train with one of Kase and I’s old teammates. See Natalie’s family. What are you guys doing after the wedding?”

“France,” Finn said. “New Orleans.”

“Fancy you.”

Finn smiled. “Lo’s hoping for a Cup day in August, obviously, and he wants to bring it to Harvard with Percy and Will.”

“You gonna go?”

Finn nodded. “I want to take Leo all around. I mean…If he wants. I think he’ll like it? But I don’t want it to feel like…”

“‘Here are all the things we did without you?’”

“Yeah, exactly.” Finn stretched his legs out under the table. “I want—I’d mean it like, look, this is special now because you’re here, too. I mean, it was special before with just Lo, but it was also just…”

“Sad,” Alex finished.

“Yeah.” Finn laughed. “Are you going to finish all my—”

“Sentences.”

“Al—”

“—ex, stop,” Alex wined, then laughed loudly when Finn punched his arm.

“Okay, I’m done having coffee with you.”

Alex laughed and stood up. “Yeah, yeah, if you don’t get Tremz his chocolate he’ll bite you.”

“I mean, you’re—”

“—not wrong,” Alex said, then jumped out of Finn’s reach.

“Alex.”

“Okay, okay.” Alex lifted an arm and pulled Finn in. “See you later, yeah?” He pulled back and flicked his forehead. “Love you, Fish.”

Finn squinted one eye closed. “If you say so.”

Finn waited until Alex was halfway down the street, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

“I love you, too!” Finn shouted.

Alex turned to laugh, shaking his head.

Finn shut the front door to Logan’s apartment as quietly as he could. He set the croissant bag down on the counter, along with his keys and wallet, humming as he went. There were signs that Leo had been awake. Some coffee in the glass pour-over container, and his phone on the counter.

“Of course you and Remus are both morning hummers.”

Finn turned sharply towards the living room. “Whoa.”

Regulus’ sharp smile flashed and faded from where he sat on their couch. “Hey there.”

“Hi. Sorry.”

“No, my bad, I should have said something.”

“No. I mean—all good.” Finn took down a plate for the pastries. “Does morning hummer mean what I think it means?”

Regulus raised his eyebrows. “Uh. I don’t know. What does it mean?”

“Well…” Finn glanced in the direction of the bedroom. “Well, what do you think it mea—”

“Let’s just drop it.”

“Yeah, good idea.” Finn took a sip of his coffee. “If I’d known you were coming over, I’d have brought you something.”

“It’s all right,” Regulus said. “Leo said I are getting breakfast before I head up to Remus’ lake house tomorrow.”

“Ah, yes. Wedding. Best man, right?”

“I think James thinks he is, but it’s me.”

“Of course it’s you!” Leo emerged from the direction of the bedrooms, freshly showered, and pressed a kiss to Finn’s cheek. “Morning, Harz. You look so cute. Little tomato.”

“Thanks? I think.” He twisted Leo’s gray streak, still damp, once around his finger. “Sleep okay?”

“Second half of the night, yeah.” Leo let Finn run a hand over his hair, eyes closing happily. “How’s Alex?”

“He’s good. I beat him home, so, ha.” Finn put a thumb over Leo’s bottom lip. “Where’s our pet hockey player?”

Leo laughed, took his hand, and kissed it. “Still snoozing.”

Yes. Finn set the plate down. “Cool. I’m going to…” He glanced at Regulus. “Go say hi to him and then shower.”

“Say hi to him?” Leo repeated with a snort. “Okay, call it what you want, I guess. Reg and I are getting breakfast. Oh, and I think we’re going to his friend’s birthday party tonight—you wanna come?”

“Love to.” Finn looked at Regulus. “Is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay,” Regulus said, standing. “Logan, too, if he wants.”

“We’ll see if he feels like he’s gotta lie low,” Leo said. He shrugged at Finn who nodded. Then Leo made a happy sound and wrapped his arms around Finn’s shoulders. “Party with you, I like the sound of that.” He pressed a firm kiss to Finn’s mouth and it felt like sparking wires. “I love you, I love you, you’re sweaty, ew, I love you.” He kissed Finn’s cheeks before whispering in his ear. “I know what you’re up to, you better change those sheets.”

“You got it, lover,” Finn whispered back.

“You guys are really bad at whispering,” Regulus said. He was standing by the door now. “Le, I want waffles.”

“I want that special quiche they had that one time, fingers crossed.” Leo grabbed his wallet and keys, then stumbled a bit when Finn reeled him back in, straight into one more kiss.

“I love you,” Finn said. “Have fun.”

“You taste like summer,” Leo smiled. “See you tonight. Let Lo know and we’ll text you the address.”

“Tell Logan congrats on making the finals,” Regulus called, then the apartment door swung shut.

Finn slipped through their open bedroom door, undoing his watch as he went. He smiled at the sight that waited for him. Logan was sprawled across the whole bed, like he was searching for them even as he was asleep. He was on his back, bare save for the tight gray briefs that he favored, and his chin was tilted up with his arms by his head. The sheets were low enough to show his tattoo. Finn’s heart picked up just looking at him. He could feel himself getting turned on. Logan and Leo both liked making love in the morning, and if Finn wasn’t careful, he’d see every sunrise and get endlessly hopeful each time.

Finn sat on the edge of the bed, pushing his sweaty hair off his forehead. Logan didn’t stir. He put a hand on Logan’s hip, thumbing over the dark ink. Nothing. He leaned over and pressed a kiss right to the center of Logan’s chest. That got a deeper breath, one of only just waking up.

Logan peeked an eye open and then, seeing Finn, closed them again and let a slow, sleepy smile spread over his face.

“Hi,” Finn whispered. “Good morning.”

“Mmm…Cœur.” Logan kicked back the covers. “Did you run?”

“Yeah, just got back.”

Logan stretched, his back arching. By the sly, tired look in his eye he knew exactly what he looked like. “Do you want to…”

Finn nodded, rubbing a palm high over Logan’s inner thigh. “I really fucking do.”

The sound Logan made next was low in his throat and pleased. “Come here.”

“Leo doesn’t like it when I bring outside sweat into the sheets,” Finn said—just to make him ask again.

“Good thing they’re my sheets,” Logan said.

Finn laughed and reached behind him to yank off his shirt. “That’s true.”

He shed his shorts and socks, too, and Logan tugged him down by the band of his underwear.

“If someone told you I was a morning hummer…” Finn mumbled into his kiss.

Logan threw a leg around Finn’s hip and pushed him onto his back. “Who’s someone?”

“Not Leo.”

Logan settled his weight down over Finn’s clothed cock and rocked slightly. He pressed one more kiss to Finn’s mouth before putting his hands against Finn’s chest and sitting himself upright. “Not sure I like that someone else knows that.”

Finn smoothed his hands over Logan’s strong thighs, so warm from being tucked under the covers. “That’s what I thought. Regulus just said—”

Logan froze. “Like, here?”

“Regulus was in our living room. Emphasis on was. Him and Le are at breakfast now, so…”

Logan sighed happily and rolled his hips again. “Oh.”

Finn hissed a breath through his teeth. “Yeah, baby, carry on. He says congrats on making the final round, by the way. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for a few trips to Colorado. Not too many though.”

“Me too,” Logan said absently, more intent on palming Finn through the cotton material of his briefs, then himself. Finn could have lay there forever. He covered Logan’s hand with his and tucked a thumb into the front slip of his briefs to feel the silk of him.

Logan pushed into his touch, then bent to kiss him before reaching for the bedside table. Logan held the jar they kept there out to Finn and bit his lip around a smile.

“Oh, now he’s bashful,” Finn said, taking it.

Logan let loose his full grin and fell forward, tucking his face into Finn’s neck to bite at the sweat-damp skin. It was a bit of a tangle, ridding themselves of the rest of their clothes, and Finn laughed softly at the way Logan splayed his thighs wide over his lap, grinding their half-hard cocks together.

“You smell,” Logan whispered.

“Well, if I recall what I’ve learned about you over these many years—”

But then Logan was kissing him, licking into his mouth until Finn bit down on his lower lip just to hear his low groan. Logan moved down to kiss the salt from his jaw and neck, firm lips and quick dashes of his tongue and sharp, just on the side of not-too-hard nips from his teeth. Finn wondered what Logan would say if he asked him to just cover him in those biting kisses entirely and take his time about it.

“Did you have sweet dreams?” Finn asked, unscrewing the jar’s top.

“I’m in one,” Logan said, pulling back to watch Finn slick his fingers. “Did you have a good run?”

“Yeah,” Finn said, watching the way Logan’s eyes trained on his hand. “Got a chocolate croissant from that coffee shop by the river.”

Logan’s eyes darted to his, affronted.

Finn reached down and smoothed his hand over Logan’s ass. “Don’t give me that look.” He enjoyed the way Logan’s breathing hitched when he dug his palm into his muscles. “I don’t go near a bakery without leaving with something for my Lo.”

“Finn,” Logan whispered shakily.

“My sweet tooth creature of chocolate and sour candy.”

Logan pressed back against Finn’s slick touch.

“Of course it’s chocolate that turns you on.”

“You turn me on—” Logan cut off as Finn’s fingers found home, brows drawing together. His knees tightened around Finn’s hips. “Ah…”

Finn pressed his smile into Logan’s temple, then turned it into a kiss. They had time, so Finn kept his touches slow. The sun was coming through the window, lighting up dust in the air and throwing a warm slant across Logan’s lower back. Logan lay down against his chest and Finn could feel each one of his steady breaths. He kissed Finn’s skin every once in a while. Finn stroked his free fingers through Logan’s hair. It was almost like he was going to be put back to sleep, save for the needy thrum of his heart Finn could feel if he pressed a palm to his back. His skin still held that solid sort of heat he always had when he was sleeping, the warmth Leo and him always pressed their freezing fingers against in the middle of the night. Most people, Finn guessed as he felt Logan’s cock began to get wet between their stomachs, would shy away from any cold touch in their sleep. A slumbering Logan, however, always seemed to give them more room to warm up.

“Feels good?” Finn murmured. He scratched gentle fingers down the back of Logan’s neck and used the leverage of his other, slightly tweaking wrist to press deeper inside Logan’s body. More oil, a third finger that made Logan press his forehead into Finn’s chest and push back against his hand.

“Yeah,” Logan said. “Mhm, fuck.”

Finn rolled his head against the pillow to catch a good look at Logan’s parted mouth and shut, blissful eyes. His lashes cast those gorgeous shadows.

“You’re so fucking strong right now,” Finn said. “Fucking big, it’s…” Logan’s shoulders, the powerful muscles of his back, made Finn’s cock ache. He pressed hard into Logan, gentle with the pads of his fingers, until the corded muscles in Logan’s back shifted like rippling light and Logan gasped out a sound. “God, Lo, I love it.”

Logan’s laugh was a huffy, embarrassed sound, but his cheeks were pink and proud as he pushed himself to sit up, palms on Finn’s chest. Finn’s hand slipped out of him, but Logan was already reaching for the jar, then taking Finn in his hand, in both hands, to give him slow, smooth strokes.

Finn’s hips were pinned by Logan’s weight and he dug his nails into Logan’s thighs, trapped there with nothing to do but try to breathe through the sight of Logan’s scarred-knuckled hands around his cock. Logan watched, too, then darted his eyes to Finn’s face.

“I love your voice,” Logan said softly. His accent, sated already, dragged his words like a hand through clear water. He pushed himself onto his knees and positioned Finn’s cock, pausing to rub it against himself for a moment. “I love when it sounds like I’ve had you already and we haven’t even started.”

Finn just smiled and ran a hand through the mess Logan had left on his stomach. Then he felt the heat. Logan’s heat. It locked around him and Logan’s head dropped back in one, satisfied motion as he worked himself slowly down.

Finn’s toes curled and he dug his heels into the mattress. “Lo.”

“Mm,” Logan smiled up at the ceiling, eyes closed. He didn’t move. He stayed still, adjusting, before lifting himself so Finn could watch his cock slip nearly all the way out of him. Logan’s mouth fell open slightly, lost in the feeling if sinking down again. Finn, looking up from the mesmerizing sight of where they fit together, had expected his eyes to still be closed. But Logan was watching him.

“Sometimes, I can’t believe it’s you,” Logan whispered. He smoothed his palms up Finn’s chest over his heart. “I’m so—” He cut off as Finn accidentally slipped out of him. The sudden lack of contact ached and Finn hissed as his shaft jolted, seeking Logan and dripping beads of want from its tip.

“Non…” Logan began to say.

“Here, baby,” Finn was there, holding his hips and guiding them together again. “God.”

Finn felt his cock pulse, watched Logan feel it inside by the look on his face, saw the gleaming evidence of being as close to the edge as he was when Logan pushed himself up again. Finn splayed his hands over Logan’s ribs.

“So good,” Logan whispered. “You feel so good…”

Finn bent his knees, planting his feet on the bed to lift up into Logan’s body. It was the moments before the fall when he never felt deep enough, when ever part of him wanted to hear the sound of his skin moving against Logan’s more than anything.

He gripped Logan’s thighs, his fingers pressing indents into the strong muscle, and relished in the weight of Logan’s hands on his chest as he tried to keep his balance even as his breathing uneven. Logan reached behind him, hooking an elbow around Finn’s knee and found his rhythm again, letting himself fall down as Finn pushed up.

“Lo,” Finn grit out. It half-occurred to Finn that he should be doing most of the work, that Logan had other performances to pay attention to, but the blinding heat around him banished those thoughts quickly enough.

When Logan began to come, Finn knew he was only halfway there. He didn’t touch himself. Didn’t move to have Finn touch him.

“Ah—Ah—” Logan was loud. Hoarse, panting sounds fell from him that Finn swore were going to make him come. He reached down and pushed on the root of himself, trying to starve it off. Logan wasn’t done.

Logan leaned forward and fucked himself back on Finn in quicker snaps now as he painted strips of white over Finn’s body. Finn tilted his head back into the pillows, relishing the silky splash that reached up his chest, and the rhythmic squeezing of Logan’s orgasm around his cock.

“Fuck,” Finn said, hand circling Logan’s cock in a tight grip. “Oh, fuck, Lo, keep doing that, keep…”

Logan braced his hands on Finn’s ribs and began to push himself harder, hardly lifting off at all.

“Come here,” Logan whispered. He tangled his hands in Finn’s hair, gripping tightly, and kissed him.

Finn didn’t break the kiss as he went, just let Logan lick up his gasps. He pushed Logan onto his back in the rough, tumbling way he liked and hardly gave him any time for a please little laugh before he was grinding his cock into him, aiming straight for what would get Logan close to the edge of another one.

“Uh—” Logan pressed his teeth around Finn’s jaw, then dragged a half-kiss across his cheek until they were kissing as Finn rocked into him. “Yes, yes, Finn, yes…”

“I know.” Finn’s words sounded shaky to himself as he spread his palms down Logan’s back. He kissed the corner of Logan’s parted lips, the side of his nose, the high of his cheek. He caught a flash of green and Logan was suddenly looking at him again. It was written all over his face, how good he thought Finn felt inside. Finn could feel it in the half-smile they gave each other just before it was too much again and Logan dipped his fingers into Finn’s hair and brought their foreheads together. He felt it in the span of Logan’s hand down his back, then the way he cupped Finn’s jaw just to kiss him again through their mixed, heavy breaths.

Finn pressed his cock deep into him, almost straining for more, and stayed, and stayed, sucking a bruise into Logan’s neck until he felt him seize up around him and come between them again with a gasp. Finn smiled to himself.

“Good,” Finn whispered as he began to move again, chasing after his own now. “I’m gonna…”

“Yes.” Logan’s voice stuttered, pleasure that sounded like tears. He was trying to bring Finn closer with every part of him, drawing him in with his heels and the clutching of his hands and his core. He pushed his head back into the pillows and Finn kissed over the curve of his throat. He got a hand around the side of it, thumb just under his chin, so he could keep him like that while he added another bruise.

He thought of the party tonight as he rocked into Logan harder and watched the mark form as he worked Logan’s skin. Logan looked beautiful at parties. Low lights made his green eyes go dark. Anyone could see he was taken now. He’d need to pull Leo aside at some point, kiss him until he got that beautiful, open smile on his face like at the museum.

“Rouge,” Logan’s voice whispered. Two hands on the sides of his face. Logan had sweat beaded on his upper lip. Finn kissed him and slowed his hips. Logan reached down for his waist, coaxing him on. His thumbs were two lovely pressure points against each hip bone.

“Beautiful at parties,” Finn said softly.

Logan’s eyes edged on bewildered at that, but they were happy. They told Finn that Logan knew he’d been thinking about something, could even picture what he’d been thinking, at least a little. They’d always been that way. Logan nodded quickly, bottom lip between his teeth.

He began to fall over the edge at that look on Logan’s face. How had Finn ever convinced himself that Logan didn’t love him?

Logan opened up again at the feeling of Finn emptying inside him. Finn held his breath and closed a tight fist around the pillow beside Logan’s head. For a minute, they were just two heartbeats.

When he could breathe again, Finn peeked out from the warm crook of Logan’s neck. There was that small smile on his face, his eyes closed. He was making figure-eights around the notches of Finn’s spine. Finn shivered, sensitive now, and he eased himself from Logan’s body and tucked Logan into his side.

As he watched, Logan’s throat moved as he swallowed. Finn touched one of the love bites he’d left behind. Logan curled a gentle grip around his fingers, his palm against the back of Finn’s. He kissed the pads of his fingers and opened his eyes to look down at him.

“And what do I sound like now that you have actually had me?” Finn whispered, then winced one eye closed when his voice cracked.

“Sorry, what was that?” Logan laughed through the words.

“Shut up.” Finn ran a hand from Logan’s chest all the way down to the soft bend of his knee. “Oo-Ways.” Finn kissed his shoulder. “Want me to clean up?”

Logan thought for a moment, stretching beneath Finn’s hands. “Non. Shower soon.”

“Want me to bring you a chocolate croissant?”

Logan smiled. “Hm. Chocolate. What a turn on.”

~

Remus rolled the car windows down to let the smell of the lake and trees in, and smiled when he felt Sirius’ hand settle on his thigh as he drove them up towards the mountain trails.

“I still feel bad,” Sirius sighed. “Fuck.”

“Julian is not mad at you.” Remus said. “All we said was that we were going on a date—he can’t be mad that he couldn’t come.”

“But he was,” Sirius groaned.

“Disappointed maybe. He’ll live.”

“He’s going to hate me.”

“He literally could never hate you.”

“He’s going to start liking James more.”

Remus laughed. “Oh. So, that’s what you’re really worried about.”

Sirius just frowned at the sun-streaked road. Remus reached up to ruffle his hair. “Turn left here.”

He’d packed a simple picnic lunch and picked a straight-forward trail to a lookout that he’d hiked to a million times. The earth was spongy and soft beneath his feet as he settled the small lunch box, packed with icepacks, at the bottom of his bag. Making sure Sirius wasn’t looking, he opened it briefly to check all was right, then zipped up his pack.

Sirius started a few paces ahead of him, head forward as he climbed over roots and rocks like they were racing and he was determined to come in first place.

“Hi, I’ll just be back here,” Remus called out. “Your fiancé, trying to take you on a romantic hike.”

Sirius didn’t turn right away, so focused that it took him a moment to register that Remus had spoken. He stopped on top of a flat rock and looked back.

“Quoi? Did you say something?”

“I said I’m just your fiancé, back here, trying to take you on a romantic hike.”

“What?” Sirius laughed and stepped down. He retraced his steps back to Remus’ side. Even in the more mild mid-mornings, sweat already shone on his cheeks.

“Aren’t we trying to get to the top?”

Remus laughed. “Um. We’re going to get to the top.” He tugged at Sirius’ backpack strap. “Doesn’t mean we have to do it in under an hour.”

“Oh.” Sirius’ smile, aimed at the trees, was sheepish. “Right.”

Sirius stuck close to him after that, bending to feel a small stream running past them, or pausing to take Remus’ picture. Remus laughed himself hoarse when the rustle of a rabbit, darting between bushes, caused Sirius to jump half out of his skin. Sirius laughed himself when Remus stepped right into another small stream and walked the rest of the way disgruntled by a soaked sock.

They came to the summit sweating and out of breath, but as the trees opened up to reveal only sky and blue-purple mountains, they both stood quietly.

“Wow,” Sirius said. He turned in a slow circle, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “It’s like we’re the only two left.”

“If there’s anyone I would choose…” Remus began, and Sirius started to smile. “It would be Thomas.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Ouais, sure. Thomas.”

They found a shade-spotted place beneath a tree and Sirius rolled out the blanket from his pack while Remus set out their lunch of turkey sandwiches with cranberry sauce—Sirius’ smile was worth the slightly soggy bread.

“Hey,” Sirius said softly. He turned Remus’ gaze away from his bag with a hand on his chin, and kissed him. Remus had expected it to be quick, and the warm swipe of Sirius’ tongue, then the small scrape to his bottom lip, made him sway and catch himself with a hand on Sirius’ knee. Sirius smiled at him when he pulled back. “Feels like yesterday.”

Remus nodded. From the corner of his eye, he could see his ring. “Yeah, it really does.”

“This is perfect.”

“Wait,” Remus said, then produced from between cold-packs, a half-bottle of champagne.

“Loop,” Sirius laughed delightedly. “Really—C’est parfait.”

Remus began to untwine the wire. “I thought you’d like that.”

They let the sun creep towards their blanket. The champagne in the plastic cups caught the light, and Remus wiggled his nose at some bubbles as Sirius cut into a ripe pear and passed him slices as he went.

“So.” Sirius took a sip of champagne. “Do you think anyone would listen to me if I tried any pull that might get Tremz back?”

Remus leaned back on his elbows. “Hm. Well, it’s not like—I mean, you wouldn’t exactly have to convince anyone on our side. But the Rangers would have to be willing to deal. Money would be the problem.”

“I think about it when I’m trying to fall asleep sometimes. I’d take a pay cut,” Sirius said. “And I wouldn’t ask that of Leo so early in his career, but I bet Finn would, too.”

“And Kasey’s retiring,” Remus added. “That frees up quite a bit.”

“Ouais, this is what I’m saying.”

“But if the Rangers aren’t interested—”

Sirius sighed. “Yeah…Yeah.”

“Logan’s about to get them to a Cup, their first in a long time, if all goes to plan.”

Sirius didn’t say anything, just looked out towards the mountains. He set the core of the pear aside, wiping the leftover juices on a napkin.

Remus sat up again. He rested a hand on Sirius’ sun-warmed neck. “I’m sorry, baby. I know you miss him.”

Sirius nodded. “I do, but… More I just…If we ever got traded apart—”

“La la la.” Remus scrunched up his nose. “No, don’t. We’re drinking champagne, you can’t talk like that while we’re drinking champagne.”

It had been one thing this year, getting used to being on a team with all of his closest friends. It would be something entirely different to be in another locker room, filled with other players—some of which probably wouldn’t trust his experience.

“I was just going to say, if it were me, or you, I’d hope someone would help me. And it has happened. A player leaving and returning. It happens.” Sirius glanced at Remus, then down. “This is going to sound bad, but I am the face of the Lions. When I got here, we were in a horrible slump. I was part of pulling them out of that. Me, James, Dumo, Kasey… Then Finn. Then Logan.”

“That doesn’t sound bad,” Remus said. “That sounds true. That is true. I’d know, I watched it happen.”

Sirius nodded, then groaned and fell back against the blankets, his head pillowed on Remus’ pack. “I’ll try. I just won’t say anything to him in case nothing happens.”

Remus set his cup in the grass and rolled onto his side to be near him. He righted with the 1 and 2 pendants, which had switched to twenty-one.

“I love you,” Remus said. He leaned down to press his nose into Sirius’ cheek, enjoying the slight scratch of his stubble. “I don’t know how anyone calls those grey eyes of yours cold.”

Sirius just smiled, his eyes closing. Remus lowered his head to his chest and felt his arm wrap around his shoulders. The sun felt like it was soaking into his very bones. The champagne had made his head pleasantly buzzy, and Sirius’ heart beat slowly beneath his ear.

“I love you, too,” Sirius said.

He had hardly finished the words when Remus felt one rain drop, two, right on his cheek—and then downpour.

The sky was still blue, even as the sudden shower was came down with such force that for a moment they both merely lay there, staring at each other. Finally, Sirius cracked a smile, let out a surprised laugh, and began to sit up.

“Whoa. Oh my God, shit, the—the blankets.”

Remus’ laugh startled out of him. He shut his eyes and turned his head up to the sky. “Oh my God.”

Distantly, thunder rumbled beneath the rattle of the rain on the trees.

“Here, Re, go under that tree and I’ll—”

But Remus just pushed at Sirius’ chest, getting him to stay where he was. “No. I—no, wait.”

Sirius’ t-shirt was already thin and clinging at his shoulders, carving itself into his muscles. He blinked fast, laughing as the rain ran into his eyes. Up close, there was nothing steely about his expression. He was rainwater. Remus tucked two fingers around the chain of his necklace.

“It’s just rain,” Remus said.

Sirius spluttered a little. “This is—someone turned a tap on.”

But Remus just laughed harder and put his hands into Sirius’ soaked hair. It slipped, silky and dark, between his fingers.

“I want to kiss you,” Remus said. Raindrops ran into his mouth and matted his hair down against his forehead. “I want to kiss you when no one is about to come around the corner or knock on our door our shout up the stairs.”

At that, Sirius stopped trying to salvage their small camp. His hands found Remus’ waist and he lay back on the soaked ground at Remus’ slight pressure. Let their champagne mix with the rain in the plastic cups. Remus wanted to see if he could taste that combination, and he leaned forward and kissed Sirius for the summer storm that he was.

~

Luke liked Saint in his apartment. He liked the steam coming out of his bathroom and the sliver-glimpse he got of his lean body stepping out of the glass-encased shower. Luke looked back to his own reflection in the mirror. He’d ironed his shirt, the soft white linen mostly unwrinkled now. At least, he’d tried. He snapped a quick photo and sent it to Logan with two question marks.

The reply came after a few moments.

Nice!!

Finn was looking over my shoulder he’s better at this - brown belt instead?

On subway also - maybe slow reply

Where are you going?

Luke sent him the link to the restaurant.

But I’ve never been. Finn have favorites?

This reply did take longer. Maybe the subway, maybe Finn thinking. Then a link came through. He tapped on the address and it loaded in Maps, showing a small restaurant, not too far away. The tables were small. Candles. Romantic. A wave of nerves heated Luke’s neck and he glanced at himself in the mirror.

Thanks a lot

“You’re dressed.”

Luke looked up at Saint’s voice. His expression matched the faint hint of surprise it had held. He had a towel around his waist.

Luke set his phone down on the dresser. His heart really shouldn’t be pounding this hard. They’d done this before. These almost-dates. Quiet-never-quite-said-dates. Romantic, sort of, but could be mistaken for anything by the table beside them. Business. Friends catching up.

“Did you want me to lie around naked all evening?” Luke asked.

Saint arched a brow, but he didn’t reply and Luke smiled down at the brown belt he was weaving through his slacks.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Saint stepped in a slow arc around him, as if he needed every detail of Luke. Maybe there was something wrong with Luke’s heart. Maybe love didn’t make everyone feel this way. But it was nice. He wanted Saint to make him explode, actually, he really kind of did.

Logan was on the subway with Finn. They were probably standing or sitting pressed together. Maybe kissing once or twice. Luke had kissed Saint in an Uber, dark and out of view of the driver’s mirror.

“You’re going to be dressed like this, too, in a second,” Luke said.

“Why?”

Logan, talking about Leo coming back from his trip home. That night at that one bar, Logan had spent nearly the whole time pressed into Leo’s side just…content. Just at ease. So at ease.

Luke walked forward and took Saint’s face between his hands. Water dripped from Saint’s hair onto the cuffs of his shirt. Little dark droplets that would dry and fade. He kissed Saint once, then looked at his closed eyes and did it again.

“I’m taking you on a date,” Luke said.

Saint’s eyes opened. He had his mask up, the one he wore over his expressions on the ice. He looked Luke up and down, then moved out of his reach and went to the dresser. His eyes snagged on Luke’s phone, which he’d left open to Finn’s restaurant.

In the mirror, Luke caught a glimpse of a small, bitten back smile.

~

Finn steered them into a liquor store where they picked up small bottles of rum, gin, and tonic.

“I don’t know, it’s probably BYOB?” Finn said, though Logan hadn’t asked. He loved Finn and Leo in these stores, chatting up the sellers, asking advice. “The address is an apartment not a bar. We’ll stop at a corner shop and get you soda.”

Logan let Finn lead. He snapped a photo of Finn examining a wine label and Leo replied hot.

Finn made quick conversation with the man at the bodega, then found them a subway and grinned back at Logan as they walked down the stairs to the sound of a train rushing into the platform.

“You gonna hop it again if I dare you?” Finn asked as he took his phone out to pass them through to the platform.

“Shut up,” Logan replied without looking at him. Finn laughed at him but placed a kiss on the back of his neck.

The train to Brooklyn was crowded, but Finn spied one free seat and motioned Logan towards it.

“You sit,” Logan said. “You’re holding all the bags.”

Finn narrowed his eyes but complied. “I feel unchivalrous.”

“Un—what about a horse?”

“What?”

“Un cheval.”

“Ooh. Yeah, I have no idea.” Finn pulled Logan in until he was standing between his thighs. Logan held onto the rail above them and watched Finn’s eyes drop to the strip of skin it exposed as his shirt rode up. Finn steadied Logan with hands on the backs of his knees, the bottles clinking gently in the bag on his lap. He glanced at the two people beside them, eyeing the headphones over their ears and their noses in their phones, before playfully biting at the waistband of Logan’s shorts, laughing when Logan tangled his fingers in his hair and tugged his head back.

“Tu es un peu chahuteur.”

“Hm,” Finn said. “Eye level.”

Logan just shook his head. He was trying to decide if he was crazy for how Finn caused such a happy pressure in his chest, when he felt his phone buzz in his back pocket. When he checked it, Finn tilted Logan’s phone down to see, then leaned back in his seat.

Logan laughed. “You’re such a baby. Luke’s just asking me if he looks okay for a date.” He turned the phone around. “There, you can see. I think he does.”

Finn glanced at the picture, then turned away in a huffy sort of way.

“Rouge.”

Finn made a show of adjusting the bag of bottles in his lap. He didn’t look up when he said, “Tell him to put a brown belt on instead of black. It’s softer.”

Logan smiled, leaned down to kiss Finn’s head, and typed on his phone. He heard Finn mumble something that sounded a bit like yeah, whatever.

Another text appeared. “He wants to know your favorite restaurants. Little bit fancy.”

“My favorite?”

“You did grow up here, so.” Logan was having a little bit of fun with the pink heat spreading across Finn’s cheeks. His ears. He reached out and rubbed a thumb over the warm shell of his left one. “Where would you take Le and I? Little bit fancy. Summer night. Nothing too heavy, have to play tomorrow…”

Finn worried the inside of his cheek for a moment, eyes on one of the subway ads behind Logan’s head. Finally, he sighed and took Logan’s phone. He typed an address and restaurant name into the text and hit send.

“Merci,” Logan said. “He says thanks.”

Logan let go of the above-head railing completely as the train pulled into another stop, letting people off. The two beside them hardly looked up and didn’t budge. Logan leaned more heavily into the cradle of Finn’s thighs, stabilizing himself as the train jostled forward again. He cupped Finn’s chin gentle and made him look up.

“I love you,” Logan said.

“I’m not jealous of him. I love that you have him, I’d be a horrible person if I didn’t, not to mention a terrible boyfriend,” Finn said. “I’m just—I’m jealous that he gets to see you every day.”

Logan put his fingers back in Finn’s hair, gentler this time. Finn closed his eyes and leaned into his touch.

“I know, Rouge.”

A whole season, Logan thought, not for the first time. How am I supposed to go a whole season without this?

They stood at the address’s buzzer for a few unanswered moments before texting Leo who told them to go around the alley and enter a gateway through the back. It led them to a courtyard, lit up by warm, white lights strung overhead. It was a crowded space, loud with laughter and music. Logan moved around the sparse lawn furniture, which was set out in odd pairs like different pieces had been left behind by different people. Leo. He just needed to spot Leo. Finn was looking, too, eyes scanning the crowd.

Finally, Logan found him, hitting Finn to get him to look. Leo was standing with three people, all of whom were listening to him tell a story. He was wearing a shirt Logan didn’t recognize, a lovely light blue color, and it was unbuttoned enough for Logan to see the pendant of his fleur-de-lis necklace. His chest and collarbones looked warm in the lights strung above the courtyard.

“Jesus,” Finn said. “Look at him.”

Logan chose that moment to trip a little on a loose stone, and Finn caught him with a hand on his chest but laughed so loudly a few people looked at them. Logan bit back a smile and shoved Finn.

“Fuck off.”

Finn just slipped their hands together and began to pull him in Leo’s direction. Logan pulled back, though.

“Wait.”

Finn looked at him, then at Leo, then back. “What? Why?”

“I think we shouldn’t interrupt,” Logan said. “Let’s just…” Logan was enjoying how lit up Leo looked, how much he deserved to be the center of attention like that. “Get his attention, but give him a second.”

Finn wasn’t subtle about it. He waved his hand above his head until the motion caught Leo’s eye then made a heart with his hands and pointed to the table filled with drinks. Leo grinned and nodded. His circle looked, too, and Logan smiled and looked down with hot cheeks when he saw Leo’s mouth form the words, those are my boyfriends.

At the drinks table, Finn’s hands were already swiftly pouring what looked like a gin and tonics.

“Ew,” Logan said.

“They’re for Leo and I,” Finn laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you. Or I would, if you gave me elbow room.”

Logan pushed closer to him. Finn didn’t complain, just settled a hand on the back of Logan’s neck and began pouring coke into a cup one-handed.

“Well, this is familiar. Drinks table, loud music. Mixing you a drink.” Finn reached for the rum. “You gonna watch me flirt with girls from across the room?”

“Ouais.”

Finn raised his eyebrows, looking up from where he was pouring. “Ways? What do you mean ways?”

“Then I’m going to come over and show them you are mine.” Logan took the cup Finn had now filled with ice. “I’d like to do it a few times, actually. Just because I can now. Go talk to someone and I’ll wait five minutes for them to fall in love with you, and then I’ll come over.”

Finn just picked up his and Leo’s drinks, shaking his head, but he was grinning hard. “You think it takes five minutes?”

“It took me two, I think.”

Finn clicked his tongue, but put a foot out to stop Logan from walking. “Come here, Ten, fuck.”

His kiss was soft, even quick, but Logan was surrounded by voices and lights, he could smell the rum in his drink, and it was almost as if he was eighteen and getting everything he’d ever wanted.

“It took me one,” Finn said, then laughed and walked away from Logan’s eye-roll.

When they turned, Leo was already watching them and grinning.

“You’re here.” Leo called when they weaved their way through the crowd. “I—oh, thank you, sweetheart.” He took the drink Finn held out and accepted a quick kiss. “Y’all, this is Finn and Logan. This is Amanda, Harper, and John—it’s Harper’s birthday, this is her place.”

Logan used the introduction time to move around to Leo’s other side. He was more interested in Leo’s lean back in that shirt than whose birthday it was.

“Happy birthday,” he said, offering a small smile to a girl with a pretty bob and brown eyes.

“Thank you,” Harper smiled. “Thanks for coming—wait, which one is which? Logan, Finn, Finn, Logan…”

Finn raised his hand. “Finn.” He pointed. “Logan.” Logan watched as Finn slipped right into his element. “Happy birthday. Wow, this is a great place—courtyard in the city is such a score.”

“Oh my god, right?” John said. Logan met his eyes and realized he had been watching Logan take in Leo. Logan smiled back, maybe a little awkwardly, then looked down at his drink.

“Seriously,” Harper said. “I’m not even sure how I got so lucky.”

“How’d you find it?” Finn asked.

Logan let every part of himself relax. This was a rhythm he loved. Finn, launching into a conversation so easily that he hardly had to say anything, hardly had to do anything except feel it when Leo put an arm around his shoulders and turned his head down for a kiss.

“Hi, Lo,” Leo said in his ear. He carded a quick hand through Logan’s hair. “Oh my God, I didn’t realize it was getting kind of long. I love it. How are you?”

“Good,” Logan said. “You look really good.”

That brought Leo’s smile to a new light. “Thanks, I bought this today. You like it?”

Logan nodded, reaching forward to touch one of the small, white buttons. They had a slight sheen to them.

“Thanks for coming,” Leo said. “I know you’ve got training tomorrow.”

“I missed you this morning, I wanted to be with you.”

Logan knew he should let Leo keep up with the conversation around them, even if he just wanted to ask how his day was, and what he did, and where he got the shirt so Logan could get him more of that blue color.

Leo squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll come to the gym with you tomorrow, I think.”

Logan smiled. “That’ll definitely make it go faster.”

“Wait,” said Harper suddenly, drawing their attention. “So, you’re like—actually…I don’t even know what to call it—like you’re in a playoffs right now.”

Logan blinked, but figured Finn must have said something.

“I was explaining we met through hockey,” Finn said. “And John said I looked familiar, so I was saying about Alex and such, maybe he’s seen his face around.”

“Oh.” Logan took a quick sip of his drink. “Ouai—Yeah. So, we’re about to start the final round. I fly to Colorado the day after tomorrow for the first game.”

“How many games are there?” the other girl—Amanda?—asked.

Logan felt himself smile a little, and noticed Leo and Finn doing the same.

Amanda flushed a bit. “Sorry, that’s probably a stupid question.”

“Non, non,” Logan said quickly, mixing with Leo and Finn’s protests. “Non, it’s—Really, it’s nice to talk to someone who isn’t as, ah…” He looked at Finn, trying to find what he would have said in this situation. What was the thing he said? “Ah, wrapped up as we are in all of it.”

He paused, but Finn stayed quiet and the others were looking at him. “Um. Well, there could be four games, if one of us wins straight in a row.”

“A sweep,” Leo chimed in.

“Or there could be seven, if we really go back and forth.”

“And they’re all in Colorado?”

“Non, we trade off. Colorado, New York.”

“Damn,” John said. “That’s a lot of travel.”

“Tell me about it,” Leo said.

“So…” Harper gestured her drink between the three of them. “You’re all on different teams? That must be hard.”

Leo’s hand tightened around Logan’s waist. He saw Finn glance away.

“Ah, non. We were all on the Lions—Gryffindor’s team?”

“Oh, I love Gryffindor,” Amanda said. “My best friend moved there this past summer.”

Logan flashed a brief smile. “Ouais.” He nodded to Leo and Finn. “They’re still there. I got traded to New York a little while ago.”

“Oh.” John frowned. “Wow. I’m—is it weird to say I’m sorry? That feels weird.”

“Oh, no,” Finn assured him. “Believe me, we’re all sorry.”

“Hey, there are fights in hockey, right?” Amanda asked more brightly. “Do any of you do that?”

Regulus’ laugh reached them before he stepped up on Logan’s other side. “Wow. You two have been here for four minutes and we’ve already got the place flooded with hockey talk.”

“Guilty,” Finn said.

“Wait, so are you, like, famous to some people? To fans? Like would people stop you in the street?”

Logan just raised his eyes at Regulus. They obviously didn’t know who his brother was.

“Yep, got a couple of celebrities in our presence.” Regulus raised his eyebrows right back. “Bow down, I guess.”

“Oh, stop,” Leo laughed. “Finn, honey, come here, I want you to meet someone you’ll like. Lo?”

“Ouais, just going to get some more ice.” It was so hot, even with the sun lowering in the sky, that his drink was little more than watery soda.

When he found the ice again, it was also watery mush. Logan pushed a hand through his hair, cursing softly when it got caught on a knot. Leo was right, it was getting a little long, curling just at the back of his neck.

“Salut.”

Regulus had followed him apparently. He stood on the other side of the table a bit awkwardly, hands in the pockets of his shorts. His t-shirt said I can’t, the Rangers are playing.

Logan laughed, pointing. “I didn’t notice that.”

Regulus smiled and replied in French. Thank God, Logan thought. He was already tired. “A little inside joke. Sirius was livid.”

“Ha, I bet he was.”

“Here. Fresh ice,” He pushed a cooler Logan’s way.

“Ah, great. Hey, thanks for inviting us. I know you probably don’t want all the hockey stuff around but—”

“Non, non,” Regulus said quickly. “I mean, yes. But that’s not—I don’t mind so much anymore. Obviously.” He gestured to his shirt. “Just needed a break, you know? A clean slate for a while.”

Logan nodded. “I get it.”

“Thanks for coming. You’ve got a lot going on right now.”

“Non, it’s a great break. And I’m trying to soak up as much time with the boys as possible, so.”

“You do have a whole summer for that.”

Logan smiled. “But it’s a short summer.” He used a fresh cup to scoop some ice into his drink. “Oh, before I forget.” He checked behind him, but Leo and Finn were across the courtyard. “I got us a cottage for the wedding. When you’re not with Sirius, you should come over and hang out.”

“Oh. That’s cool.”

“The boys don’t know. It’s a surprise.”

“How long are you guys staying up there?”

“Just a week. But we’ll be leaving Loops and Cap—or.” Logan rolled his eyes at himself.

Regulus laughed. “Habit.”

“Yes. One that my new team is not a fan of. But anyway, we’ll all be leaving them alone so, if you want, you should come stay? I know Leo will like that. Finn and I, too. It’s got, like, six bedrooms, so. And a dock. The family I got it from said we can use their boat—motor and sail.”

Regulus took a sip of his drink—Logan couldn’t tell what it was with the opaque red cup. “I’d really like that. If it’s all right.”

“It’s more than all right. I might invite my friend Luke and—and Saint.”

“Deveaux and Montague?”

“Ouais. You can bring someone, if you want.”

“Oh.” Logan swore Regulus’ eyes found someone in the crowd. “Ha, maybe.”

Logan looked over again to see Finn and Leo talking to two girls. He recognized their shared glances and the way they leaned in to catch every word Finn said. His entire chest got warm when he saw Leo switch his drink from one hand to the other and put his hand low on Finn’s back.

“You and my brother are still close.” Regulus said it like a statement, drawing Logan’s attention back to him. Then he added, “Right?”

Logan took a drink, tilting ice into his mouth. “Always.”

Regulus nodded. “Right.”

Logan looked at him, waiting for more, but Regulus didn’t offer anything right away. There was a plastic box of cookies on the table and Logan pointed to them.

“Just cookies? Nothing that’s going to make morning skate rough?”

Regulus smiled. “Yeah, just cookies.”

He took one, too, as if to prove it. “Do you think of him as a brother? Sirius. I know he thinks of you that way.”

Logan paused with the cookie halfway up to his mouth. He wasn’t sure if he was overthinking that question—especially coming from Regulus.

“I mean, obviously not like you. But, yeah, I think of him like that.” Logan took another sip, the rum sweet on his tongue. “Just with—Pascal and everything. And I could speak French with him. And we were with each other when, you know. The pictures. My trade. He’s one of my closest friends.”

Regulus nodded. He stopped nodding, and then nodded again. He snapped the cookie in half and chewed slowly.

“I’m glad he had that,” Regulus said finally. “I was just… All this wedding stuff. He’s got so many people.”

Logan nodded. “Ouais. Yeah, he does.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Logan could see Finn and Leo extracting themselves from the girls.

“He’d give us all up for you, though,” Logan said.

Regulus blinked, eyebrows going up. “I wouldn’t want him to do that.”

“I know.” Logan felt Leo’s hands on his waist, laughing at something Finn had said. He had about two more seconds, holding Regulus’ eyes, to make sure he knew. “But he would.”

Even once Finn and Leo started talking at the same time, Regulus’ gaze stayed on Logan, and he gave a pleased, conceding nod.

[weepingtalecowboy]

People forgot that link definitely worked for his wanted poster

Fanfic prompt : After cadence of Hyrule joined the legend campaign as a hero of legends game

I like to think that legend is as close to being perceived as a threat or demon as a person could possibly be

Like link to the past had all the knights get brainwashed into believing that link was a threat who took the princess

And many people proceeded to headcanon that legend and the knights never really worked it out again and the knights still want to get his bounty

But I like to think that his bounty is justified by the end of link to the past

Because killing every single knight and doing a genocide is outright encouraged in link to the past (I was playing the game like a monstrous child because the knights were mad annoying lol )

Not killing at least ten knights is basically impossible

Would be more accurate to say that legend went and stabbed absolutely every single knight in self defense (or not … I was outright knight hunting the little dudes because it is fun to fight them , diabolical child I was )

But it is very likely that Baby legend massacred most of them as a lil baby in at least SOME cold blood

And instead of them being still brainwashed by the spell they instead just hate him for killing every other knight he saw

Like they probably have horror stories without end

Like what other explanation would the citizens and knights have for link other then being some sort of monster or demon with the appearance of a child

(Like with all the Knights link killed probably some had families or friends who were very much afraid of link and enraged at his deeds)

And the princess just forced them to leave him alone because he “saved” her as if all the murder never happened but she probably cannot do much over the fact that legend did cull half the population of knights and therefore killed the relatives of a lot of families

(We really need to accept that legend is canonically a killer even if it was mostly in self defense )

Then the kid just went into hiding because he was busy with the oracle games and link's awakening in other countries

And then hytopia happens as well but they probably don’t know that link is a serial killer who has a very expensive bounty

Link between worlds ends up at least a few years since link's murder spree and the royal family probably did their hardest to cover up the damage he created and the only logical explanation for why he can just return would be that he just kinda got lucky with bribery accepting neighbors lol

And that he wasn’t interacting to much with people

Honestly like to think that the knights were afraid of him even as they interacted with him in the game as a follow up

Ravio was unaware his counterpart was THIS trigger happy for quite a while

Would be hilarious if he heard rumors about the “incident” that link caused and didn’t take it seriously

They went different ways but know that link is back in Hyrule and also once again in the public eye the people probably quickly rallied up a witch hunt while the royal family really didn’t want to be involved with it anymore because they already did a big thing by pulling strings to get link to have some protection

Any more and they risk the people turning onto them

They get him in a bad spot and he just proceeded to jump into a lake and mermaid away

That probably convinced them that he really was some sort of monster

Rumors grew into a new sort of madness

Then cadence of Hyrule happens and everyone not dancing is asleep anyway in that game except some villages

Cadence probably had no clue about it as well because she was from a different world

But now link straight up can respawn and therefore execution would be a whole different kind of trauma for the knights and angry citizens

Like the royal family probably couldn’t keep it hidden any longer and had to go give the okay at some point (outlawing link is like the easiest way they can get this one under control)

Link gets executed then awkwardly has to escape and nobody was capable of stopping the rumors that link is some sort of demon anymore

Turning into a living sea monster seems unrealistic

But surviving getting executed several times probably tipped the scales over and he got officially into a mess since then

Then linked universe happens as well and legend gets a family out of it

Until they end up in his hyrule and realize why exactly legend is a bitter lime slice of a hylian

He kinda did stuff and is now an outlaw

But also heaviest breathing ever when the chain hears people talking about the time legend got burned at a literal stake yet still is alive

Playing never have I ever with him probably is nightmare fuel

What was he doing to be this much of a cryptic creature that people are genuinely afraid of him

Warriors probably slept with one eye open the day he realized that legend hunted the knights like some sort of eldritch demon when they were hunting him lol

[crowsofdarkness]

Moment Of Weakness: Chapter Twenty Eight

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence, kidnapping, faking a pregnancy.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Note: I just wanted to remind everyone who reads this, there are heavy moments of cheating/having an affair in this story. You might not agree with the actions of "reader" or Bucky but it does pertain to the storyline. If anyone is interested, tags are open for this! Just send me a message or comment!

There is slight smut in this chapter(oral with female receiving and slight pinv)

Tags: @cjand10 @generalmoonpolice @sapphirebarnes @baw1066 @nameless-ken @minami97 @bookofriverr

The rays of the sun broke through the small opening of the curtains, blanketing warmness over Bucky and I as we laid in bed. I had been awake for a while now, simply staring at him, heart swelling in adoration and love. We’d been sharing a bed the last couple of nights, both needing the sense of security from one another. All we would do was lay in each other's arms, that’s it. Even though we were getting close again, I didn’t want to jump right back into everything until I felt I was ready to. 

Bucky’s hair was falling into his eyes so I gently brushed it away, the urge to kiss his plump lips was unbearable. I leaned on my elbow to stare down at him, a soft snore sounding from his mouth. 

As if he felt me staring, Bucky’s eyes slowly opened with a very large smile appearing on his face when we noticed me staring. 

He snuggled closer to his pillow. “Hm, good morning, doll.” 

“Morning,” I smiled back. 

His vibranium arm wrapped around me, pulling me closer into him. I rested my head against his chest and hooked my leg around his waist, locking him into place. This is what our mornings had been spent the last couple of days before Bucky locked himself in his office at home for the day, trying to find more leads on Clint or Natasha. 

Absolutely nothing. It was as if they dusted away, their lives almost forgotten. 

“Are you busy tonight?” Bucky asked while rubbing my back. 

I couldn't help but snicker at his question. He knew that with the hit on me, I refused to leave the house alone. To be honest, I rarely left his house this past week, not wanting to risk anything. There was no way Bucky would let me leave by myself anyway.

“I think my schedule is open,” I joked with a smile while looking up at him. “Why?” 

“Would you like to go out to dinner with me?” 

My breath caught in my throat. “Like a date?” 

Bucky could feel the way my body tensed in his embrace so he gave my hip a soft squeeze. “Whatever you want to call it; a date or two friends getting dinner.” 

I gnawed on the inside of my cheek, debating the offer around in my mind for a few minutes. 

“How about we start it off as friends and see where it goes?” I suggested. 

He smiled, brushing his lips across the top of my head. “As long as you're comfortable, Y/N.” 

My laughter bounced off the small confines of Bucky’s car as he drove us back home, our dinner replaying in my mind over and over. It had been so long since I had someone do everything Bucky did tonight and my heart was swimming. 

It started with him renting a small section of the restaurant for us, him pulling out my chair for me, and the table had a very large bouquet of black roses; my favorite. He already had a set menu for tonight, knowing what I liked, and when we talked he let me talk endlessly as I told him about me; things he didn't know. Not once did he interrupt, only kept his bright eyes on me the entire time. 

Bucky then divulged into his own life growing up and I learned so many things about him that surprised me. Our hands were linked on his lap under the table the entire time, his vibranium thumb pressing light circles on my skin. 

He pulled the car to a stop at a red light then looked over at me. “Have I told you how breathtaking you look tonight?” 

I smiled, my hand resting behind his neck, fingers playing with the end of his hair. 

“Once or twice.”

The car started to move again but I could tell that Bucky was still upset with what happened tonight so I placed my other hand on his knee. 

“You know you could have asked Steve or Sam to hang around. That way you wouldn't be so on edge at some points,”I said. 

“I didn’t like the way the waiter kept staring at you. I couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t try something,” Bucky said while gripping the wheel a bit too hard. “I can take care of you, Y/N.” 

I bit back a laugh. “It could be the fact that the dress I chose was a bit too short.” 

His eyes were laced with darkness as they quickly grazed over my form, slowly licking his lips. I felt my body ignite under his gaze so I shifted in my seat, the air shifted around us and I suddenly wanted to feel him all over me again.  

We arrived back at his house before I knew it and neither of us made an effort to leave the car, only staring deeply at each other. Our breathing synced as Bucky lifted my chin up towards him. 

“So was this a date?” Bucky’s voice was gentle, quiet. 

I nodded without hesitation. “This was the best date I had been on in a very long time. Thank you, Bucky.” 

“Anything for you, doll,” he breathed over my lips. 

The Bucky that I had been around the last few days was different from the one from months ago. He was more attentive towards me, sweet, and willing to take everything slow. All the anger I felt for him had vanished long ago, my love for him outweighing all the bad. 

I was done taking it slow. 

“Bucky?” My voice husked. 

His shoulders shivered. “Yea?” 

My tongue rolled over my bottom lip, it got caught between my teeth. 

“Did you want-.” 

I was cut off by his phone ringing but Bucky ignored it. “Not important.” 

“Are you sure?” I asked. 

“Doll,” he leaned closer to me. “You’re the only thing that matters to me right now.” 

Without a second thought, I crashed my lips to his and he wasted no time either by lifting me into his lap, the steering wheel digging into my back. I scratched and pulled at his hair, doing whatever I could to deepen the kiss. His tongue tangled with mine and I moaned into his mouth when his vibranium hand squeezed my ass to bring our hips closer together. 

I leaned my head back when Bucky began biting and sucking at the sweet spot of my neck, our movements becoming familiar with each other all over again. He remembered exactly where to touch or kiss that would set me off, in the most euphoric way. 

My name fell from Bucky’s lip when I started to rut my hips into his, trying to scratch that itch I felt almost everyday since we came back into each other's lives. 

“Should we take this upstairs?” I asked breathlessly from our kiss. 

Bucky didn't answer, only kicked open the car door and carried me inside the house. We were so engrossed with each other that the text message from Baron Zemo that interrupted us before went unread. 

“Oh, Bucky,” I moaned, nails scratching and pulling at his hair. 

His moans were swallowed by the lips between my legs, his tongue pressing circles on my sweetest spot. I hooked both of my legs around his neck, almost smothering him. Bucky didn’t complain once, only kept his actions up, moving even faster. 

I lifted my hips up from the bed as my orgasm washed over me without warning and cried out his name over and over again in praise. 

Bucky didn’t bother waiting for the white haze to pass from my eyes before he hooked my leg over his hip and buried his dick between my folds. I clenched around him and he let out the most guttural moan which made my eyes flutter shut. 

“I missed this so-,” he slid his dick out but left the tip in.“-fucking much.” 

With a hard snap of his hips, he began to move them erratically, his pace unforgiving and unruly. It was what exactly I needed, my nails grasping at anything I could reach. The sheets of the bed, the skin of his back. Anything. 

“Bucky,” I breathed. 

He buried his face in my neck. “I miss the way you say my name. The way you touch.” 

I whined at the sudden emptiness as Bucky dragged his soaked cock from me to roll me onto my knees. My ass was raised up towards him, ready for whatever he was about to do. 

A hard smack of skin against skin bounced off the walls in tangent my screams when Bucky smacked my ass. 

He leaned behind me, his warm breath cascading over my ear. “I miss the way you fuck. The way you taste.” 

I pressed back into dick, the precum and my own sweet arousal dragging all over the back of my thigh. 

“Please,” I begged. “I need you, Bucky. I need to feel you again.” 

“Doll, you never have to beg me for it. Never again.” 

We shared a moan as he slipped between my folds again. 

Snores filled the room as our sweaty bodies were tangled together, not bothering to cover ourselves with any covers. We had come down from our high a while ago, both of us collapsing to the bed short of breath. Bucky had me locked against his chest, vibranium arm over my stomach. 

Tonight had felt like we never missed a beat, everything between us becoming second nature. The only difference was that Bucky didn’t have to leave, we could stay as long as we wanted together. There wasn’t the lingering regret or shame that we would feel after a night spent together. We didn’t get the chance to talk about us, exhaustion taking over us almost immediately. But there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that things would be different between us. 

For the better. 

That was until the sudden thirst woke me and I let out a small yawn while doing my best to untangle myself from him. 

Bucky whined while gripping me tighter.  “Where are you going?” 

“I’m thirsty,” I giggled. 

He left a kiss on my bare shoulder. “Hurry back. I’ll miss you.” 

I laughed at the tone of his voice and gave him a quick kiss before slipping on one of his shirts and a pair of shorts. 

Not bothering to turn on any lights in the kitchen, I rummaged through the fridge in search of something to drink. That was until I felt a strong arm around my throat, yanking me away and tossing me onto the hard, cold ground. My head smacked against the floor as I let out a strangled scream, feeling hands around my throat now. Fear filled my eyes as I looked up and saw a vicious smile looking down at me. 

“Cl-clint?” I choked out. 

“Miss me?” 

Before I could fight against him, he knocked me unconscious with a swift punch to the side of my head. 

[schraubd]

Constitutional History

My baby's bris was yesterday. The Rabbi came -- the first time we met him, in fact (we joined the synagogue in December) -- and asked me what I did for a living. I told him I was a professor at Lewis & Clark Law School, teaching constitutional law. "Are they going to move you to the history department?", he quipped. Ha ha ha [sob]. For many, many, many reasons, I'm glad I'm not teaching this semester. But for a while now, I've been reflecting on how I teach constitutional law, and in particular how I triage the limited time I have each term. New law keeps being made and the length of a semester stays the same, so there's always a question of what to drop in order to make room for new material. In my classes, I actually teach a fair amount of constitutional law "history" -- that is, going through doctrinal periods whose prevailing law is no longer valid (alongside, of course, the "current" doctrine" as well). For example, I devote substantial attention to the Lochner era of substantive due process and the pre-New Deal federalism/commerce clause cases. More recently, I've kept teaching Roe and Casey even after Dobbs, and Gratz/Grutter after SFFA. I teach the new cases too, of course, but I do think it is important to trace where we came from, and I don't shirk on allocating time to that project.  At one level, these cases are the easiest to prune for space. They aren't good law anymore; one does not need to know them in order to know what "constitutional law" is today. And I suspect there will soon be even more venerable old cases whose holdings are going to be overturned or superseded in the coming years, to be replaced by new upstart doctrines. But as we prepare to enter what in all likelihood will be a very grim period in our constitutional jurisprudence, I increasingly believe that teaching the history is more important than ever -- simply because it demonstrates that the law does not have to be this way. There is nothing inexorable about the choices that will be made, they are not simply the way the constitution is. Keeping alive the flame of alternative possibilities -- legal regimes that once prevailed and could prevail again -- is going to matter, and it is a way of not surrendering to the totalitarian darkness that is attempting to consume us. This, after all, is one thing that conservatives did very well with their "constitution in exile", and I have no shame in following their example. And while the arc may be long and the path may bend, ultimately, mir veln zey iberlebn -- "we will outlive them." via The Debate Link https://ift.tt/gp3LrNR

[bodacioustomato]

Mouthwashing Little Things That Go Hard

Hello Mouthwashing fandom. I'm hyperfixated on this game. It has emotionally made me feel all sorts of things that I can't quite put into words. Sad. Lonely. Wanting to cry and throw up. You know, all that. I have spent quite a bit of time analyzing some shi in this game that stood out to me. See, someone like me loves the little things that hold big meaning in stories. Symbolism and Easter eggs go hard fr as well as attention to detail. And as we all know, this game does not at all disappoint in hiding things. Imma share some of my favorite sequences presented to us and kinda share my interpretations and discussions as well.

Note: not all of these may 100% be correct. These are based on my assumptions. I could be wrong (and maybe overthink lmfao that's valid too). My judgment can be criticized... as I'm not as bright as I want to believe I am

Spoilers!

Right off the bat, I'm gonna say: colors have a big meaning in this game. Each character has their respective colors that are linked to them. We are introduced to this at first with the character dialogs when they speak. And as we know, Curly is white, Jimmy is green, Anya is blue, Daisuke is pink, and Swansea is yellow. I do have theories on what the colors may symbolize with the characters themselves. However, I'll discuss my thoughts a little later on.

The Cake and Cocktail

There are two scenes in the game where we, as the players, are required to craft something in the kitchen. As Curly, we craft his birthday cake. As Jimmy, we craft the cocktail that is used to knock out Swansea. But something I noticed right away on my first playthrough of the game is the coloration of the ingredient packets.

For the cake, as shown, we use the water, gelatin, and sweetener packets. It can be seen that the packets share the same colors as Swansea, Anya, and Daisuke. And if you think about it, the roles of the ingredients kind of reflect off the roles of the crew. Water is important for everyone, which is in a blue packet. Anya is the nurse and an important member of the crew. The gelatin, which is in a yellow packet, is important for its purpose of keeping the cake together, hence Swansea being the ships mechanic and "keeping it together". And of course, the sweetener is in a pink packet, which can explain Daisukes positive attitude and "sweet" touch amongst the crew. But notice that the only packet not used is the green tonic. It is stated that the tonic has a bitter taste, and it's only used when making the cocktail. Kinda ironic as Curly is the one making the cake. I feel like personally, he has these three under control. These ingredients work together to make a cake.

With that in mind, when the time comes to make the cocktail in game, we're playing as Jimmy. The cocktail is used to knock out Swansea, who is guarding outside the utilities room.

At this point of the game, Anya has locked herself in the medical bay. As we have found out earlier on, Anya was assaulted by Jimmy and she's also pregnant. Jimmy has zero regards for Anya's well-being and constantly tries to cut her out of his mind, hence not wanting to acknowledge the problem he created. As shown, when making the cocktail, which requires the blue water packet, it's crossed out and replaced with mouthwash (which I'll discuss the importance of this later too) and the tonic is replaced with the isopropyl alcohol. While trying to forget one problem, Jimmy creates more.

I feel like I can get into more depth with the cake and cocktail... but I can't quite get my words out. I hope you can kind of see my thoughts behind this...

The Board Game

Now... bare with me. I don't remember the name of this game, nor do I really remember how to fully play it. I do remember that you technically win when all four of your pieces are home. We see this board game constantly. But I noticed that as the game progresses, the board game constantly changes. And notice, once again, colors... the four player colors are the same colors as Jimmy, Anya, Daisuke, and Swansea. I see the spots are white, which could reflect back to Curly... though I could be looking too deep into that. Perhaps that has something to do with how as all the events played out in the game, all Curly could do is sit back and watch as the "game" takes place.

This screenshot is the 7 days before the crash sequence. We're playing as Curly. And for a little while in the beginning, the pieces don't change much. We can see a few pieces are out on the board. Notice the blue and green pieces, which might be in reference to Jimmy's assault on Anya. It can be noted that Anya has only one piece in the "home" spot while the rest have more than one.

Hard to tell from this picture, but all of the blue pieces are knocked over. In this scene, this is where Anya locks herself in medical and poisons herself. The other player pieces have scattered across the board.

(Very shitty screenshot) but this is the board right before Daisuke's death. All the pink are knocked over. I think the knocked over pieces are a little foreshadowing of Daisuke's soon to be fate. I don't remember if this is before or after you talk to Swansea, but I do know there's a difference on the board between when Daisuke tells Jimmy medical is locked and when Daisuke goes into the vent.

Once again, shitty screenshot. But this is the board after Daisukes death. Both Swanseas and Jimmys pieces are all scattered across the board.

Here's the board after killing Swansea and when Jimmy cuts off Curlys leg. Every color, but green, is knocked over.

Now this is a little Easter egg I found in one of the dream sequences. I saw other people point this out too. I wanted to go into the game and locate it myself. We see this little Easter egg in one of the sequences after Daisuke's death. Unlike the other deaths, Daisuke's death is the only one that gets brought up more than once. It could be believed that unlike everyone else, Jimmy actually has guilt towards Daisuke's death. I tried to see if I could find anymore game pieces in the game. I couldn't. But this little Easter egg is neat to me.

The Hibiscus Flowers

I think we all know they go back to Daisuke. He wears a shirt that has pink hibiscus flowers on them. Doing research online, hibiscus flowers (especially pink), can represent love, friendship, and youth. Daisuke was a young, very friendly man. However, he was also naive and gullible and viewed everyone as a friend, which his naivety is what got him hurt and killed. And like a hibiscus, which don't bloom for very long, he died young and didn't "bloom" very long either. After Daisuke's death, we see multiple sequences with hibiscus flowers in them. Like stated on the board game, Jimmy constantly sees reflections back to Daisuke after his death, which can hint that Jimmy actually feels guilt for Daisuke's death. It's simple symbolism, but I always love flower symbolism, nonetheless.

The Dead Pixel

Ah yes. This one is very popular and well known, but that doesn't mean it's not still one of my favorite symbols in the game. In this scene, Curly and Anya are talking in the lounge in front of the night time screen. While talking, Anya points out that there's a dead pixel on the screen. Curly states he doesn't see it, only looking at the bigger picture and how it doesn't ruin the illusion. The scene, I believe, can represent how both of them view Jimmy. Anya was assaulted by Jimmy. Curly is Jimmy's friend. While Curly looks at the bigger picture and doesn't see the bad in Jimmy, that's all that Anya sees. She will only see the bad in Jimmy as she will always see the dead pixel. And as we know, Curly doesn't see it.

The Warning Signs

I've seen multiple different interpretations of this scene. All of them make sense if I'm quite honest. You play as Curly, who is on his way to the cockpit to give Jimmy his psych evaluation. However, you're presented down a long hallway and flight of stairs which eventually drops off into an ocean of red water. As you walk through the ocean aimlessly, warning signs, bent ladders, and eerie noises appear. In my eyes, I think this is both premonition as well as foreshadowing. The warning signs appear as you continue to walk through the ocean. You walk right past them, which I believe shows that Curly ignored the warning signs of something bad going to happen. I'd like to point out too that as this scene takes place, the player gets forced into looking in one direction after a while so you can't look at the signs. I believe the ladders that appear come from the discussion a little later on as they represent Curly in a way. They're busted ladders leading to nowhere. He's at the top with nowhere to go. This is a little personal talk between Curly and Jimmy in the cockpit. At the end of this dream sequence, you walk into a big ball of light (sun?). I think that could be subtle foreshadowing of Curlys fate of the crash. It all kind of mixes together as Curlys mistake to see the Jimmy issue is jumbled with his own personal issues. It all leads to his unfortunate situation of the after effect of the crash. Because right after the dream sequence, you're in the cockpit with Jimmy. Kinda funny too because right before this when he was with Anya getting his psych eval. I could definitely be wrong on this one... of course, my thoughts can be criticized.

Mouthwash

What's the name game after, of course. Mouthwash is the main object we see within this game. I'm not gonna lie, I was very stupid at first and had zero idea what the Mouthwash actually represented. Even now, my judgment may be a little off. In my honesty, I think it represents Jimmy. Realistically speaking, surviving off mouthwash alone isn't beneficial at all. Using just mouthwash won't actually help your dental hygiene. It may cover bad breath, but it won't clean your teeth. As shown in the game, the Dragons Breath Mouthwash doesn't actually have a lot of benefits to it as its sugar volume is very high. It has a 14% ethanol measurement. If anything, it'd cause more harm than good. This could be compared to Jimmy's power as captain as he does more harm than good. Jimmys has this constant need to fix everything, which inevitably gets everyone harmed and killed. And if you notice, for the ad on the mouthwash, the company states that they refuse to take any responsibility for damages done by their mouthwash. Sounds familiar, doesn't it? I think anyone can have a stance on what they believe the mouthwash represents in the game. Either way, such a simple item held such a valuable message. I'd like to see what everyone thinks on the 99% part. That I've seen multiple thoughts on the meanings for that.

I think the item of choice being mouthwash is clever. Reading on steam with a Q & A with the devs, mouthwash wasn't their first set and stone choice of an item. I think the choice of mouthwash is so neat because you will have no clue on its importance in the game without subtle context. But thinking about it, thinking of how we use mouthwash, and how its consumed in game, they couldn't have picked a better simple life item.

(Fun fact, each crate had 40 bottles of mouthwash. Jesus Christ did they drink a lot of mouthwash.)

Bed Placements

After the crash, everyone is stuck sleeping in the lounge. There are mattresses that each character uses. What I find interesting and rather sad is the placements of the beds. Jimmys is in the corner against the wall, Daisuke is right next to him, Anya is across from them and Swansea (which isn't visible in this pic) is somewhere else in the room. But what makes me sad is Anya's bed. Its right in front of the motion sensored Polle statue. When you walk over to her bed, it sets off Polle... and I noticed, her bed can be seen by all other beds. Justice for my girl please.

Employee Card Sequence

I believe this scene takes place after Swansea is killed. I think this scene is very neat. I could be wrong, but I believe this scene represents Jimmys guilt. Jimmy starts walking down a long passage with the five crew member employee cards on the walls. But looking closely at the cards, you notice something.

Jimmys employee card is constantly covering Anyas and Curlys.

Even later on, you see that Daisuke's and Swansea's cards are visible. Anyas and Curlys cards are there, they're just constantly covered. Kinda goes to show how much Jimmy is really trying to cut them out of his mind. But I also kind of theorize it could symbolize and compare both Anyas and Curlys abuse they share from Jimmy. Both of them are his biggest victims. Both physically (Anya being sexually abused, Curly being harmed and beaten when under Jimmys "care") and how both of them are constantly berated and talked down to by Jimmy. I really tend to hate how much everyone forgets that Curly is a victim too.

Employee Cards

This isn't necessarily a huge plot related thing, but it is a fun little Easter egg that I like. There are Steam achievements where you find all five employee cards. They're scattered throughout the game and around the ship. It's just a fun little Easter egg, but I couldn't help but notice the location of all five cards. Could there possibly be some irony behind their locations I wonder.

Anya: in the cockpit where the gun case is supposed to be.

Jimmy: by the Polle statue in the lounge.

Daisuke: by the board game in the lounge.

Swansea: in the coffee machine in the lounge.

Curly: in utilities by the cryostasis pod.

(took me the longest to find Anya)

The Main Theme

For being a simple little psychological horror game on Steam, the soundtrack is amazing. The main menu theme, which also plays at the end during the credits, is so good because I think it displays the game perfectly. It sounds so... sad and depressing. I think the song, when listening to it, conveys the feeling perfectly of feeling lost and hopeless in space. To make it even better (worse) you can hear faint sounds of baby gibberish and crying in the background. To think the whole purpose of what leads to the crash in the game is the pregnancy. I give the devs kudos in the music department.

Colors

Now this will 100% be a long shot and my upmost personal opinions. I don't think I've seen anyone discuss this (if you have, I am so sorry, I'm not trying to steal your thunder I swear). I feel like there is some meaning behind the choice of colors associated with the characters. I always think color symbolism is amazing (I'm a little special lmao) and like to dissect it in medias I enjoy. As I have shown a few times previously, there's a color for each character and its constantly brought up throughout the game. So here are my theories on the colors.

Curly: as I said Curly was associated with the color white. This one was very interesting to think of as white has some very diverse meanings. It can represent innocence, honesty, cleanness, hope. In some instance, white can make you feel safe and secure. All of these can make you think of the irony of the situation. But in my own personal opinion, it could mean the more negative meanings behind white. White is at the top of the color grid for any color. It also has no hue or saturation. It could be considered a very lonely color. Imagine a room that's got white walls, white floor, white ceiling. You'd feel trapped and empty in it. I think that's a perfect way to describe Curly's character. Lonely and empty. Not trying to get into full character analysis mode, but Curly is a very sad and lonely character. Before and after the crash, there is no real hope of where he's going next. When playing the dlc for How Fish Is Made, Curly kind of describes his predicament where at home and in space, he's lost. Life just goes by without him. He doesn't know where to go in life. I think white can show how empty and lonely of a character he is.

Jimmy: this is one I was lowkey able to think of right away. Jimmy is presented with green, and I couldn't have picked a better color for him. I love the color green. With that being said, I know quite a few of the meanings behind the color green. Like all colors, green has both positive and negative meanings. But the one meaning behind green that made me say "yep, Jimmy" was envy. Jimmy is envious. We saw that in the beginning with his thoughts on Curly's achievements as captain. Green is also bitter. Green could often times be associated with life and health... it can also be associated with poison and toxicity. Jimmy was supposed to be the "help" they needed but instead became the poison that harmed everyone. I thoroughly enjoy the choice of green.

Anya: now this one is very fitting, and quite frankly sad. Blue can be associated with innocence, trust, calmness. Blue is also a very negative color as it often times represents sadness, fragility, and depression. Anya was going through it on the ship. I wouldn't doubt all the emotions that she was feeling being in the situation that she was put through. A thing that I'd like to point out too is that the specific shade of blue with her is a light blue, which light blue sometimes can be referred to babies and the youth. This same shade of blue is also used later on when Jimmy was talking to Polle (there's theories about Polle representing Anya and the baby, I didn't wanna fit it here because that's a whole lot to discuss lol).

Daisuke: I think this one is also very on point too. Pink is such a bright and fun color. It's such a sweet color no matter the shade. And I think that goes for Daisuke too as he's such a sweet boy who is always so optimistic. Pink can mean kindness, love, positivity, and youth. Once again, pink also has negative meanings too. Pink can represent immaturity, naivety, and ill-confidence. As we know, Daisuke is a young man who isn't quite mature like his coworkers. He's kinda childish and his thoughts can be very unrealistic. He is also very naive as he easily was convinced to go into a dangerous environment by Jimmy. As I mentioned earlier on, the hibiscus flowers are also pink. This was such a good color choice for him.

Swansea: now... I will 100% be honest here, this is the one character where my color theory makes me really second guess myself. A lot of the meanings behind yellow don't really fit Swansea. Yellow can mean intellect and power. Swansea is an old mechanic, so he's had years of building his knowledge. Yellow is a primary color and doesn't have two other colors mix to make it. When I think of the color yellow, I think of happiness, brightness, enthusiasm. Swansea isn't at all a happy person. He was one of the first of the crew to be prepared to not survive. He accepted his fate. However, one yellow trait that makes me think of Swansea is deception and dishonesty. Swansea did lie, did he not? He lied about utilities and kept up with his lie until Jimmy found out. He lied that utilities, which had the cryostasis pods that were supposed to save them, was foamed. He kept up with this lie for his own purpose. I will definitely listen to more theories on this too if anyone has any. I am all for colors. I do want to believe there's more to the color yellow than what I am coming up with.

Not gonna lie, there are a few more things I could've added to this list. The post was getting very long so I did cut out some things. These are just some of the few things in Mouthwashing that stood out and caught my attention. By all means, share some of your favorite moments, symbols, easter eggs. I love the thought put into this game and I love the thought the fandom has put into decoding it.

[noirsdoll]

-> chain of fools

pairing: wesker / experiment!reader

words: 1.7k

tags: dubcon, master/pet dynamic, referenced self-harm, collars and leashes, kinda hybrids??, smut!!

notes: writing porn of my favs sigh.... title and intro inspired by chain of fools by arethra franklin!! ummm i want this man idc what he'd do to me yeah!!

read it on ao3

You’re just another link in his chain. 

A small, insignificant piece of metal, rusted from overuse— all it would take is a nimble pair of pliers for you to break. And for the whole chain to come apart. 

He is something so exciting, you’re like Icarus, every time he gets close is like the sun on your cheeks. It’s dizzying being around him. You’re floating, unable to realize what you’re becoming until you see the final product in the mirror. 

Wesker stands behind you, spectating your reaction, never present as much as he is observing. He’s got a hand on your shoulder, the gentle touch still betrays that inhuman strength of his. 

“What do you think?” He’s so close he could brush his lips against your temple. The proximity is nauseating. 

Your skin has taken on a greyish hue. You raise your forearms to the mirror, displaying them to your gaze and his. A myriad of raised scars. Thin reddened lines of your own making, peppered with circular markings from the needles he’s stuck in you. Like your own rendition of a Starry Night. 

You don’t know what half of the medications were. The polysyllabic words were too much for you, so you just trusted him. 

“Dear?” He asks again and you realize you’ve been staring. A long empty stare back at your own reflection, creating an infinity mirror through your pupils. 

“I feel… stronger…” The white tiles and white walls and white ceiling panels burn your eyes. Everything is melding together. Wesker’s skin is alabaster, devoid of the rosiness of life. You can see the hint of his black veins where the skin is thinner. 

He hums, logging the information. He squeezes your shoulder. The touch burns, any contact burns when you’ve had so little of it. Something is itching the back of your throat, something only he can reach. 

The hand on your shoulder goes to turn your face this way and that. A gloved hand, not latex but something equally as demeaning, slips into your mouth to spread it open. Your jaw goes along with it, baring canines that are much too sharp. 

Wesker leans in closer then, enough for his chin to hook on your shoulder. “Do you feel hungry?”

You think for a moment and then shake your head. You don’t feel hunger, you don’t feel your old emotions anymore, just this overwhelming sensation, like you’re being condensed from every angle. 

Wesker’s other hand is on your lower back. His thumb digs into the divot of your spine, you feel the protrusion just as he does. “Good,” he says, more to himself than you, “good.”

He leaves then, and you collapse to the corner of your room in a heap of limbs. 

The next time you see him, you are at his feet, both in this sprawling dark room, filled with computers and fancy monitors, the buzz of fans and the hum of the screens. 

People drift in and out, they look at you and then look away, like a prolonged stare will make them go blind. They talk to him only, about his job and many other things. 

Wesker’s adorned you with a collar, a leather one. It says something on it, you feel over the embossing with your fingers. Patient, it reads, followed by a string of numbers. In the center, there’s a thick metal ring to which he’s fastened a thin winding chain. Just thicker than a jewelry chain, it clinks as you rest your head on his thigh. 

Every second you spend with him, you feel your thoughts grow muddy. Your memories, wants, and needs all smoothed over once his fingers wind in your hair. His flesh is so cold that it stings, a soothing rush against your warm body. 

Wesker tilts his head to look down at you from his desk. His hand slips down, ghosting over your cheek until you hear the telling clink of the chain. He pulls you up, up, up just to position you in his lap. His thighs part yours, indirectly hiking up the flimsy material of your hospital gown. It’s two sizes too big, the fabric had run down to your knees. Now here you are, baring yourself to him unceremoniously. 

“How are you feeling, pet?” His expression shifts so easily from mean to smug. He is all-knowing and patient, waiting for you to find your words.

Speech comes harder and harder each time you speak, like you’re closing in on your word limit. “Good…” You squirm under his gaze, a bug under a magnifying glass. “Feel good.”

“Is that right?” With one hand on your chain, the other trails behind you. Wesker grabs the base of your growing tail. He digs his thumb into the flesh and you whine, your spine pulled straight. Your hips twitch faintly and you turn away. 

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” He continues to massage your flesh, pleasure washing over you in waves.

You don’t feel in control of yourself, turning back to face him like you’re on autopilot. The light of the monitors shine on his face, casting him in an artificial green. They do nothing to displace his crimson eyes— they glow red despite everything.

“You’re taking well to it,” he says, looking over you, “perfect.”

The praise makes you smile, canines spilling over your bottom lip. He coaxes your mouth open, admiring them once more. Wesker leans in and drags his tongue along your teeth. He licks into your mouth before he kisses you, saliva drools down your chin from where your mouths connect. 

Wesker plays with your budding tail, so close to the curve of your ass. The feeling is indescribable. Each stroke of your tail makes your pussy preen, glistening with slick through the wiry hair. 

He kisses you like he has all the time in the world, your eyes closed as you hear rustling on his end. Then his hand stops massaging your tail just to grab the base and squeeze and your face shrivels up as you cum unexpectedly.

Your orgasm feels like it’s attacking you, you can���t get air down as fast as you’re letting it out. You’re crying out more than you’re moaning, hips stuttering, inadvertently searching for something to fill you up. 

Wesker runs his fingers through your hair, calming you, studying you as he presses the head of his cock into your dripping hole. Your nails dig into your palms, enough to draw blood. You mewl, panting openly into the silence. 

He lets you do the work, grinding against his cock. It fills you up just right, like you were made for it, kissing your cervix every time your hips meet. 

Why is he doing this? There’s so many unanswered questions when you’re around him, it feels like every pitched whine and keening motion are all anticipated—like you are a hypothesis and he’s testing his theory.

He spreads you wide, letting you lean against him as he parts you open like the Red Sea, steadily meeting each torturous grind into you. You moan, drooling all over yourself, mindless and full and unable to remember anything outside the four walls of this facility— anything other than the stretch of his cock and how his fingers dig into your flesh hard enough to bruise. 

You paw at his chest, unsure where to put your hands and what to do about the maelstrom of emotions coursing through you. Your cunt pulses with a need you’ve never felt before. This unwitting, unending subservience to Wesker, a pull as certain and assured as your heartbeat.

The chain clinks and jingles, gentle as it sits between your breasts. You can feel the cold metal against your sternum, cold like him, slowly warming from your body heat.

“Has anyone known you like this before?” He asks, eyes heavy, throat bobbing. A perfect picture of a man, not a hair out of place.

You think and think but you cannot remember. Your memories start and end with Wesker, with that white room and the needles and this collar that is as second nature as your skin.

Your answer ends up being an intelligible string of sounds and noises as you wilt around his cock, melting into a perfect puddle that he, no doubt, was expecting. You have your fill, the sudden lifts and drops of your hips have him violently slamming into your cervix. Yet, you’ve never felt more alive.

You cum a second time, lifting your hips, revealing the sodden state of his cock, coated in your cream, glazed like a donut. More leaks out of your overwhelmed cunt as you mewl and whine despite yourself.

Not needing instruction, you return to your knees and with a trembling stature, go to finish him off. His cum leaves a film of him in the inside of your mouth, it makes you feel as close to him as you possibly can— your tail flops eagerly on the floor behind you. For the first time at the facility, you feel this blooming happiness.

Wesker never touches you again after that.

You are far from perfect.

An amalgamation of various drugs and clinical trials, one of the sparse surviving subjects of the experiments Wesker has run. None of them being ethical, documented, or consensual. He’s very good at making it seem like it’s all three of those things— the only reason he does so is purely because it affords better results.

The virus strain’s growth in you is finally complete. You are something that has never been seen before. A deadly beast of limber frame and lethal strength, a mouth full of sharp teeth and unyielding loyalty. Somewhere along the line your intelligence was lost, but you are still useful.

Wesker takes samples of your blood for replication. Everything he needs for his viral research is housed in your cells. There are still problems that need to be worked out before mass production, of course. Your tendency to self-soothe, your obsessive nature, and your overreliance— more psychological aspects that can eventually be trained out of the incoming fleet.

The heavy chain around your neck weighs you down to the floor, more like shackles than anything truly restrictive— but you lay there as if your bondage is functional. Your loyalty is so intriguing. But you have served your purpose. He has you taken away to be put down.

Because Wesker desires perfection.

[fenya-scribbles]

Collide - Part 1

♥--------♥--------♥

Pairing: Non-Idol!Dancer!Hyunjin x Dancer!Fem!Reader

Other Characters: Non-Idol!bff!Minho, Non-Idol!Jisung

Summary: Dancing alongside Hyunjin is hard, especially because he seem’s to dislike you, but your best friend will not let that stop you. And maybe he also has other plans, who knows?

Genre: fluff, rivals to lovers

Content warnings: none in this one :) 

Word Count: 1,643

A/N: So, I had this idea while I was out on a walk. And I really wanted to write something for Hyunjin, because have you seen the man? He's occupying the first spot on my wrecker list of a reason. Also, yet again, Minsung is a thing here. This is obviously a part 1 and I will add links and stuff when I post the next part :) 

♥--------♥--------♥

The beat blaring through the speakers accelerated, marking the most difficult part of the choreography you were currently learning. It involved spinning and crouching and lots of footwork, and more often than not you lost your balance and had to catch yourself ungracefully with your hands in order to continue the rest of the dance routine. That’s how it went down again this time. You cursed under your breath, knowing full well that not only your instructor and best friend Minho saw it - your fellow dancer Hyunjin did as well. 

When the music stopped, the room was filled with the collective panting of you and the other dance students. You risked a glance at Hyunjin, all sweaty and gorgeous, his eyes fixed on you. Quickly, you turned away again, ears turning red. “Alright, that’s it for today”, Minho said loud enough for everyone to hear, “I’ll see you next week!”

Slowly, everyone scurried towards the door, except for you. You had to wait for Minho to pack up, since he was your ride. When Hyunjin passed you, your eyes briefly met again and he said with a devilish grin: “You’ll get it next time, leftie.” You huffed, but before you could throw anything back at him, he was already out the door. 

“Ugh, I hate him”, you said when you were finally alone with your best friend. “Sure you do, kitten”, he said with a knowing smile. “Oh, shut up”, you said, letting yourself fall onto the bench that went along the back wall of the practice room. “I didn’t say anything”, he said, his hands up in the air, before offering you his water bottle. You accepted, giving him a side eye.

“He calls me leftie, you know”, you said, “because of my two left feet.” “Which you don’t have.” “I still can’t get this choreo right.” Minho chuckled. “That’s because you keep staring at Hyunjin instead of focusing on your footwork.” You let out an exasperated groan. “Ugh, whatever”, you mumbled.

“So, have you thought about the spring competition?”, Minho asked after a short silence. You sighed. He’d been pestering about joining the competition since before it had even been officially announced. It was a yearly tournament hosted by the dance studio. Another one would be held in the fall. The winner would get some money and be spotlighted on the studio’s website and socials. Part of you wanted to join, to further your career as a dancer, but especially after today, you felt discouraged again. You just didn’t feel like you were good enough to enter a competition yet. 

“I don’t know, Min”, you said, “I think I should skip this one.” He furrowed his eyebrows in disappointment. “You still have a few more days to decide”, he said, “just think about it? For me?” Once again, a groan escaped your lips. “What if Hyunjin enters?”, you asked, “I could never beat him.” “You don’t know that, kitten.” Minho gave you an encouraging nudge. “You’re already better than most of my students.” You couldn’t help but smile at your best friends unwavering believe in you. He’d always been like that, which was why you had picked up dancing seriously in the first place.

Minho dropped you off at home, pressing a light kiss to your temple before you got out of his car. “Say hi to Ji for me”, you said, one leg already on the pavement. “Will do.” Minho waved as he drove way, and you made your way to your apartment.

A few minutes later, you enjoyed the hot water in the shower running over your sore muscles. And once again, Hyunjin invaded your mind. The way he moved had you awestruck every time. You’d tried to befriend him in the beginning, but he’d quickly started to throw dismissive comments your way, and so you’d given up your attempts. You didn’t know why he didn’t like you, but that combined with the effortlessness with which he seemed to master every choreography in no time, had you boil on the inside. He just did something to you and you didn’t like it. Or did you?

***

The next day, you found yourself in the middle of the grocery store, when your phone vibrated in your pocket. You pulled it out to see a message from Minho. “Ji wants to know if you want to come over for dinner tonight.” You smiled and send back an affirmative gif.

You loved having dinner at Minho’s place. He was a great cook and you also enjoyed spending time with his boyfriend. You’d been friends with Minho since before they’d gotten together and seeing their relationship build and grow had always given you immense amounts of joy. 

“Y/N!” Jisung flung his arms around your neck as soon as he’d opened the door for you. “I have to show you something!” He barely let you take off your shoes and coat before grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you into the living room.

“Look”, he said, grabbing an acoustic guitar from a stand next to the couch. “Oh, is that the one you’ve been telling me about?” He nodded and put the guitar strap over his head. “It sounds so good, listen!” You let yourself sink onto the couch as you listened to Jisung play a sweet, beautiful melody on the instrument. You marvelled at the way his fingers slid over the strings, as if he’d been born to do just that.

Minho poked his head in from the kitchen. “Jagi, can you serenade my best friend later?”, he said with a grin, “dinner’s almost ready.” Then his eyes went over to you. “Hi kitten!” “Hi Min!” You turned your attention back to Jisung. “It sounds beautiful, Ji”, you said with a warm smile. You meant it, but then again, anything Jisung did on any guitar sounded like heaven. He was a musician for a reason, after all.  “Let’s go eat, hm?” You got up off the couch and made your way to the dinner table, Jisung following shortly behind, after placing his new baby back in the guitar stand. 

Dinner was excellent, as always. The three of you chatted about everything and nothing, laughing over Jisung’s stupid jokes and complimenting Minho’s cooking skills.

“So, Min says you’re not sure about the spring competition?”, Jisung said eventually. You gave Minho a look, but he just shrugged. “I don’t think I’m in competition shape yet.” Minho huffed. “That’s stupid”, he said, “you’re one of my best dancers.” “But I’m not the best. I should train more. Maybe I can enter the fall competition.” Jisung narrowed his eyes at you. “You’re afraid of competing with Hyunjin, aren’t you?”, he asked with a smirk. 

You could feel your cheeks blush. “He hates me, you know”, you said, trying to defend yourself. “He does not hate you, kitten.” “Nobody could hate you”, Jisung added. You shook your head. “You don’t see how he talks to me, Ji”, you replied.

“So, he is the reason why you don’t want to compete?”, Minho asked. You shrugged. “I mean…I guess?” “That’s a stupid reason,” Minho said, a stern look on his face. “There’s still a few days do sign up, you know?” You shook your head. “Can you please just let it go, Min?” He let out a disapproving hum. “Fine, but I still think it’s stupid.” “Yeah, I heard you.” 

Thankfully, both of them dropped the topic for the evening, and after helping with the dishes, the three of you settled on the couch and watched a movie. And even though neither of them brought the competition up again, your mind kept wandering there again and again. And with that, Hyunjin took up residence in your mind again. Hyunjin, with his perfect eyes and his broad shoulders and his unfair ability to rock every hairstyle. Hyunjin, with his cocky smile and his fluid movements and his gorgeous laugh. You would never be able to compete with him. Never. 

***

A few days later you were walking through the dance studio’s hallway, when you noticed a presence beside you. “So”, an all too familiar voice said, “you signed up for the competition, huh?” You stopped in your tracks and whirled around. In front of you stood Hyunjin, looking down at you. He was so deliciously tall, you had to lift your head a bit to meet his eyes. “What?”, you asked. You were sure you'd misunderstood him.

“The spring competition, leftie”, he said with a smirk, “your name is on the list of contestants.” “What?!” You could hear Hyunjin chuckle, as you turned and sprinted to the blackboard that was positioned on the wall a bit further down the hallway.

You scanned the board, finding the list with the contestants for the spring competition - and there it was, your name, right underneath Hyunjin’s. It had to be a mistake. You did not sign up. There was no way your name could be on that list. Unless…

“Minho!”, you yelled as you flung open the door of the practice room. Your best friend was currently practicing on his own, stopping mid body roll as he watched you storm towards him. “You signed me up for the competition?!”

“You’re welcome”, he said with a self-satisfied smile. “What were you thinking?! I can’t compete! Not when he’s my competition!” “Breathe, kitten”, Minho said, placing his hands and your shoulders. “You’re gonna be fine. This is a big chance for you and I couldn’t let your stupid obsession with Hyunjin get in the way.” “Obsession? Min, I’m not-“ He raised his hand, interrupting you. “I know, I know. Just thank me later, okay?” 

♥--------♥--------♥

Fenya's Masterlist

[esteemed-excellency]

I was thinking about this guy again today and what stats he would have so here's some more character info:

Maxed Watchful+Dangerous combination. He was one of the most trusted henchmen of the Cheery Man, no further explanation needed.

Pretty high Shadowy, once again no explanation needed.

Average Persuasive, he wasn't hired for his charm, but he learned to navigate high society etiquette over the years.

Very Dreaded when he wants to be. Nowadays he mostly glares at people.

He knows a bit of the Shapeling Arts and used to help the other goons of the Cheery Man in case of bad wounds. Now he's usually the one to patch Hiram up in case of immediate emergency (he only makes sure Hiram doesn't bleed everywhere, the actual doctor is @waterlogged-detective's Darcy).

Zero Player of Chess, could easily become a powerful player if he wanted but he Does Not Care. Convoluted schemes are above his paygrade.

Relatively good Kataleptic Toxicology, he knows enough to prevent a hangover and brew a few poisons, but doesn't care to max the stat because he thinks that undergoing multiple poisonings to build up a relative immunity is just not worth the risk.

Zero Red Science. He's not fucking with that.

Good Glasswork, knows a lot of cats. He often talks shit about Hiram with the Midnight Matriarch.

He doesn't need Mithridacy because he defaults to his resting disgruntled face to discourage unwanted questions.

Good Monstrous Anatomy, linked to his Glasswork expertise, his parabolan hunting skills are pretty advanced.

Negative Zeefaring. He gets seasick.

He's Steadfast and Austere, and Subtle or Ruthless only when he needs to be. He fights in the style of the School of Hard Knocks.

His connected factions are Criminals, Urchins and Tomb Colonists. For some reason the Bohemians don't get discouraged by his cross expression and they always end up talking to him at Hiram's parties. Their yapping is very distracting when he has a job to do, but they're a fun bunch so he doesn't mind them. They honestly just think he's a good listener, and he always takes care of their collectively owned Terrier.

He has good connections with some of the Widow's smugglers, and he's on good terms with a few old acquaintances from the Topsy King's crew.

For obvious reasons he can't stand the Constables, and he thinks that High Society is annoying as hell, while Hell is too fake and posh. Also, if you ask him, all devils are annoying and every socialite is a phoney.

The Disgruntled Butler was the first character I came up with for the party story. I don't know when I'll be able to keep writing it, so here's the first character art and some info

He worked for the Cheery Man back in the day, and after his death he tried to find an honest job because the henchmen scene became saturated by all the people who attempted to fill the power vacuum. Finding an honest job was harder than he thought, because his main character trait is not giving a single fuck about anything ever, which is great if you're a villainous crook, but it can prove difficult to pass off as a charming trait in a job interview.

No one wanted to hire him so he went to the only person who could easily get him solid fake credentials: that creep who was present at the Cheery Man's death. He was ready to ask for a favour, but he found out that Hiram needed a butler. No one really wants to work for a person who regularly sets his study on fire (Hiram was still in the process of moving his correspondence texts to the laboratory), and who might come home smeared in blood at any given moment. No one from an honest background at least.

He was a little skeptical at first because the pay was too good, and he asked Hiram what exact services were needed, with the experienced insight of someone used to cover up murders for a living. But no extra shady services were needed. After a week spent carefully moving correspondence plates from desk to desk, trying to understand why he began to get so many deja-vus all of a sudden, organising a ridiculous amount of parties, having his soul complimented on by multiple devils, and almost ending up lost in a mirror and possessed, he understood why the pay was so good. But he also knew that no matter what happened, as long as the house was running smoothly, nothing else was his problem. Exceedingly chaotic soirées? Not his problem, as long as the catering is on time. The constables storming in to arrest his employer? It happenes to the best of us. All that scandal? He couldn't care less. A bloodied knife on the floor? Business as usual. He silently judges everything and everyone, though.

He seems permanently annoyed and disgruntled, but that's just his resting face. His blunt manners prompted multiple people to ask him if he's soulless too, but no, he's just unfazed by chaos. He ended up befriending all the urchins who regularly visit the attic, and he considers them family. The only real problem he has to deal with is Hiram, who always manages to bring home all kinds of hazardous items, but he's used to it. The pay is so good for a reason. And he's very good at his job.

[thesadpuffin]

Zelda Reacts Part 6

this has been about 90% finished for such a long time lmao, but hopefully the wait was worth it!! omg it was so fun drawing Link in this armour, it's one of my top faves for sure - HE JUST LOOKS SO GOOD ASFJGHDK

Part 5: Snowquill <<< >>> Part 7: Dark Link

[leenfiend]

i would trust my instincts but they lie to me like i lie to you

[atangledfate]

Nicole was sure that Ivory would warm up to Shard given time, but he did remind them to much of Metal. Ivory was effectively having a panic attack from being trapped inside the capsule. After all Eggman put them inside similar devices once, and then drained them of there very life force. Being trapped had brought so many bad memories back that it was no wonder the little wisp reacted like they had.

Nicole let Pearl rest in her hair, while she turned her attention to Shard. It made perfect sense that he'd have a communicator built in, it did make her plan alot easier. She did have a good plan, though she didn't know if Shard would go along with it. Actually, thinking about the way he'd acted so far he'd probably enjoy getting shot at. She wondered if all Metal units were so self destructive--- Either way she needed the transponder first.

Naturally she was so distracted she didn't really pay attention and grabbed the box--- and yanked her hands back! right he even warned her and she didn't listen!

"oww!---right hot, can we pretend i didn't do that? thanks..."

She was happy her gloves mostly protected her hands though. So it wasn't going to leave any marks or long lasting injury. Besides her foolish pride of course.

" Right, once your hooked in i'll make a broadcast and see if anyone in the recon team can hear us. If we are lucky they still have there com's pack... "

Her hand touched her the device on her wrist again making sure it was intact. Miles had built it to keep her body from emitting that odd signal, and the last thing she needed was for it to overload the coms or worse Shard. Though she didn't think it was that strong, she had no idea what it could do to him. She'd blown up computers, consoles, and everything else before miles gave her the dampener. Without it this mission could go sideways fast.

" Ok--- everything looks good. I'll make the broadcast... lets cross our fingers and hope someone is still out there..."

She tugged her own communicator from her side pack, and linked it to the Shard. Now that they were hooked up she should be able to send an encoded message. She took a deep breath and spoke into the communicator.

" Calling any survivors of Shuttle 7118, this is Lt. Nicole of Restoration recon and retrieval. If you are out there, please respond... "

she stood for a few moments before she repeated the message, with out anyone respond. It was in middle of the third repeat that a response was finally heard. but it wasn't the response she wanted to hear. It made her feel like ice was running through her veins.

" I'm afraid my dear that your friends can't respond, on account of them being buried under a building. It was a rather Tragic end to a foolish endeavor! "

Eggman's voice came through the coded channel and she froze in place at the sound. That deep fear washed over her again and she wanted to run, and hide or worse. Yet all she could do was listen and dread what this meant.

" Oh surprised? Hacking into your coded message is simple--- But had they simply given me your location they could have saved themselves! BUT alas, they were stubborn to the bitter end! but no worries! i'll have your location momentarily! Surrender! or do you wish to be responsible for another would be heroes death..."

Eggman's voice always gave her chills. Hearing it come from Shard didn't do much to quell that fear. But it seemed he'd already killed her whole team---and worse! Confirmed her fears, he was looking for her. He'd attacked the shuttle to get at her? But why? she didn't understand! Was this all about that lab? was he so determined to get his hands on her despite having abandoned her? It didn't make any sense to her and yet--- she couldn't deny what she was hearing! She felt herself fall to her knees and drop the communicator to the ground in her despair.

" ... you should both go... i ... i don't want anyone else to get hurt..."

The Tube acted as a sort of protective shell for the Wisp while inside the Wispeon. It allowed them to give there energy willingly, rather then forcefully. Normally the seal only activated during weapon discharge, but being damaged had caused it to seal up. Luckily Shard was able to pop it open like a cane of soda almost, as the little wisp shot out like a bolt of lightning! Electricity crackled along Shards outer shell as the wisp zipped around the area as a bolt of lightning! charging every metal object around the area in the process before splatting on the pavement and looking disoriented!

Nicole covered her muzzle at the light show and was kind of worried she'd get zapped! she sometimes forgot how much power a single wisp could pack! but it seemed like Pearl was at the very last ok. Nicole knelt down to the little wisp and checked them over but they didn't seem hurt just disoriented. yet as there vision came back the first thing they saw was shard! causing them to zip around nicole before putting itself between Shard and Nicole in a defensive posture!

" Pearl... its ok... i promise, he's not with Eggman..."

It took her a moment to calm the little wisp down as she curled her hands around them. Gently placing them on her head. yet the wisp didn't seem overly convinced as they hummed and made a rude whistle at Shard!

" She's like this with everyone i promise, she'll warm up to you. "

So he had a communication system inside his head? Well that certainly made sense. Though wasn't it risky for him to just tap into Eggman's comms? Or perhaps a wide frequency signal would be enough to draw enemy to them? No first she should probably just link up with her team find out what was happening and not jump to any conclusions. She did have a good idea though as she rubbed her chin eyeing the busted up shuttle.

" Your fire proof right? i mean... i assume..."

She motioned to the downed shuttle

" Think you can tear out the remains of the communications array from the shuttle? the transponder should still be safe inside the protective shell. If we hook you up to it then we can jump onto restorations coded frequency--- basically i should be able to radio my team and find out where they are! which would be a smidge safer then poking a sleeping hornet's nest..."

[quirkle2]

question!

i've been wanting to stray away from lu for a while now and do my own thing with wars n ledge and the rest of the links (mainly bc i feel restricted by jojo's rules/don't agree w her takes, and wanna pursuit my own stuff), but there's one big thing holding me back, and that's lack of views to put it bluntly

if i make my own au and don't tag its content as #lu, then it will most definitely get a fraction of the attention my lu content does. and i know it sounds self-centered of me to worry abt something like that, but i put months of work into the fics i post. i put days of work into each art piece i post. if i work on something for months and then 10 people on ao3 read it and an astounding 0 of them even leave a comment, that will be Devastating to my motivation And confidence

what im asking y'all is this: should i finally make my own au to separate myself from lu and risk the plunge in notes, or should i stay in the lu fandom and suffer?

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

cw rape but im listening to sic transit gloria by brand new and like,,,,fic idea

[fragmentedblade]

Not to be a jingfu on main, but it's so cute that Jing Yuan thought of Fu Xuan with those jelly beans

[bongo-clash]

TWs for: Death, mentions of illness/poison, implied panic attack/flashbacks, and extremely botched ecto-science

-

The Justice League has known Phantom for a while, now. They’ve fought beside him in several battles in the year, and he’s handled every one of them with an inhuman efficiency and grace. His power-set is strange and extensive, but he’s taught them more about the Infinite Realms than any of Constantine’s tomes ever could. About its history, its cultures; about a particular kind of ectoplasmic corruption that only comes with exposure to oxygen.

It’s this particular detail that Batman remembers, when—after years in sort-of remission—Jason’s eyes glow lurid green, and the tidal wave of the Pit’s rage returns. 

It’s hard, to express that level trust, especially with his kid’s safety on the line (one he’s already lost before, that he can’t lose again. Can’t, can’t, can’t). But really, it’s either Phantom or the League of Assassin’s—a group that certainly doesn’t have a great track record of doing right by his children—so Bruce bucks up the most difficult kind of courage, and approaches the other hero after a debriefing. 

“Phantom,” He calls out, just as everyone’s leaving. His hands are clasping the back of the chair he’s risen from; one of his older tactics for preventing visible tremors. “Stay behind for a moment. We need to talk.”

Phantom’s shoulders draw in on themselves just slightly as he waves goodbye to the rest of the group, drifting back towards the meeting table with a sheepish smile on his face. He crosses his legs in the air as he says “Man, I feel like I’ve just been sent to the principal’s office. Am I in trouble?”

Despite the tension lining Bruce’s heart, he almost finds it funny. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Phantom. I just wanted to ask for your input on something.”

“Wait, really?” The hero perks up, neon-sign eyes shining. “The big ol’ Batman wants my help with something? I mean—sure, Bats, what’s up?”

Batman doesn’t allow himself the luxury of hesitance, and speaks before he can even think of sighing. “A few weeks ago, you mentioned your belief in the presence of large sources of corrupted ectoplasm on earth. I want your input on the potential effects of this ectoplasm on a living being.”

Even before Phantom replies, it’s obvious the answer isn’t a good one—based purely on the way the ghost’s eyes turn wide and nervous. “A- a living being? Well, um, I don’t—look, ectoplasm in its most basic form is an obligate anaerobe, right? And corrupted ectoplasm comes from a natural portal destabilising, and oxygen breaking through the initial protective layer. So, you’ve got a sort-of-maybe-sentient—kind of depends—oxygen-poisoned anaerobe getting—what, absorbed into a fully living being? If they’ve had no prior exposure to ectoplasm, then best case scenario’s probably death, Bats.” 

But Jason isn’t dead. And Jason won’t be. 

“…What about a living being who has had prior ectoplasmic exposure?”

He looks at Bruce like he’s hoping this is a hypothetical, but knows with Batman it never is. “So, like, a medium, or…?” Batman only stares. The sigh the ghost gives says more than it should, given he doesn’t need to breathe. “It’s… Batman, if you’re telling me right now that there’s someone out there with even a little bit of a dependancy on ectoplasm, with corrupted ectoplasm in their system—then you need to take me to them. I can’t have any idea how serious this is without more context.”

This isn’t what Bruce had wanted to hear at all. He’d wanted everything to be okay; he’d wanted Phantom to wave him away with a laugh and say it’ll filter itself out on its own in a couple years’ time- and sure, fine, he’d have pushed to the ends of the earth for evidence of that claim, but at least it would have been a little bit reassuring. Jason could be—

No. Jason will be fine. Phantom just needs more context. 

“Friday, 10pm.” Batman finally bites out, and sweeps out of the room with all the steel and confidence of a man who will not be losing his son. 

-

To his credit, Phantom does actually show up on Friday, despite the fact that Bruce hadn’t actually confirmed that Friday would be okay. He’s shuffling his feet like they’re touching the ground hands fiddling with the straps of the backpack he’s wearing, and when he looks up, says nothing at all. Taking the silence for what it is, Batman leads him to the Zeta.

Surprisingly, it hadn’t been all that difficult to convince Jason to show up. Though he tried to hide it, he was worried about Pit, too; he’d described it to them, a few times, that sludge-like haze that took him over, nausea in places that couldn’t be nauseous—he wanted it gone just as much as they did. More than they did, probably. When Bruce had told him someone in the Justice League might know what to do, he’d barely even complained about clearing his schedule for the night.

Phantom takes one look at Bruce’s son, and promptly blanches. 

“Holy shit. Dude, that has to hurt so bad.” Seeming stuck between getting closer and coiling away, Phantom looks at Batman, and then at the Red Hood, back forth. 

Bruce can’t take his eyes off Jason, for all that he can’t see an expression from beneath the helmet. “What is that supposed to mean?” Batman asks, barely refraining from a growl. 

“It’s—you’re like, the closest thing to a revenant a guy can get without being a revenant and, y’know, forming a core. You’ve got some natural ecto in you, but it’s completely swamped by the corruption trying to breach it.”

Jason doesn’t move, but Bruce can see the way his fists clench and unclench at his sides, trying to look relaxed and perhaps succeeding to Phantom, but not his father. “Right, yeah, cool. That’s great,” Red Hood replies, voice made forcibly neutral by the helmet’s modulator. “Laymen’s terms, if you’d be so obliged?”

Phantom shrugs, also trying to look causal- but, unlike Jason, both of them can tell he’s uncomfortable. “Okay, so we’ll call the ectoplasm death energy. You’ve got some of your own—which means you’ve either died, got really close, or you were exposed to natural death energy some other way—and you had that before you came into contact with a corrupted source of death energy. But then you came intocontact with this corrupted death energy, and it got absorbed into your system. If you had a core, which is this thing that ghosts have, that would be, like, urgently bad. It’d basically rot your core once the corruption reached it and you’d cease to exist without intervention.”

He pauses for a second there, just to let them absorb that information before continuing. “As it is, you don’t have a core, so the corrupted ectoplasm- sorry, death energy- isn’t going to kill you or anything. But it’s definitely not good for you. You need oxygen to live, obviously—the natural energy makes you kind of a microaerophile, but we don’t need to worry about that right now, because the corrupted energy is an obligate anaerobe that’s already been poisoned by oxygen contact, and it’s trying to take over the energy you already have to save itself. But… it can’t save itself. All it can do is just keep clinging on so it doesn’t rot away completely. Your energy is renewing itself enough that the corruption isn’t going to rot you by extension, but you can probably feel it doing something, can’t you?”

Jason, apparently, decides this is a ‘helmet-off’ kind of conversation now (he only does that when he finds it hard to breathe; Bruce wishes he could make this easier on his boy—), and releases the catches on the back of his hood with a mechanical hiss. 

“I get angry.” He admits carefully, trying to keep his expression blank. “It feels like somethin’ in me starts rebelling against itself, and I end up lashing out at everything. It… yeah, it does hurt.”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t know about this sooner.” Phantom says, tone soft. 

Red Hood waves him off immediately. “Not your fault. But, you’re here now; can you do anything about it, or is this just somethin’ that’s gonna have to run its course, or whatever?”

“I can separate it,” Phantom answers quickly, reassuring. “It’s trying to cling, but it isn’t actually part of you. The corruption can be removed. The only thing is just, y’know…”

“Know what?” Batman says, suddenly nervous; thrilled beyond beliefto hear that his son won’t have to suffer anymore, but dreading getting his hopes up. Dreading the but.

The ghost looks back at him. “I think I mentioned that normal ectoplasm can be a little bit sentient? Or, well, gain sentience?” Batman nods stiffly, Jason’s glitch between stilling and fidgeting. “Yeah, it’s been clinging to you for a while; this stuff’s probably going to come out as a ghost of its own, and I highly doubt it’s going to be friendly.”

Jason stares. “But you said the stuff can’t exist without leeching off me?”

“Yeah,” Phantom nods, something unpleasant on the tip of his tongue. “It won’t last long without you, but it might try to attack, or reabsorb. You can’t let it reabsorb.”

“Figured that, yeah.” Red Hood scoffs. “We doing this now, or what?”

Phantom hesitates, but assents. “I’ve got some gear in my bag. We can do it as soon as you’re ready.”

…

It takes them a few minutes to get kitted up. Phantom shows them the spectre-deflectors—explaining how he’ll separate the corrupted ectoplasm from Jason, and how he’ll have to put the deflector on immediately after to prevent the corruption from reabsorbing—with Batman wearing one too, just in case. Phantom can defend himself just fine, and the corruption will likely only take a few minutes to completely fade. They don’t even need anything else.

Jason is looking around like he can barely believe what’s about to happen and, quite frankly, Bruce can hardly comprehend it himself. Jason’s struggled with the Pit Madness for years, and to have an option to get rid of it, once and for all? It’s like a dream Bruce never wants to wake up from; he’s wished for this for years. He’s wanted so desperately for his son to be happy without something looming in the shadows, and all at once, it’ll finally be over.

When Phantom asks if they’re both ready, it takes only half a moment to push past the surreality of it all and say yes. Red Hood readies his deflector, and with one crack of his knuckles, Phantom reaches through the man’s chest, and pulls something out. 

…Someone. Phantom pulls someone out of Jason’s chest. 

Someone red, and yellow, and green, and crying. 

Oh God. Oh God.

Jason doesn’t even look up until his deflector’s secured, and Bruce is so, so glad his own was fastened long beforehand, because it’d have dropped from his hands the moment his eyes fell on white-out domino. He’d expected the corruption to look like a monster; Batman had been prepared to steel himself in the face of an incorrigible beast trying its damnedest to cling to his son. He hadn’t expected, not even for a moment, that the leech poisoning his kid would look like a little boy. 

The one he lost in a warehouse five years ago. 

He wants to call out to Jason not to lift his gaze, but like a film in slow motion, his son’s head raises, and his whole body freezes, twitching back like he’s been doused in cold water. He stares like he’s seeing everything, and nothing at all.

Robin—the corruption, turns to Phantom with a snarl on his lips (Its lips. Its. He cannot think of this like his son. He cannot think of this like his son when Jason is right there in front of him). 

“YOU!”It roars, in Jason’s scratchy fifteen-year-old pitch, shooting over to Phantom with its tiny, green-gloved fists clenched tight enough to creak. He hadn’t known it would be able to speak. “What did you do?!”

Phantom looks as if he’s about to say something, but the corruption’s attention has already been diverted. His (its, its, its) eyes are set on Jason. 

“Why did you-?” It cries out, choking on its own tears, face contorting into a grief and an anger Bruce had never seen on his son’s face until it was too late, rushing towards him. Jason takes a stumbling few steps back—and he isn’t fast enough to avoid the corruption’s reach—but it doesn’t matter anyway, because the spectre deflector lights up, and the ghost wails as the shock reaches it. The electricity seems to destabilise it, too; its form glitches and seems to melt a little. 

Bruce feels sick. This corruption that was trying to kill his son is heaving huge, gasping sobs, falling apart at the seams, and Bruce feels like he’s about to throw up. “What’s happening?” He croaks. “It-it hurts, I don’t understand.”

And then it turns its see-through little head to Bruce, teardrops rolling down splotchy cheeks still round with baby fat, and his heart drops right through his stomach and out to the other side of the earth.

“…Dad?”

No.

Bruce stumbles backwards, whole body trembling like his chest’s the epicentre of a personal earthquake, barely saved from falling by a weak grip on the Batcomputer chair. He wants to look away, but all he can see is his baby’s crestfallen face, dying all over again, and he doesn’t want to see this but he can’t stop watching.

The ghost lurches forward again and this time, Phantom silently flicks a hand out, and some kind of green forcefield forms around it. The silhouette of his fifteen-year-old son beats at the shield. His cries are muffled by it, but Bruce can still hear them. He can’t help but think that this is what Jason sounded like in Ethiopia, crying out for a father than would never get there in time. His son’s dying all over again, and he’s just standing there.

“Let him out.” Bruce pleads, voice rasping. “We have to save him.” He can see it through the green tinge of the barrier: Jason’s fading fast. The tips of his fingers and pixie boots are disappearing into thin air. 

Phantom turns to him with utter devastation in his eyes. “Bats, that’s not Jason.” He says, just as the twenty-year-old son that came back tumbles knees-first onto the floor, head leaning forward until his forehead touches stone. It’s the smallest he’s ever seen him in the last five years. 

That’s what snaps him out of it, if only for a moment. He falls over himself reaching for Jason, curling around him like a blanket of kevlar and heartbreak. This close to his son’s head, he can hear the quiet hiccuping of tears. 

They sit there, for the world’s most unbearable two minutes, as a version of his son pretending to be his son sobs and screams and falls apart. Bruce’s surroundings blur between the cave and a warehouse on the horizon, shimmering like a mirage under a hot African sun—his son is right here, safe in his hold, but he’s dying over and over, infinitely again, and Bruce can never stop it. 

Two minutes later, the world rings out with “Dad, I’m sorry!” and a muted scream, before silence is the only thing that’s left. 

…

Phantom gives his boy a completely clean bill of health, promises that his uncorrupted ectoplasm will sustain itself just fine without any further intervention, and leaves the moment Batman asks him to. 

Jason is free from the corruption that had been draining him like a leech for the last five years, and so long as he doesn’t go back to the Pit, he’ll be free of it for the rest of his life. He won’t have to hurt people with an anger he can’t control anymore; Bruce will no longer have to watch his son suffer from a rot welling deep within him ever again. 

This should be one of the happiest days of his life. But that night, he and his second oldest walk to a hill with a tombstone at its peak, hiding beneath the shade of a yew tree; neither of them acknowledge that the other is crying beyond the barest glimpse of fingertips ghosting together. 

In time, this will be a good day, but the relief comes later. For now, they sit down beside each other, worlds away, and don’t move until the sun rises the next morning.

(Jason apologises to a boy he will never be again—that he left in a coffin and never took with him—and Bruce apologises to son he could never save in time. In the end, the only evidence they have of their grief at all is a phantom scream in the wells of their ears, and a stone on the top of a hill with nothing underneath it at all.)

Short DPXDC Prompts #770

Danny cures Jason’s pit madness.. only issue is the pit madness reforms as an evil ghost

[domjaehyun]

the need to know (l.dh) —part one

PAIRING. sneaky link!fwb!haechan x fem!reader  GENRE. smut, fluff, mild angst, some humor CONTENTS. mentions of marijuana, explicit smut (unprotected sex, oral (receiving), overstimulation, praise kink, dom!haechan, switch!reader, breast play, nothing too crazy in this fic dw) WORD COUNT. in total, 40.4k, 13.5k in part one SUMMARY. you and haechan have undoubtedly had tension for the majority of your friendship. what happens when you act on it? PLAYLIST. the need to know (feat. sza) - wale // notice me - sza NOTES. i hope you enjoy! if you’re subscribed to my patreon, this fic is already published in full over there :) the next part will be up on wednesday, december 11th! :) friendly reminder that leaving nice feedback is incredibly sexy and very appreciated!

“I feel like we’ve been in line for these bumper cars for twenty minutes,” Haechan groans.

You check your phone and roll your eyes. “It’s been eight.”

“Well, eight too many! What’s taking so long?” he complains, standing on his tiptoes to peer over the numerous heads in front of you.

“Patience is a virtue,” Jihyo chimes in, and Haechan huffs.

“Well, I’m running out of virtue.” he mutters, and you snort. He looks over at you with a small grin. “You liked that, huh?”

“Yeah, that was kinda funny.” you admit, and his smile widens as he turns fully to face you.

“Well, you know what they say about funny guys,” he muses, and you look off into the distance thoughtfully. 

“I don’t think I recall.” you say after a moment, and he narrows his eyes at you.

“They say funny guys are dangerous. They’ll make you laugh and chuckle and then they’ll make your knees buckle.” he announces proudly, and you shoot him a look.

“Literally who is saying that?”

“They are!”

“Who’s ‘they,’ Haechan? I want names and receipts, because I feel like you made that up.” 

“Well, I don’t have names or, like, timestamps, but—”

“You have nothing to back you up, is what I’m hearing.” you reply with raised brows, and he scowls at you.

“You’re no fun. Why are you my favorite?” he mutters to himself, and you laugh.

“I’m your favorite?” you coo, leaning onto him with a smile, and he looks over at you with a smile he tried and failed to restrain.

“Unfortunately.” he grouches. “Hey, look, we’re moving!”

“See how time flies when you stop complaining?” you say as the eight of you move up. Shifting slightly behind you, Haechan steps on the back of your shoe, making your heel slip out of your sneaker. “What is your deal?”

“What are you talking about?” He’s the face of innocence, if you ignore the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You did that on purpose.” you point out.

“What’d he do?” Jiwoo asks curiously, and you turn to her with a pout. 

“He stepped on my shoe so it came off.” you complain, and Jiwoo rolls her eyes in Haechan’s direction.

“I did not!”

“You’re a bad liar.” Mark points out, and you smile, satisfied that your friends have your back.

“I haven’t done anything wrong.” he replies, maintaining his innocence, and you huff, glowering at him before turning back around. When the line moves up, he does it again, and you growl under your breath, whirling around to face him once more. “Hi.”

“Shut up.”

“Ouch?” He places a hand over his heart like he’s been wounded, and you roll your eyes dramatically. “Words hurt, you know.”

“Not nearly as much as I wish they did.”

He gasps, loudly and obscenely, and points at you accusingly. “You want to hurt me?” He looks you up and down with budding intrigue. “Why is that kind of hot?”

You sigh loudly, resting your hand on his shoulder as you fix both of your sneakers. “You’re insane, and you’re a nuisance, Haechan.” 

“Only to you,” he coos, and Renjun clears his throat pointedly from his spot in front of you two.

“Not true. I also find you to be a nuisance.” he adds.

“I thank you for the support, Renjun, but you find most things to be a nuisance… so that’s not really a surprise.” you say carefully, and his brows knit together thoughtfully before he shrugs, nodding in agreement.

“Fair point. On the bright side, we’re almost at the front of the line,” he points out, and you shift to Haechan’s side as you all step up.

“Aw, you wanted to stand next to me?” he teases.

You blink at him. “You can’t fuck with me if I’m standing right next to you.”

“Is that a challenge? It sounds like a challenge.”

“And if I throttle him?” you announce to your friend group.

“He’d probably moan,” Jaemin says regretfully, and Haechan nods, eyes wide with glee as he presents you with his neck.

“I definitely will. Go for it.” 

“Have you no shame?” Jaemin remarks, scandalized, and Haechan pauses to think.

“No.”

“Lovely. Great.” Jaemin mutters to himself, and Haechan smiles, pleased. “Can this line move so I can hit Haechan with my bumper car?”

“Agreed,” Jihyo says.

“Amen,” Mark chimes in.

“Retweet!” Jiwoo adds.

“Period.” you agree.

“Damn, even you?” Haechan exclaims, looking at you with a frown.

“Do you have short term memory loss? Did you forget how you deliberately made my shoes come off, like, two minutes ago?” you ask incredulously, and he rubs his chin thoughtfully.

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” 

“I’m going to harm you physically.” 

“Maybe come stand next to me,” Jihyo offers, gently pulling you forward in the line towards her.

“Yeah, and you come here.” Jeno suggests, yanking Haechan backwards in line by the collar of his jacket.

“I don’t wanna stand next to you!” Haechan complains. “You smell like weed.”

“I took an edible today.” Jeno remarks plainly, and Haechan wrinkles his nose.

“The stench is embedded in your clothes.” 

“I washed this jacket yesterday.” Jeno answers flatly.

“Well, in my defense, how was I supposed to know that?” Haechan huffs.

“Can you shut up and move up? We’re next, I think.” Jeno pushes Haechan forward in the small of his back, and Haechan crumples with a wail, stumbling forward to clutch onto you.

“He stabbed me!”

“Poor baby,” you coo, embracing Haechan as he clings onto you. 

“I cannot, for the life of me, make sense of you two.” Jihyo chuckles with a shake of her head, and you shrug, the movement difficult due to Haechan holding onto you.

“He’s cute when he whines.” you answer, and Haechan coos at you fondly, nuzzling his nose into your neck affectionately.

“I think you’re the only person who thinks that,” Jeno chuckles, and you shrug again.

“Don’t listen to him,” Haechan mumbles, words muffled by his face being squished against your neck. “He’s mean. He stabbed me.”

“I poked you.” Jeno sighs with a roll of his eyes.

“You jabbed me!” Haechan counters, and you stroke Haechan’s hair, shushing him gently.

“It’s okay,” you hum soothingly. “You’re safe over here as long as you don’t get on my nerves again.”

“I’ll be such a good boy,” Haechan promises, and your eyes widen in surprise, your sharp intake of breath catching in your throat and making you cough for a second.

“Did not expect you to say that,” you mutter when you recover, and he chuckles, tilting his head up to look at you.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” he teases, and you blink down at him blankly.

“Shut up before I make you stand with Jeno again.” 

“Shutting up.”

Finally, your group moves up to the very front of the line, the attendant briefly going over the rules. The eight of you agree to follow the guidelines and he lets you in, all of you scurrying to get in a car. You spot a cute, baby pink bumper car and get in that one, strapping yourself in and quickly familiarizing yourself with the controls. 

The attendant hits the buzzer to begin the timer for your session, and you all start to drive around the course, quickly getting the hang of the controls and maneuvering the small vehicles.

You’re careening down the course when you’re bumped from the side, sending your car veering into the guards on the wall. You glare over at the culprit, Haechan grinning flirtatiously as he surges forward, repeatedly bumping your car closer and closer to the corner and more off-course.

“Haechan, pick on someone else.” you complain, and he scrunches his nose as he shakes his head.

“You’re so fun to mess with, though.” he says with an attractive pout. 

“God, you’re lucky you’re cute.” you mutter, missing too late the way his eyes flash with satisfaction and budding mischief.

“What was that?” he calls over to you, placing a hand behind his ear. 

“I didn’t say anything.” you huff, and he raises an eyebrow skeptically.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Too bad? Not my problem.” you reply with a shrug, and he narrows his eyes.

“Don’t make me come over there.”

“How are you gonna come over here when we can’t leave our bumper cars?” you ask, rolling your eyes.

“I’ll get out and come over there and climb right onto your bumper car.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Jeez—” you mutter, huffing and puffing before admitting, “I said, ‘you’re lucky you’re cute.’”

He grins widely and runs his fingers through his hair, mussing it up casually before he speaks. “How lucky am I, hm?”

You shoot him a wary look. “Haechan, what are you talking about?” 

“I wanna get lucky tonight.” he says slowly, wiggling his brows, and you blink at him, waiting to see if he’s serious before an incredulous scoff-laugh escapes you involuntarily.

“I suggest you get real acquainted with your hand, Haechan.” you chuckle, starting to drive forward and bump him out of your way. 

“You’re cruel,” Haechan laments. “What happened to me being cute?”

“You’re still cute,” you assure him, blowing him a kiss. “Just not that lucky.”

“Next time,” he calls out to you as you drive away, and you wave him off dismissively.

You half-wish you hadn’t brought up the image of Haechan touching himself, because now it’s all you can think about; his hand gripping himself, the way he might stroke—fast, slow, tight, with a flick of the wrist—

“Pay attention, girl!” Jihyo laughs, bumping into you as she drives by. Rapidly blinking out of your reverie, you realize you’ve been slowly veering in towards the center of the rink, your car riding along the guard rails, and you do your best to clear the Haechan-induced fog in your mind.

The rest of the bumper car session passes fairly quickly, with shrieks and giggles of delight and Haechan repeatedly bumping into you “by accident.” When you get out of the bumper cars, your legs are a bit wobbly, but the light, bubbly feeling you have in your heart more than makes up for it.

“Can we please go on a roller coaster next?” you say hopefully, and Jihyo frowns instantly.

“Those make my stomach drop… I’m gonna pass this time.” she says apologetically, and you nod in understanding, although your face falls a bit.

“We just ate corn dogs and funnel cake, like, right before the bumper cars, and if we go on, we might blow chunks.” Jeno explains, gesturing between himself, Mark, and Jaemin. 

Jiwoo looks over at them in confusion. “When did you have time to get food?”

“We snuck off,” Jeno admits sheepishly. “Well, I snuck off… Mark and Jaemin just followed me.”

“You just sensed corn dogs and funnel cake so you wandered off?” Jihyo snorts, and Jeno looks even more embarrassed now than he did earlier.

“I smelled them…” Jeno admits quietly, and you blink, surprised. 

“Okay, bloodhound.” you joke, and Jeno snorts in amusement. “So Mister Super Sniffer and his greedy nosy companions are out, Jihyo’s out… I can tell by the look Renjun’s giving me that he’s also out…”

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Jiwoo? Haechan?” you ask hopefully.

“I’m sorry, girl, I’m just—I’m kinda scared.” she admits quietly, a small frown on her face.

“Aw, okay,” you reply sympathetically, squeezing her hand gently. You look over at Haechan hopefully, and to your relief, his face softens into a fond smile. “That’s the smile you give me when I’m about to get my way,” you say excitedly, and he chuckles, something warm and inviting in his eyes.

“I’ll go with you.” he agrees, and you squeal, wrapping your arms around his neck for a hug. “Careful, now, before I ask you to ride something else.” he murmurs in your ear suggestively, one hand moving to clutch at your waist, and you gasp, releasing him instantly.

“You’re gross.” you scold him.

“What’d he say?” Jiwoo asks curiously, and you narrow your eyes at Haechan before waving your hand at her dismissively.

“You don’t want to know. Let’s go, Haechan!” you chirp, grabbing his hand and pulling him after you to the biggest, baddest roller coaster you can find.

When you get in the line, Haechan sighs loudly as he looks at the numerous people ahead of you.

“We’re gonna be in this line forever, you know.” he complains.

“Worth it if I get to ride this thing.” you say, looking at the rollercoaster lovingly.

“You are so cute.” Haechan coos, squishing your cheeks until your lips pucker out.

“Can you unhand me, you fiend, you?” you huff, pushing his arms until he releases you with a frown. “You like being treated like a baby; I don’t.”

“Oh, really?” he asks, brows raised in a challenge. “So if I offered to hand feed you and tie your shoelaces and coo at you all the time, you wouldn’t like that?”

“Oh, I’d love that. But that’s being pampered, not being treated like a baby.” you say, and Haechan rolls his eyes.

“Same thing.” 

“Nuh-uh! Pampering is treating me like a princess, not a baby.”

“Is that right?” he muses thoughtfully. You nod, and he chuckles, continuing on to say, “So I’m dealing with a little pillow princess, huh?”

“Hey!” you exclaim, looking over at him in surprise.

“Relax, I happen to love pillow princesses.” he assures you, and you eye him warily. “I do! Something about the idea of a pillow princess lying back and letting me do whatever I want to you…” he trails off with a dreamy smile, and you blink rapidly in alarm.

“Her?” you suggest, and he looks over at you, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Huh?”

“You said ‘you’ instead of ‘her,’” you point out, and he nods slowly, clearly not getting your point. “The way you said it made it seem like you were fantasizing about… doing that… to.. me…” you say, trailing off slowly as his brows lift as if to confirm what you’re saying. “Oh.”

“Oh,” he copies you, stepping closer with a grin. “Now what, hm? What’s so wrong with me thinking about you like that?”

“We’re friends, Haechan. Friends don’t typically fantasize about their friends.” you remind him.

“Friends should be allowed to fantasize about their friends,” he counters, “as a treat. Especially when their friends look as good as you do.” 

“You’re such a flirt.”

“You know you’re lowkey into it.” he replies confidently, and you hate that he’s right.

“Move up, I think we’re gonna be in the next group.” you say, deliberately shifting the topic.

Haechan eyes the moving line ahead of him and looks back at you with a smile that says he knows exactly what you just tried to do, but relents and moves forward regardless.

As he turns to move, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, realizing that maybe, just maybe, Haechan’s a bit more serious about his flirting than you thought he was, and you have yet to determine how you feel about that.

The smell of cheese and pepperoni pizza fills the bowling alley, almost a pleasing enough aroma to mask the faint but still present smell of sweaty socks and shoes. You sip your diet Pepsi and look around the room; there are birthday parties for children, teenagers congregated by the fountain soda machine, and a smattering of tired parents sitting in the chairs by the bowling ball dispensers—and then there’s your group of friends, eight twenty-somethings far more rambunctious and chaotic than the younger age groups present.

“You’re up,” Jihyo calls to you, nudging you gently, and you sigh heavily before setting down your drink and standing up, making your way to the bowling balls. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you announce loudly to your friends, and you pick up a sparkly pink ball, walking over and just rolling it down the lane with no thought towards strategy or physics or anything of the sort.

To your surprise, you manage to hit three of the corner pins, your ball coming dangerously close to landing in the gutter, and you hear Haechan snicker behind you.

“Laugh it up, Haechan; not everyone is good at bowling. Some of us have other strengths.” you huff, glowering at him, and he raises his hands in defense.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything!”

“You laughed. That’s arguably worse than saying anything.”

“Maybe you should stick to the influencer thing… live life on easy mode, you know?” he says with a wry grin, and you watch as Jiwoo freezes, Jaemin audibly gasps, Mark smacks Haechan on the arm, and Jeno and Renjun exchange a look of disapproval. 

“Oh, that’s not–” Jihyo starts, but you hold up a hand to silence her.

“Haechan, do you have any idea how difficult my job is? Just because I don’t spend my days learning the intricacies of Cobra—”

“Python,” Haechan corrects.

“Whatever! Just because I don’t have to submit pages upon pages of technical jargon to my boss, that doesn’t mean I have it easy.” you huff, placing your hand on your hip as you stare him down.

“How hard can it be to be an influencer?” Haechan says with a dismissive roll of his eyes. “I have to submit a code to my boss by midnight, and you have to, what? Do a TikTok?”

You glower at him. “You’re horrible. My job comes with the constant pressure of maintaining public approval, and you know how they have hive minds on TikTok! One day, you’re good, the next week, you could be nothing and everyone’s in your comments talking about, ‘Oh, you fell off,’ or, ‘Not you flopping.’” 

Haechan levels his gaze at you, raising an eyebrow. “You get to go on social media and shake your cute little ass for a living… stop whining.”

You blink at him for several beats, processing which part of his statement to address first. “...Did you just call my ass little?”

He rolls his eyes and stands up from his spot, walking in the narrow space between you and the bowling ball dispenser. “More importantly, I called it cute.” he points out, and you can’t help but smile. “Personally, I think your ass is perfect.” He murmurs in your ear, and you hum softly in acknowledgement. 

“Oh, yeah? Is that why you spend so much time looking at it?” you ask, and he grins.

“Absolutely. How else do you think I made such an astute observation?” he chuckles, picking up an emerald green bowling ball and lifting it in the air. You watch as his forearm muscles tense with the strain of managing the extra weight of the ball and do your best to hide your staring. “Why? Does that bother you?” he wonders, raising his eyebrows handsomely.

You think about it for a second. “It probably should, huh?”

Haechan grins brilliantly. “Does that mean you like it?”

“I never said that.” you reply, shooting him a look. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

He chuckles and turns from you briefly to bowl, the ball rolling down the lane in a perfect straight line before it hits the center pin and subsequently knocks every other pin down. He turns back to you, smiling smugly, and says, “It’s all in the subtext, baby.”

“Baby?” you echo incredulously.

“Yes?” he answers as if you’ve called him, eyes glinting with mischief, and you roll your eyes with an undeniable smile growing on your lips.

“You’re too much.” you mumble, laughing softly, and he smiles at you, his eyes twinkling.

“Can’t handle it?” he murmurs in your ear as he passes by you, heading back to his seat.

“Never said that, either,” you say as you walk over to him and sit beside him. “Just think it’s kinda crazy to call me ‘baby.’”

“Why is that crazy?” he hums, reaching behind you to rest his arm on the bench behind you, his fingertips grazing your shoulder. “Should I call you something else? Honey, baby girl, angel, babe—”

“Shh!” you giggle, reaching to cover his mouth, but he dodges your attack smoothly, eyes alight with mirth as he joins in on your laughter.

“What? Pretty, gorgeous, cutie, sexy—” he continues, dodging your attempt to silence him again and grinning cheekily. “I could do this all night.”

“Please don’t,” Mark and Jeno pipe up in unison. You look over at them with a slight jump, having temporarily forgotten you and Haechan aren’t even remotely alone in this building. 

“Killjoys.” Haechan mutters mostly for your ears, and you laugh quietly, covering your mouth to remain inconspicuous. “It’s your turn again,” he points out with a jerk of his chin at the lanes as he pops a piece of gum in his mouth, and you manage to tear your gaze away from his jaw and the attractive way it moves as he chews for long enough to stand up and walk over to the lanes again. “Want them to put up the rails?” he teases, and you turn back to glare at him. “I’m just trying to help you out,” he says, hands raised defensively, and you raise an eyebrow.

“Maybe you should come show me how to do it, then.” you suggest with a small smile, and he chuckles before rising to his feet and striding over to you. 

He’s quick to place his hands on your sides, squeezing gently before carefully repositioning you. It doesn’t take long for his hands to slide down to your hips, pulling you back against him so close you can feel his chest rising with every inhale he takes. 

“You wanna start with your feet like this,” he murmurs in your ear, manually moving your legs by holding under your thigh just above the back of your knee until he’s satisfied.

“Like that?” you muse softly, looking over your shoulder at him, and he sucks in a breath before chuckling to himself under his breath and nodding.

“Just like that.” he assures you, but the way his voice dips when he says it leads you to believe there’s a suggestive meaning to his words. “Next, you’re gonna bend your arm like this and hold the ball just a bit in front of your shoulder.” he instructs gently, and when you do as he says, he smiles, pleased. “That’s it,” he encourages you, his voice dropping to a deliciously low pitch with that same suggestive lilt. “Bend your knees a little bit and put the foot that’s gonna slide slightly behind the foot that’s gonna stay still.” You do, looking back at him for approval, and he nods proudly. “Ready?” 

“Yeah,” you say confidently, and he squeezes your hips slightly before releasing you. You send the ball rolling down the lane in a perfectly straight beeline for the center pin, the ball knocking it and all the pins behind it over, and you squeal with excitement, wrapping your arms around Haechan’s neck and pulling him in for a hug. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer, and just like that, the vibe of the hug shifts, his touch electrifying you as he tucks his face in your neck, breathing in deeply. 

“Good job,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck, lips grazing your skin ever so slightly but making you shudder nonetheless.

There’s a loud, obscene retching noise from behind you two, and you both break apart in alarm, turning to look at the source of the noise, Renjun sitting with a very displeased expression on his face and his arms crossed. 

“Can we help you?” Haechan asks slowly.

“Yeah, you can get a room.” he says with a grossed-out scowl, and you remove your arms from around Haechan’s neck sheepishly, warmth blooming in your cheeks.

Haechan doesn’t release you just yet, though, still maintaining a firm grip on your waist and the small of your back until you clear your throat gently and his gaze shifts from glowering at Renjun to looking down at you with a question in his eyes. Your throat dries, not expecting his full attention so suddenly, and he lets out a tiny chuckle, lips quirking up into a smile before his eyes drop to your lips.

Your lips part subconsciously, and his grip on you tightens slightly before Jeno clears his throat pointedly, garnering your attention once more.

“Yes?” Haechan asks impatiently.

“A room. Get it.” Jeno remarks with a grimace, and you carefully pry Haechan’s hands off of you, since it seems like he won’t be doing it himself.

“Don’t be a hater,” Haechan remarks with a huff. “It’s not a good look on you.”

“Desperation isn’t a good look on anyone, either, but here you are.” Jeno counters, and Haechan frowns before he looks back at you with a pout.

“He’s so mean,” Haechan whines dramatically, pulling you to stand in front of him. He points at Jeno accusingly. “He hurt my feelings.”

“Don’t worry, Haechan,” you coo, turning to face him. “I happen to think you look very cute when you’re desperate.”

He grins. “Thanks.” His brows furrow in thought a second after, and you wait patiently, eyebrows raised expectantly, for the rest of the sentence to kick in. “Wait—hey!”

“There it is.” you chuckle. “For a software designer, your processing is surprisingly slow.”

“You’re mean, too.” he laments, pouting in a way that’s somehow both cute and handsome. “You’re lucky I kinda like it when you’re mean.”

“Oh, do you?” you muse thoughtfully, reaching up and running your hand through his hair. His eyes flutter shut and a blissful smile makes its way onto his face. “Do you prefer it when I’m mean or nice?”

“Nice, for sure.” he sighs happily as you repeat your motions of playing with his hair. “I like when you dote on me.”

“Is that why you’re such a whiny baby?” you chuckle, and he nods.

“Only for you.”

“Aren’t I lucky?” you drawl sarcastically, and Renjun snorts.

“I’d consider the rest of us deeply unlucky for having to witness it.” he chimes in, and you look back at him.

“Then close your eyes.” you hum dismissively, and Renjun gasps in disbelief.

“I think they’re worse when they’re on the same page.” he remarks to Jeno, who nods.

“They’re definitely worse together, if you ask me.” he agrees, and Haechan opens his eyes to narrow them at Jeno.

“Good thing I didn’t ask, then.” you reply, and Haechan grins at you.

“That was hot.”

“Down, boy.” you warn him playfully, and he wets his lips slowly and deliberately, grinning when your gaze drops to his mouth. “What did I just say?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t listening.” he says with a cheeky grin. “Got distracted.”

“By what?”

“Take a guess.” he suggests, raising an eyebrow pointedly as he looks you up and down.

“There’s, like, no hope for you, is there?” you laugh, and he shakes his head.

“No, ma’am.” 

(You ignore the way the term of respect makes something tingle inside of you.)

“Guys, I think Deadpool tickets sold out,” you say worriedly as you enter the movie theater.

Jihyo looks over at you, confused. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, it says ‘Deadpool sold out’ right under the movie time listings, so… that kinda gave me a hunch.” you explain, pointing right at the sign, and Jihyo frowns.

“Maybe that’s an old sign,” Haechan says, striding over to the front desk confidently. “Hi, can we get eight tickets for Deadpool, please?” You don’t get to hear the woman’s response, but you do see her point behind herself at the sign you very much just pointed to. Haechan’s shoulders slump slightly and he walks up to your group once more. “They’re sold out.”

“Gee, how unfortunate. If only there was some way we could have known… some sort of sign, perhaps… maybe one that your dear friend already pointed out…” you lament sarcastically, and he narrows his eyes at you.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“Oh, I can. Not only can I, but I will.” you retort, and he scrunches his nose at you.

“Well, can you two stop doing that weird foreplay banter thing you do so we can pick a new movie to watch?” Mark asks, and you splutter, surprised.

“That is not what we’re doing—” you start to defend yourself, but Haechan cuts you off.

“No, no, no, that is what I’m doing.” he says, and you slowly turn to look at him in disbelief.

“You shut up.” you huff, crossing your arms. “What are we gonna watch now?”

“We could watch The Texas Chain Saw Massacre,” Renjun suggests. “They’re re-releasing it.”

“How about we not?” Haechan says instantly, brows knitting together in distaste. 

“No, I think it’d be fun!” Jiwoo chirps.

“I’d rather actually be able to sleep tonight, thanks.” you disagree, shifting to stand next to Haechan.

“Well, how about we just split up and see what we want?” Jihyo suggests, and you shrug, looking over at Haechan.

“Wanna see a romcom or something?” you ask him, and the corner of his lips quirks up into a smile.

“Sure thing.” he replies, and Renjun gags.

“Can we go get the tickets now?” he half-requests, half-pleads. “I can’t bear witness to whatever these two have going on for much longer.”

“You dramatic ass whiny baby.” you scoff, and Renjun glowers at you.

“You call me a whiny baby, but when Haechan goes on his whiny baby tirade, it’s all ‘poor Haechan,’ and ‘poor baby;’ what about me?!” he complains, and you raise an eyebrow in amusement.

“Renjun, if you want me to baby you, you could just ask.” 

“No, you can’t,” Haechan cuts in, taking your hand and pulling you towards the ticket booth. 

“Wh—Haechan!” you laugh incredulously.

“I’m the only one you can dote on,” he huffs petulantly at you before turning his attention to the attendant at the ticket booth. “Good evening; could we get two tickets to, uh…” he looks over at you and you roll your eyes with a smile before scanning the movie listings briefly.

“We Live In Time,” you finish, and he nods resolutely. 

“We Live In Time,” he echoes, and the attendant smiles and nods, typing something into the computer.

“That’ll be $20,” she says, and Haechan reaches into his back pocket and pulls his phone out, tapping it to the card reader.

“Ooh, and you paid? What a gentleman,” you pretend to fawn over him, and he chuckles.

“You know I’ve got you, baby.” he remarks casually, and his sincerity stops you in your tracks.

Why was that so attractive?

The attendant prints out two tickets and hands them to Haechan, who takes them with a smile and a “thank you” before looping his fingers with yours once more and leading you further into the movie theater.

You want a snack from the concession stand?” Haechan asks as you two walk by it, and you look over at him.

“Maybe? Why; are you buying?” you half-laugh, not expecting him to agree.

“Yeah, come on.” he urges, leading you over to the snacks. “What do you want?”

“Sour Patch Kids,” you answer, pointing at the box. “The strawberry ones.”

“Good choice,” he remarks, amused as he takes the box from the display and hands it to the guy behind the counter. “Can we also get a large popcorn?” He turns back to look at you. “You want something to drink?”

Taken aback by but admittedly attracted to this energy from him, you nod—obediently, even. “Sprite, please—no ice.”

“Large Sprite, no ice, and a large Mountain Dew, please?” he finishes the order and you step forward to stand beside him, trying your best not to look at him with hearts in your eyes.

When you two get to the theater where they’re showing your movie, Haechan gestures for you to lead the way, so you do, picking a spot close to the back of the theater and sitting down.

He sits down next to you, setting the popcorn between your seats, and drapes an arm over the back of your chair. 

“How smooth,” you drawl sarcastically, and he grins, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“You know you like it.” he replies confidently, and you try to hide your smile as you focus your attention on the screen as the trailers start to play.

It’s about thirty minutes into the movie, and paying attention is harder than you thought, considering Haechan’s doing everything in his power to make you focus on him instead.

At one point, you reach for popcorn, startling yourself when instead of feeling a buttery popcorn kernel, you feel the warmth of Haechan’s fingers.

“It was fate,” he coos sweetly at you, and you narrow your eyes at him playfully.

“Move your hand or I’ll throw popcorn at you.” you threaten, and he laughs, tipping his head back in mirth.

“You’re so cute,” he sighs in delight, eyes twinkling as he watches you fondly. “Fine, I’ll move my hand—”

“Great.”

“But you have to feed me a piece of popcorn.” he says with a smirk, and you blink at him incredulously.

“You’re really something, you know that?” you chuckle, picking up a piece of popcorn and bringing it to his lips. “Open.”

He obliges, sticking his tongue out flat, and you place the fluffy popped kernel on his tongue, trying the whole time not to think about how nice his tongue looks, glistening in the light from the movie screen.

“Thank you,” he hums, chewing happily, and you snap out of it, clearing your throat and returning your attention to the movie. “What a coincidence that it’s just the two of us,” Haechan remarks quietly, and you turn your head to look at him. “Are you sure you didn’t just want a chance to be alone with me?”

You sigh. “Haechan, this movie was my idea. You followed me in here.” 

“Watch that cute little mouth of yours before I revoke your snack privileges.”

“You touch my snacks and I’ll make you wish you were at the mercy of that Texas Chain Saw Massacre killer.” you promise him, and he exhales quietly through his nose in amusement.

“Don’t worry, baby; I wouldn’t actually dream of getting between your snacks and your little sweet tooth.”

“Good.”

“Actually,” Haechan muses, and you turn to look at him again. “That’s probably why you and I get along so well.”

It’s your turn to exhale through your nose in a quiet laugh. “Why, because you have a sweet tooth, too?”

“Because I’m sweet.” he answers plainly, like it was obvious, and your snort of amusement is loud enough that someone else in the theater shushes you.

“Is that what your mom tells you?” you tease, and he glowers at you.

“Hey! I’m a delight!” 

“Didn’t say you weren’t,” you reply with a smile, and he matches it, leaning a little closer as his eyes drop to your lips.

“Wanna see how sweet I can be?” he asks softly, and you find your breath hitching as he leans even closer. 

His lids drop slightly in preparation for the kiss, but you press a Sour Patch Kid treat to his lips instead, smiling innocently when he opens his eyes with a slow flutter.

“What was that for?” he whines slightly, and you raise your eyebrows.

“You seemed like you wanted to taste something sweet.” you hum, and he frowns handsomely at you.

“You know what I wanted.” he huffs, and you shrug, returning your attention to the movie.

“Pay attention to the movie.” 

“I’d rather pay attention to you.”

“And as much as I love attention, I’m trying to pay attention to the movie, which I am struggling to do with your repeated attempts to put the moves on me.”

“Oh? I’m distracting you?” he murmurs, a smug smile audible in his voice. “Sorry, baby.”

“It’s okay, baby,” you say as he pops a piece of popcorn in his mouth, and he sucks in a sharp breath, promptly choking on the piece of popcorn and making you whip your head around to look at him in alarm. 

He glowers at you as he recovers, your eyes bright with amusement once you’ve assessed that he’s in no real danger. “That was evil.”

“I’m evil.”

“That’s hot.”

“Haechan?”

“Yes, baby?”

You roll your eyes with a chuckle. “Pay attention.”

“Maybe I could if you weren’t flirting with me.”

“Get real, Haechan.” you snort.

“Baby, there’s no one realer than me.”

“Baby,” you say, stressing the pet name, “pay attention and stop flirting with me before I stuff more popcorn down your throat.”

“Damn, that’s kinda hot.”

“Haechan!” you whisper loudly, laughing in surprise and incredulity, and several voices shush you from around the theater. 

“Can’t help it; you’re kinda hot when you’re bossing me around.” he defends himself, and you roll your eyes.

“Get a hold of yourself.” you huff, and he frowns.

“I’d rather get a hold of you instead.”

“I’m sure. Too bad.”

“God, you’re a tease.” he sighs dreamily, and you shoot him a funny look out of the corner of your eye.

“Sure, if that’s what’ll make you shut up.”

“I kinda love it.” 

“Shut up before you get us kicked out!” you whisper insistently, your cheeks warming at his incessant flirting.

“Mm, yes, ma’am.” he groans, the sound so suggestive you whip your head around to look at him in surprise, scandalized. “I like when you’re bossy.”

“I’m ignoring you now.”

“You can try.”

“I will succeed.”

“You’re already failing,” he points out with a grin, and you scowl at him, pointedly looking forward at the screen without another word.

Even with the music filling the room and the numerous bodies in between you two, Haechan’s staring is getting harder and harder to ignore. His eyes bore into you from all the way across the room where he stands talking to Jeno and Mark, and it’s so intense it’s almost palpable, prompting you to meet his gaze with a raise of your eyebrows.

He grins, flicking his eyebrows upwards, and you chuckle, turning your attention back to Renjun’s rant about his neighbor.

“...and then he had the nerve to tell me to ‘keep my music down’ as if he’s not up at the asscrack of dawn doing construction in his apartment!” 

“What a hypocrite,” you say with a grimace, and Renjun nods vigorously, relief written all over his face.

“I’m surprised you even heard any of that,” Jihyo remarks, raising an eyebrow at you as she sips at the straw sticking out of her drink.

You shoot her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“Well, with all the eye-fucking you and Haechan keep doing, I figured you were a little preoccupied.” she comments, and you narrow your eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you lie, turning your nose up with a sniff.

“Oh, I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t lie to me.” she says with a playfully stern look. “Now, what’s going on with you and Haechan?”

“Yeah, what is going on with you and Haechan?” Renjun asks curiously, leaning forward in anticipation to hear you better.

“Nothing!” you say defensively, and Jihyo arches an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah? Then why is he coming over here?” she asks with a knowing smile that only grows when you subconsciously fix your hair as, sure enough, Haechan approaches, eyes on you the whole time. “Hi, Haechan.”

“Hey,” he replies distractedly, tilting his head to the side as he regards you. “Hi,” he says to you, his lips quirking up into a smile.

“Hi,” you answer, mirroring his expression.

There’s a beat of silence before Renjun speaks. “‘Hi, Renjun. How was your day? I totally see you standing to my right, and I’m definitely not ignoring you like a piece of lint—’”

“Hi, Renjun.” Haechan says with a laugh, and Renjun glowers at him, muttering something under his breath about going where he’s appreciated before stalking off, presumably to subject another one of your friends to his tirade about his neighbor. “You having fun?” he asks you, and you nod, prompting him to smile widely and puff out his chest slightly before saying, “More now that I’m here, right?”

“Sure, Haechan,” you reply with a small laugh, and Jihyo just raises her brows at both of you.

“I’m gonna go find Jiwoo,” she says, shooting you in particular a secretive smile before disappearing into the crowd of people.

Haechan immediately steps into the space she occupied, now much closer to you, and his smile widens even more before he speaks, murmuring, “I like your top. You look so good tonight, but I’m sure you knew that.”

“I did,” you confirm, and he snorts. “But thank you. You look good, too.”

“Oh, yeah? We’re kind of matching.” he points out, gesturing to your black lace up top and his dark gray Nirvana t-shirt. 

“Are we? That’s gray.” you reply with a growing smile.

“Dark gray and black are practically the same color.”

“But are they actually the same color? No.” 

“Why are you being difficult?” he says with narrowed eyes, and you shrug.

“It’s my specialty.” you answer with a beguiling smile, and he rolls his eyes, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips even as he feigns exasperation.

“Anyway,” he stresses the word, shifting the conversation. “Do you wanna get some fresh air with me?”

“Mm, not really; it’s kinda cold outside.” you say with a small pout.

“You can wear my jacket,” he offers, and you pause, thinking about it.

“Maybe later. For now, do you wanna come with me to the kitchen? I want a snack.” you ask, and he smiles at the invitation before nodding.

“Lead the way, baby.” he coos, and you roll your eyes with a smile as you do just that, reaching back to link pinkies with him.

“So we don’t get separated,” you explain.

He beams. “Good idea.” 

You two make your way through the throng of bodies and into the kitchen, where you promptly start raiding the cabinets.

“I love Jeno and Jaemin to death, but their snack selection is shit.” you huff in disappointment, turning back to Haechan to see that he’s propped himself up against the kitchen counter, watching you with amusement and intrigue.

“Jeno went on a snack purge the other day,” he reminds you. “Said something about overly processed foods and saturated fats.”

“Well, sorry if I like my foods overly processed and my fats saturated.” you gripe, and Haechan laughs, pushing off the counter to walk over to you. 

“I think they have fruit in the fridge,” he says, leaning into your space to open the refrigerator door. He pauses before he pulls back, eyes trained on your lips and his own lips part in a soft sigh, tongue poking out to wet them. 

“The snacks?” you remind him with a growing smile, unable to resist glancing at his very tempting mouth.

“I’m looking at one,” he breathes, and you burst out laughing, pushing him back gently.

“That was very cheesy.” you giggle, and he shrugs shamelessly.

“It made you laugh, so I consider it a win.” he says with a soft, fond smile. 

Your cheeks flare with warmth, not used to the gentleness and sincerity in his eyes, and divert your attention to the now open fridge, picking out a container of grapes that you hope are washed as you pop one into your mouth and chew. The burst of sweetness is very welcome on your tongue, and you lean back onto the fridge, closing your eyes in bliss.

“Better?” he chuckles, and you nod.

“Want one?” you say, offering him a grape, and he nods, leaning in to eat it from your fingers. Before he pulls back, he looks at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his sultry gaze too much for you at the moment and making you return your attention to the container of grapes with an urgency that doesn’t go unnoticed by Haechan. 

“Cute.” he murmurs softly, and you huff, trying (and failing) to hide your budding smile at the compliment.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” you say, carefully extracting yourself from the small space he’s got you cornered in. 

His eyes twinkle with amusement as he raises his eyebrows suggestively. “Was that an invitation?”

“It most certainly was not.”

“Aw, man. Next time?” he asks hopefully, and you snort.

“Don’t count on it.”

You do your best to hold your breath as you make your way through the hallway, stopping by the window for a moment before sticking your head out and breathing in the fresh air gratefully. After a moment of relief, you decide to open the window wider, climbing out and sitting on the windowsill, feet carefully resting on the fire escape attached to the side of the building.

It’s quieter over here, you note, pleased with your newfound situation as you scroll through your phone. Sure enough, when you open Instagram and tap on Jeno’s story, you see two boomerangs; one of him and his friends sitting in a circle around his bong, and one of him blowing smoke out of his mouth.

You tap the heart for both posts before footsteps pull your attention away from your phone, making you turn your head to see the newcomer. 

Haechan stops about a foot away from the window, leaning against the wall. “I thought I’d find you out here. Thought you said it was too cold?”

“It is, actually, but this air doesn’t reek of weed.” you explain, and he nods in understanding.

“Mind if I join you?”

You wordlessly scoot over to make room for him, and he smiles, climbing out and sitting beside you. The side of your leg presses against his as he makes himself comfortable, but you don’t really want to move it. 

So you don’t, and you just silently appreciate the warmth radiating from his body as he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. 

“Thank you,” you say sincerely, and he smiles at you, nodding.

“The city looks so pretty like this,” Haechan sighs, and you direct your gaze straight ahead of you, taking in all of the city lights in the nearby buildings and the bridges in the distance. “It’s almost as pretty as you,” he says, nudging you with a cheeky grin, and you exhale through your nose in amusement.

“It is pretty,” you agree. “Someone’s feeling flirtatious, I see.”

“Can you blame me? You show up tonight looking as good as you do and expect me not to want to be all over you?” he snorts, and you raise your eyebrows, slightly surprised by how forward he’s being.

“‘All over me?’” you repeat, and he nods, looking you directly in the eyes. “Like… all over me?”

“You interpret it however you want to, baby.”

“You’re gonna have to stop calling me ‘baby,’ by the way; it’s starting to confuse me.” you tell him, and he raises an eyebrow.

“How so?”

“I think I kinda like it,” you confess, and his gaze drops to your lips instantly, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips. 

“Oh, really?” he murmurs suggestively, running one finger around one of the rips on the thigh of your jeans, and he chuckles softly as you shiver slightly, goosebumps raising on your arms. “Cold?”

“Something like that.” you reply evasively, and he snorts, his smile widening.

“Back to what you were saying… about liking when I call you ‘baby,’” he quickly returns to the previous topic, and you roll your eyes slightly in amusement. “What’s so wrong with that?”

“Friends don’t typically call each other ‘baby.’” you point out, and he shrugs.

“Maybe we can be special friends.”

“Oh, yeah? Special how?”

“Maybe we call each other cute names… touch a little bit… kiss a little bit…” he trails off, and you look over to see that he’s watching your lips again, a small grin on his lips.

“Mm, that could get messy though.” you murmur, and he gazes at you, longing openly written all over his handsome features.

“Life is messy.” he points out.

“This doesn't have to be.” you reply, gesturing between the two of you. Haechan links his fingers with yours and sets your linked hands on top of your touching thighs, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. “That feels nice,” you sigh, leaning against him slightly.

“I bet I could make you feel even nicer.” he muses suggestively, and you snicker.

“Won’t lie and say I’m not a little curious.” you admit, and he sucks in a sharp breath of surprise.

“Don’t tempt me,” he murmurs. “I don’t particularly feel like holding back right now.”

“Oh, is that what you usually do?” you reply, speaking as soft and low as he just did.

He nods. “You always tempt me, actually—I’m just not feeling like beating around the bush right now.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise and—you won’t lie—intrigue. “And what’s making you feel like that right now?”

“A number of things,” he replies. “How unbelievably good you look tonight, the way I can see the goosebumps on your skin when I touch you, and,” his voice gets even softer but carries an urgency you don’t believe you’ve heard from him before, “the way you’re looking at me.”

“And how am I looking at you?” you question, tilting your head to the side curiously.

“The same way I’m always looking at you.” he answers, and you don’t need him to elaborate.

“So if that’s all true,” you muse, regarding him carefully, “then why aren’t you doing anything about it?”

“I like what we have,” he says in reply, and you smile. “Wouldn’t want to ruin it.”

“And what if I said I kind of want you to ruin it?” Your words are quieter than ever, tentative even, but by the way the fire in Haechan’s eyes intensifies, you know he heard you all the same.

“What did I just say about tempting me?”

“It wasn’t a temptation,” you say carefully. “It was an invitation.”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “You know, I’ve never been one to ignore my urges before,” he admits. “If I want something, I get it.”

“Oh, yeah?” You can’t even try to hide the arousal building in you as you watch his lips with uninhibited longing.

“Yeah.” His gaze matches yours, unbridled desire swimming in his eyes as he slowly leans in, and you find yourself mirroring him, the two of you moving painfully slowly as you get closer and closer.

“And what is it that you want right now?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

“I bet you can guess,” he murmurs as his lips brush the corner of your mouth.

“Give me a hint.” you reply, and he grins, turning your face towards him gently and bringing his lips to yours. 

It starts slowly, his lips gently moving with yours, before he pulls back ever so slightly, your eyes opening to see him watching you carefully.

“Good?” he murmurs.

“Good,” you confirm, and he smiles before leaning back in to close the gap between your lips. This kiss is much less tentative, his lips parting to suck gently at your bottom lip, and when you whine softly, he pushes forward, reaching up to cup your cheek as he captures your lips with his over and over again, each kiss more dizzying than the last until his mouth is moving fervently against yours, his tongue tracing along your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth with a quiet groan.

Your hand finds its way to his thigh, and as soon as it makes contact, it’s like a switch flips in Haechan, his lips leaving yours to kiss the corner of your mouth, your cheek and along your jaw before finally settling comfortably on your neck, mouth kissing, sucking, and licking at your pulse point.

“Haechan,” you whimper, and he hums against your neck, but you can tell he’s not really listening. “Haechan,” you sing-song softly in another attempt to get his attention, but he just slips his hand under your thigh farthest from him, scooping your legs up and moving them to drape over his lap. “Haechan,” you whine urgently, and his kisses finally falter, the male pausing but not moving away from you as he waits for you to speak. “Can we go somewhere more private and… less chilly?” 

He pulls back, lips deliciously puffy from kissing, and nods with a dazed look in his eyes. “Jaemin’s room?”

You don’t even have it in you to be considerate of your friend, the lust clouding your mind and doing away with your judgment as you nod. He grins and ducks back into the apartment, helping you do the same before leading you to Jaemin’s room, never once letting go of your hand. 

When you two get to Jaemin’s room, you’ve barely cleared the doorway before Haechan shuts the door and pushes you up against it, kissing you ardently and clutching your waist to drag you closer to him. He nips at your bottom lip briefly before kissing down your neck and sliding his hands up to cup your breasts, squeezing them and looping his finger in the string tying your top together. 

“Why don’t we take this off, hm?” he murmurs, slowly pulling the string with a growing grin as the bow—the one Jiwoo so carefully tied for you earlier this evening—comes undone, leaving no resistance when Haechan pulls your top over your head.

He eagerly returns to kissing you, hands groping at your chest as he traces circles around your slowly hardening nipples. He pulls back from the kiss slightly and moves like he’s about to kiss down your neck, only to whine and bring you back in for another kiss, panting against your lips, “I wish I had more mouths.”

“You what?” you say, bursting into giggles so strong that you can barely manage to kiss him back, and he joins you in your laughter.

“Stop, I’m being serious!” 

“I know—I think that’s why it’s so funny,” you say through your laughter, and he growls in lighthearted frustration before whirling you around and all but shoving you onto the bed. You squeal in surprise, giggling still as you bounce on the bed, and he rolls his eyes, climbing on top of you. “What kind of eldritch horror are you thinking of becoming? Like how many mouths and where?”

“Can we just—forget I said that?” Haechan whines, and you shake your head with a gleeful giggle. 

“I don’t wanna,” you say with a pout, wrapping your legs around his waist, and he groans in exasperation. “I’m kind of a monsterfucker, so you saying that really got me going.”

“You’re joking.” 

“Do I look like I’m joking?” you ask, looking up at him, and he slowly shakes his head—whether it’s in disagreement or in disbelief, you’re not sure, but when his lips start trailing down to your collarbone, you’re not entirely sure it matters anymore.

“I’d want mouths on the palms of my hands,” he grunts, cupping your breasts again through your bra, “so I can kiss you and suck your tits at the same time.” Before you can respond, his wet, swollen lips fall to your chest, tongue trailing all over your exposed skin before he’s tugging the cup of your bra down and taking your nipple into his mouth.

A whimper escapes you, spurring Haechan on further, and he wraps one arm around you, pressing between your shoulder blades to bring your chest closer to his mouth. His tongue is warm and wet as it flicks at your nipple, Haechan groaning as he swirls it around and around your stiffened bud. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he mumbles around his mouthful of your breast, and his other hand trails down your body to settle between your legs, Haechan delivering two gentle pats to your inner thighs in a wordless request for you to spread them. When you oblige, he smiles around your nipple before wetly licking and sucking his way from one breast to the other. His fingers quickly and deftly unbutton your jeans, barely yanking them down before his hand slips into your pants, stroking along the seat of your underwear, pressing down harder when you whine.

“Haechan, please,” you moan, running your fingers through his hair and tugging gently when you reach the ends. 

“Mm, what is it, pretty? What do you want?” he teases with a quiet laugh, looking up at you as he pushes your underwear aside and trails two fingers up your slick folds, hissing in delight. “Is this what you want?” he asks, dipping his fingers into your entrance slightly and relishing the groan of frustration you let out.

“Yes,” you moan, tugging his hair a bit harder in retaliation for his teasing.

Finally giving into your demands, he pushes his middle and ring finger into your core, lapping at your nipple as you whimper loudly in relief. “Shh, shh, shh—I know, baby, I know.” he soothes you in a hushed murmur, slowly starting to pull his fingers out before pushing them in deeper.

“Feels good,” you exhale shakily, and he coos in understanding.

“It’ll feel even better in a second,” he promises, starting to move his fingers in and out of you. “Just gotta open you up first.” He releases your nipple, giving it one last lick before moving back up to hover above your face, gazing down at your pleasure-filled expression in wonder before he’s leaning down to kiss you, silencing your cries of pleasure as he starts to twist and scissor his fingers inside of you. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet. All this for me? Hm?”

“No, it’s for Renjun,” you huff sarcastically, breaking the kiss momentarily to glower at him. “Of course it’s for you, dummy.” 

He narrows his eyes at you. “There is a time and place for your sass, and it’s not when my fingers are literally inside of you. Besides,” he says, curling his fingers inside of you and making you gasp in pleasure, “why would you be mean when I’m making you feel so good, hm?”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer as his curled fingers massage at your inner walls in search of your g-spot, which he finds quickly, eliciting a sharp whimper from you as you clench around his fingers. “It’s all for you,” you confirm breathlessly, and he grins before kissing you again.

“Good girl. You’re gonna have to make it up to me, though.” he murmurs against your lips, and you pout, prompting him to coo fondly and kiss you again. “Even with that cute little pout.”

“I said sorry,” you complain, and he shrugs, fingers quickening their pace inside of you.

“I’m sensitive.” he replies simply, kissing down to your neck and sucking and biting at various spots until you’re sure there are marks blooming all over your skin. “It’s okay, though—I know how you can make it up to me.”

“H–How?” you ask warily, voice catching as the pleasure builds inside of you, his repeated stimulation of your g-spot bringing you closer and closer to climax as your insides tighten in anticipation.

“Cum for me?” he grunts, and you can’t tell if it’s a request or a stated demand, but you nod, breath hitching and your cries escalating in pitch as you start to do just that, your climax washing over you as your abdomen tenses repeatedly, your body curling in on itself as much as possible given that Haechan’s practically pinning you in place.

“That’s it, baby,” he purrs, coaxing more of your climax out as he keeps fucking you with his fingers, milking your orgasm for everything he can get, your entrance drooling clear evidence of your arousal all over his fingers and into the seat of your underwear. “Making such a pretty little mess for me,” he breathes, kissing you again as his fingers urge the last convulsions of your climax out of you.

You’ve barely recovered before your hands reach for his pants, fingers clumsily unbuckling his belt, undoing his button, and yanking down his zipper. He chuckles fondly and pushes them down to his knees, your eyes locking in on the imprint of his length in his boxers as he palms himself through his underwear.

“You like what you see?” he teases, and you furrow your brows.

“Your underwear’s in the way.” you grouch, and his eyes brighten with amusement, thumbs hooking into his boxers and pulling down until his length springs free. “Much better,” you hum, pleased as you rest your head down on Jaemin’s pillow.

“Look so pretty laying like that.” he grunts as he slowly fucks his fist. “Wish I could take a picture and keep it forever.”

“I’m only going to say this once, so listen carefully.” you say, and he raises a brow expectantly. “Please fuck me.”

The brightness in his eyes remains, but now there’s a heavier, darker edge to his gaze as he leans over you, lips teasing yours apart.

“Did you just beg for me?” he coos tauntingly, and you sigh.

“I did not beg. I asked nicely.”

“Sure, baby. I’ll give you what you want,” he promises, lining the head of his cock up with your entrance and slowly pushing into you, making your breath catch in your throat. He exhales deeply and dips his head down to your neck, latching onto your skin and sucking as he starts to drag his length out and back in, building a teasingly slow rhythm. 

“So full,” you gasp, and he chuckles, kissing up your neck to your lips. 

“You feel so good, pretty girl. Tight little pussy keeps sucking my cock back in; you like this that much?” he coos, one hand groping your breast. 

“Don’t tease me,” you huff, and he grins widely.

“How are you gonna stop me?” he counters smugly, choosing that moment to speed up the movements of his hips until the sound of skin slapping on skin fills the room, each thrust punctuated by a whimper from you. “You’re not going to do anything about it; you’re just gonna lay here and take this dick nice and deep in your little pussy until you cum all over it.”

“Fuck, Haechan—” you mumble, dazed by his thrusts and even more by his filthy language.

“You love it, don’t you?” he teases, capturing your lips in a filthy kiss where he plays with your tongue almost lazily. 

“Uh-huh,” you can barely manage to get out, and he hums in satisfaction.

“Show me how much you love it.” he urges, rolling his hips against yours sensually. When you start to move your hips against his, rocking up into his every thrust into you, he rewards you by sucking on your bottom lip and flicking your nipple back and forth with his thumb. “Fuck, that feels so good, pretty girl, keep doing that.”

You fuck him back to the best of your ability, that familiar tightening sensation in your stomach alerting you to your impending climax. “Haechan, think I’m gonna cum—” you warn him, and he nods, pinching your nipple just enough to make you squeal. 

“Cum, baby; wanna feel you clench around my cock.” he purrs, and your climax hits a moment later, a cry slipping from your lips as your back arches, your hand clutching his arm for something to ground yourself as your body curls in on itself involuntarily. “That’s it, pretty girl—doing such a good job—squeezing my cock so tight, baby, fuck—”

By the time your climax has passed, you’re still trembling slightly as aftershocks of pleasure travel through you with every thrust from Haechan, and you’re so wet you can hear his length moving in and out of you, hear your pussy sucking him back in as it hugs his length tightly, and heat rises to your face.

“My turn, baby; think you can take my load?” he grunts, and you nod instantly, clenching around his length every time he bottoms out in you. “That’s my good girl,” he coos fondly, his brows knitting together as he starts to release into you. “Milking me dry, baby, fuck—” he hisses, and you smile in satisfaction as he shudders, lowering himself to kiss you as he fucks the last bit of his cum into you.

Finally, when his length stops throbbing inside of you, he pulls out and lies down next to you, both of you breathing heavily.

“Hey,” he says, turning his head to face you.

“Hi,” you reply with a smile, and his lips curl into a matching smile.

“You okay?” he asks gently, and you nod.

“Better than okay.” you assure him, and he sighs, relieved. A thought comes to your mind and you nudge his leg with your knee. “Hey.”

“Hi?” he answers curiously, and you roll onto your side, propping yourself up on your elbow.

“If you had multiple mouths—”

“Please let it go, it was silly—” he interjects with a half-chuckle, half-groan.

“I like silly!” you counter, and he looks over at you skeptically, his features relaxing when he reads the sincerity in your face. “If you had multiple mouths, would you have them anywhere besides your hands?”

He thinks about it for a moment before he nods. “I’d have one on each thigh… so while I’m kissing you, I can grope your tits with my hand-mouths and have you sit on my thigh so I can eat you out, too.”

You shudder slightly, and he raises an eyebrow. “Sorry, I got a little excited.”

“You’re joking… damn, you’re kinkier than I thought. That’s hot,” he grunts appreciatively. 

“I think we should get up before Jaemin comes in here and chops our heads off.” you say suddenly as the reminder that this is not somewhere you want to be caught fucking dawns on you.

“You’re so right,” he agrees, sitting up and helping you off of the bed. You both hurriedly redress, Haechan stumbling as he pulls his pants up and making you both giggle. “Ready?” he says finally, fully redressed.

You ruffle his hair, messing with it until it’s back in place, and hold the strings to your top out to Haechan. “Tie it for me?”

He smiles fondly and steps closer, tying a cute bow into your top and leaning back to inspect his handiwork. “You’re good, baby.”

“Thanks,” you say sincerely, opening the door and heading back to the party. You two give each other a knowing look before you enter the living room and go your separate ways, Haechan heading for Jeno and Renjun while you head for Jiwoo and Jihyo. “Boo!” you say from behind them, and Jiwoo whirls around, clutching her chest.

“Shit!” she exclaims. “Don’t do that!”

“Sorry,” you reply without a hint of remorse. 

“Where’d you go?” Jihyo asks curiously. 

“I was on the fire escape,” you explain, deciding to tell a half-truth. “I didn’t want to smell Jeno’s weed.”

“Ah, fair.” she answers with a nod. 

“Hey, your bow is different.” Jiwoo points out, pointing at the bow on your shirt that Haechan tied. “Did you take your top off or something?” she snorts, amused with her little joke, but Jihyo looks over at you carefully, shrewd gaze scanning your body for anything else out of place.

“No, I just had to re-tie it because one of the strings got caught on one of the screws on the fire escape and it looked all wonky,” you lie, and Jiwoo nods in understanding. 

“Copy that. Well, I’m hungry; wanna go raid their fridge?” she offers, and you start to nod, but you freeze when you feel something drip out of your core. 

“I am totally in, but I have to use the bathroom first.” you say, clasping your hands together in a pleading gesture. “Wait for me?”

Jihyo’s still staring at you like she’s silently interrogating you, and you won’t lie and say you’re not unnerved. “Earth to Jihyo?”

She blinks slowly before focusing her gaze on you once more, eyes now softer and less scrutinizing. “Sorry, I was just… thinking. Yeah, we’ll wait for you.”

“Cool,” you say, relieved, before making your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up. You make quick work of peeing and sorting yourself out, washing your hands and drying them before heading back to the living room where Jihyo and Jiwoo and, to your surprise, Haechan stand. “I’m back!” you chirp before looking over at Haechan. “You weren’t here a minute ago.”

“Jeno and Renjun started bickering about something, so I left.” he replies with a shrug. “You don’t mind if I join you guys, right?” he shoots you a knowing look with a secretive smile, and it takes everything in you not to start giggling like a schoolgirl. 

“I guess you can,” you say nonchalantly, and he beams at you.

“Great! Where are we going?” he asks curiously, and you point towards the kitchen.

“To find snacks!” Jiwoo says eagerly, and you all walk to the kitchen, you and Haechan starting to fall to the back of the line until he’s side by side with you.

“You already said their snack selection was garbage,” he remarks, confused, and you shush him.

“Yeah, but I’m not getting a snack; Jiwoo is. So we’ll let her figure that out for herself,” you explain, and he nods in understanding.

“I see,” he hums thoughtfully. “Well… did you tell them? About earlier—”

“No,” you answer, and he sighs in relief. “Don’t worry, it’s our little secret.”

“Copy that,” he chuckles, fingers brushing against yours before they intertwine and he squeezes your fingers gently. When you look down at your linked hands and back up at him, he smiles cheekily. “So we don’t get separated,” he says with an upwards flick of his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes but pull him forward, finally entering the kitchen in time to see a cranky Jiwoo.

“Their snack selection is ass. What am I, a rabbit?” she laments, and you smile in amusement.

“They’re great at house parties, bad at refreshments.” Haechan says, and Jihyo looks over at you two before her gaze drops down to your linked hands, an eyebrow raising in suspicion.

You carefully and casually let go of Haechan’s hand by running your fingers through your hair, and Haechan fixes his mouth to complain before he looks in Jihyo’s direction and seems to understand, relaxing slightly.

Between Haechan’s need for attention, your inexplicably magnetic attraction to each other, and Jihyo’s deeply suspicious and perceptive gaze, you know you have quite a night ahead of you.

The following morning finds you back at home sitting at the kitchen island, scrolling through your phone and checking your engagement before a text banner notification drops down from the top of your screen.

haechan [10:08am] good morning 😌 did you miss me? you [10:10am] sorry……who’s this? haechan [10:11am] you’ve GOT to be joking 😟 you [10:13am] i very much am 💖 good morning haechan ☀️ haechan [10:15am] don’t play with me like that i almost crashed out haechan [10:15am] can i come over? i have a question for you you [10:16am] haechan what are we doing rn haechan [10:17am] ….talking? you [10:17am] right… and would you consider talking a synonym for ‘having a conversation’ or no? haechan [10:18am] ……….yes……….. is this a trick question you [10:20am] so if we’re already having a conversation, by your definition….. why, pray tell, can’t you just ask me NOW 🤨 haechan [10:22am] *Message sent with Invisible Ink* maybe i just wanted a reason to see you ☹️ you [10:24am] oh… well that’s cute actually haechan liked your message “oh… well that’s cute actually” haechan [10:25am] awesome…… so can i come over? 😁 you [10:26am] ofc you can 💖 haechan [10:27am] great can you let me in 😁

You tilt your head, confused by his message, but a knock on your door makes you practically jump out of your seat. You make your way to the front door and look through the peephole, barking out an abrupt laugh when you see Haechan sporting a cheesy grin on the other side of the door.

“You are insane,” you laugh as you open the door for him, inviting him inside. He enters, still sporting the playful smile, and shuts the door behind himself.

“In, like, a cute, hot, sexy way, though, right?” he asks hopefully, and you roll your eyes with a smile before shrugging and nodding, watching as relief floods his features.

“Your question?” you ask, getting straight to the point, and he visibly balks, the normally shameless Haechan becoming quiet and shifty. “Haechan?” you call his name with a tinge of worry in your voice.

“Did you have a good time last night?” he asks, and you raise your eyebrows.

“That’s your question?” you question, in disbelief.

“I’m building to it,” he explains. “Now: did you have a good time last night?” he repeats, and you blink at him impassively before sighing in slight defeat.

“I did,” you answer, not sure if he meant the party or… well, the sex… but you had a good time regardless of which he meant. “Did you?”

“I had an amazing time.” he says sincerely.

“Great,” you reply, just as sincerely. A small silence passes before your impatience gets ahold of you. “Haechan…”

“Yes?” he responds, nervousness creeping into his voice.

“Your question?”

“Right,” he mutters, clearing his throat as he prepares to speak. Meanwhile, you move to sit back down in your chair, swiveling around in the seat as you wait for his question. “Um—look—I really enjoyed last night. It was amazing, actually, and—I’m talking about the sex, by the way.” he stammers, his sudden clarification at the end making you giggle, regarding him fondly. 

“I figured, yes.” you assure him, and he nods, somewhat relieved. “Go on,” you urge him gently, and he swallows visibly.

“I would love to, um… do that again… but I don’t know if I’m ready for a relationship right now. I’m still getting used to juggling my job and my social life, and I really don’t want to fuck up our friendship—”

“And you want to be friends with benefits,” you finish for him, and he pauses, body tense as he rapidly tries to read your reaction.

“...Yes?” 

“Okay,” you agree, and he just about crumples with relief, leaning against the kitchen island for support. “I’m down. But if we don’t want it to ruin our friendship or the friend group, maybe we shouldn’t tell them?”

“I was thinking the same thing,” he sighs, significantly more relaxed than he was a moment ago. “Plus, it could be kinda fun, y’know? Us… sneaking around… together…” he says, gesturing between the two of you with a suggestive wiggle of his brows.

“I couldn’t agree more.” you say sweetly, and he beams at you, all traces of his earlier nerves gone. “Do you think we should have some ground rules? So we don’t complicate things?”

“Sure, yeah,” he agrees instantly, and you smile, patting the chair next to you invitingly as you pull up the Notes app on your phone.

“So we want sex with virtually no emotional connection, right?” you clarify, and he nods, his reaction a second too late to process as casual. Ignoring it politely, you continue on. “So, maybe ‘no cuddling’ should be a rule.”

“No cuddling?” he laments, and you nod resolutely.

“Cuddling encourages emotional intimacy.” 

“Fine,” he sighs, frowning slightly. “Can I still hug you?”

“Hugging and cuddling are… not the same thing, so yes.” you answer with a laugh as you type the first rule, and he smiles, chuckling lightheartedly.

“Maybe… we shouldn’t spend the night after we have sex?” he suggests, and you nod, typing it into the note you’ve made.

“Is this, like, exclusive?” you ask, gesturing between the two of you, and he tilts his head thoughtfully.

“I guess not…” he says, an air of reluctance to his words that makes you pause and look at him carefully.

“Haechan, speak now or forever hold your peace.” you warn him, and he nods firmly.

“We don’t have to be exclusive if you don’t want to be. It’s up to you.”

“How about we leave that part open-ended for now, but make the next rule ‘no jealousy?’” you offer as you type in the next rule.

“Okay, that sounds good.” he says, nodding slowly in agreement. “Next rule?”

“Um, no romantic gestures? Like, no buying each other special gifts you wouldn’t buy for another friend, no flowers, no making each other romantic playlists—stuff like that.” you say, and he looks off into the distance pensively.

“What about pet names?” he asks warily, and you half-sigh, half-laugh.

“Haechan, I think you would pop a blood vessel if you had to restrain yourself from calling me pet names.” you state, and, eyes wide, he nods vigorously in agreement, making you laugh.

“It’s true!” he insists, and your laughter grows.

“I know! That’s why I said it,” you giggle as you type in the next rule, and he starts to chuckle before joining in on your laughter. “So pet names are fine, but—”

“But?” he asks hesitantly.

“‘No PDA’ should definitely be a rule.” you suggest. “It’d definitely blow our cover.”

“Okay… agreed.” Haechan says slowly, his subsequent nod more confident than his words.

You type in the new rule and sit back, regarding the list carefully. Haechan peers over your shoulder at your phone screen, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Does this look good to you? Do you think we’re missing anything?”

“No, I think it’s perfect,” he says, sounding sure of himself, and that’s enough to comfort you.

“Well, great!” you say, taking a screenshot of the list and texting it to him. His phone pings on the kitchen table with your incoming text, and he looks at it briefly before tucking it into his pocket. You rise to your feet, Haechan straightening back up as you stand, and turn to face him, extending your hand. “Wanna shake on it?”

He takes your hand with a small smile, lips quirked up in amusement before he looks up at you and tugs gently, pulling you against his chest. “Honestly? I’d rather kiss on it.”

You blink twice, stunned slightly by the sudden intimacy, but you nod. “We can do that.”

He grins, tilting his head and nudging your nose with his gently. “Good,” he breathes before he kisses you. It doesn’t take long for his hands to move, one hand cupping your jaw and the side of your neck while his other arm wraps itself around you, resting on the small of your back as he pulls you in close. His lips mold with yours so smoothly that it’s like you’ve been doing this for a lifetime, but every nip and suck from him winds you up even more than you thought possible, making for a beautiful combination: all of the comfort, no stilted awkwardness, with all of the excitement. 

When you two finally break apart, it’s for air, your hand gently resting on his chest, still clutching his shirt—you don’t even know when you started doing that—as you both attempt to catch your breath. 

“Good talk,” you pant, and he grins.

“Great talk.” he agrees breathlessly. “I actually have to go home to work on a code for this new program we’re building, but I’ll see you? Hopefully before our trip to Fire Island with everyone else, but if not, then I’ll text you?”

“It’s kind of criminal that you have to do work on a Sunday when you have actual work days to work on stuff.” you say with a pout, releasing his shirt and gently smoothing out the small wrinkles you caused. “Yeah, I’ll see you for the Fire Island trip.”

“I know.” he agrees with a frown. “Alas—not all of us can make it in life by being cute and likable.” he teases, and you shoot him an empty glare, making him laugh. “But I’ll see you soon, pretty girl.” he says, thumb carefully brushing your cheek.

“Okay,” you hum, trying your best to avoid leaning into his touch and closing your eyes.

“Later,” he says, reluctantly releasing you and walking backwards to your front door until he bumps into the corner he has to go around, a sheepish chuckle escaping him as he waves once, turning and exiting your apartment after you wave back.

Now alone, you look at the list you two compiled, carefully reading over each word.

1. No cuddling. 2. No sleepovers after sex. 3. No jealousy. 4. No romantic gestures. 5. No PDA.

They seem like simple enough rules to follow; straightforward and to the point, carefully designed so you don’t blur the lines too much between platonic and romantic. 

But, given the way he embraced you earlier and the way you so badly wanted him to stay longer, you can’t help but wonder if the lines were already blurred to begin with.

tada!!! i hope you enjoyed, and stay tuned for part two, coming out on wednesday, december 11th!

DON’T WANNA WAIT? parts two and three are currently posted on my patreon here :)