#shout out to you if you get the reference

[lambilegs]

your best friends older sister!sevika fanfic had me gnawing at the bars of my enclosure. love the way you write her as a mean teasing flirt ☺️ may i suggest roommate!sevika who does everything she can to get reader worked up such as bringing home girls to purposefully fuck them loud as fuck to make reader jealous 🙂‍↕️ hehe

roommate!sevika headcanons

note to anon: OMGGGG thank you so much bae!! and right? I feel like if she found someone who got on her nerves, she'd enjoy being the rudest flirt alive, hehe. ALSO, YES, I LOVE THIS IDEA SOOOO MUCH. took me a while to write it out, but I hope you enjoy!! <33 contains: sfw and nsfw content (minors + ageless blogs dni), reader receiving oral and strap, porn-watching, kinda voyeuristic (reader gets horny from sevika having sex with other girls), throat-grabbing, smoking, reader's body is referred to with the terms "pussy," "g-spot" and "clit"

roommate!sevika who doesn't really bother talking to you at first, just keeping to herself. she's not a fan of sharing her living space with people, but money's tight, and this is what she can afford right now. she's not interested in friendship, or some sort of everlasting bond to form between the two of you. she just wants to live in amicable peace, and have her space to herself.

and so, the two of you barely talk. you try, at first, but it becomes clear three days in that she's utterly uninterested. which, you can't lie, is a pretty huge disappointment, considering that the prospect of living with an incredibly hot and stoic butch was one that had you thrilled initially. but, unfortunately, she seems anything but truly interested in any sort of connection with you.

roommate!sevika who remains in her bedroom most of the time, working on one contraption or the other, or watching videos on her laptop.

or gaming. because, yes, she games, and she does try her best to keep quiet, she really does. but, the idiots she plays with have her occasionally shouting, cursing loudly as they cause her team to lose yet again.

every now and then, she'll hang out in the living room, watching TV, but that's usually reserved to when you're not home, or locked up in your own bedroom. when you come out to cook in the kitchen, or sit on the love seat so that you can fold laundry, she'll usually linger for a few minutes, carefully observing, before standing up to head back to her bedroom.

it's not like she hates you or anything. you're pretty okay -- nice to her and not sloppy and disgusting like some of the other roommates she's had before. you even share the food you cook with her, and have always been cooperative about splitting chores with her. so, in sevika's books, you're not a person who she's keen on disliking, and she actually feels pretty damn lucky for having found your ad.

roommate!sevika who does nothing to quell the sexual frustration you've had for months due to the serious dry spell that's been plaguing you. walls are thin, and you can hear the loud ass girl she's brought home, moaning and whining as sevika's bed frame rocks against the wall. every now and then, her noises are met with sevika's hushed grunts and filthy words of, "tell me, who's a good girl?"

you twist and turn in bed, rolling over to glare at your phone. it's 2:03AM -- how does she still have the energy to be fucking at this time? you're exhausted, irritated, and insanely horny from what you're hearing. because horribly enough, this girl doesn't sound like she's faking -- no, she's truly enjoying herself. sevika is just that good of a lay, it seems. and that piece of knowledge has your pussy beginning to dampen, soaking through your panties.

if you shut your eyes, and drift into the hazy world of dream land, you can pretend that it's you and her making those noises. that she's the one fucking you right now. god, just the thought of that notion has your clit aching.

but, it also has you feeling a strike of insecurity. because the truth is, that probably won't be you and sevika anytime soon. she doesn't even give you the time of day. you don't know what it is you've done to her, but she avoids you like the plague, never returning any of your offers of kindness or bonding. and it's beginning to sting really bad. if she can canoodle with a stranger (and, yeah, you're painfully aware it's a stranger, since her text said, "Hey. I met a girl at the bar tonight, is it okay if I bring her over?") well enough to have sex with her that very night, why can she barely spare you attention as her roommate?

the thought is a cold wash over your horniness, and all it leaves is a bitter taste on your tongue.

roommate!sevika who's giving you the most bewildered stare as you shake the soaked thong of the girl she brought home last night, yelling about how you're convinced that said girl stole one of your underwear after this one got ruined.

"how would you even know that?" sevika snickers, eyeing you in disbelief. "are you that anal?"

"my drawer was half open, sevika! and I never leave it like that because I'd knock into it on my way in otherwise!" you snap, your eyes wide and glossy with anger. sevika's honestly a bit unnerved by the sight -- she's never seen you this pissed, but jesus, she thought it'd take more than a singular, flimsy piece of fabric to get you to this state.

"it's just one pair," she deadpans. "I'm sorry serena -- or, selena, I don't know -- took it, but it's not that big of a big deal."

"maybe not for you, but it is for me! listen, I don't care if you don't know the names of the girls you bring here, or anything about them -- but, just make sure they're not a thieving dumbass, okay? is that enough for you?"

sevika's jaw shifts, irritation beginning to sizzle in her from the condescension layering your words. you're talking to her like she's a fucking child, tone taking on a faux sense of guidance.

"okay, listen, I'm sorry she took your underwear, okay? I'll buy you a new pair if you're that bent out of shape over it. but, you don't need to be such a piss baby about it."

your head flinches back, eyes sharpening in clear anger. sevika feels a twinge of guilt. she knows she fucked up, since ensuring the girl from last night didn't do anything out of line was her responsibility. but, your anger has her own defenses kicking in automatically, and she's equal measures embarrassed and angered at being spoken to this way.

"I have every right to be pissed if you're gonna be stupid about the people you bring in our apartment."

well, that manages to snap her out of it. "because I could just magically anticipate that she'd steal your shit? I get it, she did something shitty, but I couldn't have known that. I've got lots of skills, but that's not one of them."

you scoff, the noise loud and unabashed. "oh, trust me, you made a great display of your skills last night. not that you seem to fucking spare any of that attention to someone unless you're gonna get a good lay out of it."

sevika immediately freezes at that, her brain running into overdrive. your tone has shifted into something biting, but lowered with what seems like -- frustration? frustration not just at that girl, but at sevika herself. and if you're frustrated about sevika possessing an attentiveness that she spares only to certain people, then that must mean--

sevika snickers softly. oh, yeah, you've definitely given her an opening in this argument. "what, you jealous?"

immediately, you're spluttering, broken words and half-gasps flinging from your mouth, sentences barely strung together. it only heightens sevika's newfound delight in having found something to hold above your head.

"you are, aren't you? what, haven't had a good fuck lately? need me to get one of my boys to come over and take care of you?"

sevika can see the way you work your teeth behind your pursed lips, and it only causes her flame of amusement to burn brighter.

"first of all, I'm not fucking pitiful, okay? I can handle getting fucked. second of all, I'm not into guys, something you'd know if you even spoke to me for two fucking seconds."

sevika's eyes widen at that. this interaction definitely had her suspecting it, but to hear you confirm it only sends another wave of satisfaction, mingled with surprise, through her. so, you're gay and bitter over having no attention, and specifically not hers? you're making it too easy.

"so, what, you're into me?" she asks, her voice twisted with snark. "been wanting me this whole time? mad I'm not giving you attention?"

she knows it's risky to be goading her own roommate like this, flirting and teasing. but, she can't help it -- not when your mouth is finally shut and she knows she has something on you.

she stalks up to you slowly, using her height to her advantage as she dips her head down, staring at you with a piercing smirk. "well?"

your eyes are wide, blinking rapidly like a pretty little butterfly. they flicker down to her mouth, and sevika feels something stir in her gut at the sight. she's always been neutral about you, but there's something undeniably attractive about seeing you like this -- seething, wanting, in need of someone to take care of you. as her gaze roves over your features, she finds herself struck for the first time that you're, frankly, pretty good-looking.

but, then, you draw in a sharp breath, and sevika reels back in surprise when you hiss, "no."

she's left baffled as you whirl on your heel, stomping to your room, muttering out, "perverted jackass."

sevika chuckles at that. perverted jackass, huh?

roommate!sevika whose noises are so bothersome that you cover your ears, gritting your teeth at the rattling-headboard noises that are running through the apartment for the fifth fucking time in these past two weeks. how sevika manages to get this many girls in her bed is beyond your human capabilities. all you know is that it was never this often in the past. no, this -- this is fucking personal. you can feel it in the way she shoots you a haughty smirk the next morning, and how she encourages the people she's with to moan louder, move back faster. it's gotten to the point where you can even hear the fucking skin smacks.

it makes you utterly enraged. and impossibly soaked. but, for your own sense of justice and determination, you refuse to get off to the noises. in fact, everytime she continues her habit of asking you politely if she can bring someone over, you ensure to respond in as chipper a tone as possible. you don't want her thinking she's having an impact on you. you want to convey the self-image of being unbothered, unfazed and completely okay with every little dig she's attempting with you.

what makes you snap is when you're on your way to work one morning, and from where she's seated on the couch, lip bitten in frustration as she does a crossword puzzle like a fucking nerd, she says, "enjoyed the show last night? I can pick someone else up tonight. thought I'd ask in case you need to charge your vibrator in advance."

stay calm. stay calm. don't attack her. don't sit on her face.

"well," you drawl with a forced smile, "you'd like that, wouldn't you? so, your next girl can steal it for herself."

she immediately bursts into a loud round of laughter, her gap revealing itself unabashedly. your eyes linger on it, struck with a sudden bolt of fondness. it's one part of her that is unarguably adorable.

you turn away before she can catch you, heading to the kettle to pour the boiling water into your tumblr.

"wait, no," sevika calls out from the couch, eyes still fixed on the newspaper. "the counter."

your eyes curiously travel to the wooden surface, gulping in surprise when you see a fresh pot already made. you know sevika always drinks coffee before her shift at the mechanic's, but that's usually just a single cup. never an entire pot like this. "did you, uh, make this for me?"

"don't flatter yourself. just take some."

her voice is a grunt and no-nonsense, not allowing for her meaning to be minced whatsoever. she wants you taking the coffee, and that's that.

with a bitten smile, you pour it into your tumblr, the pleasant scent of it wafting through your nostrils. it's the brand you always use, the one you've offered to sevika before that she's never actually taken you up on. at least until now.

she's at least half-redeemed to you until she says, "just needed some energy after last night, you know? wait, what am I saying? you were listening, won't you?"

your skin stretches over your knuckles as you tightly grip the doorknob.

jackass.

roommate!sevika who you try to get back at by watching obscenely loud porn. sometimes, you touch yourself to it, while other times, you just let it play in the background while folding your laundry, or wiping the dust from your furniture. you know it's immature as fuck, and will probably never equate to the personal touch of her being the one to incite those noises when trying to piss you off. but, hey, if it keeps her up at night and pisses her off, you're more than content. and judging from the glares she silently shoots you in the morning, you can tell you're succeeding.

at least, until one day, she leans in from behind when you're making eggs, her mouth lowered to your ear, and mutters, "c'mon, you're easy on the eyes. can't be so hard to find someone that you resort to porn, right?"

your nostrils flare, nearly slamming down the pan on the stove. "oh, fuck off."

"don't you mean 'fuck me'?"

your mouth cracks into an almost-smile. it's one thing to wanna fuck sevika, it's a whole other thing to have your stomach tighten up from how funny she is. makes it all the harder to deal with your current predicament. "no, I mean 'fuck you,' actually -- thanks for helping with that clarification."

"anytime," she huffs in amusement, lightly smacking your shoulder, which sends you nearly tumbling from her strength.

you glare at her back as she leaves. god, it's a good back. you hate that she has a good back.

roommate!sevika who's almost... thankful for this situation? because paying more attention to you, being in your way more often, ends up revealing to her that she was, admittedly, a damn fool for not having taken notice of you earlier.

because you're smart. like, wicked smart. what she suspects is mostly out of spite, you've started leaning over her shoulder, your scent flooding her senses as you spoil the answers to her crossword puzzles. at first, she rolled her eyes, grumbling that she would've gotten it without your help. but, now, she anticipates your stupid antics before you can even think about disrupting her mood with it. that translates to her raising the newspaper to you right as you meet her in the kitchen, an action which you first met with a disapproving glare.

but, in a matter of days, you're sitting right next to her, a pencil in hand, the two of you debating over answers together and groaning in frustration whenever you get something wrong.

when you bump her arm, whining, "c'mon, I told you it was wrong!" she can feel her face heat up like some fucking teenager.

and when you roll your eyes when her answer ends up being the right on, it only eggs her on, the motion usually followed with her murmuring, "sorry, what was that again?"

whenever you two finish, she always says, "thanks for ruining it," to which you singsong, "anytime, sevika."

and she hates to admit it, but you're funny, too. there've been several times where she's actually been rendered silent from just how good a comeback of yours was, or where you said something that caught her so off guard she nearly laughed in a moment where she was just annoyed.

and fuck her, you're so fine. so goddamn fine.

a notion that seizes at her when you come out of your bedroom one evening, dressed from head to toe in clothes she certainly has never seen you in before. clothes you'd surely never wear to work or when lounging at home.

she licks her lips, her mouth suddenly feeling very, very dry. "what-- where are you--?"

"putting myself out there." you shrug, idly stroking a palm along your head, smoothing your hair. "I mean, it always works for you. and, you're right, porn can only do so much. I think it's time for me to, you know, actually try to get with someone."

sevika's jaw clenches. like the fuck you will. "no."

"what do you mean 'no'?" you scoff, swinging your bag over your shoulder. "I can do whatever I want."

"well, I'm not letting you do this," she snaps, standing from her seat on the couch and rushing to block you from the door.

"why not?"

"because I--" she cuts herself off, teeth pressing in together as her mind is shaken with an influx of thoughts. because what can she even say? it's not just about wanting to fuck, not anymore. she's actually interested now. so interested that it's been weeks since she last brought a girl over. no point in doing so if her mind is filled with thoughts of you touching yourself to the noises, anyways.

you raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. "yes?"

she leans in closer, propping a hand next to where your shoulders rest along the door. there's an inexplicable urge tugging her forwards to you, and she doesn't have it in her to resist it. "because I," she rasps, her voice low and scratchy, "I want you safe."

jesus, is she an idiot?

your face is deadpan, not a twitch of expression in sight. "you do it all the time. besides, how will I learn unless I'm out there, doing it?" after a beat skips between you two, you add, "unless you wanna come with?"

sevika snorts. "you really think I'm gonna watch you fuck about with some other people who don't deserve you?"

you brace your head against the plane of the door, eyes tracing over her face, making sevika's skin tingle in response. "then, who does?" you mutter quietly.

your tone is no longer flat. it's raised in pitch a bit, almost sounding hopeful. sevika swallows hard, her own body beginning to tense in anticipation. she latches onto that audible sign, using it to propel her forward until her lips are ghosting yours.

"me, you idiot."

and with that, she cups your face, drawing you into a soft kiss, your chapstick-smeared lips thick and slippery against hers.

roommate!sevika who makes you come so many times that night that you lose track. first with her head between your thighs, mouthing at your clit, fingers pumping into your hole as she spreads you loose and open. her lips wrap around the stiffened bud, drawing it in in tight, sharp sucks, the pressure of the movements making your legs tremble around her head, pressing into her ears without relent.

"damn, you trying to suffocate me?" she murmurs against your clit, the vibrations of her words making you whimper.

"it's what you deserve," you chuckle once the fog has cleared a bit, the noise dissolving into a whine when her tongue darts out, flapping over your clit with hard presses up and down, up and down.

"you're right," she hums, pressing a soft kiss to the spot just as her fingers curl up and begin stroking your g-spot, making streams of pleasure pulse from your pussy into your tummy, which tightens in anticipation. "I've been a dick to you, huh? I'll make it up to you tonight."

and make it up she does, her strap plunging into you and stretching your hole into a dull ache as her strong fingers hook onto her headboard, raising herself over you as your hips smack together. the mix of lube and your juices send filthy little squelches flowing through the room, and the noise only adds to the whirlwind of pleasure she's throwing you into without pause.

when she kisses you hard, making you whine as her fingers wrap around your throat and her tongue shoves into you, you can't resist quipping through your moans, "gotta say -- those girls had a point."

she chuckles against your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip. "and I was going easy on them. just wait till I'm done with you."

roommate!sevika who wraps her arm around you when smoking her cigarette afterwards. after lying together with nothing but some faded music playing in the background for a few minutes, she presses a tentative, slow kiss to your head, muttering, "I wish I had started talking to you earlier on."

you blink in surprise from the words, the tenderness of the moment sending a flood of emotions through you. you don't want to sound needy, but now that the topic has been brought up, a part of you aches for reassurance, wishing for the hollow part of you her initial avoidance had bore to be filled. "was it because I seemed uninteresting, or...?"

"no, no," she immediately cuts in, her voice hard. "I just wasn't interested in bonding with any roommate. never have been." her nails gently skim along your arm, and her voice lowers before confessing, "I thought you were sweet, though."

that sends satisfaction pumping through you, and you need to purse your lips together to halt a wide smile from breaking over your face. "yeah?"

"yeah, until you started being a little fucking menace," she whispers with a grin, her hand snaking down to squeeze your ass, a motion which nearly sends you moaning.

"hey, you started it with your panty-stealing girl."

"my panty-stealing girl?" she asks incredulously, her chin pointing down to shoot you a wide-eyed, incredulous look. "you think I'm gonna call anyone mine except you now?"

feeling suddenly bashful from the bold declaration, you nuzzle into her neck, your face heating up. "I don't know."

"huh, you know, you're cute like this. docile, quiet--"

"oh, fuck off."

she laughs, lightly pinching your arm, which sends you squealing. "eh, I knew it only could've lasted so long."

"like you'd have it any other way."

she takes a drag, the corner of her lips curling up. "got a point there."

no sentences and/or parts of my writing are allowed to be reposted or reused without explicit permission or credits given.

[ateezscupid]

─── FEB FILTH FEST: The Hills - HATE SEX ♡

SUMMARY / You tried to confront your ex, but neither of you could ignore the tension between you two.

warnings ✩ PORN LINK, SMUT, switch!yeosang, switch!reader, fem!reader, so much anger, so much hate, ANGST ANGST ANGST, unprotected sex, degradation (m & f), choking (m & f), literally at each others necks, both of you have cheated on each other

word count ✩ 2,89k

tags ✩ @desirehorizon @tangerineastronaut @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @bbdeongi @dawn-iscozy @xh01bri @mallielovssyou @clxssy1997 @soreberry @nopension @kitten4sannie @faeriehwas @lustfxq @ashistrashhhhhh

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST / FEB FILTH FEST

Knock knock!

You recognized that knock. He was here, finally. The air in your apartment seemed to thicken as Yeosang stepped inside, his eyes searching yours for any trace of the anger that had fueled your phone call earlier. You held his gaze, noticing the way his hair fell across his forehead, the same way it had that first night you met at the bar. You felt the heat rising in your cheeks, not from anger but from something else, something more primal.

"Come in." you say blankly, walking back to your cough and sitting down. The sound of the door closing echoed through the room, a stark reminder of the silence that had settled between you. Yeosang hovered in the doorway for a moment before crossing the threshold, his footsteps heavy on the wooden floorboards.

He sat down opposite you, the couch acting as a barrier that somehow didn't feel substantial enough to contain the electricity that arced through the space separating you. You both knew what this was about, the unspoken words hanging in the air thick as smoke. The tension was palpable, a living, breathing entity that seemed to pulse with every beat of your heart.

"So," he began. His voice was low, a rumble that seemed to resonate in the very walls of the room. "What did you want to talk about?"

You glare. "You know why I told you to come over here, Yeosang. I've had it with the games." Your voice is a tightrope, balancing between anger and something else—desire. You can feel it, the way your body tingles with every word.

He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and looks at you intently. "What games?" His tone is even, but you can see the muscles in his jaw clench. He's playing it cool, but you know he's just as affected as you are.

"Stop that." you gulp. "Every time I try to talk to you we end up fucking! I told you I wanted to get back together. I told you I wanted to try again and you agreed but never went through with it! Why?! Why can't you ever keep your fucking word?!"

Yeosang's eyes darken. "You act like I'm the reason we're not together anymore." he stands up. "I didn't come here trying to talk to you just so you could curse me out."

You stand as well, your own anger flaring. "You didn't come here to talk, either!" You accuse. "And yeah! You are! You fucking cheated on me!"

He takes a step closer, the heat between you growing, the air around you crackling with unspoken accusations and regrets. "You're not exactly innocent, are you?"

"…" You reply, your voice barely above a whisper. You know he's referring to the nights you spent with other men, trying to dull the pain he caused. But those moments of weakness don't compare to the betrayal he served you. You swallow hard, feeling your throat tighten.

"You did it first. You're not innocent either-"

"So because I did it, it's okay for you to do it?!" he screams, his voice echoing off the walls. Yeosang takes another step closer, his eyes blazing. You can see the hurt in them, the anger he's been holding onto since you first told him about your indiscretions.

"Well don't do some shit like that and then expect me to be okay with it!" You shout back, the room vibrating with your voice. The space between you is charged with anger, but also something else. Something you both refuse to acknowledge.

"I told you I was sorry! We were fucking drunk! You decided to be a fucking whore-"

SLAP!

Your hand connected with his cheek almost immediately, the sound of skin meeting skin reverberating through the room. Yeosang's head snapped to the side, and for a moment, you both just stand there, breathing heavily. You can feel the heat of your hand radiating off your cheek, and the taste of copper fills your mouth as your teeth cut into your bottom lip. You hadn't meant to do that—but the words had just slipped out, and you couldn't take them back.

Instinctively, he wrapped a hand around your neck and you fought with everything in you to not flinch. His grip was tight, but not painful. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the battle between his anger and his desire. And then, just as suddenly as the fight had ignited, it changed. His gaze softened, and his other hand slid down to your shoulder, gripping the fabric of your shirt as he stepped closer, his body pressing into yours. You felt your heart race, the heat from his body searing through your clothes.

He pressed his lips against yours immediately, and you could taste the anger in his kiss, but also something else—desperation. Your body responded before your mind had a chance to catch up, and you found yourself kissing him back with the same intensity. It was messy, desperate, and full of the pain of the words that had been said between you, but it was also full of the passion that had once defined your relationship.

Your hands went to his chest, pushing him away, but your legs buckled, and you ended up pulling him closer instead. His hand slid up your neck to cradle the back of your head, angling your face so he could deepen the kiss. You could feel his tongue probing your mouth, claiming you once again, and a shiver of pleasure ran down your spine. You hated how good it felt, how much you had missed this.

He picked you up and threw you back onto the couch, his body following yours. You landed with a thud, but it was overshadowed by the thunderous beat of your hearts. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, and his hands roamed down to your hips, gripping tightly as he ground his erection against you.

"I-I still hate you." you growl between kisses, but your body was telling a different story. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as if you could absorb his very essence. Yeosang's hands slipped under your shirt, his calloused fingers tracing the line of your spine, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You arched into his touch, the fabric of your shirt riding up to expose your stomach to the cool air.

"Doesn't matter," Yeosang murmured, his voice thick with need. "I still want you." His hands moved to the hem of your shirt, tugging it over your head, revealing your lacy black bra. His eyes raked over your body, taking in every inch of your bare skin, and you couldn't help the way your breath hitched in anticipation.

"D-Don't think this means we're-" you moan when he kisses your neck. "W-we're okay--it doesn't.."

Yeosang's chuckle was low and dark. "It doesn't have to mean anything." He unclasps your bra with a flick of his fingers, letting your breasts spill out. "It's just sex." His words were a lie, but the heat in his eyes was undeniable.

You started unbuttoning your jeans, sliding them down and letting him pull them off and discard them on the floor.

"You still love the way I fuck you," Yeosang murmured into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. You gritted your teeth, trying to push aside the truth in his words. You didn't love him, not anymore. You hated him—right? But as his hand trailed down your body to cup your ass, squeezing tightly, your body responded with a betraying moan.

"I don't-" you stammer, but your words are lost as his mouth finds your nipple, teasing it with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue. You bite your lip to keep from crying out, the sensation too much to handle. Your panties are soaked, and you know he can feel it as he rubs against you, the rough fabric of his own pants a stark contrast to your softness.

He sits up and undoes his belt, his eyes never leaving yours. The sound of his zipper is like a gun cocking in the silent room, and you know what's coming next. You're torn between the anger and the lust, but your body is betraying you—wet and ready for him. Yeosang pulls his pants down, freeing his erection, which stands tall and proud. You can't help but stare, remembering how it felt inside of you.

"Sure you don't." he didn't even look at you. He pushed your panties to the side and lined himself up. You felt the head of his cock against your clit, and your body jerked in response. "But we both know your cunt's been begging for me." He slammed into you without warning, and you cried out, your nails digging into his back. It was rough, almost violent, but it felt so fucking good.

"You asshole," you spat, your eyes watering from the mix of pain and pleasure. "I-I hate you." But even as you said it, your hips rocked against his, urging him deeper. Yeosang's thrusts grew more punishing, each one a silent declaration of his anger and his need for you.

Your teeth gritted as Yeosang's hips piston into you. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, your nipples sensitive and erect, begging for his touch. You're so wet that the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, a testament to the intense friction between you.

"You're such a slut," he groaned, his voice a mix of anger and arousal. "Spreading your legs for anyone that looks your way." His words were a knife, slicing through your soul, but your body responded with a tightening of your muscles, gripping his cock like a vise.

"A-And you put your dick in any girl that throws you a smile," you retorted, trying to keep the tremble out of your voice. You could feel the orgasm building, your body a coil of tension ready to snap.

He wrapped his hand around your neck once again, squeezing just enough to make you gasp for air as he slammed into you. "You're just a worthless whore," he hissed, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Why should I even care about your pathetic attempts to get me back?"

You clawed at his shoulders, feeling the fabric of his shirt tear beneath your nails. "You're nothing but a cheating bastard," you spat back, the taste of his skin on your tongue. "F-Fucking me won't change that!"

His hips stuttered. Your words were hitting him like a truck and you took advantage of that, pushing him away and onto his back, crawling on top of him, your thighs straddling his waist. You slammed down onto his cock, riding him with a ferocity that had him gasping for air, his eyes rolling back in his head.

"Is that all you think of me?" you sneered, your voice a serrated whisper. "A whore to be used and thrown away?" With every bounce of your hips, you hammered the question into him, your teeth bared in a snarl.

"That's all you are," Yeosang managed to say through gritted teeth, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he met your punishing rhythm. "Just a slut who can't keep your legs shut." His eyes blazed with fury, but his cock remained rock-hard, a stark contrast to the venom in his words.

You laen down, your forehead pressing against his. "Is that all you think of me?" you repeated, your voice a hoarse whisper. "After all we've been through?" You start to ride him harder, each movement punctuated by a snarled word. "Is that all I'm worth to you?"

He grabs your hips, trying to move his own in tandem with yours. "S-Shut up." He grunts through clenched teeth. "You're the one that wanted this."

"Oh, I want it," you admit, leaning down to bite his earlobe with your hand wrapping tightly around his neck. "But I want you to admit that you're just as much to blame for this mess as I am." You grind down harder, watching his eyes roll back in his head. "Say it," you demand.

"I-I'm to blame," Yeosang chokes out, his voice strained. "I'm to blame for fucking you when we both know we shouldn't." His hands grip your hips, pushing you down onto him with renewed vigor.

"Yeah," you moan. "You're to blame for making me want you like this." You lean down and whisper into his ear, "But I hate you for making me want you."

"I bet," he grips your hips and flips you over so you're on your back, his weight pressing you into the couch cushions. He doesn't bother with gentle caresses, instead he slams into you with a brutal force that has you seeing stars. "Doesn't matter. You know you're nothing but a hole for me to fill." he growls, each thrust punctuating his words. You can feel your anger rising to match his, your body moving with his in a dance of pure, unbridled passion and spite.

"You're nothing but a dick," you spit back, your voice hoarse from the pleasure and pain mixing within you. "A worthless piece of meat that thinks it can just fuck me when it wants!" You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, your teeth clenched as your nails dig into his back.

"Yeah?" he pants, failing to hold back his moans. "Well, your pussy loves my dick, doesn't it?" Yeosang's strokes grow faster, his breaths shallower, and you know he's close to the edge. You tighten your legs around him, using your core muscles to squeeze him, to keep him deep inside you as your body begs for release.

"Gonna fill you up so good." Yeosang's voice is a taunt, a challenge. "Show you who you really belong to." He drives into you with an aggression that borders on brutal, his hands bruising your hips. The pain is exquisite, and you hate how much your body responds to it. You want to scream, to claw his eyes out, but instead, you arch your back, offering yourself up to him, begging for more.

"S-Show me." you smile weakly, clawing into his skin. "Y-You're still fucking obsessed with my pussy. Still a fucking manwhore. Can't get enough of me, can you?" The words are acid on your tongue, but they're what he wants to hear. What you both need to hear.

Yeosang's eyes narrowed, the insults stoking the fire in his eyes. "You're just a desperate slut, aren't you?" he snarled, his grip on your hips tightening. "You'd let anyone fuck you to feel wanted again."

"Shut up." you cry out. "I'm so fucking close, shut up!" You can feel your orgasm building, a crescendo of pleasure and anger that's about to crash over you like a tidal wave. Yeosang's words are like gasoline on the fire, and you want to hate him for it—but instead, they just make you wetter.

He smirks, his thrusts becoming erratic. "That's right," he murmurs, his voice thick with arousal. "You love this. You love the way I treat you like a whore."

You want to argue, to scream in his face that you're not, that he's the one who's ruined everything. But the words die on your lips as his cock hits that perfect spot, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. You grit your teeth, trying to hold back the moan that wants to escape.

"You love it when I talk dirty to you," Yeosang whispers, his voice a dark caress against your ear. "You're nothing but a whore, begging for more." His strokes grow harder, his hips slapping against yours with a sound that seems to echo through the room.

You want to scream, to tell him to stop, but all that comes out is a guttural moan as your orgasm crashes through you. "Yeosang," you whimper his name, your voice a plea for release.

He laughs, a harsh sound that sends shivers down your spine. "You're going to come for me, aren't you?" His voice is a mix of triumph and disdain.

"Y-Yeah," you moan. "Just don't stop-" You're so close, your vision swimming with the intensity of your climax.

"Worthless bitch," Yeosang grunts, his grip tightening, his strokes growing more punishing. "Fucking cumdump, yeah?" His voice is a snarl, his eyes burning with a mix of anger and lust. "Admit it."

You bite your bottom lip, feeling the tension in your body coil even tighter. "Asshole," you spit back, your eyes flashing. "I'd rather be a cumdump than a cheating prick like you." The words come out as a moan, your body betraying you as you climb closer and closer to the edge of your orgasm.

And finally, your climax crashes over you, a mix of pleasure and pain that leaves you trembling beneath him. "Yeosang," you moan, his name a curse on your lips as your body convulses around him. You hate the way his name sounds so good coming out of your mouth, especially when you're in the throes of passion.

He doesn't slow down, his own release building as he watches you come apart. "You're mine," he growls, his teeth sinking into your shoulder. The sting of pain is a sharp contrast to the pleasure that's still pulsing through you. "Always have been, always will be."

[venuslarkspur]

Can I please request a teen female reader (15-17?) who’s entered the games to help her family, like all the responsibilities have fallen to her after her dads death 🥺💕(ANY CHARACTERS WILL DO) ILY UR PINK HAIR FIC AS WELL)

Playtime’s Over.

Pairing(s): Squid Game Characters meet Fem!Teen!Reader, (ALL PLATONIC). Contains: Thanos, Se-Mi, Kang Dae Ho, Seong Gi Hun, Cho Hyun Ju, Park Gyeong Seok.

Summary: Them just doting on Teen Reader and wanting to protect her!

Note: This can be read as gender neutral as well! I didn’t really go out of the way to make it female looking back. NOT PROOFREAD I COULD NOT BE ARSED

Warning(s): ANGST, mentions of eating, VIOLENCE, family problems.

Thanos

- He immediately takes a liking to you and can straight away tell you’re not actually 18. (I’m with the firm belief this man would have a soft spot for kids)

- Forces the rest of the group to refer to you as “yeodongsaeng” (or little just sister) and it makes you feel loved, even though you know he’s full of shit , kids see everything.

- You swear that sometimes he thinks you’re his actual sister, with the way he acts towards you; others in the game constantly think you’re actual siblings.

- Nearly gives you some of his drugs before he remembers your age and tells you to scram and do your homework.

- Doesn’t let Nam-Gyu shit talk you, would sooner slap him on the head than let him do that, and firmly reminds him you’re his younger sister now as well. That thought of being his sister made you want to vomit, but you wouldn’t mind Thanos being your brother though.

- Bonding over your father’s not being around anymore! Even though your circumstances are very different.

- When 2 players are called In mingle. He hesitates, despite the drugs running through his system; he shouts at Nam-Gyu to go with Min-Su while he drags you into a nearby room. Dumbfounded you still were, as he picked you first.

- You had found someone, despite his countless flaws and bullshit. There was still someone, until there wasn’t anymore. And you were left alone again.

Se-Mi

- You’re the only one she’s letting call her ‘unnie’, very protective of you even before knowing your true age.

- If you need a distraction she will let you play with one of her rings while she asks you how school is and how you are doing.

- Very torn when she hears you’re providing for a whole family by yourself, wants to be there for you. Since you’re a kid with no parents to guide you here.

- Would give you her milk carton and egg. She doesn’t want it anyway just take it!

- Lets you trail after her like a duckling.

- Isn’t afraid to tell anyone to leave you alone if you’re getting picked on.

- Has an epiphany when she realised the reason your so good at the games is because it probably hasn’t bee long since you played them on the school courtyard :(

- Protects you in mingle, even though she knows she won’t always be able to keep you safe. But it ended up being her you failed to save.

Kang Dae-Ho

- Was the first person to jump in and help you when you were getting abused by one of the other players, an older man that you had pickpocketed quite recently; naturally, he longed for his revenge, firmly punching your stomach, you fell to the ground immediately; he grabbed your hair and before he could land a blow on your face another player stepped in.

- “Leave the kid alone.” Another man, younger this time whose number read “388” had jumped in to defend you. The older man backed off slightly, but still felt the need to verbally attack you. “You know this little bitch?” He spat out, locking eyes with you. “This kid stole cash from me!” He screamed pointing an accusatory finger at you. You weren’t denying, you hanged your head in guilt; even if you explained your circumstances, he wouldn’t care. “Maybe she did, but shes just a defenceless kid,, lay off.” and with that the stingy man trotted away, maintaining eye contact with you.

- Player 388 had checked up on you after that, since that day you were overly attached to him. Trailing after him, he didn’t mind at all not one bit. He told you he actually had several older sisters and it was nice to have a younger one for a change.

- He respects your strength and perseverance more than anyone, having to provide for an entire family when you’re just a kid yourself is TIRING work and unimaginable for him.

- Encourages you to make your own choices, like don’t pick “O” or “X” just because he did.

- Makes sure you are one of the first prioritised during mingle, he saw what happened to Young-Mi and couldn’t live with himself if the same happened to you. You do a lot of hand holding after what happened to Young Mi; he’s scared to let go.

- He hates seeing how little hope there is in your eyes for someone so young, it’s his personal mission to make you feel hope again.

Seong Gi-Hun

- Even though he’s kind of in his depressed era rn, all he sees when he looks at you is his daughter staring back at him. Acknowledges straight away that you’re only a bit older than her.

- It takes you a while to catch on, but you eventually realise why he’s protective of you. His own daughter wasn’t around anymore is the conclusion you came to, where she is or if she is you don’t know. Only that he must not see her anymore.

- scolds you quite a lot, telling you that you shouldn’t even be here anyway. That instead you should be doing your homework or studying for your next exam.

- When the cameras watch he has to distance himself from you, he doesn’t want the Frontman to know of his now emotional connection with you.

- You remind him of Sae-Byeok in an odd way.

- Would never forgive yourself if you died, you’d constantly be on his mind.

Cho Hyun Ju

- I can’t lie she initially tries to stay clear of you, she knows if she gets too attached and you die, she won’t be able to live with herself.

- But she can’t seem to get rid of you, you follow her around like a baby duck.

- You, Her and Young-Mi become like a sisterhood, she’s the oldest and you’re the baby of the group. You both call her ‘unnie’

- Young Mi gives you her food and Hyun Ju follows along and passes you some milk. Because you need it to be “big and strong”

- She has so many questions about how you ended up in here. Where are your parents? What are your family doing if you’re here? Shouldn’t you be in school?

- When Young Mi dies she gets very protective of you, she’s not losing you as well.

Park Gyeong-Seok

- Projection!!! He’s missing his daughter, you’re missing your dad! The perfect duo.

- On a serious note he hates how attached he is to you.

- You joined his group in the 2nd game and you played Flying Stone. He knows something was off about you, even putting on a tough exterior you seemed so childlike. When you confess your actual age he’s horrified, he didn’t want to believe it. How on earth are you in debt?

- He can’t believe you’re providing for a whole family. He struggles just providing for his daughter.

- Encourages you to hit “X”, trust me you don’t want to die here, you can’t help your family from your grave.

- If you seem a little hungry he offers you his food.

- You’re attached by the hip during mingle, you never left his side.

- He comforts you during the riot in lights out. Cradling your body, and running his hands through your hair to calm you down; wondering if this is how he’d hold his own daughter if she were here.

- You beg him not to go with the others in the revolt, he almost doesn’t. And later he’d wish he didn’t.

[slytherinlives]

I Feel Nothing For You - Sebastian Sallow

Rating: G

Tags: Hurt, break-ups, denial, angst.

Words: ~700

Summary: Sebastian tries to rid himself of the lingering presence post break-up.

(This is written with a gender-neutral "ex partner" that could be considered x reader if you squint. It could also be anyone else you want to use as a stand in. I didn't go into this with a ship in mind, just wanted to write a drabble of angst.)

[Read on ao3 or below the cut]

The water pouring from the tap was cold enough to cut off Sebastian's blood flow. His breaths coming in heaving gasps as he diligently scrubbed his skin, desperate to remove the lingering touches and their scent. As if he could get underneath and wash away their memory. 

He moved on to his hair next, then his face, before grabbing a nail brush he pilfered from his sister and started scrubbing away all traces of them from his hands. 

Sebastian wanted to be a version of himself that was never tainted by the heartache he felt. A layer of chill bumps formed on his flesh, causing all hair to stand on end and a shiver to wrack through him. It made him scrub faster, harder. Diligent and harsh, whatever it took to remove fingerprints. 

After what was surely an hour Sebastian turned the water off, wrapping a towel around himself before heading over to the sink. He turned the cold water on, then started brushing his teeth just as vigorously. The taste of them had to be removed just as effectively. 

Never existed. 

He repeated in his head for hours now, thinking the more he said it the more it would be true.

Sebastian already tossed and burned every trace of them in his dorm. Every piece of clothing, gift, letter. All of it turned to ashes in the furnace that sat in the middle of the room. It was especially difficult to cast a charm to make any future correspondence from them unable to reach him, but he managed. Hopefully if they tried to send a letter, the post would be sent off to the void. 

Most people probably treated a breakup or heartache much differently than Sebastian is currently. He was probably expected to wallow in bed for days or seem more broken up than he appears. But Sebastian isn't most people. 

Never existed. 

He rinsed his mouth out and wiped away the remnants of water and toothpaste from his lips before tossing the dirty towel into the bin and headed back to his dorm. 

Everything in his wardrobe was now brand new. Sale tags still hanging on the sleeves of the new uniforms, he ripped them off as he got dressed. The bag holding his books was also new, everything that became tainted now replaced. 

Sebastian ran his fingers through his still damp hair, taking one last look in the mirror before heading out the door. Hushed whispers surrounded him as he walked past, the news spreading throughout the castle like wildfire already. He didn't care though, as far as Sebastian was concerned, the gossip was about a ghost.

Before he could enter the great hall, someone stopped him. Sebastian hesitated slightly, before turning.

"Can we pretend like this never happened?" They spoke sullenly, looking at him with tear filled eyes. A mix of regret and longing on their face. Now standing before him and begging for a second chance, to get back together.

They probably meant the argument between them earlier. The shouting, the anger, words hurled at each other so harshly they struck physical blows. Likely referring to the inevitable calling it quits. 

Sebastian swallowed at the words, thinking them over briefly before settling on what he needed. For the first time in years not choosing what he wanted. He regarded them with a blank stare. The same one he would give any stranger he didn't know. "Never happened." He finally spoke, a half-hearted smirk crossing his lips. Then he pushed past them and into the hall, walking over to take his place at the Slytherin table.

This is where the request differed. 

For Sebastian, they never met. Never shared secrets or dreams. Never stayed up late mapping the stars or talking about their futures. Never shared themselves with each other. Never explored around the castle together. Never shared jokes or laughs. 

Perhaps he was being too cruel, acting too unbothered. 

But Sebastian learned a long time ago that when something hurts, it's easier to pretend it didn't happen. Shut yourself off and turn yourself numb. Get rid of everything that reminds you of it. If there's no trace, there's no proof. If you don't feel the burn, then you're already healing.

If you don't want to feel the pain, it's easier to act like it never existed. 

[ohmybueckers]

Never Strangers: Chapter Three

Word Count: 4.3K

Warnings: binge drinking, I think that’s it???

Authors Note: heyyyyy guys. Sorry this chapter took a hot second to come out and sorry it’s a lot more filler than other chapters - a LOT more was supposed to happen in this one, but I realized I could cut them into two and get this one posted faster. Which means 1. chapter four will come out a lot quicker than this one did and 2. it will be a lot more exciting than this one (based on the ending you can see why). anyways xoxo enjoy!

“No fucking way!”

Brooke braced herself on our kitchen counter, examined my phone like she had never seen one before. I was very aware of the fact my behead was still intact and I hadn’t even washed my face this morning, but I knew Brooke would classify this as an emergency that needed attending to ASAP.

“There’s no way,” I groan, wondering how my mission of avoiding Paige and all feelings associated with her at all cost had blown up in my face less than twenty four hours after getting here. “How does she even know?”

Brooke looked equally puzzled, her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowing before her posture straightened comically fast like a puppet. She shouted, “Adria!”

I was still confused, now even more so. “What?”

“Her story from last night must have gotten to KK, which somehow made it to Paige.”

In recent years I have become what my friends have lovingly referred to as “chronically offline” - it had to have at least been 2 days since I had opened Instagram, and I certainly didn’t follow the younger girl last night. Safe to say I had zero clue what she was referring to. “What story?”

Brooke grabbed her phone from the kitchen countertop, typing quickly before shoving her phone back in my face. Sure enough, Brooke and I were the stars of the story, both holding our glasses and wearing big smiles (certainly a symptom of the cheap wine). How Adria managed to find my account to tag me, I was not sure. All I knew is that Paige most likely saw it, and that a shameful part of me was at least a little happy that I looked good in the photo.

There was certainly no erasing Paige’s memory, so this text was mine to tackle. “Alright, how do I even respond to this?”

From the way Brooke looked at me, you would think I just suggested transferring again. “Respond? You’re kidding, right?”

I shrug, not exactly enthused by the idea of interacting with Paige on my first full day, but not enjoying the alternative either. “I mean, she knows now. It’s kinda rude to not say anything, isn’t it?”

“What’s rude is talking to a girl as if she’s your girlfriend, treating her like your girlfriend, and then disappearing out of nowhere and lying to her about it. You know exactly why she’s trying to hit you up again,” Brooke grabs my shoulder with care, a gesture I leaned into, “If she thinks you’re easy enough to let her in again, you gotta show her she’s dead wrong.”

My mind felt like it was destroying itself trying to figure out the truth. Part of me wanted to listen to Brooke, who had never once led me astray in her advice and had enough experience with fuck boys to know how they tick - even if the fuckboy in question was actually a girl. Everything she was saying matched the image I had built up about Paige in my head for years. 

Once my heartbreak molded into anger, it became a hell of a lot easier to get over Paige, at least enough to date other people at Minnesota. Anger became comfortable for me - except the occasional nights I spent alone in my dorm, looking back at old photos I couldn’t bring myself to delete permanently from my ICloud. Nights where I wondered if I actually had it all wrong, and if somehow I let myself get too comfortable hating Paige to consider any alternative to what was my truth. Was it pathetic to hold on to a grudge from over three years ago? I really didn’t know sometimes. 

I shut my phone off, reassuring Brooke that I was not going to fall back into Paige, which she seemed to accept fairly easily. Brooke ultimately just wants what’s best for me, and the last thing I wanted was for her to spend her last year at UConn worried about me. She had the LSAT to focus on, not my situation with my ex.

Which is why I conveniently forgot to inform her when I decided to respond to Paige that night, waiting until the sun had set and nearly twenty four hours had passed before sending a simple “yes”, throwing my phone on my bed and taking a long shower before I could decide I made a grave mistake. 

———-

The first day of classes came quick, which I was thankful for - there’s only so much time a girl can spend in her poorly air conditioned apartment, and it’s not like Storrs had that much going on when school was not in session. What I was not thankful for was my packed Monday schedule, starting with an 8am economics lecture that I wouldn’t have taken if it wasn’t the last one available to satisfy a requirement, and ending with general chemistry (again, would not take if I didn’t need to squeeze a science credit in). 

If my 3 alarms weren’t enough to wake me up, I could rely on the sun blazing through my apartment at 5:30AM. After making a mental note to finally order some curtains, my full morning routine commenced, the one I saved for special occasions (or for when I simply could not fall back asleep): 20 minutes of pilates, followed by a citrus scented shower, a full makeup routine, and styling my nearly black hair in loose curls. 

By 7:30 I was ready to begin my walk to the business school, smoothing out my floral sundress and hoping it would instill some confidence in me. I would probably lean back into wearing jeans within the next week, but I still had some belief in my mom’s insistence that dressing well on any first day or impression mattered. I guess it did make me feel pretty, in a “belongs more on a Hollister catalogue than a college campus” kinda way. The dress did not fix the way my my first day nerves seemed to wreak havoc on my body, causing me to barely shove a protein bar down my throat before my body decided that was all the breakfast it could handle.

If I were still in Minnesota, my walk to classes would have been a whole lot louder. It was not often I had a commute where I didn’t curse the incompetence of Minnesota drivers. This was not the case in Storrs, partially because there were no drivers. Aside from the shuttle that passed me as I turned onto Alumni Drive, the only sound to accompany me was Beyoncé serenading me through my headphones. While Minnesota was simply a college with a large city unrelated to it, it was evident that Storrs would be almost nonexistent without UConn - if Minnesota was a city school, this felt almost like summer camp in comparison.

 I didn’t know exactly what to make of it yet, but I promised myself I would keep an open mind. I had to. There was no turning back now. 

———-

The day ended up being just as exhausting as I anticipated, potentially even more so. I’m used to liking first days. The idea of a new start each semester usually feels exciting, but this time I may have bit off more than I can chew. Syllabus week at Minnesota was a breeze, my calendar filled with classes where we just went over standard course expectations followed by frat parties I pretended to have interest in. The second my economics professor began lecturing after covering the syllabus for a measly 10 minutes, I knew he did not roll that way.

I genuinely have no idea how I made it through my high school schedule every day: multiple AP classes, followed by an afternoon job tutoring middle schoolers, with mock trial practice shortly after. It’s a miracle I found time to actually have a social life. Clearly my stamina had depleted severely, as by the time I stepped into my history discussion (seriously, who holds discussion when there isn’t anything to discuss yet), I had already made an emergency stop for coffee and was contemplating whether it was possible to take a nap in my thirty minute passing period before my chemistry lecture.

I made quick stop in the bathroom to fix my mascara and ensure the concealer under my eyes wasn’t crumbling (it was). Leave it to a hot September day and a bathroom with yellow tinted lighting to deplete my confidence: my once voluminous curls fell flat to my face, frizz accumulating at the roots. My concealer which had been matched to fit my warm skin tone now made me appear sallow, and my eyes were not fooling anyone - I was truly, undoubtedly tired. Not much I could do at this point other than use a generous amount of travel size dry shampoo, wipe the remnants of my mascara from under my eyes, and hope that the lighting in my discussion wasn’t as harsh.

I stepped into the classroom and was quickly overwhelmed by the size of it - not because it was too big, but because it was intimately tiny. I had been comfortable in my two previous classes, the large lecture halls allowing me to fade a little into anonymity - just another body struggling to stay awake as my professor explains the importance of studying economic law in the most monotonous tone possible. Looking at the long fake wood table and the twelve chairs, four of which were filled, I realized my streak of avoiding introductions had ended. 

After a quick scan, I chose to set my stuff down next to the person who scared me the least: a tall girl with pin straight long black hair, dressed in black baggy cargo pants and an oversized SZA shirt, complete with silver rings on her fingers which were currently in use scrolling her laptop. I offered a customary closed mouth smile as I sat down and set my book bag down on the table. 

There was a short pause where the only sound to hit my ears was the hum of the far too harsh overhead lighting as I took out my laptop, before I heard a deep voice ask, “long day, huh?”

As I turned to face the girl and processed her statement, it was evident that my attempt at looking put together was no longer working, especially now that the humidity had done a number on my hair. To be fair, I did feel like I was about to crash. “Tell me about it,” I replied, face flushed. I began to wonder if I should have sat next to the frat boy who was scrolling on UConn’s barstool account instead.

Maybe she took pity on how embarrassed I looked, because the smirk was erased from her tanned face and was replaced by a look of sympathy. “Hey, I don’t blame you. My 8AM econ lecture was brutal.”

The gears turned in my brain before I realized just what she had said. “Wait, which econ class?” After the taller girl recited a number from the schedule on her lock screen, I grinned. “We’re in the same lecture!”

“I cannot believe he would teach that much content on the first day.” She rolled her brown eyes, “Ok, let me guess. History and economics classes, leather planner… you’re pre-law, aren’t you?”

I mean, she technically wasn’t completely wrong. “Yes?”

“Then why haven’t I seen you try out for mock trial?” She asked, a perfectly shaped brow raised high and the Colgate smile smirk returning to her face. Her voice was low and teasing - definitely the flirty personality type. I could recognize it all too well.

Not wanting to explain my long and complicated history with the organization, I settled for the easy answer. “I just transferred here.”

“Well, we’ll be at the org fair if you want to sign up for a tryout spot,” She smiled, “Just tell them that Alex sent you.”

“Going to take a wild guess here and assume you’re Alex,” I quipped, though I will admit the effort did bring a small smile to my face. “I’m Maya.”

“See! I can already tell you’re clever enough for us,” Alex joked, a ring clad hand bracing her head on the table as she stared at me. I noticed the way she scanned me, her eyes falling down to the v neck of my dress before tracing back up to my smile. I suddenly felt the need to smooth out the bottom of my dress against my legs, my hands feeling very sweaty. 

 Before I could respond, the TA announced the start of the period, and both of our heads turned to the front. The rest of discussion was spent typing notes on when my paper was due and what constitutes academic dishonesty, all while trying to ignore the way the girl next to me kept shooting looks my way.

————

The one benefit of my packed Monday/Wednesday schedule was that my weekend was essentially four days long. I had two classes on Thursday, both criminally early, but it meant that I was done by noon and ready to enjoy a few days with nothing on my agenda… at least once I finished all of my assignments my professors had mercilessly assigned on the first week. 

A groan left my lips for what had to have been the third time in ten minutes as my eyes squinted to make out my general chemistry textbook. I had read the same paragraph around 5 times now, and each time I seemed to understand it less. Even though Adria invited me to study with her on the patio of her favorite coffee shop, I was sure she was about to tell me to leave. “I don’t know how I did AP Chem in high school, this is like a whole other language to me now.”

Adria laughed, looking up from her organic chemistry book (the contents of which I’m pretty sure would give me an aneurysm). “Not a STEM girl?”

“Definitely not a STEM girl,” I shook my head, unsure why the version of me who picked her schedule over the summer decided taking a notorious weed out course was a great idea. Taking a quick sip of my matcha, I added, “But I don’t know if I’m necessarily a law girl either. Been a real pain trying to figure it all out.”

“You will, I promise. Besides, I can always tutor you,” Adria reassured me softly, a gesture that would be a lot sweeter if there wasn’t a tiny voice in the back of my head nagging me for needing a pep talk from someone so much younger than me. If Adria can have everything figured out, why can’t I? “Enjoying UConn so far though?”

“Yeah, it’s been okay! I’ve met some nice people in my classes,” I think about how Alex quickly spotted me yesterday morning in lecture and gestured to have me sit with her and her mock trial friends. Turns out sitting through an 8AM lecture on law and economics was a lot easier when you had a friend next to you. “I think Brooke wants to go to bars this weekend though, and I just know the lines are going to be awful.”

Adria lit up at this. “There’s a party being thrown by members of the mens basketball team tomorrow - someone basically rented out Huskies. I got access to one over the summer and it was a ton of fun - you should come!” 

My mouth opened, trying to form a response. On one hand, it’s not like I had any concrete plans yet, and staying in on the first weekend after classes just felt wrong. But the words basketball rung in my ears like an unwelcome echo. Brooke’s warning that Paige was everywhere on campus rung true already, already overhearing her name in conversations more times than I could count. Seeing her and possibly talking to her? That was a whole other ball game, one that I weren’t sure I was ready to play. It wasn’t even necessarily that I wasn’t over her yet, but rather that we hadn’t spoken beyond a couple of short text exchanges in years (the most recent of which Paige hadn’t even responded to). Running into her was bound to be awkward, and I was determined to avoid the discomfort.

“Oh Adria, I don’t know…”

Adria cut me off, her voice insistent and almost desperate. “Please come. Brooke usually ends up leaving with some guy and I don’t want to be alone. All of my other friends can’t come, they have to be dry for sorority rush.”

I scoffed, though there’s no bite as I joke, “So you’re saying I’m your last option?”

“I’m saying I saved the best for last,” Adria gave a sheepish shrug. “If it helps change your mind at all, the women’s team won’t be there. KK said they were all going to Ted’s.”

I knew that there was no point of basing my choices at UConn based on whether or not I could run into Paige, but I would be lying if I said the reassurance wasn’t helpful. “I guess I could be convinced.” 

Adria clapped, her smile big enough that agreeing already felt like the correct decision. “You won’t regret it, I promise. Pregame at yours?”

————

If there’s one thing I learned after two years going to college in the midwest, it’s how to throw a damn good pregame.

I felt the bass of my music from my JBL speaker course through my body as I set a shot glass back down on the faux granite countertop, wincing as the cheap tequila flowed down my throat. Brooke, Adria, and Brooke’s friend Marley stared at me, a mix of both amazement and slight concern on their face. On nights out, I have been known to pregame heavy, especially nights where I don’t know most people there. For one, it means I spend less money, plus it gives me some much needed extroversion to make it through the night. 

“Damn girl, I did not know you could drink like that,” Brooke whistled, sipping on her High Noon tenderly. Her and Marley had other plans for the night, some frat event. Brooke claimed the only reason she would be caught dead at a frat as a senior is because Marley’s boyfriend was the president and so they got special treatment, but I had my suspicions she might have a frat crush of her own. 

I felt the buzz as the four of us left our apartment, Adria and I running to catch our bus in order to avoid the thirty minute walk. In my alcohol induced giddiness, I noted how the sky faded from a bright blue into a mosaic of purples, pinks and yellows as the sun set over the lush trees. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Adria’s phone face me as I gripped the pole, looking out the window of our bus with the amazement of a kid in a candy store. I had spent the past week unsure of what to make of Storrs, but it felt almost romanticized in this moment.

Unfortunately, the picturesque moment did not carry into Huskies, an establishment that was far more of a restaurant than a true bar. A tennis game played over the TV, paired with the speakers blasting Drake as we were surrounded by a sea of girls with bleach and tones and Princess Polly crop tops. The basketball players seemed almost allergic to mingling with their invitees: aside from one or two attempting to chat up one of the girls, they all stood at their own table sipping beers and looking like they would rather be anywhere else. 

Adria ordered us drinks as I snagged us a table. Soon enough we stood side by side, sipping on Captain Morgan and Coke and a tequila sunrise respectively, unsure of what to make of what we were seeing. “It was a lot more exciting over the summer, I swear,” Adria looked apologetic, “Maybe it’s just one of those things where we have to get drunker?”

I was making a mental note to take two Tylenol before bed for the sake of my tomorrow morning self when a man’s voice emerged from the crowd. 

“Adria, you made it!” A pale man with floppy brown hair and impossibly long legs emerged, grin on his face as he wrapped Adria in a side hug. She returned the hug and the smile while brushing a braid away from her face, though hers seemed more forced. She finally pulled away when he began rubbing her arm, her face lighting up upon making eye contact with me.

“This is my friend Maya, she just transferred here.”

He grinned, reaching a hand out to shake hers with a firm grip. “Hey, I’m Noah. You made a good choice!” 

“He plays for the team, I think he might be a bit biased,” Adria remarks, earning her a shocked look from her friend who quickly turned his attention away from me and onto her.

“Me and some of the guys were going to play some darts, you wanna be my partner? I’m sure we can find a partner for Maya as well,” Noah gestures to me without turning his head, as though I am an afterthought. While it’s not like I’m dying to play drinking games with a group of NBA hopefuls, it wouldn’t hurt to at least act like I’m there.

Adria clearly did not want to play as well, as she stuttered out some half-assed excuse. “I think we’ll stay here! Don’t want to risk, um, losing this table.”

Losing this table? Looks like I also needed to make a note to teach Adria how to lie. It was beyond obvious that Noah wasn’t buying it, but I guess  he was choosing not to be confrontational. With a cough, he replied. “Right, um, well I’ll catch up with you later tonight then!”

The second he was well out of earshot (not that far, considering the volume they were playing Passionfruit at), my interrogation began. “Who was that?”

Adria looked down at her drink, looking uncharacteristically unconfident. “That was my in to this bar. We met over the summer.”

I nodded, watching as Noah stopped to chat with a mix of guys and girls under the flashing blue and pink lights. “Well I’m pretty sure he wants to get with you.”

“Oh trust me, he’s tried.” Adria deadpanned, evoking a laugh from my glossed lips. “He’s still a good guy, and I like being his friend. But I’m not into him like that.”

“Is it KK?”

Adria bit her bottom lip, and for a moment I feared I had gone too far, like we weren’t quite at the point in our friendship where that wouldn’t be a sensitive subject. I was ready to retract my question when she spoke softly. “We’re not exclusive… at least I don’t think so. I haven’t been with anyone else, but who knows if she has.”

Man, Adria really liked this girl. Some part of me was thankful to give some advice to her for once, although it’s not like my history gives me the authority to give relationship advice. “Have you tried talking to her about it?”

“Absolutely not.” She shook her head, her eyes wide. “I’m way too scared to hear the answer.”

I felt a pang in my chest, relating to that feeling all too well. I’ve always had a tendency to protect my peace too hard, avoid asking questions to escape conflict - through the years, I’ve discovered it almost never ends well. “But do you think you might be hurting yourself more by not knowing?”

Adria took a pause, staring off as Noah and his friends began frat flicking to some song that did not warrant that at all. “I am not drunk enough to think about that right now.” 

We both laughed, silently agreeing to down the remainder of our drinks at the same time. The ice had melted well with the remainder of my sunrise, dulling the burn of the tequila. This was probably a good thing - I’m pretty sure my tolerance was lowered over the summer, because I felt my body get warmer than anticipated despite the air conditioning working overtime. Adria set her drink down on the table, turning to me once more. From the glint in her eye, I knew she was about to return my line of questioning. “What about you? Are you looking to get set up, because I’m sure that’s the reason those guys invited all of us here in the first place.” 

“First of all, I’m gay,” I began, examining the crowd in front of me. “I’ve been here like a week, haven’t really had the time to think about hooking up with anyone.”

“Well, what’s your type?”

I thought for a moment about my (limited) history. “Tall, athletic, nice eyes…”

“Paige.”

I rolled my eyes, though I would be lying if I said the blonde was not included in my thought process. “I mean it, I’m done with her.”

“No, no. Paige. Right over there.”

It felt like my heart plummeted to my ass, the effects of the alcohol consumed unable to keep me cold as a chill rushed through me. Before my brain could tell me not to look, my head snapped to the front. Two girls now stood at the front of the bar, talking to the male players. One girls laugh cut through the crowd, and I saw a small smile erupt in Adria. That must be KK. The girl next to her, hands shoved in the pockets of her cargo pants, didn’t even need to say or do anything. I could tell Paige Bueckers from any crowd.  

---

taglist (open!): @paiges-1vur @unadulteratedcyclepaper

[noblest-roman-of-them-all]

You're Not Broken

Janus ends up injured in a bit of a freak accident and Thomas can't help but wonder about the subconscious implications.

This does make reference to Too Soon, which is the conversation that Janus and Thomas had prior to thus incident, but can be read on it's own.

Thomas froze mid step as he trudged down the stairs, staring in fond confusion at Janus, who was lying peacefully asleep, across the top of the blinds.

How Janus had even gotten up there, he'd never know, but it did help narrow down what type of snake he was at least. Vaguely, Thomas wondered if perhaps he had ended up there on accident.

If Janus was indeed arboreal then perhaps in his room somewhere he had a perch he slept on, and had risen up into the living room in his sleep. Kind of like sleep walking but for more or less teleportation. Either way he seemed comfy enough up there, and Thomas's only real concern, as he quietly slipped into the kitchen to make coffe, was if Janus was staying warm enough.

Sure, heat rose, but the ac was on to keep things a little cooler for his own human needs. He did recall something about Janus's day wear being heat reflective so as to help him retain body heat once he was warm and dressed, but he wasn't sure the same could be said of his pajamas. After all, snakes tended to need things cooler to be able to sleep.

He glanced through the little window and out into the living room where Janus was perched. Maybe that had been the reason for the shift? Teleporting in his sleep to find a cooler place to rest? He turned back to his coffee with a thoughtful frown. It didn't matter exactly, he supposed, Janus was resting and that was what was important. It was honestly kind of endearing-

A snap! brought him out of his ponderings and in an instant Janus was on the ground, curling around his arm with a shocked and strangled scream.

Thomas swore under his breath and darted to Janus's side. "It's okay, I'm here," he tried to assure. "Lie back for me, bud, let me see you." The sharp angle his wrist was bent at was enough to make Thomas dizzy.

Janus glanced up through his tears at the blurry figure above him as he was gently pushed onto his back. "What's happening?" he breathed.

"You fell off the blinds," Thomas told him, gently stroking the scales at his temple. "I- I'm pretty sure your wrist is broken. Let me get Logan-"

"Remus!" Janus shouted instead.

The Duke appeared, clearly pulled directly out of bed, and shook his head, trying to reorient himself. "Where's the fire?" he complained, scrubbing his eyes.

"Janus is hurt," Thomas told him.

Remus snapped into action, rushing forward, bodily shoving Thomas out the way to kneel at Janus's side.

"He fell off the blinds," Thomas told him as he picked himself up off the floor.

Remus nodded, taking in Janus's condition in a glance. "Help me get him up," he ordered. "I'll hold his arm still, you get him up and let him lean on you." He gently took Janus's wounded arm in his hand, drawing a sharp gasp from him, and slipped his other under his body, while Thomas did the same. They moved in unison to push Janus into a sitting position and Thomas wrapped his arms around Janus, trying to offer some comfort.

Janus dropped his head back on Thomas's shoulder and gripped his arm with his good hand. Thomas glanced down at the hand on his arm, the strange texture of the skin momentarily distracting him. Wider scales seemed to cover the palm of Janus's hand, while patches of scales like on his face covered the back of his hand. This close he could see the same wider scales covering his throat and going down his chest.

"It's alright," he said softly, leaning his head against Janus's, snapped back to attention by a soft whine. "We gotcha, buddy, it's okay."

Thomas glanced over to find Remus had conjured a first aid kit and a pair of scissors. He watched at Remus carefully cut open the seam of Janus’s sleeve and peeled it back to revealed a deep purple and red mottled bruise that wrapped around his wrist like a bracelet.

Janus whined, fingers biting into Thomas's arm as Remus carefully probed the injury.

"Okay," Remus nodded. "Deep breath for me, Jan-Jan. I'll try to make it quick."

Janus wet his lips and nodded. He closed his eyes and let out a slow deep breath. Thomas ran his thumb back and forth on his chest and rested his other hand over Janus's to try to soothe him.

Janus still screamed, digging his heels into the floor, when Remus set his arm.

"All done," Remus promised. "Worst part is over. Just hold still so I can wrap it up."

Thomas started singing softly when he felt Janus's tears against his jaw, unsure of what else to do to help.

"All done," Remus said again and gently rested Janus's arm in his lap. "You okay?" he asked in a gentle tone that took Thomas by surprise. Even more surprising was the way Remus gently thumbed away his tears. It was a stark contrast to beating Roman over the head and ripping out Logan's teeth.

Janus nodded and leaned into Remus’s hand as he stroked his temple. "Thank you," he sighed. "Both of you."

"Let's get you to bed so you can rest." Remus wormed his arm between Thomas and Janus and tucked the other under his knees then pulled him carefully into his arms and dipped from the room.

Thomas sat on his knees, now stiff beneath him, for a long moment after the pair had disappeared.

"Kiddo?" Patton's soft voice broke the heavy silenced he'd been left in. "You okay?" he asked and knelt at Thomas's side with a hand on his shoulder.

Thomas shook his head. "Y-yeah, I'm- I'm fine."

Patton tucked an arm around his back and helped him to his feet. "What were you doing on the floor?"

"Janus fell off the blinds this morning. I was helping Remus with his arm. It looked like it was broken."

Patton frowned. "I didn't think we could get hurt after…after all that stuff Remus did to Logan."

"I didn't think so either, but…maybe it's different because he just fell and it wasn't something that someone else did to him? I-I dunno. Remus was able to set it and get it wrapped at least, so he'll be okay. I just…I didn't even know that could happen. I, um, I'm gonna check on him later. Let him get some rest for now."

—

Janus sighed at the light tapping on the door. "Come in," he called softly.

"Brought you some hot chocolate," Thomas said as he pushed up the door. "Wanted to see how you were doing after earlier."

"I'm alright." He groaned a little trying to get himself upright and Thomas rushed to his side to help, quickly putting down the mug and tucking an arm around his back.

"Take it easy," Thomas ordered gently. He passed Janus the mug once he was sure he was settled.

"Thanks."

"Did Remus do that?" Thomas asked gesturing to the bright yellow hard cast that now encased Janus scaled wrist.

Janus nodded. "The plus of his fascination with body horror, it makes him excellent at anatomy." He held up the cast. "It was a clean break at least."

Thomas stared at the cast a moment. "How did it happen? I mean, I know it happened, I saw that, but… I mean, Remus hit Logan with that throwing star and it just disappeared and he was fine. I guess I just don't get why your arm didn't heal as fast."

"I don't fully understand it myself, and even if I did it doesn't mean that I would be able to explain it. Suffice to say, Logan's role as Logic does play into it. Think about it, Roman was affected more severely by Remus’s action. Really it wasn't even so much the morning star that did it, it was Remus flicking him during his song, during an imaginative sequence, something that fell directly under both their roles as Creativity. Stories require logic, but logic doesn't inherently require stories, so when injured by Creativity, Logic sees no reason to abide by those rules and so remains largely uninjured."

"…I do get what you're saying and that does make sense, but it doesn't exactly answer my question."

"I don't particularly have an answer. It just is. Even if I did have a real answer chances are that I couldn't explain it or that you'd remember if I could."

"Why wouldn't I remember?" Thomas frowned.

"For the same reason you don't remember the conversation we had a few days ago," Janus told him. "You're not actually ready to accept the information I gave you. Virgil's right, you are the boss and you can know what you want, but I am still directly a part of your subconscious. You can say you want to know something, but if you don't truly want to know then I physically won't be able to tell you. I didn't silence Logan for fun, I silenced him because you needed a push to be truly ready to accept my existence. Because in that moment you weren't ready to hear it. Sometimes I'm silenced myself because you don't want to know things, and sometimes you push things out that you're not actually ready to accept after you've been told."

"I don't think I like the idea of not remembering an entire conversation from just a few days ago," Thomas muttered.

Janus gave a soft look ands set aside his mug to pat his bed. "Sit with me." Thomas complied with a sigh and Janus continued. "Even if you had been open to accepting all the information I gave you then, chances are you still wouldn't remember all of it because it was very late and you were exhausted. Not to mention you can't remember everything and beyond that you can't know everything. No one can know everything about themselves, can know everything in their subconscious. It'd be overwhelming to have all that information in your conscious mind. That's why information is either shut out or processed unconsciously in the first place."

"I mean…I guess that makes sense," Thomas admitted a bit glumly, drawing a smile from Janus, who patted his hand.

"I know it's upsetting, but it does keep you functional, which is, in fact, a large part of my function."

"Is it like…an analogy then or something?"

Janus frowned. "Is what an analogy?"

"Your arm," Thomas answered. "If you're…part of my subconscious…is something...broken about me?"

"Oh, sweetie, no," Janus assured softly. "There are…aspects of myself that are more reflective of you as our whole, but not this. You're not broken, sweetheart."

Thomas nodded, uncertainty making his chest ache a little. "Are you lying because I'm not ready to actually face it?"

"There are things that…need a bit of attention. There are things I can't outright tell you, but that doesn't make you broken. Wounded in some ways, yes, but not broken. I don't necessarily think there's a real reason for this-" he raised his casted hand "- but I suppose if you really wanted one, perhaps it was to get you to see Remus in a different light, or perhaps myself even. You're still getting to know us, still getting used to us." He shrugged. "Who knows? Don't go beating yourself up over it though, alright? You're not broken and this isn't your fault."

Thomas nodded. "Thank, Janus. Are you okay? Do you…need me to bring you anything else?"

"I'll be alright," Janus shook his head. "He's an absolute menace, but Remus actually does do a very good job of taking care of me. He is part of the same person as Patton after all," he winked. "Go on. I know you have things to do today. You can check on me later."

"Alright," Thomas relented. "Let me know if you need anything, though. I'll check on you later."

"I look forward to it," Janus answered with a smile.

[pokepollsters]

Lumi Plays Pokémon: White 2 Bug Monotype Run- Part 11

With the newly named Volcarona on our side, it's time to take the Pokémon World Tournament by storm!

Can we overcome Driftveil's mightiest and come out on top? (Yes we can, for some reason they're all level 25??)

The squad for the tournament is Lava Cake, Gumball, and Drumstick!

Lava Cake was suggested by @joltiksforbrains (the artist behind this gorgeous piece!) I love both the food reference and also the firey name! I just had to pick it with the image of Lava Cake being the proverbial icing on the cake that is the team!

Shout out to Godiva, a very good suggestion from @latyus that I only didn't go with because I didn't really want a brand name? But the reference to Volcarona's past worship was excellent!

Anyway, Lava Cake breezed through Boot, Cheren, and finally Colress with only a little support from the other two! She's definitely proving herself already, as she wins us the tournament and a single BP? They seem to skimp on the rewards here.

With some accolades under our belt, we head out on our way to Route 6, but we're stopped dead in our tracks by Team Plasma.

I switch Candy into the front to get the experience from all these battles, and we go to town! Several battles later, including a multi battle each with Cheren and Boot, and Team Plasma give up. Still, we're kicked out after meeting Zinzolin for the first time- a chilly man if ever there was one.

Boot is characteristically upset-

-but there's nothing to be done, so we head out for Route 6.

Candy stays in the lead because just one more battle later, he gets enough exp for...

Evolution!!! Our sweet lil rock Candy has grown up. I take a moment to go to the move relearner and get Shell Smash for Candy. Now we're really cooking! Congrats lil guy.

Route 6 continues, we're suddenly interrupted by Cheren telling us about the weather? It's okay though, because he gives us an important HM!

No one on the team can learn it, but I picked up a Ducklett earlier for this purpose, whenever we need to cross some water.

Route 6 keeps surprising with encounters though! A surprising face pops up, before quickly disappearing.

We'll be keeping an eye out for Cobalion in the future I suppose.

Finally at the end of the Route, I head into Chargestone Cave for another very important encounter.

Joltik, the final team member, has arrived! This lil guy is the last bug I wanted to grab. He's fast, a good special attacker, which we need more of, and the Electric Type will be instrumental in the next gym! We catch him, and head back to the Pokémon Centre to pick him up from the PC.

It's now we have to say goodbye to Nectarine. She's done well, but she doesn't have a place in the final squad I'm afraid. Everyone else brings more to the team, though Nectarine definitely proved her worth in Clay's gym! She gets a well earned rest now.

So for the last time- we need a name! I look forward to seeing what you come up with for our tiniest friend yet.

Next time, I'm planning on taking Surf around the world and grabbing items while training up the newbie! See you then!

[nerdy-nightmare]

Just realized at 12:36 AM that I was checking the wrong email for my ao3 invitation 😭🙏

Will be posting the fic tomorrow I’m so hype for yall to read it 😗🫶

[dreamdripdistance]

doodle time (theyre under the cut...!)

the faves + full page

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

Transcript:

I'm making a new hell and it's called hell 2 and it's for transphobes and people who don't piss hard enough.

Audio source

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

A gift horse for @piosplayhouse

[dogteath]

If you’re wondering how I came up with him

[thinkingabout-girls]

somebody get this kid a xanax prescription

[xxplastic-cubexx]

thinkin bout magneto's lil list of aliases from that One Shot of his government file or w/e in 97 and how it lists the three main men who've played him (David Hemblen, Ian McKellen, Michael Fassbender) and kinda cackling at the idea 1.) if they included All his names 2.) having 'michael' on that list twice

[mewguca]

5 Pebbles pebbsijack

[fish-are-fun]

Peri: I can't be around someone who just fueled by bitterness and negatively!

Irep: Well then, what are you doing here?

Peri:... What happened Irep?

Irep: Same thing that always happens. You didn't know me. Then you fell in love with me. Now you know me.

Peri: You know, it's funny. When you look at someone through rose-colored glasses, all the red flags just look like flags.