#the usage of the word boi is off the charts

[missdynamighttt]

↳ ❝ THERE'S NO ONE LIKE YOU, SWEETS. ❞

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ synopsis: in which, you make what feels like the worst decision of your life—getting into a hot tub with your fake boyfriend, katsuki bakugou.

starring: fake boyfriend! katsuki bakugou x oblivious! reader ⍣ ೋ

disclaimers!: fake established relationship, prefers ass, humping/ grinding, a little degradation, fingering, oral sex (f! receiving), sexual stuff in water

note: pro hero! katsuki drabble, usage of "woman", "sweets" "baby", "slut", fem reader, fake relationship trope, inspired by to all the boys ive loved before hot tub/ jacuzzi scene. I KNOW I HAVE A POLL, I PROMISE ILL GET TO THAT, JUST NEEDED TO GET THIS OFF OF MY CHEST💜💜

╰┈➤ ❝ [this is so stupid...] ❞ you mumble, walking down the hallway to the pool area, your arms crossed as the cold winter breeze hits your skin.

somehow, kirishima talked you into confronting your 'boyfriend', katsuki bakugou, after he started ignoring you in the class 1A ski-trip/christmas party this year.

"c'mon, girl, hes probably waiting for you in the hot tub 'nyway. get in there, and get him!"

it was only supposed to be a fake arrangement between you two. to be honest, you're not even sure why hes mad. but he was.

the hand-holding, hugs and kisses started to feel too real, the closeness felt too intimate. it was all getting in your head so you distanced yourself from him, sitting next to ochako in the bus instead of katsuki.

katsuki needed to get his ranks up in the charts and you needed publicity. that was all there was to it. supposed to be, anyway.

you reach the pool area and thats when you see him. katsuki bakugo. in the hot tub. shirtless. and in swimming trunks. he's lounging with his eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed, letting the heat and jets of the tub ease his muscles.

you catch your bottom lip between your teeth. you draw closer to the hot tub, perching yourself on the ledge across from katsuki, not getting in the water because you had a night gown on. for now.

though his eyes are closed, a slight shift in his demeanor reveals that he's aware of your presence. even in his attempt to maintain a façade of calm, the subtle tension in his shoulders and the tightening of his jaw betray his awareness of you.

"katsuki?" you tilt your head, trying to get his attention.

when he doesn't respond, you scoff, crossing your arms.

"wow, katsuki, real mature."

his eyebrow twitches at the comment on his maturity, his eyes flutter open. he looks at you with an unimpressed stare, his expression a mix of annoyance and... something else.

"oh, because you're a real shinin' example of maturity," he retorts, his voice tinged with sarcasm.

you frown at him. "seriously, why are you mad at me? and don't go yappin' about how you're not mad, i can tell."

"why do you think?" he grumbles, unable to meet your eyes as his cheeks tinged pink.

"...you've been hangin' around with round cheeks all fuckin' day."

that was all he was mad about? is he.. no. he couldn't be jealous. he had no reason to.

"that... that shouldn't matter."

"well, it does matter, goddamn it," he mutters angrily as his scowl deepens, his jaw clenching in frustration.

"you don't get it, do you? you're my girlfriend, you were supposed to sit with me."

"fake girlfriend-"

"i don't give a flyin' fuck. you're still my girlfriend, woman, fake or not. i expected you to sit with me. and instead, what do i see? you hangin' out with fuckin..."

he lets out an exasperated sigh, raking a hand through his wet hair. he looks like he's trying to find the right words to express his feelings without coming across as too jealous or vulnerable.

"fuck. fuck, i'm... i'm not tryna control you, okay? but it bugs the shit out of me. it bugs me that you were hanging with round face. it bugs me that you sat next to her instead of me."

katsuki's gaze softens at your quiet, conflicted expression. he sighs again, his eyes briefly darting away from you before he continues.

"i... i even brought your damn favorite snacks in case you got hungry," he mutters, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "i thought, we could have sat together and, you know..."

you look up at him, a hint of surprise widening your eyes. you contemplate how to continue, trying to lighten the mood with a soft smile. "do you... still have some left over?"

katsuki scoffs at the attempt to change the mood, but can't help the brief spark of amusement that flickers in his eyes.

"no, obviously," he replies with a roll of his eyes. "i ate some and gave kirishima the rest after you decided to ditch me."

"rude."

"damn right, it was rude. tch, ditchin' me like that."

you let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head, looking at him with a soft gaze. "i'm.. i'm sorry i didn't sit next to you."

katsuki's ears turned slightly pink as he hears your apology. he glances at you hesitantly before looking away again, trying to maintain his aloof demeanor.

"yeah, well, apology accepted, i guess," he mutters, his voice lacking its usual sharpness.

you nod, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. after a brief moment of silence, you gather your courage and shed your nightgown, revealing your bare skin as you slowly step into the warm embrace of the hot tub.

katsuki's eyes widen as you stripped, his heart rate speeding up at the sight of you in just a pair of black bra and panties. his eyes roam over your body greedily, taking in every curve and contour.

he clears his throat, his gaze is fixed on your figure as you step into the hot tub, the warm water enveloping you. he tries to keep his thoughts in check, but the sight of you like this, almost naked, is making it incredibly hard (like his dick).

"damn..." he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. "what are you doing to me, sweets?"

you look at him with eyebrows raised, a soft smile formed on your lips. "hm?"

he takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. the water laps around you two, creating a sense of intimacy, and it only adds to the tension.

"seriously, do you have to look like that right now?"

"like what?"

"like... that," his voice is hoarse, gesturing vaguely at your form. "like you're tryna drive me crazy."

katsuki reaches out, his hand hovering just above your torso before finally making contact, his fingers gently carressing the curve of your waist. his hand felt so warm, almost competing with the heat in his eyes now mixed with his raw desire for you.

"damn it, woman. you're killin' me here..."

"can i apologize for that too?"

"i'll forgive you... under one condition," he murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. his hand slowly roams over your bare skin, exploring your body with a newfound confidence.

he pulls you closer, the water sloshing around you as he guides you onto his lap. his arms encircle your waist firmly, every contour and dip of your bodies fitting perfectly against each other. the corners of his mouth tug to a grin."sit here for me."

your eyes widen in surprise as you feel a rush of heat across your cheeks. you could feel his hot, raging boner, pressing up against your cunt through the thin, pathetic fabric you call panties.

a cheeky grin spreads across your face. "katsuki, is that...?"

he groans, his voice low and gruff with frustrated desire. "just shut the fuck up, sweets."

his hands grip your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you nearer, his lips crashing against yours in a heated, hungry kiss. his tongue dances with yours, greedy and demanding.

the kiss was intense, filled with pent-up longing and need and so much words both of you couldn't say.

he keeps you trapped against his body with his arms in the hot tub, his touch both tender and possessive.

"such a nice fuckin' ass.." he whispers, groping and massaging your doughy ass before pulling you back in for a deeper kiss.

your arms are wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair as you grind on his hard-on, a little embarassed as you feel your panties dampen more from the water and your slick but can't help but want him. need him.

"fuck," he groans, feeling his cock get so painfully hard just from you humping him. "you little.."

your breath hitches when you felt his hand slide down your inner thigh, tugging the pathetic g-string to the side. he enters a finger inside of you, seperating your folds, feeling your warm pussy and your wet slick in the midst of the water. "k-katsuki-"

"aww, this all for me, sweets?" he coos, watching you whimper as he rubs your aching clit.

you pout as you grind against his hand, desperate for friction. your teeth sink into your lip as he put a second finger, your eyes glistening with a mixture of desire and greed. "so what if it is..?"

"that fucking eager for me, huh?" he chuckles darkly, his fingers enveloped by the warmth of your pussy as he curls them inside of you. "gonna take it all for me, yeah?"

you nodded, clinging onto him like a lifeline, whimpering and mewling choked versions of his name. "fuck, fuck.. kat- katsu.. katsuki..."

katsuki groans at the sound of his name on your lips, his hand your hips grip you tighter, pulling you closer, while curling his thick digits against your sensitive spots, the sound of your lewd noises music to his ears.

"see my fingers fuckin' you, baby?" he mutters, his lips find your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your tender skin. "only i can make your pretty pussy feel this good, yeah?"

"mhm," you manage. despite the embarrassment, you can't help but give in to the heat building between you.

his eyes lock onto yours, his voice sultry and mean. "you know, you're such a fuckin' slut. lettin' me finger you like this where anyone can see us."

a loud moan escapes your lips as your pussy clenches around his fingers at the name. you couldn't help it. fuck, he was so, so mean. and you fucking loved it.

a cocky grin spreads across his face, letting out a low chuckle. "oh? you like it when i call you a slut?" he taunts, bringing a grin to his face at your reaction. "can't believe you're into that shit, sweets."

"it's your fault- fuck.."

"oh? blamin' me now?" he taunts, a cocky expression on his face. "thought you were more.. mature than that."

katsuki flaps his fingers faster inside of you, abandoning the slow, careful pace of curling he did earlier. your slick and the hot tub water moistens his fingers, yet you can still smell the faint hit of your cunt.

"katsukiii! fuck, fuck, fuck. too much, too much..."

"just look at you, sweets. takin' my fingers like a champ, such a good fuckin' girl," he coos, his filthy praises making your pussy clench around his fingers.

"bet you wanted this as much as i did, did you?"

"n-no-"

"bullshit. if you don't, tell me to stop right now."

"sh-shit, no.. don't stop, please.. please, i need you.."

"that's what i thought," his grin widens, his hand that had been resting on your hip moves lower, tapping your leg gently. "lift your hips up for me."

with a nod, you comply, the water rippling around you as it drips out of your legs, katsuki finally seeing your sweet little cunt without the transluscent filter of the water. his grip on your thigh tightens slightly, letting out a shaky exhale as he rubs your clit.

"you close, sweets?" he glances up at you, his eyes meeting yours, feeling you nod before he leans in for a long, lingering kiss.

"cum on my face, 'kay?" he utters softly after pulling away, leaning down on your sweet cunt before lapping his tongue away at your aching slit while still pumping his fingers full of you.

his tongue felt so good. he felt so good, it hurts. all you could smell was the intoxicating scent of your cunt and katsuki's saliva sloshed together.

"katsuki..." you can't help but let out a lewd mewl, whimpering as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your body.

"there's no one like you, sweets," katsuki groans into your pussy, the loud sounds he was making as he ate you out while he fucked his fingers into you was just so lewd. when it felt so good. when anyone could catch you doing this. "cum on my face, baby, c'mon.."

you shudder from the pleasure from his touch as you feel your release, chest heaving up and down as you catch your breath. though, his tongue kept flicking at your clit, pumping his fingers in and out of you as you ride your high.

your post-nut clarity kicks in. fuck, you just.. let katsuki bakugo, your fake boyfriend, not only finger you but you let him eat you out. it doesn't matter you were into him. he was still your fake boyfriend.

and not just anywhere, no. but in the damn hot tub. where anyone could've seen you. the worst part? you enjoyed it to your core.

before you can think loudly again, you feel his lips brush gently against your cheek. you turn to look at him, a little surprised at the sudden show of tenderness after the heated moment as your eyes meet. you take in the disheveled sight of him, his hair damp and wet as he catches his breath, your mind still trying to catch up to the events of tonight.

"sweets... my room. now. please."

should i do part 2 guys lmaolmao hope you enjoyed 💜💜

[norikuna]

BED CHEM— geto suguru minors dni. art by to00fu !

welcome to the christmas tour ! take a seat in section (b) and let the show begin !

prologue. → ditching your friend's christmas condo party for your scrumptious, needy boyfriend? yes please!

want to try sitting somewhere else ? take a look at the ticket chart again !

pairing. geto suguru x afab!reader

warnings+. awful usage of brainrot slang to weird geto out (mission successful), making out, messy sèx, crèampiè, nothing crazy !

word count. 5k! song inspiration. bed chem — sabrina carpenter

a/n. happy 1 month birthday to this blog!!!!!! 😭 kind of fitting that i celebrate with a geto fic <3

mp3. where art thou? why not uponeth me? see it in my mind, let's fulfill the prophecy !

"hey," you say, holding up the dress and crinkling the red satin in your fingers, "what'd you think of this one?"

it's a gorgeous number, a sheer, corset bodice with a daring thigh-high slit, all set to softly drape off your shoulders. the kind of dress that screams 'sexy without trying too hard' and 'television heroine vampire heiress'. your goal in life.

geto doesn't even glance up from his latest obsession, crouched by the kitchen counter. he's eye level with a pavlova, drizzling raspberry glaze over it like he's performing surgery. without missing a beat, "it's cool. for someone desparate in witness protection," he deadpans.

you scoff, clutching the gown like the aforementioned television heroine, "you just say weird shit sometimes. what does that even mean? and a day one hater, didn't even look up..."

"and yet," geto mutters, still hyper-focused on his dessert, "i know i'm right."

you throw the dress onto the couch dramatically, "suguru, you bought this dress for me."

that gets your boyfriend's attention and he looks up, catching the gleam of familiar red satin, and visibly gulps, "oh. my bad. it's, uh, hot you'd look hot, i mean."

"nice save, baby," you arch a brow.

he tosses his inky black hair back, some of it falling right back into his face, "what's it for?"

you sigh, propping your legs up on the worn couch, "that big party, remember? my friend who got married and had a kid last year, y'know her right?"

geto hums, popping a fresh blueberry into his mouth, without taking his eyes off the pavlova, "mmph," he says through a mouthful, "the one who married the guy who cheated on her like thrice?"

you grin, delighted he remembers the gossip you've spoon fed to him over time, "yeah, well, apparently he tried making it up to her by buying her an entire condo."

geto wrinkles his nose in disgust, "tacky. ya' just can't buy class."

"totally," you sigh, "but it's so nice in there. and when she hosts parties there, i can't really complain. it's like, so gorgeous."

then, you glance back at your focused boyfriend, watching as he artfully arranges more berries atop the meringue, "mhm, speaking of gorgeous, are you gonna stand there making love to the pavlova all night, or are you gonna help me accessorise this thing?"

geto glances at you, his violet eyes narrowing playfully, "why so needy? jealous of whipped egg whites and sugar?"

you flop your arms to your sides with a dramatic sigh, "what if i am?"

geto exhales as though you are his most tiresome, and favourite thing in the entire world. grabbing a silver spoon from the cutlery rack, and dipping it into the sticky-sweet raspberry glaze. he's striding towards you, and there's that signature air of both exasperation and amusement, "open."

you comply, simply because dessert trumps dignity, and not before biting down on the spoon with unnecessary force just to mess with him. the glaze simply melts on your tongue, and you smack your lips, "mmm. wait, this shit's really good. what's it for?"

geto laughs, stepping closer to swipe his warm thumb across your bottom lip to catch a stray bit of glaze, "for us, jus' us. thought we'd have something sweet for christmas."

you clutch your chest like a damsel, "i thought i was your sweet thing for christmas."

your dear boyfriend rolls his eyes, swatting your arm lightly with the sticky spoon, leaving a smear of glaze, "tch, what am i gonna do with you?"

you gasp in mock outrage at the sensation, but geto's expression shifts, softening as he swings a knee up onto the arm of the couch, "wan' me to come with ya?"

you blink, thrown off from his hauntingly beautiful features that you'll never get tired of, "come with me where?"

"that party, love."

your jaw practically hits the floor, "wait, really? you actually want to? thought you hated these things?"

geto's lips quirk upwards, shrugging a shoulder, "the things i do for my pretty girlfriend."

cue the squeal. exaggerated just enough to irritate him, just a bit. you clutch his arm, bouncing slightly, "aw! you really do love me!"

geto's exasperated look cracks, softening into something far more quiet and fond. he places a hand on your head, ruffling through your hair just enough to make you scowl at the mess, "don't push your luck," he warns. but his tone betrays his amusement, "i just feel bad i haven't gone to any of the others with you."

"i'm glad you said that, though, suguru," you start, already scheming as you lean forward and rest your head on his knee like its the most natural pillow in the world. he lets out a soft puff of breath, almost instinctively leaning down to press a kiss to your temple.

"remember those high-waisted pants i said would look really good on you?"

geto frowns, "the ones you said made me look like a...and i quote, a slutty mushroom?"

"bingo. you should wear them. the world deserves to see your delicious gyatt —"

your baiting words are accentuated by a pinch to the back of his dark sweatpants but cut off by his sharp exhale, and the way his fingers, which had been lazily tracing the curve of your ear, freeze mid-motion.

"my what, love?" geto asks, his tone a mix of suspicious and the kind of dread reserved for people who know they're about to regret asking a question.

"gyatt," you repeat, completely unrepentant, no shame nor misery, "it means —"

"i know what it means," geto cuts in, deadpan with a faint and tell-tale blush creeping onto his tan skin, "i'm cutting off our wifi. all our electricity actually."

you laugh, patting his muscular thigh lightly before squeezing it again for good measure, "oh, so you do know what it means. that's embarrassing for you, babe."

"and yet, somehow, i still have the moral high ground," geto grouches, pinching the bridge of his nose, "and you say that i say weird shit. now you're bringing gojo's tiktok fuckery into my own home."

"first of all, it's our home," grabbing the red dress and standing, almost knocking him off the couch's arm, "second of all, my big and tall and beautiful boyfriend is such a cutie patootie when he's embarrassed."

geto groans, tilting his head back, "stop. you're emasculating me."

you pause in the doorway, "you cry everytime we watch strawberry shortcake. you do that shit to yourself."

"that was one time!" geto protests, but you can hear the smile colouring his voice.

"two times."

"the mermaid episode was emotionally poignant. power of friendship and moral honesty despite the promise of treasure," he calls after you, "you wouldn't get the timeless themes!"

well, mission accomplished. the dress fits you like a second skin, hugging all the right places. and you're not even ashamed of how long you spend admiring yourself in the mirror. the way the corset lifts your chest, well, it's definitely giving hot and sexy vampire now.

you delicately pat a glitter bomb compact over your skin, letting the soft shimmer catch the light on your collarbones and shoulders. it's a fine balance, you think, but you know there's a fine line between 'faintly glittered-up' and looking like 'fenty beauty just projectile-vomited rosé rave' all over you.

"suguru!" you call out, expecting a snarky reply but hearing nothing. typical. "suguru!" you yell again, just because you can. you wander out of the bedroom, only to find him already in position: stretched across the couch, legs draped lazily over the armrest.

and fuck, he looks good. wearing those wide-legged pants you suggested, and obviously, you were right about them. a crisp white top with the sleeves rolled up just enough to show off his forearms. geto's hair is pulled back into that high, slightly messy knot he's so fond of, but a rogue and choppy strand has escaped, brushing against his cheek.

the whole look screams 'effortlessly hot' and you can imagine how smug he'd be if he knew what you were thinking.

"oh. hey, love," he greets casually, scrolling through his phone and still draped over the couch like a catalog model who knows all his angles. but then geto looks up, and the phone nearly slips out of his hand.

"uhhh, hey," he says, his eyes widening as he takes you in, and his rosewood lips part, as he says it again, clearly dumbfounded, "hey."

you laugh, crouching down next to him, amused by the way he's visibly short-circuiting, "not bad yourself," you tease, "what were you looking at?"

before he can stop you, you lean in to peak at geto's phone, pressing yourself against his side. glitter from your collarbones transfers onto his skin, but you're too busy laughing at his dimly lit screen to notice.

"suguru!" you gasp, your shoulders beginning to tremor, "fuckass yahoo answers, of all places. wait — i can't believe people still use that. stop moving your phone, let me read!"

is it good or bad if my girlfriend says i have a gyatt?

geto's ears turn deliciously red, and he locks his phone with an exaggerated click, "okay. nosy mcgee," and he's grumbling, "makin' me sound like a loser."

you pat his cheek lightly, grinning like a cheshire cat, "it means i think you're scrumptious," you say with mock seriousness, "like top-tier snackish. like, as in, i like your ass."

geto huffs, his lips twitching despite himself. and then, leaning forward, he presses a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. you wrinkle it instinctively, thinking of all the concealer and powder you had layered earlier.

"well," he says, as he brushes a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear, "i think you're pretty too."

you sigh dramatically, "just pretty? why did i end up with a nonchalant man?"

geto gasps, his mauve eyes widening in mock offence as he juts his lip forward, "hah, 'scuse me. i'm not nonchalant. i'm like the total opposite of nonchalant. i'm like...chalant."

you snort, catching his stray fingers as they linger close enough to your lips for you to playfully nip at them, "yes. you are. my very chalant boyfriend. what a hero."

geto rolls over to his side, so he's facing you. absolutely wrinkling his white shirt, "thank you for recognising my efforts."

but then his tone shifts, his gaze running over you, "but seriously, you look hot. like crazy hot. like wow, my girlfriend is insanely hot," and he leans in slightly, "and i jus' can't stop looking at your two, beautiful, perfect..."

it hits you that his gaze has dropped to the swell of your chest.

"suguru! my eyes are up here, you dog."

"shit, been caught." and he's still laughing at your grumbles, grabbing your wrist and gently pulling you up in one swift motion, dragging you alongside him towards the bedroom.

"hey!" you protest half-heartedly, trying to dig your heels into the carpet, "the front door's the other way, genius. we're gon' be late."

geto doesn't stop his stride, glancing back at you with a pleading look that's also smug at the same time, "yeah, but you're the one who looks like that. don't think i can function. i need a minute."

"geto suguru, everybody. one-minute wonder. all he needs to finish."

you hear your boyfriend's scoff, as a teasing laugh escapes him, "hah, can't help being like this, can ya? got a gold medal when it comes to pissing me off."

you smile sweetly, "it's because i love you."

geto rolls his rich-plum eyes, his hand guiding you towards the bed as he shakes his head, "you know i love you too, right?"

"duh."

"good," geto says, and with that, he's leaning in. pressing a hot kiss to your jaw, then moving to your waiting mouth. it's messy, sloppy, the kind that makes your pussy clench a bit. sue you, eh? it's just the effect that geto suguru has on you.

you let out a soft whine as his tongue smears across your satin-finished, ruby lips, perfectly lined not ten minutes ago. but then geto's pulling away, circling his finger lazily in the air. a wordless demand that leaves your thighs clenching in anticipation.

you playfully huff, but spin yourself away from him. planting yourself on all fours, hearing geto grunt as he seems to appreciate the view. tsk, your predictable, eager boyfriend.

his large hand is running slowly down your spine, like he's savouring the way the satin clings to you. it's sending shivers down your body, and you're certain that if geto were to push your dress up and cup your core with a large hand, he'd pull it away wet and dripping.

"ah, pretty. so pretty, aren'tcha?" and his fingers are tugging taut at the ruched dress, like he can't quite believe you're real and his. despite three smooth years of professing your love to one another.

"suguru," you protest, "y'know 's not a cheap dress, babe."

you can hear the amusement tinging his smooth voice, "i know. i bought it, remember? don't want you worryin' your pretty lil' head over it."

you let out a soft sigh as you feel him entirely lean his weight over you, enveloping you in that heady scent of leather and cardamom. scooting your ass back, so tight satin would faintly drag across his very pronounced erection.

"f-fuck," and geto's laugh is sharp, disbelieving. half a huff, and half a chuckle, but entirely in awe. broad, warm hands are gliding over you before the gentle press of his palms come to rest on your hips. he's sliding your dress up, letting satin rustle with a soft, whispering sound. leaving your skin exposed to the sudden and sharp kiss of the christmas air.

"wow," geto whistles quietly, appreciatively. he seemed to be enjoying the sheer red thigh-high tights that clung to the plush of your thighs like a second scarlet skin, and you gasp as he hooks a long finger underneath the lace border, snapping it once briefly in a mild sting.

his hands are so close to where you need them most, and it's so utterly infuriating. he's practically dancing his finger tips over your inner thighs, ghosting so close to your underwear. panties that were surely languid, weighty by now. you could feel the damp cotton growing far more slippery and tacky as geto suddenly ran a finger over your clothed cunt.

and you can hear the elation in his voice as he lifts a finger up to his mouth, swirling his tongue around your syrupy taste, "hah, you're practically a super-soaker. that's pretty cool."

you scowl, fighting the urge to swivel around and pounce him in retribution, "y-yeah, thanks," but the bite in your words is tempered by the lazy heat that coils in your stomach, "but you're taking too l-long, baby. can't you jus' -"

and you're deciding to take matters into your own hands, as geto seems fascinated by how thin, clear strands create small bridges between his fingers. you reach for the waistband of his high-waisted pants, running your own hand down his absurdly slender waist, right over a godly chiselled torso.

"y'got impatient, didn't you, love?" and now geto's scowling, hauling your wrist back to pin it behind your back like you foretold. but not before planting a soft press of lips to your inner arm, gentle and tender.

but you flex your fingers behind your back, stretching them out, groping at the air. your boyfriend must have noticed, almost immediately because of course he does, and you can hear a soft, knowing coo from behind you.

"ah, 's what you want, right?" he teases, sliding his cool, slender fingers over yours, intertwining them effortlessly, "just wanted me holdin' your hand, how cute."

"maybe i was j-just stretching," you huff, but squeezing his hand tighter.

geto hums, unconvinced, as his thumb brushes lazily over the back of your hand, and you can hear the sound of fabric rustling behind you, "sure. totally not begging me to hold your hand like some lovesick, little dove."

but any retort falls away from your tongue, right when you feel something heavy, and hot smack against your tailbone, leaving a faint, moist kiss that feels cold when it patters off, "now pay attention."

you muffle a small, desparate whine, as geto has one hand tangled with yours and the other being used to hold and smack his thick cock once more over the base of your spine, "hope s-she's ready f' me now."

you feel as though all the air has been utterly pushed out of you, just from geto practically splitting you in two. you don't even have to look at geto to know that he's absolutely wrecked already, just from the throbbing, curved tip of his cock pushing past your tight walls, snagging with only the mildest resistance.

you can almost see it in your mind's eye, picturing it all just from his low curses and gasp.

how his chin must have tucked low enough to kiss his sternum, feathery strands of hair spilling over his forehead. those inky lashes fluttering in disbelief and surrender over hazy mauve eyes.

"s-she's always so eager to take me," geto croons, and his eyes are practically glued to the way your puffy folds bulge and drool over his shaft slowly feeding inches into you, "almost there, love."

"look at, hah, t-that," your boyfriend drawls, but you can hear how entirely undone he is, that tremour cutting off the end of his words in a sharp gasp as you arch yourself into him, letting that stretch take you so deliciously.

"keep your back arched like that, love," geto murmurs, and his hands are guiding you, pulling your hips back in a gentle, rhythmic push-and-pull over his cock. leaving you to feel his girthy shaft rummage and jostle around your insides, leaving a hefty divot at the edge of your cervix in a way that has you suddenly keening out a faint moan, "doing s-so well for me."

and fuck, the sound of his groin smacking wet kisses against your ass has you feeling like your head was going to explode, and your heart was going to give out, pressing right up into your throats. but you can tell geto is pleased, ruined even as he slowly drags his cock out of you at a filthy, slow pace.

if only to make you feel every throbbing vein on him, and how it imprints on your gummy walls.

there's something just so right about him being in you like this, having his pretty love bent over and absolutely stuffed full of his cock, something that just makes sense.

and right now, nothing else in the world matters save for you, and geto can't bring himself to even care about deadlines, or a decent and sensible christmas dinner, or some stupid party. not when he's letting his weighty, drooling tip loll out of your folds.

thick and heavy like a heated rod in the cool air of the evening, as he pushes two long fingers to spread open your syrupy folds, running the angry-red tip over your gloss, before finally pushing himself back inside.

"i w-was gonna say it was this dress, love," geto stammers, swirling his hips around, trying to rustle right into you, "but i think it's just you. ya know w-what you do to me right, hah, don'tcha, pretty?"

oh you are more than aware. and that heightened sense of perception is only exacerbated by how the thick curve of his cock is bruising into you. slamming into you with a heavy smack!

geto's world tilts, leaving him teetering on the edge of an embarrassingly early orgasm. but he feels little shame, not when his head is so heavy and his lips sting, caught under the desparate press of his teeth. every shallow breath he takes feeling like it's just unravelling him further, circling the tips of his fingers over your clit, just so you can whine and arch yourself into him more.

geto decides to play that card more, wrapping a thick arm around you to pull you into the air slightly. that faint increase in angle making you buckle as his weeping tip pulls symphonies of thick, angry squelches from your sensitive cunt. each jostle of his sharp, staccato hips feeling more and more shaky.

"not too much, r-right?" geto's breath hitching in uneven bursts, caught somewhere between delirious laughter and incredulous, overstimulated sobs.

that sweet, and unsteady wheeze results in tears pricking at geto's eyes from the delicious heat of your pussy, falling over the feverish nape of your neck, "know you wanted to go o-out, wanted to wear this pretty dress but i think 'm gonna d-die if i stop now, 's okay with you, yeah?"

"not t-too much, suguru," you hiss, feeling crystalline tears pool in your own lashes, just from pure please, "f-fuck, 'm already so close."

and you truly are, he's drilling himself into you at a beastly place, jostling a large hand over your chest, brushing over the lace lining the corset bodice, as if he's desparate to get his hands into your dress, to brush his thumbs over sensitive nipples.

his cock leaving searing trails of precum against your drooling, fluttering walls, leaving behind a wet trail that almost burned you. the force of his crashing hips leaving stamps in their wake, and geto's gasping and groaning at the faint cling of your dewy pussy, snatching him in quick, forceful bursts.

you shuffle precariously, still jostled against him, as you push down the bodice of your dress. probably damaging the framework a bit, but it's so worth it to hear geto almost sigh in relief, letting his hands run over the fat of your tits. pinching, swirling his fingers over the soft skin.

geto thinks he might just collapse over you in a weak heap when he hears your whine, "wan' more, s-suguru."

yes, more. that's exactly what geto wants to give you. he wants to see you milk him dry from the heavy balls swinging against your skin, wants to see you heave breaths of air as his seed drips out of you. wants to have you pressed against him for hours on end, to flip you over so your ankle lock behind his neck.

his imagination must have been working overtime. for like the peak specimen of male virility that he is, geto suguru just ends up cumming instead.

and with an embarrassing, heady grunt from him, geto's pulling his pulsating cock out of your folds, doing his best to keep himself steady enough to use his other hand well.

to keep running his fingers in tight circles around your clit, while he lets his spurting cock pump load after load of translucent, white fluid paint your spine a pretty pearly sheen. coming right on you.

it's so messy, it's so filthy and geto feels mildly numb as he decides to push his still throbbing cock, one that is still spurting right back into you, as he pushes his weight onto you, taking care not to force you too harshly against the crumpled sheets.

and geto just can't help himself, can't stop himself from leaving sloppy, wet kisses to the back of your neck, to your cheek. can't help himself from tilting your face back so his mouth can meet yours, and he can taste that raspberry syrup from earlier on your tongue, sweet and tangy.

and geto doesn't even care that he sounds ruined, raw and brittle. absolutely tattered as he whines, "we d-don't have to go to that party, right? hnngh, jus' need to hear you say that we don't have to, i think 'm gonna need some more of her. milking me so w-well."

he doesn't hear much apart from your gasps, your short cries like a mantra of "ah, ah! suguru!"

you weren't even sure how much time had passed, an hour even. or more. and you vaguely wondered if your friends were still there. sitting at some christmas party in some luxury condo, whispering over flutes of champagne, wondering about where you were. unaware that your adonis-esque boyfriend had been pounding himself into you, stretching you out over his cock until you were seeing heavenly stars.

until you were feeling thick ropes of white paint your insides once more, and streaks of dark dimmed your vision, and mauve and violet flashed behind your eyes.

you're tugging at the hem of your dress, still laughing fondly as you watch geto. his tousled, choppy hair falling out of its knot, and his eyes half-lidded and blissed out. his crumpled white top clings to his lean frame, and he's propped up lazily against the headboard with his other thick arm slung back behind his head.

"give me another hour, and we can do it again, love," geto huffs, his voice still a little raspy from earlier.

you shake your head in amusement, despite the mildly uncomfortable feeling of slick sticking beneath your thighs, splattered over your beautiful dress, "mhm, what a nice way to spend christmas, huh?"

geto stares at you adoringly, and his eyes are heavy with contentment, like he can't quite believe that you're here, and for a second, you think maybe the world would stop right there, in this perfect moment.

he runs a thumb over your face, pressing down on your lower lip, "i think it's better than some party," and geto's tone is dreamy, lazy, "no offence to your friend."

you snicker, thinking about whether you're going to need some well-thought excuse for your dear friend. or whether you're going to spill the whole truth for her.

but just as you're about to pull geto's plush mouth into another lazy kiss, his brow furrows. a sudden, concerned shift in his expression.

"hey," your boyfriend mutters, reaching to find his phone, "what's the humidity like tonight?"

you blink, caught off guard, "humidity? what's it matter?"

well, your skin feels unusually sticky, like the air itself is clinging to your sweat-dampened skin. despite the cool air of the december night. and there's that sweet, pleasant tiredness settling into your bones.

geto's suddenly sitting up, his eyes wide with realisation, "wait, love. fuck," he's muttering, scrambling up to his feet, "the kitchen!"

before you can process what's happening, he's racing for the door, and you stare at the empty spot on the rumpled sheets where your broad boyfriend was sitting not ten seconds ago.

"what is wrong with that man?" you murmur, but you hear a panicked cry from the kitchen, something about that damned pavlova going limp and soft with the heating on.

you bite back a small comment about something else going limp and soft, deciding to save that one for later when he's back in bed.

[melefim]

Swearing in Dead Boy Detectives: The Cat King

Overview:

14 curses total, 6 different words said in 3 episodes.

Episode 2:

Episode 4:

Episode 6: 1 Fuck, 1 Shit, 1 God

Episode 7: 4 Fuck, 1 Bitch, 3 God, 1 Pussy

Episode 8: 1 Fuck, 1 Dick

Curses Per Episode:

Episode 2: 0

Episode 4: 0

Episode 6: 3

Episode 7: 9

Episode 8: 2

Uses Per Word:

The Cat King’s favorite curse word is Fuck, which he says 6 times! After that is God, which he says 4 times.

Fuck: 6

God: 4

Shit: 1

Bitch: 1

Pussy: 1

Dick: 1

Unique Words:

The Cat King and Crystal are the only characters to say Pussy.

The Cat King, Crystal, and Twitchy Richie are the only characters to say Dick.

Percent of Total:

The Cat King swears 14 times throughout the season, which is 4.3% of all cursing in the show.

Rankings:

Who Swears the Most: The Cat King is tied for 5th with Litty, with 14 curses each.

Curse Word Variety: He is tied for 4th with Esther for swearing variety, with each using 6 different words used throughout the show.

Individual Words: The Cat King is tied with Crystal for first for their unique word usages of Pussy, and with Crystal and Twitchy Richie for Dick, with just one use of each.

Lines:

Episode 6: Oh God, the handsome face, the little kiss, bullshit astrology.

Episode 6: Do you hear me? I will stop fucking playing nice!

Episode 7: Oh god, they say that I'm a pussy.

Episode 7: Why the fuck are you here?

Episode 7: Oh God.

Episode 7: God, I am such a romantic, I hate it.

Episode 7: I don't give a fuck, OK? End of audience.

Episode 7: That was my third life, you bitch. I only get nine. Would you fuck off? Fuck!

Episode 8: So was her wayward husband. A real swinging dick.

Episode 8: Fuck me. Did you even listen to my story?

Notes:

A ‘swinging dick’ is slang for a man who ‘who exhibits bravado or machismo’ or is ‘sexually very active’.

Updates:

Added in Twitchy Richie for unique usages of the word dick.

Updated Percent of Total Swearing chart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

More Dead Boy Detectives Swearing Posts:

Masterlist

Swearing by Episode

Swearing by Character

Swearing by Word

All Swearing Posts

And if you like lists of things like I do, you can check out my other Dead Boy Detectives ones here!

When Charles’ Shirt Colors Change

George Rextrew’s Edwin comic inspo board

Full soundtrack with timestamps

Moves, Incidents, and Cases Masterlist

First pass at finding where the songs in the score are used- full post with timestamps in progress

[whumpitisthen]

Masterlist

Auden's Story masterlist

I’ve realized that finding my writing on here is like impossible so I think it’s about time i made one of these :3

There is no overarching story, so go ahead, read through the descriptions and jump into any story that interests you!

Taglist (tagged in everything I write): @morning-star-whump @whumprince @a-living-canvas

TWs for all around creepy/intimate whumpers, blood, sadistic whumpers, just a lot of Non-Sexual touching, scared bois and anything you may associate with whump honestly; each one is tagged accordingly. I do not write anything NSFW besides gore!

PLEASE CONSIDER SUPPORTING ME ON MY KO-FI IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU'RE SEEING PLS I WILL BECOME FOREVER INDEBTED TO YOU AND YOU WILL BE FREE TO TAKE MY SOUL :D ALSO I HAVE A BOOK NOW YOU CAN GET IT RIGHT HERE

Simple Pleasures, Simple Pains

Content also available in my book :)

Fireplace - broken whumpee with possibly nonhuman whumper, who lost all hope of ever escaping, kinda dark and could count as horror? i think?

Chauffeur - a rich (probably part of the mafia or sth idk) whumper that went a bit overboard with the whumping, a sleep deprieved obedient but very tired whumpee and a chauffeur that did not sign up for this

Inferior - creepy whumper having dinner with his two pets

A Dark Desire - whumper that found it necessary to give his plaything nyctophobia (make him deathly afraid of the dark) and now after having finally let him out of the Dark Room, he decides to test out how deep that fear really goes

Four - whumper changing his slightly defiant whumpee’s only interaction with him that didn’t involve him getting hurt at all into yet another game that involves making the poor thing cry

A Strange Day - whumper seemed to have experienced something that put him under the weather, and whumpee notices, deciding to try and be helpful, until whumper asks him a question he didn’t expect

Won’t you sing for me? - whumpee uses his own voice to calm himself, whumper finds out about it, uses his boytoy’s pyrophopia to make him sing for him, horror ensues :)

My host - whumper and whumpee share a body/ whumpee is posessed by whumper; sleep paralysis and creepy fondness

A nightmare that won’t let you wake - nightmare-ception, panic attack, gore, horror - all the good stuff

Mine - uhh usual pet whump with overly possessive creepy whumper, lots of choking and scared boi action bonus hair pulling vampire whump if you squint

A thorough look in the mirror - gore. talk of so much past torture. broken whumpee. whumper is toxic friend turned torturer bc he is a sadistic lil bitch and liked the sounds whumpee was making a bit too much. i swear i was on some shit writing this.

Bye-bye - captive whumpee is allowed to call caretaker as a sick game for his captor and a way to crush him more

Drown it out - poor boi has to endure the hellish screams coming from the basement, how sad :(

Instincts - little drabble about a sadistic non-human whumper asking human whumpee about this thing called 'fear'

Bloody kisses - very ewie gross intimate whumper and paranoid whumpee relaxing together......... ew... (noncon touching, noncon kissing, but no more than that)

To shatter - whumpee experiences an existential crisis while being taught (violently threatened) by whumper about the ways he can fuck him up

That damned smile  - whumpee talking about whumper's smile, and how creepy it is that its the same as it was before they turned out to be a sadistic asshole. whumper responds

Stay still - first person whump? whumpee is held at knifepoint and is panicking on the inside while trying their best to keep still

Fresh meat - poor innocent boi was kidnapped and put into a red room, awaiting his first time on the official Red Room channel :) exciting stuff!

Infatuation - some artistic whump? Big description of the agony of human by an artistic creepy whumper

Growing a heart - whumper leaves his whumpee with a friend, but turns out, said friend wasn't very trustworthy and made whumpee more scared of being left there than whumper has ever seen him

Choices - a fresh lineup of whumpees are getting ready to be auctioned, but there is one more than allowed at once, so whumper has to choose wisely between them on which to take with themself

Childhood Monster - legends say that a cruel people-eating beast hunts on the other side of the town, and everyone had to move away from there, making it a home for only the ghosts of its victims. unfortunately for our whumpee, he has a family to feed, and has run out of ways to do so. and so alone, starving himself, he ventures into that forbidden district, where he hopes to find some food for his family and return in one piece.

The Collector's Market - whumper goes to a very fancy special event, only for his peaceful time to be interrupted by a whumpee in the middle of escaping from their own whumper. Whumper on whumper violence alert 🚨 (whumper/-ee is alluded to being a teenager, minor whump)

Silent -  who loves asphyxiation? Me I do. Who loves creepy horrible little people suffocating weak little pretty men? Also me

Colleague Conflict - whumper who works in a facility made to gather information from dangerous criminals realizes that the person who leads said facility and also is a close friend of theirs enjoys this work - torturing people - a lot more than they thought

Maze - whumpee waking up in a huge labyrinth of a place and having to find a way out (bonus content in SpSp, only draft here)

One-shots:

Récamier - first person whump i wrote for a friend, vampire “therapist” whumper, first thing i ever actually wrote so be gentle :)

My Little Mortal - a lonely god and a desperate mortal meet in the rain. Power play ensues.

Anticipation - asking to be hurt, anticipation and power dynamics

Too Much - defiant whumpee breaks for the first time

Delicate - a sensitive whumpee

Drabbles:

Eat up - whumper was so kind to bring warm freshly made soup to whumpee and whumpee just wont eat it for some reason?? horrible way to treat your captor in my opinion (whipping)

Lonely... - part two of 'Instincts', this time a little different.........

They will survive - an escape attempt in the snowy forest, hunted by a cry of hounds. some eye gore and death tw.

A tiney wribte :) - little tiney dialogue of creepy whumper likening whumpee's heartbeat to purring

Have you ever cut your finger? - creepy dialogue about ruining handgore

Today Is His Special Day! - whumpee is with bad caretaker that hurts people, and a misunderstood conversation leads him to think the only reason caretaker hasn't hurt him is bc they're not yet old enough

The Crave - whumper let go of his whumpee to let them heal and now can barely control himself day to day from the overwhelming urge to hurt someone

No Longer a Lie — a story about a whumpee missing their whumper so much, that after only month of freedom, they find their way right back to that hellish prison they had escaped

Take Your Medicine — whumpee hasn't taken their medicine (force-feeding, suffocation, drugging)

To Have Nobody Else — masochistic whumpee unfortunately has the worst sadist to take care of them

Artificial guest - Whumpee wakes all alone, lost in a misty forest. Whumper is the only one around, waiting for whumpee to find their way to their mansion and ask to be let in before the storm arrives. Whumper daydreams about their Whumpee's terrible terrible future :)

Ridiculous human - Christmas whump! Monster whumper with a very unfortunate captive

“I’m thinking again...”

(prompts/ideas/evil little thoughts)

No talking, only sounds - title says it all

Messing with their sense of time - a new and better way of making your whumpee lose sense of time, and have fun doing it!

... - collection of dialogue no. 1

Holiday whump collection - collection of horrible horrible ideas of whump for the holiday times, some festive pain is always welcome

A whumpee who's whumper never hurts them - whumpee is scared and obedient, yet they aren't under threat of physical abuse. Whumper never hurts them, and they would like to keep it that way

Sadistic choice - fun little decisions you can force your poor little meow meow to make

I don't care. - just a fun little prompt :)

Signs that hurt is on the way - a collection of fun signs that whumpee can catch that tells them they are in trouble

Game idea: staring contest - make up a rule and watch your whumpee figure out desperately what it is

What do you want from me? - short dialogue prompt about a poor little meow meow doing their best

Mute whumpees - mute whumpee appreciation post

Whumper who is part of the team - being insane about whumpers as usual

Sorry — whumpee is always sorry, they are so so so sorry, they know they are the worst and they are so sorry pls don't hurt them :( <- wants nothing more than to hurt them

Drowning — drown your blorbo for me please please please please please please

Dialogue:

Unfortunate — whumpee, vulnerable, runs into a dangerous stranger. such an unlucky occurrence, whumper tells them as much

You are so little... — generally creepy whumper who happens to enjoy the height difference between them and whumpee

Memento — a very fond , possessive whumper and a probably severely traumatized and mutilated whumpee

Tiny whump:

Tiny Whump Time - a collection of tiny whump tropes

Tiny whump creepy whumper dialogue prompts - more tiney whumps

Tiny pet whump prompts - and even more tiny whumps

Art:

A piece with a bruised neck i made :)

Cat boi in pain :)

Knife to the lips ouch :)

A space demon :)

Miscellanious:

Whatever this is - me thinking about Neck Whump™ in the middle of the night half asleep that a lot of people seem to enjoy for some reason

Wouldn't you? - i think watching a pretty boi crying on my floor is about as good as life could get......... dont you?? im normal i swear

 (Profile pic was made with this incredible picrew)

[maxwell-grant]

I was gonna put the Spy Kids quote here but then I’d probably get an ask if they or Sharkboy & Lavagirl are pulp heroes. 

Okay, jokes aside I can’t put it into words just how much I appreciate the feedback and reception I get from you guys, never in a million years did I think I would ever get the notes I get or the amount of asks I receive. I can’t believe I’m nearing 200 followers as is, that’s insane to me. I am eternally grateful that this place lets me finally put out my essays somewhere people will read them and that you guys actually humor my ramblings, and frankly I don’t think I’m ever going to find an outlet like this elsewhere. Please don’t hesitate to send questions.

But I’m gonna have to start rapid firing a couple of those 50 questions so they don’t pile up more, and for these “Is X a Pulp Hero”, I’m gonna start off by pointing that I made a chart specifically to address this question, to try and at least give the cat I let out of the bag a structure to work with so it doesn’t destroy the furniture (not that it ever stopped my cat). Although again, the chart is just a basic attempt to put this on working order, sometimes it really is just a particular vibe that a character or property gives off. 

Anyhow, on a case by case basis:

Santa Claus: Not a pulp hero, waaay older than those, but has appeared in pulp stories (I mean, it’s Santa). There have been pulp stories that featured Santa, there’s a murderous Santa Claus in the canadian pulp Guy Vercheres, the Jimmieboy short stories had him meet Santa, and The Shadow’s killed at least one criminal dressed like Santa as well as posed for a holiday picture with the real one in Edd Cartier’s final drawing before he passed away, which is as official as a crossover could possibly get.

Samurai Jack: Maybe. The most directly pulp thing Genndy Tartakosvky’s done yet is Primal, that is just 100% cartoon pulp, the Conan/Lost World stuff bleeds through the screen. Samurai Jack is kinda near that ballpark but that’s because Samurai Jack has a zillion influences and pop culture references, most of it seems taken straight from comics.  Pulp stuff is in there but that’s because pulps run in the blood of everything, and it doesn’t make everything pulp. The whole premise of Samurai Jack is designed for the contrast between an old-fashioned samurai coming to face and adapting to whatever wacky future nonsense and pop culture archetypes Aku’s throwing at him that week because that’s what they felt like doing for the episode. There’s gangsters and Lupin and Star Wars and historical fantasy and robot violence and...shit, it really is pulp, come to think of it. Still not gonna say a definitive Yes to Jack being a Pulp Hero but the vibe is definitely there and maybe that’s all that really counts.

The Belmonts: Maybe. There’s definitely Simon, because Simon is Conan. Julius Belmont also gives off a strong old-school adventurer vibe. The others are a lot more distant but they are definitely a lot closer to that ballpark than most videogame heroes, characters like Richter and Alucard wouldn’t look that out of place fighting monsters next to The Spider or Elric. Again, there’s not many actual connections to pulp properties or periods, but the whole point of Castlevania is that you get to cartwheel through graveyards and whip your way through exploding skeletons and Frankensteins so you can give Dracula a wedgie. So I’m gonna actually say a Yes to this one. 

Scrooge McDuck: Yes. He’s in the chart already, and really I probably could have placed him in the True Neutral section considering Scrooge was created in the 1900s-1950s time period and was pretty explicitly modeled after a pulp magazine kind of adventurer. 

The Joestars: No. I don’t consider Joseph a Pulp Hero in the first place, it’s really more Battle Tendency having an Indiana Jones globetrotting vibe than Joseph himself, I put the characters in the Radical Pulp Anarchy section as extreme examples to show how far you can conceivably stretch the term based on superficial connections. But I don’t get neither much of a pulp vibe from any of the Jojo parts besides Part 2, and pulp material has never been within Araki’s influences, and I obsessively catalogued all of them in my Jojo phase. You could maybe make an argument for Jonathan since he’s the old-school adventurer of the bunch, and maybe Jotaro since he’s both the wandering warrior type as well as Clint Eastwood in a school uniform, but at this point you gotta separate what’s “genre” and what’s “pulp”, and they can intersect without being the same thing. 

Fast and the Furious: No. Pretty hard no, actually. I don’t think there’s even much of an argument there other than I guess they both have a reputation for being trashy low-class entertainment, but that kinda goes for way too many things to ever be placed under an umbrella term. The terms “high class” and “low class” don’t even really see much usage anymore in media discussion, they died and it’s a good thing we killed them.

Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys: The Stratemeyer Syndicate was pretty specifically centered around hardback publications of juvenile adventure series, which means they could not be considered pulp characters in their time despite being from the 1930s, and in fact were pretty specifically defined as being the opposite of the pulp publishers of the period. Still, that distinction hardly matters much once people started talking about serial and radio and comic characters as pulp heroes, and currently a lot of what it takes for a character to be considered a pulp hero is just being from any kind of 1930s fiction. I wouldn’t include them in any listings but, you do you.

Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction: I mean, it’s kinda the big thing you get when you even look up the terms “pulp” or “pulp fiction”, by sheer osmosis it’s replaced the things those terms were created to define in pop culture popularity. It’s been forever since I watched it and I don’t particularly have any interest in watching any Tarantino movie, but I guess the fact that this is a movie with several different stories interconnected on crime drama and doomed love affairs and philosophical hogwash and bantering men of action is very much structured like a typical pulp magazine, which usually consisted on an anthology format that I suspect is what the movie may have been homaging. Either that, or it’s just named Pulp Fiction because it’s sleazy and gorey and shamelessly excessive and those are terms that are very much associated with the pulps, for better or worse. 

[snkpolls]

SnK Episode 61 Poll Results (for Anime Only Watchers)

The poll closed with 164 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated!

Please note that these are the results for the Anime Only Watchers’ poll. If you wish to see the results for the Manga Readers’ poll, click here.

Anime only watchers, beware of spoilers if you venture over to the manga readers’ poll results.

---

RATE THE EPISODE 142 Responses

Episode 61 received even better reception than episode 60 did for anime only viewers, with all votes leaning 3-5 on the rating scale, none of our respondents seemed let down by the episode! 

AMAZING!! not action heavy this time, but the information i gained  was a big insight on what’s to come! lots of things are gonna go down and i’m s c a r e d. ready for next sunday 😈🔥

It was fire 

I really loved this episode, better than the last episode. Animation quality was on par with movie quality. MAPPA is giving us their best, ALL HAIL MAPPA.

1 word. Awesome

I love the pacing on this episode and the small details in it. 

Give me more!!!

bruh

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING WAS YOUR FAVORITE SCENE/MOMENT? 142 Responses

Reiner monologuing about the 104th at the dinner table took front and center seat this week with 43% of viewers favoring this scene the most. Trailing behind, 16.9% enjoyed the scene where Reiner meets up with the Warrior Cadets, and 9.9% enjoyed seeing the human forms of the Cart and Jaw titans for the first time.

WE FORGOT TO ASK LAST WEEK D: WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES/MOMENTS FROM EPISODE 60 WAS YOUR FAVORITE? 142 Responses

Last week, the highest percentage of people (at 30.3%) enjoyed Reiner’s, “I’m sick and tired… of walls.” 19% favored the scene of Zeke’s scream turning Eldians into titans. 17.6% were most hyped up over Reiner and Galliard wrecking Fort Slava.

MAPPA WENT ALL OUT WITH THE CINEMATOGRAPHY IN THIS EPISODE. WHAT DID YOU THINK OF THE CINEMATIC PANS AND ROTOSCOPE ANIMATION? 142 Responses

Overall, 75.4% of the total vote went in favor of the animation this week, with 33.8% of viewers stating they felt as though they were watching a movie, 32.4% enjoying the fluidity, and 9.2% enjoying the upgrade from the stiffer animation in the previous season. 10.6% felt the rotoscoping and cinematic shots were a little too over the top for an anime, and 10.6% are indifferent. A small handful aren’t enjoying the cinematic animation at all. 

Hated the rotoscope, loved everything else.

It was a bit off-putting at first but I've grown to really like it

it was different but i liked it! it was cool. reminded me of some anime movies i’ve seen, though unique in it own sense

Thought it was great and fluid just at some points like the scene with udo on the docks felt a bit choppy.

Beautiful work, it honestly felt like I was watching a movie. From cinematography to shot framing to the animation. A dialogue heavy episode felt exciting, which is amazing.

I really liked the animation

The animation is so glowy

NOW THAT WE’VE GOTTEN TO HEAR A LITTLE MORE OF THE NEW OST TRACKS, HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE SOUNDTRACK SO FAR THIS SEASON? 142 Responses

People are overall enjoying the new music so far, with 41.5% feeling it really compliments the change in atmosphere and 35.9% REALLY enjoying the songs and finding their usage very good. 9.9% feel they’re just ok while 7.7% miss the music being composed solely by Sawano. A smaller handful aren’t enjoying the new music.

They DEFINITELY bring the right vibes lol. again, different, but i like it!

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE CLOSEUP OF ZEKE’S MOUTH? 141 Responses

In our first of a series of unnecessary crack questions, 31.9% find Zeke’s mouth closeup to have been pretty cool animation. 24.8% are very concerned about Zeke’s treatment of his lungs (do shifters get lung damage?). 20.6% didn’t care about Zeke’s mouth at aoo, while 14.2% would welcome a smooch from him. A handful of people just think it’s gross, lol.

Fucking hate zeke smh 🙄

He smokin a spliffy 😂 not no ciggy 

what chapstick using??lmao.  it was a cool scene

WHAT’S YOUR OPINION ABOUT ELDIAN ASSES? 140 Responses

Eldian asses didn’t turn out to be too controversial, with the majority (42.1%) just wanting to know the details of Zeke’s secret ass wiping technique. 10.7% just think Eldian asses are neat, and another 10% are more enthusiastic about some nice Eldian asses. 25.7% are confused about the question’s inclusion, and 11.4% don’t understand why this was asked at all.

DO YOU WANT REINER TO GIVE YOU A HEAD PAT? 140 Responses

In a close race, 42.1% of respondents would be thrilled to get a nice head pat from Reiner! 41.4% apparently don’t, and just wanna know what the heck the pollsters are smoking while writing up these questions. 11.4% do NOT want Reiner head pats. :(

ZEKE SEEMS TO BE KEEPING HIS ROYAL LINEAGE A SECRET FROM MARLEY DESPITE HIS LOYALTY TO THEM. ANY IDEAS WHY YOU THINK HE IS? 139 Responses

Zeke, the “wonderboy” (as General Calvi puts it) who sold out his own parents, has never been doubted by Marley in terms of his loyalty. Yet, for some reason he seems to be keeping his royal bloodline a secret from them. When we asked why that is, over half of respondents (56.1%) state that they are suspicious of Zeke and his real motives, believing that he is plotting something under Marley’s nose. 25.2% feel that he doesn’t want them to know he’s royal so that they can’t abuse his power, and 12.9% think he simply doesn’t let them know so that they won’t kill him. 

I forgot he was royal 

maybe they will force him to continue the bloodline through children, or maybe he will get used or killed

Well if they dont know hes got a hereditary advantage over both his predeccesors and succesors, he'll always be recognised as the best beast titan and heaps better than my boy Colt.

WE LEARNED IN THIS EPISODE THAT FALCO’S LAST NAME IS “GRICE.” DO YOU THINK THIS WILL HOLD ANY SIGNIFICANCE? 139 Responses

32.4% of respondents don’t remember anyone named Grice. To recap, “Grice” is the name of the person who recruited Grisha Yeager into the Restorationist group, and is the one who was kicked off the wall for the restorationist titans to chase after once they were transformed by Marley. For those that did remember this seemingly random person, 52.2% feel that this relation will be brought up again and have importance to the story, and 12.9% feel it doesn’t really mean anything other than being a neat little detail. 

I feel like you asking this implies that there’s something to it

Not sure yet. But, Falco and Colt seem to be really caring and aware of how the Marlyeans treat Marly-Eldians (at least compared to the other warrior candidates). Also, when we saw their parents they seemed kind too, showing lots of concern for Colt. Maybe they learnt what the former restorationist/other Grice was doing and his cause of death and sent their kids to the warrior program for the same reason Grisha and Dina did Zeke? My bet is Colt & Falco are the restorationist Grice's nephews?

YOUR REACTION TO THE CART TITAN BEING A CUTE WOMAN? 140 Responses

Pieck deserves a colorful pie chart, and she got one! 25.7% say she’s best girl, 22.9% think she’s utterly adorable. 13.6% of viewers already knew about Pieck before getting to this point and were unsurprised. At a tie, 11.4% of voters think that it’s amazing, or they were shocked to find out that the quadrupedal nightmare titan is really just a short, cute woman.

I worked it out last episode since the armbands appeared to indicate the 'type/status' of Eldians, but I was a bit surprised last episode I thought from the trailer the red bands may be special lineages i.e. Ackerman, Oriental clan, and Riess/Fritz. Still think she may be from the oriental clan though since the only characters we've seen with a similar appearance to her are Mikasa and her mother.  

she kinda shawty 👀 but she looks scary too

WE WERE FORMALLY INTRODUCED TO MORE CHARACTERS THIS WEEK, SO WE WILL ASK AGAIN… WHICH NEW CHARACTER IS YOUR FAVORITE SO FAR? 143 Responses

Last week, Falco was the most favored of the new cast with only 40% of the vote. This week, he shoots up over 10 percentage points, with 50.3% of viewers feeling the most positively toward him. Pieck comes in second with 17.5% of the vote, and Gabi is hanging on with just 12.6% of the vote. Colt and Galliard are trailing just a little bit more behind them. 

Gabi best girl

WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON THE FATE OF YMIR? 144 Responses

While we did get teased about Ymir’s fate in Season 3, seeing the scene in full can definitely have more of an impact. 37.5% of respondents have accepted the notion of Ymir dying, and feel that it was a decent end for her character, all things considered. 22.9% are in complete and total anguish over her fate, and 20.1% are simply just disappointed and had hoped to see more of her. A very small percentage think that this is actually a red herring, and that Ymir is somehow still alive somewhere.

Already saw this in season 3

Appropriately grim and realistic given what lengths Marley will go to in order to protect themselves 

I am in so much pain please euthanize me that’s my wife

i didn’t really like her anyway so it’s fine(but it was still a bit sad) 

Kinda hate crimey considering shes the only OUT (@jean) charcter. Nah jk. Like wasnt shocked tho coz we saw Galliard last ep

Let's fucking GOOOOOO

Galliard will NEVER replace Ymir, I already hate his bitch ass

So Galliard really is a replacement scrappy eh? I already hate him JUST for that.

TURNS OUT THAT GALLIARD IS MARCEL’S BROTHER. DO YOU THINK THIS WILL BE SIGNIFICANT? 143 Responses

Over half of respondents (52.4%) believe that Galliard’s relation to Marcel will have significance at some point. 32.9% think that it might, but don’t want to say either way. A small percentage feel it’s just a detail that won’t matter. 12.6% have completely forgotten who Marcel is (to refresh your memory, Ymir ate him before RBA attacked the walls).

DO YOU THINK THE MAN WEARING THE ARMBAND INCORRECTLY WILL BE IMPORTANT? 144 Responses

At 73.6%, the majority of viewers are eyeing the random amputee soldier who Falco briefly helped out, believing that he will be important in some manner moving forward. 13.9% believe that it’s just a random soldier, and the scene maybe meant more in terms of showing Falco’s kindness. 12.5% aren’t sure what to make of the amputee soldier at all.

LAST WEEK, WHEN ASKED WHO WILL INHERIT THE ARMORED TITAN, THE MAJORITY PICKED FALCO. AFTER THIS EPISODE, WHO DO YOU THINK WILL INHERIT THE ARMORED TITAN NOW? 143 Responses

Falco is still the most favored to inherit the Armored Titan from Reiner with the percentage of people believing he will jumping from 37.6% to 48.3%. 21.7% are still confident that Gabi will ultimately be the one who gets to eat Reiner. 28.7% believe that neither of them will inherit Reiner’s titan at all.

DO YOU THINK THAT REINER REALLY BELIEVES THE PARADISIANS ARE DEVILS? 143 Responses

The overwhelming majority of respondents don’t believe that Reiner really means what he says when he calls the Paradisians “savage, heartless devils.” Only a small percentage feel he does really means what he says, and a handful of others aren’t sure.

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT REINER WITH WHAT WE’VE SEEN IN THIS ARC SO FAR? 143 Responses

The majority of viewers feel very positively about Reiner and are enjoying seeing more of him, with 46.2% stating that Reiner is really starting to grow on them, while 26.6% already liked Reiner from the start. 18.2% are beginning to feel more empathy for Reiner, although they still aren’t huge fans, and a smaller percentage don’t like him and haven’t been swayed by the narrative as of yet. 

Always seemed like there was lots to him, enjoying the furthered development into his psyche :) 

he’s so hot omg. i feel so terrible cause he’s clearly suffering from ptsd and his disorder too. he seems torn. i do like how he is playing a major role so far. 

I’m in love with Reiner and always have been

Meh

Reiner became 1000% hotter after his life fell apart

REINER AND GABI ARE REVEALED TO BE COUSINS. THOUGHTS? 142 Responses

36.6% of respondents were genuinely shocked to learn that Gabi and Reiner are cousins. 21.8% feel more invested in Gabi’s character arc after knowing this information. 19% were already spoiled on this, and 15.5% don’t really care about it at all. 

Kinda thought she wanted to fuck her cousin lmao

Makes me horrified how casually they talk abt eating Reiner

They had the same last name so I figured they must have had some relation.

Yee haw

GABI QUESTIONS REINER AFTER HE TALKED ABOUT THE 104TH, ASKING IF PEOPLE ON PARADIS WERE ALL BAD. DO YOU THINK SHE CAN OVERCOME HER BRAINWASHING TO SEE THAT PARADISIANS AREN’T EVIL? 143 Responses

The majority think that there is a possibility for Gabi to see things from a new perspective over time. 40.6% aren’t completely sold on it yet, but also believe that it’s within the realm of possibility. 32.9% are very confident that this is the direction her story arc is going to take, and 26.6% think that nothing will be able to undo years of brainwashing for her.

THE TYBURS ARE SAID TO BE AN AFFLUENT FAMILY THAT HOLDS THE WARHAMMER TITAN, BUT HAVE NEVER BEEN INVOLVED IN ANY CONFLICT. WHY WOULD THEY WANT TO GET INVOLVED NOW? 139 Responses

While we still don’t know much about the Tybur family, we thought we’d check in and see what preconceived notions viewers may already have about them. 27.3% believe the Tybur family feel the same as Marley and see Paradis as a threat. 30.2% think that the only reason they’d want to get involved in the conflict is if they get something about it. 41.7% think that the Tyburs are super sus and ultimately will have their own agenda for attacking Paradis. 

They got the good life already, why battle?

WITH AN ATTACK ON PARADIS BEING IMMINENT, HOW DO YOU THINK REINER WILL REACT WHEN HE RETURNS TO THE ISLAND? 139 Responses

We’ve seen Reiner struggle over the weight of his sins in previous seasons, with Ymir even pointing out that he has developed a type of “split personality” to cope with the horror he forced onto the people of Paradis. With the prospect of returning to the island, we asked how you think Reiner will handle the situation. With the highest percentage, 32.4% of respondents feel that Reiner’s mental state will make him completely ineffective if he returns to Paradis. 28.8% think he may even completely switch back to his “soldier persona” once he faces his former comrades again. 26.6% believe that he will keep himself together and stay focused on the mission handed to him. 9.4% think he will find a way to avoid going back altogether. 

Honestly, don't know.

I wouldnt say ineffective, probably just ina daze of sorts. Like hes not fully in the moment.

Idk if he is even gonna go

Not Sure

I hope my boi Reiner makes it through!

REINER FLASHBACKS NEXT WEEK! ARE YOU EXCITED TO FINALLY GET THE WARRIORS’ BACKSTORY? 142 Responses

The vast majority are happy to be finally getting the Warriors’ backstory in the next episode, with 69% feeling overwhelmed with excitement about it, and 19.7% just happy to finally be getting to this point. A smaller percentage don’t really care about learning their backstory and a handful of people are actually dreading it. 

I loved the baby warrior flashback and can’t wait for next week.

ON A SCALE OF REINER TO ZEKE, HOW EAGER ARE YOU TO GET BACK TO PARADIS? 141 Responses

While there is a handful of people who are enjoying the new perspective and getting to know these new characters in Marley, the majority of viewers are (unsurprisingly) eager to see what’s going on with the original cast after the 4 year time skip and the cliffhanger at the ocean in season 3. A message from manga readers: we know your pain, just hang in there!

This arc isn't really doing it for me. The story is only interesting when it focused on the 104th.

If their goal is to make me sympathize with the Warriors it ain't working, I frankly don't give a crap about their sob stories and want to see Eren and friends wreck shit for them

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODE?

Animation and graphics quality is amazing. The sea was CGI too which feels a bit too detailed compared to other things. The plot and vibe is amazing. I like the WW2 style of things. There are so many interactions coming just the thought makes me hyped up. I can easily rewatch it and notice new details and i enjoy it too. Feels really packed and intense.

Solid, loved the animation props to MAPPA, cant wait to see Reiner's character development.

Kinda just people walking around with HELLA ptsd.  Overall kinda vibey Very reminiscent of seas 3 part 1. I will say kinda tgf about these knew kids accept Colt, just wanna see the ogs and Jeans side part. I also HATE Reiner but.........dare I say.....he's growing in me???? Not gabi tho 

Great episode, the trailer's beginning to make a lot more sense now. I didn't expect that guy with the long blonde hair declaring Eren as the enemy (from the trailer) to be part of the Tybur family (maybe I'm wrong here but he looked identical to one of the Tybur family members in the photo Zeke showed.) I assumed he was maybe the Marley leader haha. I think he may be the warhammer titan but it's hard to tell at this point. Regarding the Tybur family, another curious thing is how they are celebrated internationally not just domestically for their help during the great titan war. I am curious whether Marley only treat the Tybur family well because if they didn't that would create issues globally? It seems like the Tybur's have lots of power. But, I wonder if the war hammer titan will be a letdown... I thought it would be the 'big boss' of the titans but after learning that titan doesn't go through training like the other titan shifters and never fought I feel like it's a 50/50 on whether the shifter will be strong or not... I also feel like the guy Falco spoke to was Eren, and this could hint at Eren noticing and possibly trying to indoctrinate Falco? and he was possibly watching Reiner talk to the kids? That was probably Pieck though. Curious how Pieck's father was shown but not mother, he also didn't look like he was from the oriental clan maybe we have another Mikasa on our hands (half Ackerman/Oriental clan) that would be cool, maybe a little bit fanservicey tho.

I like that the focus is on world building right now

I’m just so excited to see what’s coming next

It was friggin awesome but I’m curious on who fell off the roof 🤔

Who is the guy who jumped and died ? :(

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 138 Responses

Thank you again for participating! We’ll see you again next week!

[antiadvil]

Friends With (Tax) Benefits

summary: After same-sex marriage is legalized in the UK, Phil suggests he and Dan get married to save money on their taxes. Dan initially rejects his proposal, but after some thought, he changes his mind. Except then he starts to… feel things. Things he really shouldn’t be feeling about his best friend and platonic husband. And all of the sudden, what was supposed to be a simple arrangement between friends has the potential to get much, much more complicated.

Surely Dan can keep his feelings repressed for a little bit longer.

rating: PG-13

wc: 7.4k

notes: for the @phandomreversebang​! art provided by @artlessdynamite​ and betaing provided by @dansstripedsweater​. they were both super helpful and great to work with!

also, warnings for unhealthy alcohol usage if you’re not into that.

read under the cut or on ao3!

“Let’s get married,” Phil said.

Dan snorted. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Yeah, I heard you,” Dan said. “I just have a few questions first. Like, what the actual fuck.”

Phil shrugged. “I just mean, it makes sense. It’s legal now. We live together and will for the foreseeable future. We have a lot of joint assets. We’d save a lot on taxes.”

Dan stared. “You want to get married. For tax purposes.”

Phil shrugged, cheeks pinkening.

Dan shook his head in disbelief.

“No pressure,” Phil said. “It was just an idea.”

“It was a dumb idea,” Dan snorted.

It was a dumb idea. It was a really, really dumb idea. Dan couldn’t believe he was thinking about it for longer than three seconds. Dan definitely couldn’t believe he was still thinking about it that night while lying in bed.

It was such a dumb idea. Why would Phil even suggest it? Especially considering...

Dan closed his eyes. He hadn’t thought about it in years. He hadn’t had any reason to.

When Dan and Phil had first met, Dan had maybe liked Phil a little bit. And maybe he had mentioned something to Phil to that effect, and maybe Phil had gently shut him down, reminded him how much younger he was, how much less experience he had with relationships that were more than just awkward fumbling in dark rooms.

But that was years ago, and Dan was over it. He had been over it for years. It was so long ago it shouldn’t even factor into this decision. Why was he still thinking about it?

His bed did feel empty. He wondered what it would be like to have someone lying next to him, close enough to touch.

Dan shook himself. Even if he and Phil did get married, it wouldn’t have to change anything about their relationship. They would still sleep in separate beds. They would still be friends. Nothing less, and nothing more.

That thought sent a slight twinge through Dan’s heart. He resolutely ignored it, turning over to his side. He was done thinking about this. It was a bad idea, and dwelling on it wouldn’t do him any good.

***

Dan slept badly. His dreams were fragmented; the kind that vanished when you woke up and left you with a weird sense of fatigue for the rest of the day, as if you hadn’t slept at all.

He made himself coffee with his breakfast that morning, and Phil noticed. Of course Phil noticed. Phil knew Dan better than anyone in the world, maybe better even than Dan himself. Was it even possible for anyone to ever get to know Dan better than Phil already did?

“Coffee?” Phil asked, glancing at Dan’s mug. “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” Dan muttered.

Phil nodded, turning his head back to his phone, and a sudden need burned through Dan.

“Hey,” he said. “I was, um, thinking about what you said last night.”

“Oh,” Phil said, putting his phone down. He looked sheepish. “I’m sorry, you can just forget about that if-”

Dan interrupted. “What would we even tell our friends? Our families?”

Phil shrugged, carefully setting his cup of coffee down. “We could tell them the truth. If you think they could handle it.”

“What if they can’t?”

“Then we tell them something that isn’t the truth. We’ve been living together for four years, I’m sure some of them already think we’re dating.”

Dan’s face grew warm. He hesitated.

“Or we don’t have to tell them anything. It’s up to you. I don’t really care.”

Phil said it with such flippant ease that it felt like a stab to Dan’s gut. Of course he didn’t care. Why would he? It was just a business arrangement, really, just something to do for tax purposes.

“I’ll have to think about it,” Dan said.

Phil looked surprised. “Okay,” he said.

Dan thought about it again that night. He thought about how he always slept on one side of the bed, as if he was leaving the other half for another person he expected to come in in the middle of the night after a late shift at work. He thought about how the other half of his bed was going to be empty for the rest of the night.

He didn’t sleep well that night either.

***

Dan made a pro-con list the next morning. He didn’t label it at the top- that would have felt too real. He just divided it into two sides and wrote “Pro” on one side and “Con” on the other.

He tapped his pen against the paper. “Weird,” he scribbled on the Con side, quickly followed by “Can’t get real married later.”

As if that was looking likely. The last person Dan had dated was in high school, and it could not have been more of a disaster.

The Pro side was looking a bit lonely. “Taxes,” he scribbled, to humor Phil. He couldn’t help but smile a bit. Only Phil would say something like that.

Well, actually, there had to be more than that. There were all sorts of legal benefits to marriage, weren’t there? He crossed that out and added “legal benefits” instead.

The rest of the pros and cons came more quickly. In a lot of ways, they were basically married already. It would make it easier to come out in some ways. He could fend off unwanted suitors more easily. Because he got so many of those, he thought wryly.

Dan looked down at his paper. The pro side was almost full- mostly of small, stupid things, but Dan just kept thinking of small, stupid things to add.

Even if not all of the reasons for doing it were as good as the reasons for not doing it, just looking at the shape of his chart, it was clear what he wanted. He took a deep breath.

Maybe it was stupid, but it was what he wanted, for whatever godforsaken reason. What was the point in denying it? He had spent so long ignoring what he wanted. Didn’t he deserve something he wanted for once?

He crumpled the piece of paper to throw in the trash, but hesitated. He didn’t want Phil to find it. He smoothed it out, then put it at the very bottom of his dresser drawer.

There. Now it would never be seen again.

He left his room. He had to find Phil and tell him something.

Phil was in the living room this time, on his laptop, completely absorbed in a word document. Scripting, probably.

Dan hated to disturb Phil when he looked like this. He really was beautiful when he wasn’t paying attention to it- though Dan supposed it was the kind of beauty one learned to appreciate rather than the kind that was innate. The kind of beauty that only existed in people you loved.

“Hey Phil?” he asked, and Phil looked up, the illusion shattering. “I think I’m done thinking. About the thing.” He couldn’t bring himself to say it, but luckily, Phil seemed to know what he meant.

“And?”

“I want to do it.”

Phil raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

Dan nodded. “I’m sure.”

“Okay then.” Phil smiled. “Have you decided what to tell people?”

***

Dan came out to his parents on Skype, and told them he and Phil were getting married in the same conversation. It was easier that way. He didn’t have to buy a ticket home, or awkwardly stick around after he made his big revelation, acting like everything was normal.

His mother said she was proud of him and she loved him no matter what, and couldn’t wait to meet Phil again as her son-in-law. His dad didn’t say anything.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Phil asked when it was over. He had been sitting on the couch in the other room while Dan talked to his parents. Dan wasn’t sure how much he had overheard.

Dan shrugged. “My mom was fine. My dad…”

Phil’s face crumpled. “I’m sorry.” He stood up, wrapping Dan in a hug.

“It’s okay,” Dan said, trying to force his tears back. His voice still came out tight and watery. He buried his head deeper in Phil’s neck, and Phil held him tighter.

His brother was about as accepting as he expected any sixteen-year-old boy to be. When Dan called him to explain, he just kind of grunted and said he didn’t care.

Phil’s parents already knew he was gay, so all that was left was to explain was his relationship with Dan. They had decided not to explain to anyone that their marriage wasn’t really real, but Dan wasn’t sure exactly what Phil had said to his parents. Phil had asked Dan to leave the flat while he talked to them, and Dan had done so. He had a rather nice day wandering around London, and when he returned to the flat, Phil was stiff and composed, and told Dan that it went fine when he asked. Dan wasn’t sure whether or not he believed him, but he didn’t question it.

Explaining to their friends was tricky. Most of them already knew Dan and Phil were gay, and were confused about why they would hide a relationship from them for so long. Dan awkwardly fumbled explanations about the subscribers, and privacy, and the media, while Phil nodded, playing an excellent version of someone who was saying things that made sense.

They didn’t come out to their fans. Marriage was a matter of public record in the UK; they were just going to have to hope that no one actually cared enough to look.

The marriage ceremony was short and simple, nothing more than going down to the courthouse to sign some paperwork. Dan’s mum tried to get them to do some kind of ceremony, but Dan refused. That would have felt too much like a lie.

He couldn’t stop her from insisting on a visit, though, to congratulate the newlyweds.

Her train arrived on a cold, slightly rainy day- the usual in London. Still, Dan couldn’t help but take it as a sign justifying the dread growing in his stomach.

Phil had offered to come with Dan to meet his mum, but Dan had refused. He didn’t want to deal with the weirdness of pretending to be a couple that was pretending to not be a couple in public in front of his mum. It was way too many layers of weirdness to deal with. Dan would rather stick with just one.

“Mum!” he said, sweeping her into a hug. His worries lessened a bit as she hugged him back.

“Dan!” she said. “It’s been too long.”

Dan didn’t visit his family a lot. It probably had been too long. “I missed you,” he said, and it was mostly true.

She smiled, pulling back. “I missed you too.”

Dan knew she was coming alone, but he felt the absence of the rest of his family as an acute pain in his side. “Why didn’t Dad want to come?” he asked.

His mum pressed her lips into a thin line, and for a moment, Dan thought she wasn’t going to answer. “Oh, you know how busy he is,” she said lightly.

Dan nodded. “I’ll have to visit sometime,” he said.

He wouldn’t. They both knew it.

“But look at you!” His mum beamed, saving the mood. “My Daniel, all grown up. You’re married! Let me see the- Oh,” she said, looking at his hand, sounding disappointed. “No ring?”

Shit. If they were trying to pass this off as real, they probably should have gotten rings. “It didn’t make sense,” Dan explained. “Since we couldn’t wear them out anyway, with the fans and all.”

She nodded, still looking sad. “It’d be nice for you two to have something, though.”

“Maybe,” Dan said noncommittally, flagging down a taxi. He couldn’t help but think that it would be nice, but he hoped her badgering would die down once they got in the cab, or once they got back to the flat and he could talk to Phil.

Phil was so much better at lying than Dan was. He’d be able to handle this.

***

“Karen!” Phil said, sweeping her into a hug. He towered over her. Why were the two of them so tall?

“How’s my favorite son-in-law?” She hugged him back just as tightly as she had hugged Dan at the train station.

“He’s your only son-in-law,” Dan interrupted, “Unless Adrian also has some news he’d like to share?”

“Even if I had a million son-in-laws, Phil would still be my favorite,” Dan’s mum smiled.

“Aww,” Phil said.

Dan rolled his eyes. “Suck up,” he muttered.

“Where should I put my suitcase?” his mum asked.

“Oh,” Dan said. He hadn’t really thought about where she would sleep. “Um, there’s the gaming room? Or the sofa, but-”

“I thought I could just sleep in the guest room,” his mum interrupted.

Dan stared.

“Oh, come on, Dan,” his mum winked. “I know you two don’t really sleep in different rooms.”

Phil turned completely red. Dan suspected his face was a similar shade.

“Right,” Phil said, still blushing furiously. Hopefully, his mum would think it was because she had mentioned Dan and Phil’s supposed sex life and not because Phil was lying. “You can sleep in my room. Just give us a bit to set up, we completely forgot to.”

Dan wasn’t sure if it was possible to pass Phil’s incredibly messy room off as a guest room, but he supposed it’d be easier than handling the dirty laundry piled up in Dan’s closet.

Phil pulled Dan into his room after distracting Karen with the wall of pictures they had set up about six months ago, some time after her last visit.

“Change the sheets,” Phil said. “I’ll take care of-” he waved his hand at the mess. “All this.”

Dan couldn’t help but feel a bit sad as he stripped Phil’s sheets off his bed. They were so bright and colorful- Dan had always loved them. It felt wrong to put them away.

Phil managed to get most of his junk into boxes that he moved to Dan’s room while Dan’s mum was distracted. His room still looked a little bit lived in, but hopefully not excessively so.

“The room’s all ready, Mum!” Dan said.

“Finally,” she said. “You know, if my parents were visiting me-”

“Yes, mum,” Dan cut in, rolling his eyes. “You would never treat them with such disrespect. I’m a shame on the family. I deserve to be-”

“Oh, shush, Dan, you know I was only teasing.” His mum swatted his shoulder with the back of her hand.

Dan ducked away, cheeks burning. It was hard sometimes to remember that his mum was proud of him. “I know,” he said.

She hugged him. “Thank you for inviting me,” she said. “And I’m proud of you. I really am.”

“I know,” he said, and this time he even believed it a little bit.

***

“Are you ready for dinner?” Phil asked.

“I’m ready.” In an astonishing display of adulthood, Dan had called ahead to get a reservation. He had ironed a button-down shirt. He had found a suit jacket that sort of matched his pants. He had even scheduled a cab ahead of time so they wouldn’t be late.

It was exhausting. Dan didn’t know how other people did it. “You and Mum are already ready, I assume?”

“Yep,” Phil said. “The cab should be here in a few minutes.”

Dan was half expecting something to go terribly wrong, but to his surprise, they arrived at the restaurant a few minutes early, and when they entered the restaurant, a waitress ushered them straight to their table with no problems, handing them menus and setting down glasses of water and a basket of bread.

Dan turned immediately to the wine menu as Phil attacked the bread basket. He scanned the list- he didn’t really recognize anything, so he fixated in on the cheapest.

“Can we get a bottle of-” Dan started when the waitress finally came back.

Phil nudged Dan’s foot under the table. “I don’t think we need an entire bottle of wine.”

“I want an entire bottle of wine though,” Dan pouted.

His mum looked up, her brow wrinkling.

Dan bit the inside of his cheek. “I’ll just take a glass then.”

The waitress nodded, writing Dan’s order down. She took everyone else’s orders too- Dan was the only one who got any alcohol, which suddenly made him feel very self-conscious.

Luckily, it was nothing that a few refills of his wine glass couldn’t fix. Dan noticed Phil eyeing him after his second glass, but he ignored him. Dan was an adult, if he needed three glasses of wine to get through a dinner with his mum and his pretend husband, that was his business.

His mum had noticed too, Dan realized with a slight pang of guilt. He forced it down with another sip of wine.

“So,” Dan said, trying to distract her. “How’s Dad? And Adrian?”

She relaxed a bit. “Oh, they’re fine.” She filled him in on his dad’s work and Adrian’s school. Dan nodded along, doing his best to keep up. He noticed Phil doing the same out of the corner of his eye.

“But enough about me,” she said. “I feel like I’m behind on years of life updates. What have you two been up to?”

Dan looked at Phil, pleading wordlessly for him to take over.

Phil hesitated, his eyes falling on Dan’s fourth half drained glass of wine. “What do you want to know?” he finally asked, his eyes flicking back to Dan’s mum.

“Everything,” Dan’s mum said. “I don’t know anything about your relationship.”

A laugh spilled nervously from Phil’s mouth. “There’s a lot to tell.”

“Well then, not everything,” she said. “But- the basics. How you met. When you knew. How long.”

“We met the way Dan’s told you. Internet strangers, that whole thing.” Phil glanced at Dan, choosing his next words carefully. “And, well, we started out just friends.”

Dan nodded, and Phil seemed to take that as encouragement. “But, well, we started to get to know each other better, and we thought we’d be better in a relationship, so we decided to go for it. We were already living together, and that kind of intensified things, I think. We were pretty serious from the beginning, but of course, marriage wasn’t really a possibility until recently. And then all of the sudden it was, and, I mean, it just made sense. Why wouldn’t we, you know?”

Dan’s mum nodded.

“And, well, now we’re here.” Phil smiled at Dan. Dan returned the smile gratefully.

Dan’s mum looked like she was about to ask another question, but luckily, before she could, their food arrived. Dan took the opportunity to sink into his plate, grateful for an excuse not to talk. “This is delicious,” he said, changing the subject.

Phil relaxed. He squeezed Dan’s hand under the table in gratitude. “It’s so good,” he said.

“It really is,” Dan’s mum agreed. “You have excellent taste in restaurants, Dan.”

Dan inflated under the praise- he couldn’t help it.

Phil kicked him under the table. “Don’t get too full of yourself.”

Dan sat back in his chair, sulking, but he couldn’t for too long. His plate drew him back in- this food really was good.

Phil steered the conversation away from their personal life and towards a series of stories about his childhood, and Dan was able to breathe again.

Phil really was amazing. Dan was lucky to have him, whatever form having him might take.

***

Dan was definitely drunk when they got back. He wandered to the kitchen, downing a glass of water. He didn’t feel thirsty, but he forced himself to drink another. If he got hungover from drinking too much wine at a nice restaurant, he might never live it down.

He dragged himself through a nightly routine, getting into his pajamas, brushing his teeth, and returning to his room, where he froze.

Phil was there.

Of course Phil was there. Where else would he be? Dan’s mum was sleeping in his room. If Dan had spent more than thirty seconds thinking about it, he would have realized, but he hadn’t.

He wished Phil would say something, do something, acknowledge how fucking bizarre this situation was, but he didn’t. He looked so normal that Dan was almost convinced this was normal.

“I’m going to bed,” Dan mumbled, and Phil nodded.

Dan climbed into his bed clumsily, rolling over on his side to stare at Phil.

Phil. He should do something about Phil, but he wasn’t sure what.

Dan swallowed. Should he ask Phil to sleep on the floor? No, that was incredibly rude, if anything, he should offer. But he was already in his bed, and Phil was climbing into it with him, and the bed dipped, and if Dan let his hand fall out, it would be brushing against Phil’s arm.

Dan let his hand fall. He held his breath. Phil’s skin was warm and soft and not moving away. Emboldened, he rolled himself a little bit closer.

He didn’t know why he was acting like this. Dan and Phil had shared beds before. It wasn’t that big of a deal. But lately, everything felt different.

Phil rolled himself closer too. “I get really cuddly when I sleep,” he whispered. “I hope that’s okay.”

Dan swallowed. His mouth was dry. Maybe he should go get more water. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Good,” Phil said, wrapping his arm around Dan and pulling him closer.

Dan stiffened slightly, surprised.

Phil frowned, lifting his head. “Are you okay?”

Dan forced himself to relax. “Yeah, sorry. You just startled me.”

Phil put his head down, snuggling closer. “Oh. Sorry.”

“You’re good,” Dan murmured. He closed his eyes, and let the weight of Phil’s warm body gently lull him to sleep.

***

Dan woke up to an empty bed the next morning, with no headache, thank god. He peeked at the clock, then immediately rolled over and tried to fall back asleep. He succeeded in working himself back into a light slumber, but just as he began to get comfortable, someone yanked his blanket off of him.

“Hey,” he mumbled, rolling over onto his back.

“Wake up,” Phil said, still holding Dan’s blanket in one hand. “You’ve been asleep for almost twelve hours.”

Dan rolled back onto his stomach and buried his face in his pillow. It smelled like Phil, and Dan realized with a start that this was not, in fact, his pillow. It was Phil’s. He stayed there anyway. “I’m tired.”

“Dan. Sleeping for twelve hours isn’t normal.”

“You should try it sometime,” Dan mumbled into the pillow.

“No thanks,” Phil said. “Now get up. I’ve been entertaining your mother for the past three hours and I’m going to go insane.”

Dan sighed, rolling and stumbling out of bed. “Oi. Watch what you say about my mum.”

“What’ll you do about it? Sleep more?”

“Maybe,” Dan grumbled, rifling through his dresser for clothes. He found a black T-shirt that seemed clean and tossed the shirt he had worn to bed to the side before putting it on.

He noticed Phil staring. “Whatcha looking at, mate?” he asked.

“Hurry up,” Phil said.

“I am hurrying,” Dan said, pulling a pair of jeans on.

“Hurry faster,” Phil said, closing the door behind him.

Dan would have liked some time to straighten his hair, but it didn’t look like that was happening today. He had straightened it yesterday; that would have to do. He stumbled out of his room and down the hall, squinting against the sudden light.

“Dan! You’re up!” His mum was way too cheery.

Dan managed a smile. “I’m up.”

“Took you long enough. How late were you up last night?”

Dan didn’t want to tell her that he had actually gone to bed early last night, he was just a mess. “I dunno,” he said instead. “Pretty late, probably.”

She rolled her eyes fondly. “When will you start sleeping at normal times, Dan?”

Dan shrugged, grabbing a box of cereal from the kitchen cabinets. It was still full- Dan supposed there were upsides to sharing a bed with Phil. He couldn’t sneak out at night to eat his cereal anymore. “I guess I’m still a teenager at heart.”

***

When Dan’s mum left, Phil didn’t move back into his own room. They never really discussed it- the first night after, Phil just came into Dan’s room at the normal time, and they fell asleep comfortably tangled together, just like normal.

When did their current arrangement become anything remotely resembling normal?

You could adjust to pretty much anything, Dan figured. Besides, it wasn’t like it was… bad. It was actually kind of nice. Just weird.

It was almost like they were a couple. It made sense, in a way. When people visited, it’d look suspicious if they slept in separate rooms, and if they were trying to pass off Phil’s room as a guest room, it’d be easier if Phil just didn’t sleep in it.

The easiest way to convince people of this lie was to live it, as much as possible.

Phil’s parents were the next to visit. Phil’s relationship with his parents had always been better than Dan’s, which made this trickier in some ways. Dan hated to admit it, but his mother barely knew him anymore. It made her easier to lie to.

Phil’s parents, though- they doted on him. They loved Phil with a ferocity that had always made Dan just a little bit jealous. And this meant they could see through him with a clarity that did not make Dan jealous at all.

They had Phil’s room prepared as a guest room ahead of time this time, at least. That saved them some awkwardness at the beginning of the visit.

They got a few minutes alone together while Phil’s parents unpacked.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Dan asked.

“Yes,” Phil said. “Don’t worry, Dan, they love you. This’ll be fine.” He grabbed Dan’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

It didn’t make Dan feel any better.

After a dinner Kath insisted on cooking for them, they discussed what to do for the rest of the evening.

“Cards?” Nigel offered.

Phil snorted. “Dan doesn’t know any card games but go fish.”

“Hey!” Dan elbowed Phil. “I know lots of card games.”

“Like?” Phil asked.

“Um,” Dan said. Phil’s eyes were twinkling. It was distracting. “Go fish. War. Poker-”

“You don’t know how to play poker,” Phil said delightedly.

“Shut up!” Dan said. “You don’t know how to play poker either-”

“I never claimed to.”

“We can teach you!” Kath beamed excitedly.

“Mum, that’s not the point-”

“It’ll be fun,” she insisted.

Phil gave in. “Okay, we can play poker.”

Poker wasn’t as hard as Dan had expected, though Kath was still easily winning almost every round. At least, it wasn’t hard until Phil’s parents started asking questions.

“Are you two going to Amanda’s wedding?” Nigel asked.

Phil’s eyes darted to Dan. “Maybe. I hadn’t decided yet.”

“You didn’t tell me Amanda was getting married,” Dan said, surprised. Amanda was Phil’s cousin- they had only met a few times, and briefly. Dan wouldn’t have expected to be invited to her wedding, though of course Phil probably would be, and since he and Phil were supposedly married now...

“She and her girlfriend have been engaged for a while,” Phil said. “As soon as it was legal, they started planning.”

Dan nodded.

“You should come, Phil. She’d like to see you,” Kath said, placing her cards down on the table.

“Gay solidarity,” Dan joked, bumping Phil’s shoulder.

He smiled stiffly, putting his own cards down. “We’ll see.”

“It would be so nice to be able to introduce Dan to the rest of the family,” Kath persisted.

“We’ll think about it,” Phil repeated.

Kath switched tactics. “Dan, won’t you two come? It’d be so nice to see you again, and it’s in London, you wouldn’t even have to-”

Phil interrupted. “I said, we’ll think about it.”

Kath sounded disapproving now. “Phil-”

Phil interrupted. “Mum! For the last time, we’ll think about it!”

“All right!” Kath raised her hands in defense. “I’m just saying-”

Phil stood up. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Phil-” Nigel said.

“I said I don’t want to talk about this.” Phil pushed his chair in and walked out.

Nigel put his cards down, and Dan did too. “You should follow him,” Kath said quietly to Dan.

Dan shook his head. “I think he’d rather be alone.” Dan didn’t really want to get involved in whatever Phil’s issue was with Amanda and her wedding. He cleared his throat. “Shall we play another round?”

Kath and Nigel shared a glance. “Sure,” Kath said finally, collecting everyone’s cards so she could shuffle them back into the deck. Dan handed his to her gratefully, hoping Phil was alright. He idly wondered what exactly had made Phil so upset.

Phil would probably talk to him about it later if it was important, and later, he didn’t, so it must not be important.

The night after Phil’s parents left, Dan half expected Phil to return to his own room, but he didn’t. He kept coming back to Dan’s, and Dan was grateful. The only time he could sleep well was with Phil curled up beside him, solid and warm.

And he had been sleeping a lot. Despite Phil’s constant bickering about how eight hours should be enough for any healthy human, it was rare for Dan to sleep less than ten, and most days he slept for at least twelve. He had gotten used to crawling into an empty bed and waking up an hour or so later to Phil crawling in after him. Phil would lie next to him, they would cuddle, and Dan would wake up again in the morning (well, afternoon) to an empty bed. And then he would get up, and then he would find Phil, and they would talk about something completely unimportant, and Dan would pretend to do work until he could go back to bed, the cycle complete.

Some days they had important conversations, arguments, really. Dan hated those days, but he had to admit a break from the monotony was nice sometimes. Maybe that was why he brought up Amanda’s wedding again.

“We shouldn’t go,” Phil said, for the millionth time. “I don’t want to have to keep up this performance all night.”

Dan shrugged. “It’s not much of a performance. We just need to go together and-”

“And what?” Phil said. “And act like a couple?”

“I think you’re overestimating how bad it’ll be,” Dan said. “No one is looking for reasons to not believe us.”

“Maybe not. But they’re looking.”

“Phil. You’re blowing this out of proportion. What do you think they’ll see?”

Phil shrugged. “Look, it’s just safer this way.”

“Are you planning to hide me from the rest of your family for the rest of our lives?”

Phil didn’t answer.

Dan didn’t know how it was possible to sleep as much as him and still be so unbelievably tired all the time. “If we’re always avoiding people, it’ll just cause even more questions. When does it end?”

“I don’t know,” Phil admitted. He looked so small in that moment; the one inch of height Dan had on him felt like a massive gulf.

Dan sighed. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’d like to go.”

Phil didn’t answer.

“Think about it?” Dan pleaded.

Phil nodded, short and stiff.

“Thank you,” Dan said.

***

Amanda and her wife were sickeningly sweet together. They couldn’t stop grinning at each other like lovesick fools, and all Dan wanted was to wipe that smile off their faces.

He couldn’t, so he just kept ordering more drinks from the open bar.

“Whoa, Dan. Slow it down.” Phil gently eased the glass of champagne out of Dan’s hand. “I think you’ve had enough already.”

Dan made a grab for it back. “No I haven’t.”

“Dan!” Phil held the glass back. It sloshed over the table. “You’re making a scene.”

“You’re making a scene,” Dan argued back.

“Dan, seriously.” Phil’s voice was a lot sharper than usual. If Dan had been sober, he probably would have backed down now, but he wasn’t.

“Give it.” Dan made another grab.

Phil set down the glass of champagne. “Dan.”

“What?” Dan whined.

“We need to go,” Phil said, standing up.

“But-” Dan protested.

“We’re leaving,” Phil said firmly. His hand on Dan’s wrist was even firmer as he pulled him up and towed him away.

Dan finally quieted down. He let Phil pull him away from the reception and towards the street.

“Aren’t we going to say bye to-”

“No,” Phil snapped.

“But- Isn’t it rude to-”

“Oh?” Phil turned to face him. “You want to talk about being rude?”

Dan stayed quiet until they climbed into their cab. “Phil-” he said.

“Not now, Dan,” Phil snapped.

Dan quieted down, spending the rest of the cab ride sulking and staring out the window.

Phil remained in stony silence when their cab arrived at their flat, and as they climbed their stairs. It was only once they were in their room that he finally spoke.

“What the fuck were you thinking tonight?” Phil shouted.

“I-” Dan interrupted.

“Be quiet,” Phil said. “For once in your life, be quiet for ten fucking minutes and let me talk.”

Dan rolled his eyes, but he shut up. Exactly how angry Phil was with him was finally starting to sink into his alcohol-sodden brain.

“We were at a wedding, Dan. A wedding for my cousin. I know you have your issues, but for fuck’s sake, Dan, you can’t act like this.”

Dan pouted. “But-”

Phil wheeled around with startling ferocity. “No. I don’t want to hear it.”

Dan cringed back.

“I’m not interested in your excuses right now. I’m sure you have a reason. I’m sure you have lots of reasons! Take care of them. You can’t act like this.”

Dan stared at the floor sullenly. “I just-” his voice broke.

Phil sat down on Dan’s bed. Their bed. When did it become their bed? “You just what?” he asked. He didn’t sound mad anymore. He just sounded tired.

How could Dan even explain it? What even was “it”?

He was miserable. He could barely wake up in the mornings. Something was wrong. Something had been wrong ever since he had married Phil.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Dan said, swaying and flopping down next to Phil.

“Do… what?”

“Any of this.” Suddenly, through his drunken haze, he knew what he had to do. “Phil, I’m sorry, I know we didn’t even make it to April-”

“What’s in April?” Phil asked, confused.

Dan groaned. “Taxes, Phil.”

That didn’t seem to clear things up. “Dan, why are you talking about taxes?” Phil was smiling a bit, at least, even if it was a very confused smile.

“Because half the reason I even agreed to this was for the fucking taxes!” Dan shouted, but he dissolved into giggles by the end of his sentence. “It’s not funny,” he muttered, swiping at his eyes, still laughing.

“Agreed to what?” Phil asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

“This,” Dan exclaimed, throwing his arm wide.

Phil frowned, looking where Dan seemed to be pointing.

Dan shook his head. “No, Phil,” he said, clumsily grabbing onto Phil’s hand. “This.”

Phil’s hand fit in his so perfectly. Dan never wanted to let go.

What was left of Phil’s smile slipped away. “Oh,” he said. “Us.”

“Yes.” Dan seized Phil’s other hand. “Us.”

Phil pulled his hands away. “Dan, I don’t know if we should-”

Dan might regret these words in the morning, but if he didn’t say them now, he probably never would. “I love you, Phil,” Dan said, reaching for him desperately. “Phil, please don’t go-” He reached too far and fell over.

“I think you need to go to bed,” Phil said carefully, patting Dan’s shoulder.

“No I don’t,” Dan muttered into his pillow. “I’m not tired.”

“You’re always tired.” Phil’s voice was flat. He was the one who sounded tired, Dan thought irritably.

Still, Dan couldn’t argue with that. “I’m not that tired.”

“You’re drunk. Go to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.” Phil’s face was stony and impassive, but that couldn’t stop the bloom of relief spreading through his body.

Dan sat up. “I already feel good, Phil. I don’t know why I didn’t say anything for so long-”

Phil winced. “We can talk in the morning.”

Dan’s heart deflated as Phil walked to the door.

“Come back,” Dan said sadly. “Wanna be with you.”

Phil turned around, hesitating in the doorway. “Dan, you’re drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk,” he said. “You’re drunk too,” he added as an afterthought, though he had no idea how much Phil had drunk at the wedding.

Phil shook his head. “Go to sleep, Dan.”

“But I want-”

“We can talk tomorrow. Okay, Dan?” Phil closed the door before Dan could reply, leaving Dan alone in the dark.

***

Dan woke up with a killer headache. He cracked his eyes open to check the time.

How the fuck had he managed to wake up at seven in the morning? Especially after last night? He opened his eyes a little bit further, and the light stabbed through his corneas to the back of his brain.

That was probably how. Got to love waking up in pain.

Someone (probably Phil, Dan would have guessed if he was in any sort of state to be making guesses) had left a glass of water and a few aspirins on his bedside table. He swallowed them quickly, draining the glass of water before curling up on his bed and waiting for his headache to subside.

It did, a bit. He wasn’t completely pain-free, but eventually, he was pain-free enough that he could think again.

He tried to remember last night. Phil was mad at him, he was pretty sure- he had gotten way too drunk at the wedding. Phil had yelled at him, and then they had talked and then Dan had-

Oh god. What had he done?

Told Phil he loved him, apparently, if his memory served him correctly.

Oh god. Their friendship was probably over. Their marriage definitely was. Why did Dan have to tell him in the worst possible way? Curse his stupid brain and the fact that he couldn’t talk about his feelings without a blood alcohol concentration of at least 0.1%.

Dan pulled the sheets back over his head, hoping the darkness would make it possible to fall back asleep and forget his problems, but his headache wouldn’t let him.

Well, there was nothing left to do then but face his problems. Dan pulled the sheets off of his head and sat up.

He hadn’t noticed at first, too preoccupied with his headache, but next to the glass of water on his bedside table, there was a box, with a piece of paper next to it. He grabbed it.

“Love you, spork,” the note read, in Phil’s scribbled, messy handwriting. Confused, he grabbed for the box. It was a small black jewelry box, and Dan stared at it. Still confused, he opened it.

A thin metal circlet, with a black diamond in the center. A ring. Dan didn’t know why he was surprised. What else would fit in a jewelry box that size?

He slipped it onto his left ring finger. It fit perfectly.

There was a soft knock at his door. “Dan?” Phil asked. “Can I come in?”

There was no point putting this off, was there? “Yeah,” Dan said.

Phil cracked the door open, peeking in. “I thought I heard you up.” He took a step forward, closing the door behind him. “You saw the ring?”

Dan nodded, mute.

Phil blushed, looking away. “I guess you’ve figured out what that’s about. I, um. I know we’re already kind of married, but I thought it might be nice to do it again. The right way.” He walked over to Dan, sitting next to him on the bed. He carefully removed the ring from Dan’s finger, putting it back in the box.

Dan rolled his eyes. “Phil, I’ve already seen it. You don’t need to-”

“Shh,” Phil said. He opened the box again, tilting it so Dan could see in. “Daniel James Howell, will you marry me?”

“Phil, we’re already-”

“For real this time,” Phil said. “I wasn’t brave enough to ask you properly the last time, and I’m sorry.”

Dan looked at the ring, hesitating. “I don’t- I’m confused, Phil.”

Phil lowered the box, looking down. “That’s... understandable.”

“I have questions.”

“I can answer them,” Phil promised.

“Did you really want to get married for the taxes?” Dan’s voice sounded small.

“No,” Phil admitted. “I didn’t expect you to go along with it, honestly. I thought… I don’t know, I thought I could make this into a real relationship without having to talk about it.” He paused, looking up, meeting Dan’s gaze. “Why did you go along with it?”

“I don’t know,” Dan said slowly. “It just… felt right. I didn’t think too much about it.” He maybe should have thought a little more, but it was too late for that now. “When did you get the ring?”

“I’ve had it for a few weeks now.”

“Why?”

Phil looked back down. “I was going to tell you eventually. Really.” When Dan didn’t answer, he continued. “I’m not good at this. I’m sorry.”

Dan smiled weakly. “I’m not very good at this either.”

“My parents thought it was a bad idea.”

Dan was surprised. “Did they know?”

Phil cleared his throat, embarrassed. “I didn’t exactly tell them, but I think they might have suspected. I’ve… liked you for a while.”

Dan frowned. “But-”

“What?”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Dan said, brow still furrowed. He buried his head in his hands. “When we first met. I asked you out. You said you weren’t interested.” It felt weird to talk about now. Neither of them had mentioned it in almost five years.

“I thought- I don’t know.” Phil sighed. “I liked you, but I just couldn’t see a way it could work.”

“So you lied,” Dan said.

“I didn’t-” Phil started, but his protest died down under Dan’s cold stare. “I guess it could be seen that way,” he admitted, “But I don’t think I said anything that wasn’t technically true.”

Dan shrugged. “Still,” he muttered. A five-year-old rejection shouldn’t still sting, he knew, but it did.

“I’m sorry,” Phil said. “But- I think it could work now. If you’ll give me another chance.” Phil lifted the box back up. “Please?” he whispered.

Dan took the ring out of the box and slipped it on his ring finger.

Phil let the box drop to his side. “Dan, I’m the one who’s supposed to-”

“Shut up,” Dan said. “Yes, Phillip Michael Lester. I will marry you.” He leaned across towards Phil, and kissed him.

***

“Are you nervous?” his mum asked.

“No,” he lied. “Why would I be nervous?”

“It’s a big day.” She smiled and straightened his black tie, but Dan could tell from the way her fingers were shaking that she was just as nervous as he was, if not more so.

“I’m not nervous,” he insisted.

“All right,” his mum said, still smiling. She hugged him. “Are you ready?”

Dan nodded, straightening up. “Yes.” He wasn’t lying this time. He was ready for this; he had been for years.

Music started playing. That was his cue to start walking down the aisle.

“Hurry up!” his mum said, pushing him forward.

“Mum!” Dan said. “Calm down.” He took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders before moving forward. He opened the doors, and saw Phil waiting at the other end of the aisle.

Phil looked amazing, as always, in a pure white suit and tie. His dark hair stood out against his pale skin and white suit, and Dan swore he could see the blue of his eyes from where he was standing.

Phil’s face lit up as he made eye contact with Dan. Dan started walking down the aisle towards his husband, every step bringing him closer to the man he loved and the future he dreamed of.

[itskimtaehyung]

When the Stars Align (M)

Part of the Bangtan Assortment Collaboration 

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: FakeDating!AU with a hint of roommates (well actually more like apartment-mates but roommates is catchier), College!AU, fluff, angst

Word count: 10.5k

Content/Warnings: Mentions of heavy drinking, drug usage, strong language, but also cute things like adopting a dog together

Summary: With cuffing season approaching its end, you thought you had escaped the pressures of finding a boyfriend for the holidays. That is, until your friends set you up on a blind date that goes horribly wrong. This prompts you to enlist the help of your roommate, Yoongi, to fake a relationship so your friends will stop meddling in your love life. And it turns out Yoongi is a lot better at this romance thing than you originally thought...

Spending Valentine’s Day alone sucks.

Even though some people claim they don’t care about being single on one of the many holidays created by capitalist overlords solely to profit off the purest emotion we as humans can experience, everyone cares, just a little bit.

Valentine’s Day is just about the fakest holiday known to man. Does anyone even remember the original meaning behind it anymore? You’re just painfully reminded of how single you are. No one even gets the day off, so can it really be considered a holiday? Although you admit you still can’t help but fall for its charms: The cute little teddy bears that line the grocery store shelves; pink and red, heart-shaped balloons, boxes, and pretty much everything; and candy, half-priced the following day. Also, seeing all the couples being lovey-dovey with each other kind of makes you wish you had someone to cuddle for yourself.

You’ve never really been in a long-term relationship. (Unless you count that boy in high school, who helped you raise your very own sack of flour in health class, equipped with its own voice box to cry every couple of hours, and you two were together all day, every day, for two months straight. Let’s just say that was a bonding experience in more ways than one, and you did very well in health class that semester. The two of you dated for a year after that.)

The thing is, in this fast-paced, ever-changing world, you get bored easily. Some of your relationships don’t last more than a month, a day, or even past the first date.

There is only one person you want to spend Valentine’s Day with this year, and you know he absolutely does not feel the same. And probably never will.

Let’s take a little trip back to last December.

You and your group of friends decided to go out for sushi at your favorite all-you-can-eat sushi restaurant. All of you had just finished finals, so you went out to celebrate.

“Y/N! Are you going with anyone to the New Year Ball?” Jungkook asked loudly over the chatter in the restaurant.

The annual New Year Ball is a huge holiday party put on by your school’s Student Association at the end of each calendar year. The original purpose of this social was for frats, sororities, and clubs to recruit new members, but the event is now used as a way for burnt out college students to drink and blow off steam after final exams. The Student Association books out the entire student center (all three floors of it) for the party of the year. You have no idea why the school would allow such a function, let alone fund it, but you can’t complain. You’re a sucker for free food and alcohol.

“No, I was just gonna go with you guys,” you said before stuffing a too-big piece of tiger roll into your mouth.

“Uh uh,” Hoseok interjected. “We all have dates.”

Taehyung, who was seated to your right, reached across you to grab the soy sauce. “Seriously, you don’t have anyone to go with?”

You shook your head, still chewing.

“What about Kai?”

Kai was a guy you met on a dating app last semester who you ended up hooking up and then never seeing again. He was a terrible person, so arrogant and full of himself. You felt your personalities clash the second you two met. But he was also a beautiful god of a man and you weren’t going to let him slip away from you before banging one out with him. After that, you deleted the app and blocked his number.

You forced the colossal piece of sushi down your throat so that you could finally speak. “Nooooo.” You shook your head vigorously. “That ship has sailed. Plus he’s a Capricorn.”

They all gave you a puzzled look that said they needed more explanation.

“Hello? I’m an Aries?” You waved your hands around, gesturing toward yourself, nearly whacking Taehyung with your chopsticks. “Aries can’t stand Capricorns.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Oh no, you didn’t ask him for his birth chart on the first date, did you?”

“No.” You shifted your gaze away from him and sipped your drink.

“Jesus.”

“Okay,” Seokjin chimed in with half an edamame pod hanging out of his mouth, “but you really need a boyfriend. You’re the only one of us that’s single.”

Namjoon motioned for Hoseok to pass him the wasabi and ginger. “Yeah, sometimes we want to invite you places but worry you’ll feel awkward because all of us are bringing our girlfriends.”

“That’s fine! I love hanging out with your girlfriends! Sometimes it’s too much testosterone when it’s just you guys.”

“No.”  Namjoon shook his head. “We need to find you a boyfriend, too.”

“Joon, I don’t want–”

“How about Taeyong!” Jimin suggested.

“I don’t know, isn’t he kind of a fuckboy? I don’t want our Y/N to get hurt.”

“It’s just one date. Plus they’ll be with us. We won’t let anything bad happen.” Taehyung gave you a reassuring grin.

You huff. “Fine. Can you pass me the rainbow roll please?”

So, that New Year’s Eve, you got ready for the party as your roommate (flatmate, housemate, or apartment-mate are probably more accurate descriptions for what he is, since the two of you share an apartment/flat, but have separate rooms. However, for simplicity, let’s use “roommate” from now on) made dinner in the kitchen.

“Oooh, got a date tonight?” he teased, whisking together some eggs in a bowl as you were leaving.

“That’s none of your business,” you replied, shoving a gold hoop earring into your ear.

He eyed your outfit. “Don’t you think that dress is a little… I don’t know… Short?”

You resisted the urge to flip him off. “Shut the fuck up, you perv. I can wear whatever I want.”

Yoongi chuckled to himself. “Whatever.”

“Bye, Yoongi!”

“Don’t get too crazy out there, Y/N. You know how NYB can be.”

You simply rolled your eyes and left, shutting the door behind you without saying anything further.

You had to watch how much you drank that night, because your friends had declared you the designated driver for your date, which you’re still salty about. The six of them arrived shortly after you did, with Taeyong in tow. You had never met the boy before, but right off the bat you could see that he is undeniably handsome. Now you knew why people called him a fuckboy. With a face and body like that, you would use it to your advantage, too.

You greeted your friends in the lobby and before you could say anything further, Taeyong walked straight up to you.

“We’re going to find our girlfriends,” Jungkook informed you. And then the six of them left you alone with your date.

“Hi, I’m Taeyong,” he held his hand out, intending for you to shake it.

Wow, a gentleman. “Hi. Y/N.”

“I know, your friends have told me quite a bit about you.” He shot you a flirty smile.

Since you’re here, you might as well have some fun. “Well, that’s not fair, I hardly know anything about you.”

“Then we should spend the rest of the night getting to know each other, shouldn’t we?” He smirked, not breaking eye contact with you for a second.

Oh, he was good. A smooth talker with shiny brown eyes that could pull you in, hypnotize you, and leave you wanting to give him all of your attention.

“AY, TAEYONG!” The shout rang across the lobby of the Student Center, pulling you out of the little moment you just had with Taeyong. It was one of his frat brothers, marching over carrying three shot glasses. “Let’s do some shots, bro!”

“You know it!” Taeyong greeted his brother with a shoulder bump and took two of the shot glasses from him. He offered one of them to you.

Hesitantly, you took it, suddenly feeling a bit shy since you don’t really know either of these guys. Both of them took their shots and Taeyong looked toward you expectantly, waiting for you to take yours. You downed it quickly, and gave the tiny plastic cup back to Taeyong’s friend.

“Thanks, man.” He clapped his friend on the back.

“Yo, of course, bro. Listen, this really hot ABG was getting all up on me earlier, so I’m gonna go back over to her. I’ll catch you later, alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you later, man!” Taeyong waved his friend off. “Let’s get some more drinks!” Before you could say anything, he grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the drink table.

There was a lot of alcohol. More than enough for the entire student body to get absolutely wasted. The Student Association definitely did not skimp out this year. It looked as if they bought out the whole alcohol section of the nearest Costco.

“Oh shit!” Taeyong’s eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store. “We gon’ get turnt tonight!” He whooped.

“I have to drive you home later, so I can’t drink too much,” you reminded him.

“All good, Y/N,” he said while pouring himself some beer into a red plastic cup. “I’ll drink enough for the both of us.” He then added two shots of soju to his cup and chugged it quickly until it was all gone. You must have made a concerned face, because Taeyong placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “Don’t worry, I can handle my alc.”

For some reason, that didn’t reassure you too much.

“So how did you and your friends meet?” Taeyong had to shout over the music and the overall loudness of all the people around you.

You two were in one of the study rooms, which had been converted into a lounge for the party. Sofas lined the edges of the walls. You and Taeyong were now sitting in one of the more secluded ones in the corner behind some fake potted plants.

“I met Jungkook in elementary school, the rest of the guys were accumulated throughout high school and college.”

“Mhm.” He responded in a way that didn’t seem like he was actually listening. His hand was on your thigh, slowly inching its way upward. Maybe Yoongi was right, maybe this dress was a little too short.

“How did you meet them?” you asked.

Taeyong took a sip of his drink. “I know Jungkook, Jimin, and Hoseok from dance. The other three I just met tonight.” He was a little too close, and his breath smelled strongly of beer.

“Ahh, I see.” You were running out of small talk. You didn’t know what you could possibly talk about with him. From what you’ve gathered, he’s an economics major with enough units to graduate already, but he’s staying so that he doesn’t miss out on any of the parties his fraternity hosts. All he seems to do is drink and fuck, and tonight was no different.

As you were talking, his hand made its way even higher up your thigh, and at this point it was right at the hem of your dress. Taeyong teased the edge with his finger, looking into your eyes to gauge your reaction.

You shook your head and pushed his hand away. You couldn’t deny he was attractive, and you wouldn’t have minded sleeping with him, but this was not the time nor the place. “I’m not having sex with you on school property.”

“Come on, why not? I’ve done it before, it’s no big deal. Plus, I used to work here, so I know which closets we can get into without a key.” He winked at you.

You leaned in so that your lips were right next to his ear. “Save it for later.”

The boy smirked at you. “Fine.”

“TAEYOOOOOOOOOOONG,” you heard someone shout from across the room. You and Taeyong looked over to find an obnoxiously handsome guy in a letterman jacket holding a bottle of tequila. “SHOTS?!”

“HELL YEAH!” Taeyong leapt up from the sofa, throwing his plastic cup onto the floor, and bounded over to his frat brother.

You stayed behind and watched them from afar. A small crowd of dudebros gathered around them, holding out tiny plastic cups as letterman-jacket-guy filled them to the brim with alcohol. Taeyong took six shots, one with each of the guys, and bellowed triumphantly as soon as he downed the last one.

“BEER BONG?!” One of them shouted.

Taeyong hooted in agreement and followed his friends into the next room, completely overlooking your existence.

Where were your friends? You hadn’t seen them throughout the entire party, and you definitely were looking for them. In all honesty, you didn’t really like being alone with Taeyong. The two of you just didn’t click, and he’s very touchy when he’s drunk. Therefore, you were hoping that you would be able to find your friends and hang out with them as well, but you hadn’t seen them the whole night.

You took the elevator up to the third floor, where an actual, literal rave was taking place. The third floor was one big ballroom, and tonight, multicolored lights flashed and loud electronic music thumped as hundreds of sweaty, drunk college kids danced around. If your friends were up here, there would be no way for you to find them, so you gave up on the cause and took the elevator back down. You could still feel the pounding of the bass even after the elevator doors closed, and on your way down you wondered if that was safe, or if the vibrations from the music would compromise the strength of the cables and the elevator would come crashing down, inevitably leading to your tragic death. Yoongi would probably know.

With a ding! the elevator doors opened and you arrived back on the second floor. You were greeted with the sight of your date, a funnel connected to a tube which fed into his mouth, and one of his friends pouring an entire keg of beer down said funnel.

“CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!” The crowd around him chanted.

You sighed to yourself. Frat boys will be frat boys.

“It’s just one date. We won’t let anything bad happen.” You grumbled. That’s what your friends had said to you, but where were they now? Nowhere to be found. You tried texting your group chat with them, but none of them replied.

You went back to the secluded corner from earlier and sat down. You checked your phone again, and still nothing from your friends. You pouted and opened your messaging app.

You: how’s your night going?

You waited a few seconds and then felt the device vibrate in your hand.

Nerd: Shhhhh Halsey is performing You: smh you and your obsession with halsey Nerd: Not so much obsession as admiration Nerd: She’s on my list of top 5 people i want to work with one day You: haha in your dreams Nerd: It’ll happen just you wait Nerd: Also why are you messaging me? your date not going well?

“Y/N!!!!!!!!!” As if on cue Taeyong drunkenly stumbled over to you. He was so inebriated that he could barely walk. His friends had to support most of his weight.

“Oh my god,” you muttered.

When his friends let him go, he collapsed onto the floor, and was too drunk to pick himself up.

“What happened to being able to handle your alc?”

Taeyong struggled to lift his head up. “What are you talking about? I’m totally fine.” His words were badly slurred as he spoke, and you almost couldn’t understand him.

“Oh, jeez. Okay.” You stepped around him and bent over so that you could hoist him up by his armpits. “We need to get you home.”

“No! I’m totally fine!” When you got him to his feet he grabbed a shot glass from someone walking by and poured it into his mouth. The alcohol dribbled down his chin and the passerby shot him a look of annoyance because Taeyong just stole their drink.

You smacked Taeyong on the back of the head. “Stop drinking! You’re gonna kill yourself if you keep going.”

He stomped his foot like a child. “Noooooo!”

You began dragging him toward the elevator and he didn’t resist. When the elevator arrived, you pushed your date into it and pushed the button for the first floor. When the doors opened, you pulled Taeyong out and almost bumped into Jungkook.

“Hey, Y/N! Are you having fun?” He still hadn’t noticed how inebriated Taeyong was.

“I’m not in the mood for small talk right now, Jungkook. Where have you guys been?” You didn’t even try to hide your annoyance.

“Whoa,” Jungkook gasped, noticing your drunk friend for the first time. “What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Can you tell the rest of the guys that I’m taking Taeyong home now?” You pulled Taeyong toward the entrance.

“Okay. Are you coming back? It’s still pretty early.”

“I think I’ve had enough for one night. I’m never forgiving you guys for this. Goodnight, Jungkook.”

Jungkook waved you goodbye. “Okay, get home safe, Y/N.”

You opened the door to your apartment and saw Yoongi sitting on the couch, sipping on a bottle of beer, and watching the ball dropping ceremony on TV.

“You’re home early,” he remarked. “Didn’t like your date?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You kicked off your shoes and walked right passed him and into your room, slamming the door shut behind you.

“Goodnight, I guess.” Yoongi shrugged and returned to watching his program.

You and your friends regrouped for brunch on the following Sunday morning. Even the barely noticeable smell of alcohol from the mimosas that Jin and Jimin ordered brought back nauseating memories of the party.

“I can’t believe you set me up with Taeyong, who I later found out is a Cancer???? Aries are the least compatible with Cancers!!!”

“I thought that was Capricorns,” Hoseok asserted before stuffing his face with french toast.

“Them too! Capricorns and Aries usually can’t stand each other but when you find two that are compatible it’s like–”

“Anyway,” Taehyung interrupted. “It wasn’t even his personality that you didn’t like, it was his lack of control.”

“It doesn’t matter!” You protested. “It was doomed from the start!”

“Whatever. Enough of this fictitious mumbo jumbo.” Taehyung waved his hand dismissively. “So, Taeyong was an utter failure. Who else do we know who’s single?” The question was directed at the other five boys at the table.

“I don’t want you setting me up with anymore of your friends,” you told them.

“Too bad, we need to find you a boyfriend. You can’t let one bad date stop you from going on others.”

They didn’t seem to be taking no for an answer. You needed to put a stop to this fast. But how? You didn’t have time to think. Before anyone could respond with their suggestions, you blurted out, “I’m dating Yoongi!”

Taehyung nearly choked on his strawberry. “What? Your roommate? Isn’t he a Pisces?”

“And?”

“Aries aren’t compatible with Pisces.”

“And how would you know that, Tae? Aren’t you the one who made fun of me for looking up Kai’s birth chart? Aren’t you the one who just – not even a minute ago – called it fictitious mumbo jumbo?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jungkook holds his hands out to stop everyone. “How did this happen?”

Jimin looked at you curiously. “Yeah, Y/N. You’ve been living with Yoongi for almost a year. Why now?”

“Uhhhh.” You wracked your brain for an explanation. How did you get together with Yoongi? You had to come up with an explanation that your friends would believe. “After I dropped off Taeyong the night of the New Year Ball, I came home crying.” Your palms started to sweat so you rubbed your hands together. “Yoongi was still awake watching the ball dropping ceremony, so he comforted me, and we ended up falling asleep on the couch together.”

“Did you fuck him?”

You kicked Seokjin under the table. “No! Jin, don’t be gross!”

“Owww! What? You’re the type to move pretty fast. I don’t know.” He bent down to rub his shin.

“Wait, hold up,” Jungkook cut in, ready to poke holes in your story. “Since when do you cry?”

“Hey! I cry! What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know. Sounds kind of fake. I’ve known you for more than ten years and I’ve only seen you cry once when your turtle died.”

“I can cry! I’m perfectly capable of crying!”

“If what you’re saying is true, then bring Yoongi with you the next time we get dinner together. Does Tuesday night work for everyone?”

All the boys nodded their heads.

Shit. You could feel your face getting hot. “Uhh, since the relationship is still pretty new, I’m not sure Yoongi would want to make it public just yet,” you lied.

“Come on, Y/N. We’ve known Yoongi for over a year, and we’ve known you for even longer. There’s no reason for you guys to hide from us.”

You groaned. “Fine, I’ll bring him. But don’t think I’ve forgiven you guys for setting me up with that trainwreck.”

“We’re sorry, Y/N. Really.”

How would you possibly explain this whole situation to your roommate? “Hey, uh, I told my friends we were dating so they wouldn’t set me up with another fuckboy, and now they want to do a septuple date.”???

You just know he would give you endless shit for this. For as long as you’ve known him, Yoongi has always been the sarcastic smartass who loves to poke fun at you.

From commenting on what you wear: “That’s not a shirt, Y/N.” (Also, remember your dress on New Year’s Eve?)

Giving you “helpful” hints when you try to fix something that broke: “You know that’s not going to work, right?”

To helping you with your math homework: “You get to ask me one question per month. After that I’m going to start charging you a fee.”

To some, his treatment toward you may seem harsh or mean. What a lot of people don’t understand is that you two are this way because you’re comfortable with each other. It’s not one-sided. You definitely roast Yoongi back. And it’s never serious. It’s a sibling type of banter.

Although the two of you are comfortable with each other, Yoongi also keeps to himself a lot, only sharing bits and pieces of him with you. He’s serious and stoic a lot of the time, and when he’s home, you mostly see him studying or watching TV. But you guess this is typical behavior of someone who’s studying to be a sound engineer.

He rarely tells you anything about his dating life. He had a girlfriend when he first moved in. You know this because he would bring her over every weekend, and you would hear them in his room. Every. Fucking. Weekend. But all of that stopped a couple of months ago. You know they broke up, but you don’t know why, or whose decision it was. Yoongi rarely talked about her, so you couldn’t tell if he actually liked her or not, or if it was just a sexual thing. Come to think of it, you couldn’t remember the last time he expressed feelings for anyone.

You turned toward your roommate, who sat next to you on the couch, reading one of his textbooks.

“Are you a sociopath?” You asked him, casually of course, as roommates do.

Without even looking up he replied with, “What in that tiny, little brain of yours prompted you to ask me such a thing?”

You smacked him with one of your throw pillows, which took Yoongi a considerable amount of convincing to let you buy because he thought they were “useless and a waste of money.”

“Because I’ve never seen you express emotion toward anything. Not even food.”

“Just because I don’t have an orgasm every time I eat pizza like you do, does not mean I’m a sociopath. For your information, I am perfectly capable of emotion. I just prefer to channel it into my music.”

You rolled your eyes. He’s so pretentious. “Then why aren’t you dating anyone?

He closed his textbook. “Jeez, Y/N. Not everything is about dating. I just got out of that messy relationship with Nayeon, remember?

“I thought you were just with her for sex? I didn’t know you actually liked her.”

“We were together for four fucking years, of course I liked her. You don’t just share such a big chunk of your life with someone and not feel something for them.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that you were together for that long. You never really told me much about her.”

He shrugged. “That’s because you entered my life during the last year of our relationship, and at that point we could already feel our relationship start to all apart.”

“She was here all the time, though.”

“Yeah, we thought seeing each other more would help fix us, but after a while it just got kind of tedious. So we called it off.”

This was good, this was the most information you’d gotten out of him in a while. “Do you still have feelings for her?”

“Of course, but it didn’t work out. It’s in the past now and I need to move on. My friends think that finding someone knew would help me get over it, but I need to take some time for myself.”

You nodded understandingly. “What were you like with her? You know, before all the bad stuff. I can’t imagine you being romantic in any sense of the word,” you jested.

“Hey! I was romantic! I took her to the beach and bought her flowers and stuff.”

“Wow. A real stunner, you are,” you said sarcastically

Yoongi rolled his eyes

“Hey, here’s a nutty idea.”

Your roommate raised an eyebrow at you. You thought long and hard about how you were going to do this. All the scenarios that played out in your head seemed utterly ridiculous, but you had to tell him somehow. This seemed like the least weird way to broach the subject with him.

“What if we like….. Pretended to date?” you asked hesitantly, wiping your sweaty palms onto your throw pillow. See? It’s not entirely useless.

“Why the fuck would we do that?”

“You know… Because my friends are trying to set me up with people… And from what you’ve said, your friends want you to start dating again, too.”

“Yeah, that’s what my friends want, but I don’t have to do what they want.”

“I’m just saying, you know… It might be beneficial for both of us.” You couldn’t look Yoongi in the eyes. Instead, your gaze shifted just about everywhere else: out the window, the TV, the ceiling.

Yoongi definitely noticed and could tell you were hiding something. His eyes narrowed at you. “What’s the real reason, Y/N.”

You shrugged and shook your head. “That is the real reason.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” His gaze grew more intense and you could feel his gaze burning holes into your face.

You sighed deeply. “Fine. So I… Uhh…”

Yoongi looked at you expectantly. Were you really going to tell him? You had to own up to your stupid decision. But it was exactly that: stupid.

“I may or may not have told my friends that you and I are dating.”

“Fucking hell, Y/N.” There wasn’t even any surprise in his voice. It was more like disappointment, exasperation. Like his exact thoughts were, typical Y/N, always up to the same shenanigans.

“I’m sorry! I panicked! I didn’t want to get setup with another Taeyong and you were the first person who came to mind! I just kind of blurted it out during brunch!”

Yoongi was silent for a long time, and you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. What would you do if he said no? What would you tell your friends?

After an eternity, he finally answered. “Fine”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Great. Our first date is tomorrow.”

“Fucking hell! Thanks for the warning!”

“See you then!” You jumped up from the couch and ran to your room before he could verbally abuse you further.

“Oh my god. Are you seriously wearing that on our first date?” Yoongi was standing in the doorway to his room as you eyed his outfit, which consisted of a white t-shirt underneath an unbuttoned red and cream plaid flannel, accompanied by ripped light wash jeans and old tennis shoes.

“Yeah? What’s wrong with this?” He gave you a mildly annoyed, confused look.

“Nothing’s wrong with it if you’re going to class. But this is dinner with my friends! Our debut as a couple! You can’t wear that!”

Yoongi sighed. “Fine. Then what do you suggest I wear.”

You huffed and pushed past him into his room, him following closely behind. You stared into his closet, eighty percent of which was completely black. Somehow, today, he managed to throw on the only non-black outfit he owned.

“No. No. No.” You grumbled as you sifted through his clothes.

“Why do I even need to dress nicely? I’ve already met all your friends. It’s not like I have to make a good first impression or anything.”

“Still! They would never believe I would date someone who’s dressed like that.”

“Hey! You know, you’re such a bitch sometimes.”

“I know.” You pulled out a red and black swirly patterned button down that was squeezed between two black sweaters. Ugh, there was no method of organization to this closet whatsoever. You caught a glimpse of the tag as you removed it from the closet. “Dior? Damn. I didn’t know you were the type to wear designer.”

Yoongi snatched it out of your hand protectively. “I’m not. Nayeon gave it to me.”

You gently took it back from him. “Okay, so it’s a touchy subject. I guess we’re not going with that one.” You put it back on to the clothing rack and pull out a long wool coat. “Valentino? You’re kidding me, right? Is there any nice stuff in here that you bought yourself?”

Yoongi shook his head.

“Now I know why she bought all of this stuff for you: so you don’t embarrass her everytime you two went out in public.” You sighed. “Well, I guess we’re just going to have to work with it.”

You pulled the red and black shirt back out and handed it and the coat to Yoongi.

“No peeking,” Yoongi warned. You nodded and turned around.

As he changed, you rifled through his closet for some suitable pants, so you wouldn’t accidentally catch a glimpse of your roommate shirtless. You found the pair of black ripped jeans that Yoongi always wore and decided to go with those.

“I don’t like this jacket,” Yoongi whined. You took it as a sign that it was safe to turn around.

The jacket reached almost to the floor, and his arms were tight against his sides, like he could barely move them. “You’re right. You look so stuffy. Like a little old man.”

“Hey! Listen up, bitch.” Yoongi squared his shoulders and took a couple of steps closer to you. “I may be older than you, but I’m also taller.” He prodded your shoulder threateningly with his finger.

“Not if I wear heels. Which is what I’m planning to do tonight.” You smirked at him.

“Fine, then I’ll wear my platform sneakers.”

“That still won’t be enough,” you teased.

He frowned and you chuckled at his reaction.

“I’m kidding. I’m not going to wear heels tonight. So, you still get to be taller than me.”

“Why does it feel like I’m receiving some sort of consolation prize?”

You rolled your eyes. “God, you’re so annoying.”

“Can I just go without the jacket? It’s not that cold outside.” Yoongi struggled to take off his coat so you walked up behind him and helped pull it down his shoulders.

“Okay, but if I get cold, what are you going to offer me for protection? How are you supposed to romantically give me your jacket if you don’t even have one?”

Yoongi groaned. “God, your ideas of romance are so antiquated.”

“And your ideas of romance are nonexistent!” You countered.

“Whatever,” he spat. “Just pick a jacket you want to wear then. It’s too warm out for me to wear one.”

You grudgingly agreed and grabbed a simple black blazer from the closet. The tag on the back said H&M.

“You guys! I’m so excited to try this place!” Taehyung ran up to where you and Yoongi waited outside the new omurice restaurant that opened up across town.

“I hope it’s good,” Yoongi said. “This would be the first omurice place here and I haven’t had decent omurice since I went to Kyoto a couple of years ago.”

“What is this? You? Min Yoongi? Getting excited about food?”

Yoongi shot you a warning look, which you ignored.

“If you miss it so much, why don’t you try making it yourself?”

“If you paid any attention to me at all, you would know I make it all the time, but it’s never the same.”

You frowned at him, offended that he would accuse you of not paying him any attention at home. “I totally pay attention to you!”

“Then you would know I made omurice just last Thursday!”

“Thursday is my busy day! I wasn’t home all day!”

“Okay!” Taehyung interrupted, clapping his hands together. He was probably afraid you two would either start throwing punches or angrily making out. Neither of which he wanted to witness at that moment. “Let’s get a table and wait for the others inside.”

“So did you enjoy it? Was it as good as the one you had in Kyoto?” You looped your arm around Yoongi’s and rested your chin on his shoulder.

Yoongi set his spoon down onto his now empty plate and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “It was pretty good.” He didn’t turn to face you because he didn’t want his face that close to yours. “But to be honest, nothing can top the one I ate in Kyoto.”

You moved your hand toward Yoongi’s, which was now placed limply on his thigh. He squirmed as you got too close to his crotch.

“Hold my hand, dumbass,” you whispered so that only he could hear. “And smile please.”

Yoongi turned his face toward you and gave you a soft smile so convincing, your heart fluttered for a split second before you came to your senses. He leisurely intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Thanks, you’re doing a great job,” you told him. Yoongi was never really one to seek out praise and validation, but you wanted him to know that he was doing a good job.

“Awww, you guys are so cute,” Hoseok cooed. “Y/N, I’m glad you’re finally dating someone again.”

“I don’t know why y’all are so damn concerned with my love life. It’s none of your fucking business.”

“It’s just that you haven’t been in a relationship in so long, this is quite interesting to watch.”

You twisted your face at Jungkook.

“So tell me more about how this whole thing happened.” Jungkook sat up attentively, putting his elbows up on the table and resting his face in his hands, wanting to hear every word you had to say.

“I already told you everything.”

“Okay, but I want to hear it from Yoongi’s perspective.” He nodded at your fake boyfriend.

“Shit,” you muttered and squeezed Yoongi’s hand. You raised an eyebrow at Yoongi, an expression that said, “You remember what I told you, right?”

Yoongi nodded. “Well, I don’t know what Y/N told you but, she came home really upset after the New Year Ball, thanks to you guys, and that’s when it kind of happened.”

“We’ve apologized so many times for that.” Jin rolled his eyes.

“And yet I still don’t accept your apologies,” you quipped.

You looked over at Jungkook to see that he was eyeing you warily. Your cheeks burned under his scrutiny. Did he still not believe you? Even after you and Yoongi’s blatant (albeit forced) displays of affection? Maybe because he knew neither of you were big fans of PDA. Or maybe because he’s known you for more than half your life and can tell when you’re lying 90% of the time.

Just when you’re about to crack under his gaze, the waiter comes over with the bill.

“So how are we going to do this?” Namjoon addressed everyone at the table.

“I don’t know. You’re the math major; you tell us,” Jimin retorted.

Yoongi grabbed his wallet from his back pocket with the hand that wasn’t holding yours. “I’ll pay for Y/N and me.”

“How noble,” Jungkook scoffed.

You leaned closer to Yoongi. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Of course, it’s our first date. Let me pay.”

You blushed. “Okay.”

Then the unexpected happened. Yoongi leaned in closer and gave you a quick peck on the tip of your nose.

You gaped at him momentarily and then immediately regained your composure. You turned around to see Hoseok and Jin looking at you fondly, Taehyung and Jimin making disgusted faces, Jungkook with his eyebrows raised in a look of surprise and horror, and Namjoon too distracted by figuring out how to split the bill.

Luckily, because of this stunt, Jungkook forgot about grilling Yoongi with the questions.

“Okay, so I’m going to cover it with my credit card and I’ll charge you guys on BuddyPay.” Namjoon announced, still totally oblivious to the kiss that just shocked the whole table.

Everyone else grumbled in agreement.

After the payment was sorted out, your friends trickled out of the restaurant while you and Yoongi stayed behind. The second they were gone, Yoongi dropped your hand as if you had the plague.

“God, your hand is so sweaty,” he griped, wiping his hand on his jeans.

“Sorry! I was nervous!”

“Aww. You get nervous around me?”

“It wasn’t because of you, asshole.” You slapped his arm. “It’s because I’m a terrible liar! I almost popped a blood vessel everytime one of them looked me in the eye. Especially Jungkook! I know he suspects something.”

Yoongi shrugged. “Well, if it means anything, I think you were pretty convincing.”

“Thanks. It doesn’t. Also why did you kiss me? We never agreed to any kissing.”

“Did that kiss really affect you that much?” Yoongi smirked and got up from his seat.

You huffed. “Fuck you, Yoongi!”

“A kiss is as far as I’m gonna go.”

You scowled and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair, jogging a little to catch up to him.

By the time you caught up, he was waiting by the door for you. “How are we going to make it convincing if I never kiss you?” Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Also, if you pop a blood vessel, I’m not driving you to the hospital.”

You frowned. “Whatever. Let’s get out of here.”

“God, I’m so full,” you groaned once you got outside. “Can we walk around a bit?”

Yoongi nodded. “Sure. I’ve never been in this plaza. We can check out what they have.”

Out of the corner of your eye you notice a Critter Castle on the other side of the parking lot.

“Ooh! A pet store! Let’s go in!” You grabbed Yoongi by the wrist and hauled him across the parking lot.

Immediately when you walk in, Yoongi gravitated toward the puppies. There was a small one, with curly brown fur that he took a particular liking to.

“Hey there, little guy.” The puppy perked up and started hopping around in its pen. “You’re an excited one aren’t you? Hi.” He brought his hand up to the barrier, allowing the puppy to stick its nose through and lick Yoongi’s fingers.

It wasn’t often that you got to see Yoongi’s soft side. He was always either serious or sarcastic around you. But seeing him like this made the corner of your lips tug up and your heart feel warm.

What was this weird feeling? It couldn’t possibly be… Could it?

You shook off the weird feeling. “What’s its name?” You asked Yoongi.

Yoongi looked at the sign the hung on the edge of the play pen. “Holly.”

“So it’s a girl?”

“The sign says it’s a boy. Awww and he’s only two weeks old! So fucking tiny!”

You giggled. “Do you want him?”

“What?”

“Do you want to adopt Holly?”

“I– yes. But would you be okay with that?”

You nodded.

“Oh my god. Then yes, I want this dog more than anything.”

“Okay wait here, I’ll go talk to a worker.”

You returned a couple of minutes later to find Yoongi sitting on the floor, sticking his fingers in the holes of the pen and playing with the little puppy.

“So, I have some bad news.”

Yoongi sighed. “Y/N, always gotta ruin things.”

“Shut up! The worker said Holly is still too young to be adopted, but we can come back in a month and a half or so and if he’s still here we can adopt him.”

“Can we like, preemptively adopt him? Like put him on hold or something?”

“I asked and she said adoptions here don’t work that way since it’s not a shelter. We’re just going to have to come back later and hope for the best.”

You could see Yoongi’s face fall. “Okay.” He stood up. “It was nice knowing you, Holly. Hopefully we can meet again soon.”

“We’ll come back for you, Holly.”

The little dog yapped and hopped with joy, but when the two of you began walking away, he whined and put his head to the floor.

About a month passes and now it’s the present again. Pretending with Yoongi has gotten a lot easier and more comfortable. Your friends have invited you and Yoongi out to septuple dates with their girlfriends, and you genuinely have fun.

But having a month pass means it’s now February, and everyone knows what dreaded holiday comes in February.

You fling yourself onto the couch right next to where Yoongi is sitting. “So it’s Valentine’s Day next week.”

“And?”

“And are we going to do something special?”

Yoongi makes a disgusted face. You grimace at his grimace.

“Come on! Jungkook will definitely think something is up if we don’t post something cute on Instagram,” you whine.

For the last month, even when your friends didn’t invite you and Yoongi out to do stuff with them, you still took pictures of the two of you together to keep up appearances on social media. Yoongi was surprisingly good at it, knowing exactly how to pose or what caption to write to get a reaction out of people. Everyone seems to love sharing their relationship with the world, and Valentine’s Day is the prime time to do so, so it would definitely be odd if you and Yoongi didn’t do something sickeningly romantic for the special day.

“How about we just get one of those long candles and light it next to a rose and take a picture of that, then we can go back to living our lives like normal? Most of social media is fake anyway, so I don’t see why we actually have to do something special instead of just pretending we did.”

“Ooh! What if I get a bunch of rose petals and sprinkle them from the front door to your room? And then I caption it something like, ‘Came home from class and was greeted with this, *suggestive emoji*.’”

“No! No offense, but I don’t want to imply that I’m having sex with you.”

“We’re dating, it’s already implied.”

Yoongi’s face twists. “How long are we going to keep this up, anyway? I’m not going to fake date you forever.”

“Oh my god!” You exclaim, ignoring his question. “I’ve got it!”

“What?” Yoongi asks, his tone fearful.

“The pet store has discounted pet adoptions on Valentine’s Day.”

“Okay…”

“Let’s adopt Holly together!”

Yoongi’s eyes light up, but he tries to contain his excitement when he says, “So you’re serious about it? You really want to adopt a dog together?”

“Of course! I’ve always wanted a dog.”

Your roommate raises an eyebrow. “You never said anything.”

“Because I didn’t know you liked dogs.”

“So, you’re actually serious about this?” He asks again, just to be absolutely sure.

“Yes, Yoongi! I am 100% serious.”

He jumps up and gives you a big hug, squeezing you so hard that you almost can’t breathe.

That Valentine’s Day, you and Yoongi walk into your apartment with a new addition to your family. Yoongi insisted on holding him on the car ride home, and wouldn’t even let you hold him in the elevator ride up to the apartment. He is still cradling the small, brown puppy even after you’re inside, where it’s safe to let him run around.

“Hold right there,” you tell Yoongi after you both take your shoes off, with Yoongi struggling because he still will not let go of Holly the entire time. “Let me take a picture for Instagram.”

Yoongi holds up Holly so that he’s obscuring his face.

“No! We need to see your face!”

Yoongi sighs and lowers the little animal.

“Great, now kiss him.”

Yoongi puckers his lips and brings it closer to the curly brown fur.

“Perfect!” You snap the photo and post it to Instagram, captioning it, Father and his brand new son. Happy Valentine’s Day, babe *heart eye emoji*.“Cuuuute!” You exclaim.

“I know I am, but how’s Holly look?”

You give your fake boyfriend an exasperated look.

“I can’t believe we have a puppy now!” Squeal isn’t exactly the right word to describe how Yoongi says it, but it’s a pretty close description.

“I know right? We’re parents now.”

Yoongi plops himself on the floor and lies on his back. Holly hops around him, leaping across his legs and stomach. The feeling that you experienced in the pet store when Yoongi first met Holly returns, and you are filled with an inexplicable fondness. You get down on the floor and join them, and when you look at Yoongi, he smiles at you.

“Thank you, Y/N. I am so happy right now.”

“You’re welcome, Yoongi. I am too.”

A couple of weeks later, you come home after a rough shift at work. There was a huge dance contest going on at school tonight and afterwards a lot of the spectators flocked to the nearest boba shop– which happened to be the one you worked at. The line was long, the store was crowded and loud, and it didn’t help that your manager was yelling at all of the workers to put out drinks faster. At the end of the night, you had to turn some customers down so that you could close up shop, and a few of them weren’t too happy about that.

You’re exhausted when you step through your front door, your feet are sore and your muscles tense. When you enter, you see Yoongi sprawled on the couch as always, your nostrils assaulted with a pungent odor, quite a juxtaposition to the sickenly sweet smell of the boba shop.

You let out an exasperated sigh. “How many times have I told you not to smoke inside?”

“I wasn’t smoking.” Yoongi shifts his bloodshot eyes back and forth.

“I smelled weed the second I walked in the door.” You saunter over to the screen door that leads to the balcony and pull it open to let in some fresh air.

“That’s….. a skunk got in here.” His voice is mellow in a way that confirms your suspicions.

You cross your arms and give him an incredulous look. “A skunk?”

“Yeah.”

“We live on the third floor in the middle of the city. There are no skunks here,” you scoff. “Raccoons, I would believe, but not skunks.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“At least share, will you?” You drop your aching body onto the couch next to him, resting most of your weight against Yoongi.

“Since when do you smoke?” He asks.

“I don’t usually. I get a really bad case of the munchies when I do. One time I smoked at Jungkook’s place and ended up eating six of those spicy cup noodles. My intestines were not happy afterward.”

Yoongi chuckles. He then pulls a blunt out of his pocket and lights it for you. You put it up to your lips and smoke it.

“Who’s smoking in the house now?” he teases.

You shake your head. “Where’s Holly?” You ask, ignoring his silly rhetorical question. You shift so that your head is now resting on his chest.

“He’s in my room sleeping. All he does is sleep.”

“Of course, he’s a puppy. He’s still growing.” You pass Yoongi the blunt and he takes a hit before passing it back to you.

“I love him so much.”

“I know you do.”

“He’s so small.” Yoongi remarks, except it comes out more like a whine.

“I know he is.”

He notices that you’re not being your characteristically talkative self, which leads him to suspect something is wrong. “Rough shift?”

“Mhm.” You nod with your head still resting on your roommate’s chest.

He slings his arm lazily across your shoulder. “Want to talk about it?”

You take another long drag from the blunt. “Nope,” you exhale.

Just as before, your cravings set in about thirty minutes later. You haven’t eaten since before your six hour shift, and you're now starving.

“Oh my god I want pancakes!!!!” You wail, springing up from your where your head rested on Yoongi’s lap. “I want pancakes so bad.” Your stomach grumbles at the thought of the fluffy stacks of cinnamon swirl pancakes that they serve at the Pancake Shack, lathered in thick, golden maple syrup, and smothered with butter.

“Y/N, it’s 2 in the morning. Everything is closed now.” Yoongi is always one to burst your bubble.

"But I want Pancake Shack!"

"Pancake Shack is closed."

“Make me pancakes!!!!!”

“I am not making you pancakes.”

“But I want pancakes!! Like so bad. I think I might die.”

“You may be the only person who gets more high-strung when you smoke.” Yoongi doesn't budge.

You pout at him.

Finally, he resigns. “Fine, I’ll make you pancakes.”

“Thanks, Yoongi.” You hug him and rest your head on his shoulder. The two of you lock eyes and your gaze lingers for longer than it should, and for a second, your heart stops. The intensity of the moment startles you and you pull away from him. “You know what. It’s late. Never mind, you don’t have to make me pancakes.”

“Y/N, I don’t mind if you really want me to.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s okay. I should go to bed. I have class in the morning.”

“Okay, if you say so.” Yoongi raises an eyebrow. You were just insisting that he make you pancakes. What made you change your mind so suddenly?

You get up off the couch and make your way to your room.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he calls after you.

“Goodnight, Yoongi.”

Jungkook: hey jieun just broke up with me :’( can you come over?

You get the text late at night, a couple of days later. You’re already in your pajamas and getting ready for bed. But still, you don’t hesitate, because Jungkook is your best friend, and you could really use something to take your mind off of the forbidden feelings you’re starting to develop for Yoongi.

You: yeah i’ll be there in 10

“Hey.” Jungkook greets you with a sad smile when he opens the door to his apartment. His hair is a mess and he’s also wearing his pajamas.

You return the greeting and enter. “How are you holding up?” You ask him.

“Honestly, a lot better than I thought I’d be. I’m not as heartbroken as I expected.”

His place is a one bedroom studio apartment, so inside is just his bed, desk, kitchen, bathroom, and video game system. It’s cozy, and the two of you have had many heartfelt talks here. You used to come here whenever you wanted peace and quiet when you still had two other roommates at your old place.

“Why did you call me over? I thought you’d be a mess.” You kick off your shoes and jump onto the bed.

Jungkook shrugs as he sinks down next to you. “You’re my best friend. I just wanted someone to talk to.”

“Well, I’m here for you. Whatever you have to say. Whatever you want to talk about.”

He smiles at you. “Thanks, Y/N. How are you and Yoongi doing?”

“We’re alright.”

“I can tell he really likes you.”

You sigh, wondering if now is a good time to break the news to your best friend. What are you really waiting for? Why keep this going? Who does it benefit? “Jungkook, I have to tell you something.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow.

You take a deep breath. “It’s fake. My entire relationship with Yoongi is fake. We were never actually dating.”

“I don’t believe that.” He shakes his head.

But it’s the truth.

Jungkook shakes his head again. “No. I know you both really care for each other. I can tell your feelings for each other are real.”

You remain silent. You and Yoongi have definitely grown closer in the last two months, especially after the two of you adopted Holly together, and you were having some feelings toward him, but you knew Yoongi didn’t feel the same. In the beginning, he made it explicitly clear that he had absolutely no romantic feelings toward you. Just last year, you two had The Talk about not being attracted to each other.

“You guys even adopted a dog together for god’s sake. You don’t just do that with anyone.”

Still you say nothing.

“That was real right? That dog is yours?”

You nod.

Jungkook runs his fingers through his hair. “I’m not going to brag, but I knew it was fake at the beginning, especially because it lasted more than a week, which is some sort of record for you.”

“Shut up.”

“But as time went on, I could tell you were growing to like each other, genuinely.”

You shake your head, still refusing to believe it. “He’s a Pisces, though. Aries aren’t good with Pisces.”

“Stop making excuses, Y/N. I think you should talk to him. Sort this out.”

"I may have feelings for him, but I'm positive he doesn't feel the same way about me." You grab one of Jungkook’s pillows and fiddle with a loose thread on the pillow case.

Jungkook sees what you’re doing and takes the pillow away from you, setting it down on the side of the bed that you can’t reach. "If you think that way, then you should end it. It's not fair for the both of you.”

You sigh deeply, knowing he’s right. “I thought we were here to talk about you.”

“We were. But I feel much better now, having my best friend with me.”

You give him a half hearted smile.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Jungkook.”

He holds out his arms. “Come here.”

You crawl forward and give him a firm hug.

“Can I, like, at least practice in front of you? Because I have absolutely no idea how to approach this.”

“Of course. Anything you need, I'm here for you.”

You squeeze him a bit tighter. "Thank you, Jungkook."

The next night, you pace back and forth in your room, trying to figure out how you're going to bring it up to Yoongi. He's right on the other side of the door, on the couch, watching TV and petting Holly, as usual, and can probably hear you burning a hole in the carpet. You take a deep breath. It’s time. But what if he’s not watching TV anymore? What if he’s studying or doing homework? You shuffle over to your door, slowly cracking it open and peeking your head out.

He’s still exactly where he was when you got home earlier. Doesn’t he have things to do? Why is he always watching TV? You then realize that you just want an excuse for him to be too busy to talk, so you can avoid this conversation and postpone it for another time. Another time when you’re more prepared, when you’re older, and therefore wiser. But for some reason all the signs (really, just Jungkook) are telling you to do it now, providing you with the perfect opportunity, the perfect setup for you to break up with your fake boyfriend. Nothing like the present, right? You just gotta do it. Rip it off like a bandaid.

Apprehensively, you tiptoe out of your room. "Hey, Yoongi, I need to talk to you."

He turns his head toward you. “What’s up? What’s wrong?” His brows furrow when he notices your unease.

You walk over to the couch and sit down next to him. "Nothing’s really wrong, per se. But we do need to end this fake relationship."

“Well, it’s about time.” He sighs and picks up Holly from his lap and places him onto the floor. “We’ve been going at this for what? Almost two months?”

Your heart drops at his words, feeling like it's shattered into a million pieces. You know he didn’t feel the same way about you, but hearing him confirm it hurts a lot worse than you imagined. So, it really was all just pretend to him? You had been so stupid to let yourself fall for him, and now you have to deal with the consequences.

“I– Wow– has it really been that long?” You force a chuckle, trying your best to hide your disappointment.

“Yeah. It’s about time we start dating for real, right?”

“W– what?” You stutter, completely caught off guard. Out of all the scenarios you thought of, this was not one of them.

“Y/N, don’t tell me you don’t think there’s something between us.”

“I– I do. I just didn’t think you did.”

“Of course I did! Are you really that dense? I wouldn’t have volunteered to make you pancakes at two in the fucking morning if I didn’t.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. You just saved me from a really difficult talk.”

“Were you going to break up with me?”

You nod.

“Did you plan out everything your were going to say? Rehearse it in front of the mirror and everything?”

“No.” You cross your arms in defiance. “I rehearsed it in front of Jungkook.”

Yoongi chuckles and it makes your heart warm. “You got Jungkook to help you?”

“Yeah. Don’t make fun of me.” You pout. “I’m not good at this type of thing.”

“You’ve broken up with plenty of guys before, though.”

“But none that I’ve cared about as much as you.”

Yoongi takes both your hands in his. "Don't worry. You don’t have to."

You feel as if a tremendous weight has been lifted off your chest. "So what now? What's different?"

Yoongi uses his hand to brush aside a stray chunk of hair that had fallen from your ponytail, and then delicately caresses your cheek. "Well, this, for one." He leans in and places a firm kiss on your lips. Yoongi had given you soft kisses on your cheeks and nose when the two of you were just pretending, and for a long time you wondered what it would be like to kiss him for real. Now you know, and it's so much better than you ever imagined.

You know how in those cliche movies, when a couple shares their first kiss, fireworks explode in the background and everyone cheers? That's what it feels like. It feels like every bad date, every disappointing hookup has led to you finding Yoongi. It's like the spring finally arriving and the clouds getting clear after a long, cold winter. Jungkook's right. Who cares if you're an Aries and he's a Pisces? The stars aligned in just the right place for you to find each other.

"And this," Yoongi breathes, softly brushing his hand against your breast and running it along your body until it reaches your thigh, all while still kissing you. "And this."

You squeal as Yoongi's hand moves under your legs and he scoops you up as he stands. You wrap your arms tightly around him, giggling and burying your face in the crook of his neck while he carries you bridal-style to his room.

Holly follows closely by his feet, wanting to follow his parents and see what they're up to. Once Yoongi gets to the threshold of his room, he gently shoos the little puppy away with his foot. "Not now, Holly. It's special mommy and daddy time." He then enters the room, letting the door close behind him.

Epilogue:

“I can’t believe we adopted a dog together. That’s so incredibly stupid. What if we break up?” You slip on your boots and put a harness around Holly, getting ready to take him out for your daily walk.

Yoongi slings on his jacket and shakes his head.  “Y/N. We’re literally getting married next week. I don’t think we’re breaking up any time soon.”

“But you admit that it’s a possibility!”

“I never said that.”

You peek outside the window to see that it’s still drizzling a little bit and grab Holly’s raincoat off the coat rack and put it on him. “There we go, baby.” You then attach Holly’s leash to his harness as Yoongi grabs an umbrella. “Damn, I can’t believe I still like you. I can’t believe you still like me!”

“Hey! How many times do I have to tell you! I have feelings!”

“Yeah, horny.”

“You’re insufferable.”

You step forward to fix the collar of Yoongi’s raincoat. “No, I’m not.”

“You’re right. You’re very right. I love you very much and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” He leans in to kiss you on the nose.

You react by scrunching up your face. “Damn, that’s a long time.”

“You’re not having second thoughts, are you? Do you want to call off the wedding?”

“Of course not! We’ve been planning this for over a year! I definitely still want to marry you!”

“Okay, but I think I want to marry you more.”

“Will you stop that?”

“Stop what? Wanting to marry you? Uhhh… Not possible.”

You get on your tiptoes so that you could kiss him, and while you’re kissing him, Holly starts barking and pawing at your boots. “Okay! Okay, Holly! We’ll take you on your walk now!”

You give Yoongi one last kiss on the lips before the three of you set out into the rain.

A/N: Yoongi and reader’s dynamic is pretty much how one of my old housemates and I used to treat each other (except we never dated, however, we did adopt a fish together). Also this story in no way reflects my opinions on astrology. It’s all light-hearted I promise.

[jxst-saying]

Omg please make a part two of the social media manager imagine!! It’s so good

A/N: Part two has finally arrived! (I wrote this in a four–part mini–series.) You can request part three here like usual! 

[+masterlist]

Part One can be found here! And so can be Part Three! Don’t forget Part Four! 

Empty. A city of nearly four million people felt empty. How that was, you weren’t all that sure. But it didn’t feel like your other city, the one that didn’t sleep and had no mercy for those who did. Sure, the sun was warmer and brighter and the people were obnoxiously friendlier. You wouldn’t bother denying any of that. It was a nice thought to have the ocean as close as it was; it was even nicer to sit on the shoreline and watch the waves come in and out and feel the sand in–between your toes. But staring out at the massive expanse of blue and white, you didn’t feel anything but some kind of emptiness.

This wasn’t your home. It wasn’t anything of the sort. You were in the Golden State, but it felt more like Siberia to you.

Your promised promotion wasn’t half bad. After a month and a half, you had finally fallen into a routine of sorts. Six o’clock in the morning was your short run around the neighborhood block. (You had finally found an apartment, and your furniture was said to be on the way.) Seven o’clock in the morning and you were drinking your black coffee (you could leave the Big Apple, but that didn’t mean the Big Apple could leave you). Eight o’clock and you were stuck in traffic on the 405 (whatever that was) headed to the office. Nine o’clock in the morning and you were sitting at your desk with the pretty little gold–embossed title tag that read, “Public Relations Specialist, Y/N.” You still weren’t too sure what that meant, but maybe it didn’t really matter in the end. Maybe it wasn’t really supposed to mean anything. Ten o’clock in the morning through one o’clock in the afternoon would find you filling out paperwork with a view of the Los Angeles skyline behind you. The windows were floor–to–ceiling and let in all the light that the city could find. Your office was perpetually golden. If you didn’t feel locked in this city, the always golden hue might make you happy. But right now, it didn’t make you feel anything because you did feel locked in this city with its 502.7 square miles. One o’clock was lunch. Always. Your assistant (you had an assistant) tended to remind you of that. After lunch and you were back to work until five o’clock in the evening. Most days, you were let loose at 5:00; only on a handful had you stayed past golden hour. To be honest, you didn’t particularly care either way. If you were out of the office by 5:00, you were hitting the worst of the worst traffic no matter what. If you got out later, around 8:00 or 9:00, you were still hitting traffic on the 405 or the 1 (or anywhere, really) but it wasn’t necessarily as bad.

The boys had a week or so left in their Europe trip. It was entirely promotional. None of them knew anything about your own promotion (read: banishment; exile; prison sentence) as of yet. But it was only a matter of time before the executives told them of your speedy departure. This was the longest you had gone without seeing any of them. If you didn’t constantly see photos of them or news of them crossing your desk day–in and day–out, you might have just forgotten what those oceanic eyes looked like or the (now) blindingly red hair or the tattoos that were littered across their skin. Maybe that would have been better. Besides moving to the other side of the country, it felt like you had lost four of your closest friends. Now, you didn’t even know what the five of you were. Past colleagues? Old friends? Best friends? Acquaintances? Nothing? Something More?

The single had released the other week. Turns out the executives’ plan was well–formulated and entirely correct. Without you in the picture, the music was the only thing to focus on. Billboard’s Top 100 Chart seemed to agree, as well. You even received a fruit basket from the executives thanking you for all your “hard work.” You may or may not have immediately thrown it in the trash.

You had never really missed anything or anyone before. Not really, anyways. So, you had no idea what it felt like––all that aching and longing and heartache. But if this is what it felt like … this complete and utter numbness and not–all–thereness and void that you felt that nothing could ever really fill … you never wanted to feel this again. More importantly, you couldn’t feel this again. To go through all of this time after time after time? That wasn’t negotiable. And you missed it all. You missed the hot–dog vendors and coffee carts on the street that knew you by name in your neighborhood; you missed seeing the light of sunset glinting off the Empire State building; you missed the way your apartment always smelled like patchouli no matter how many air fresheners you used; you missed coming home late at night to find your door already unlocked and a gangly boy (man?) with oceanic eyes sitting on the couch in your living room. How was there any space in that heart of yours for all of this missing?

And sitting in your office just now with the Los Angeles skyline behind you and the desert fanning out even beyond that, you had never felt more missing or more alone.

+

On the other side of the globe, the situation wasn’t that much different. (At least, not with a certain band front–man named Luke.) They were in Rome for the weekend––La Città dell’Amore. But to Luke, it was just another city. Another place without you in it. A little over a month and a half without seeing any sort of vision of you and it felt like some kind of earthly hell. The melody of your (slightly obnoxious) laugher was better than any tarantella; your eyes were brighter than the Roman sun; and your crooked smile was warmer than the Mediterranean Sea. However, these were all things he had to keep to himself; in some way, they were things he had always been keeping to himself.

The Roman sun was just beginning to set. A bead of sweat was falling down the nape of his neck in between his scapula. Luke didn’t even notice as he walked past La Fontana di Trevi. He wasn’t noticing anymore. Everything was a kind of blur, like when you’re driving on the highway and the lights are speeding away too quickly and bleeding together into one continuous stream of light.

Unlike you, Luke was more focused than anything on the rumors about the two of you. (Well, now, the blatant lack thereof.) He remembered all the photos, all the memories, all the times spent with you. Each and every one. And maybe that was his own personal curse, some kind of karmic retribution for an err in a past life. But standing there in that historical and ancient and miraculous city and all he could think about was you. But it wasn’t anything romantic. No. Of course not. You were just his best friend. Hell, you were their social media manager! He was just used to having you around; that was all. Really.

So, yeah. He noticed when the rumors careened to a complete stop like they had never existed. Seemingly overnight, any and all mention of you anywhere vanished without a trace. Zilch. Nada. Only a couple fans noticed your disappearance from the crew of the four boys. (Luke, included.) What was even odder than your farewell at JFK was your near radio silence since. No personal social media usage, no phone calls or texts, not even a postcard with that ever–so cliché wish you were here.

It took Luke another forty–three minutes to traipse his way back to their hotel off La Piazza Barberini but only another minute after that for the other three boys to open their mouths in rapid–fire questions.

“Did you know that Y/N moved to Los Angeles?” Calum.

“Speaking of Y/N, why isn’t she here? She’s our social media manager. Isn’t this literally her job?” Michael.

“I called her apartment and office in NYC and she wasn’t at either. The person who answered her phone at the office didn’t even know who I was calling for. Luke, where is she?” Ashton.

Luke collapsed onto the bed. NYC was their city; how could she just up and leave and head to a city that was the complete opposite? He knew the streets of her neighborhood and that apartment better than even his own. She couldn’t just leave like that––not without a goodbye to him, to that apartment, to that city, to their memories. “I didn’t know anything.”

“Is she even our social media manager anymore? You said she wasn’t at her office or apartment. And she moved,” Michael asked Ashton.

Luke shrugged his shoulders.

“Come on,” Calum egged. “Everyone thought the two of you were dating. Hell, even we did sometimes! Did you really not know any of this?”  

Yes, he really didn’t know any of this. He really didn’t know that the last night he spent in that apartment would be his last. Forever. He really didn’t know that the last time they couldn’t sleep at four in the morning and went to Central Park for a breakfast picnic was The Last Time. He really didn’t know that everything with you in that city of yours (of the two of yours) was going to be The Last Time.

“Have you––have you talked to her? Lately?” Michael asked tentatively, his words cautious.

“No.”

“Don’t you think you should? I don’t know, maybe see if she’s alright? Why she moved, maybe?” Ashton.

“Moving takes time. She probably just wants some space to figure it all out. That’s probably what she’s doing: figuring it out,” Luke answered. An excuse, that was all it was. Just something to delay the inevitable.

And that was definitely what it was: Inevitable. Because that night when Michael, Calum, and Ashton had long since fallen asleep (he could hear their snores), Luke pulled his phone out from underneath his pillow and opened the long since used text message conversation with you.

To: Luke Hemmings

if you don’t delete that last tweet of urs i swear to GOD i’ll drop kick your ass onto the tarmac

A small smile curled onto his face at the memory. But that text was written nearly two months ago at this point and all that was left between you both now was the distance from Rome to NYC and then the newly added distance of NYC to LAX.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard of the cellphone. All it took was something like hi, right? Any baby step. Just one. That was all he needed.

Actually, no. What he needed was to be told why she left their city. That was what he needed.

To: Y/N

heard u left the big apple how u gonna do ur job now

It wasn’t long before his phone lit up in the dead of night with a response.

To: Luke Hemmings

It’s 1:14 in the morning for you. Go to bed. Get some sleep. You have meetings in the morning.

To: Y/N

answer my question

To: Luke Hemmings

Yes, I moved to L.A. I’m about to go into a meeting. I’ll talk to you later. Go to sleep.

There was something different in your tone. Something more professional, distancing. Something that definitely did not sound anything like the Y/N that Luke knew. The girl was texting him now was not the same girl that he left behind at JFK a couple months ago; this version of you was a stranger. And that was a thought that haunted both his dreams and nightmares, waking or otherwise.

The minutes ticked by at a glacial pace until he looked at the red numbers on the clock at the bedside and discovered that it was only 2:09 in the morning. It hadn’t even been one hour. A long night, that was what it was going to be. And maybe that was what gave Luke the initiative (read: desperation) to call your number at obscene hours in the morning for him but just the beginning hours of the evening for you.

The phone rang four times before you answered.

“Go to sleep,” were the first words out of your mouth.

“I thought you were going into a meeting.”

“It got cancelled.”

“There was no meeting, was there? Y/N, what’s going on? You’re not here with us; you apparently moved out of NYC; you don’t even work at that office anymore; you’re in LA. What is going on with you? You tell me everything, and all of a sudden, I’m getting nothing from you? What’s that all about?”

He could hear you sigh through the phone. It was the frustrated one, the kind that you used to give when you had to repeat your Chinese food order five times over the phone because the sixteen–year–old taking the orders was too busy flirting with her boyfriend across the counter. “It’s really not important, Luke. I just had a change in careers. I’m still working for the same firm, just at their Los Angeles headquarters. It’s not a big deal. You’ll be getting a new social media manager, and they’ll be taking over for me.”

“What is going on?” Luke asked again. You weren’t answering any of his questions; you weren’t helping him understand anything. You were still the stranger that he didn’t know.

“It’s really not that big of a deal, Luke. Trust me. This is better for the band in the long run. Your music streams and sales have been up nearly 93%, and your promotional events over in Europe seem to be doing just the trick. This is good, Luke. If it’s good for the band, it’s good for you.”

But that wasn’t the case. That wasn’t any sort of Truth at all. What was good for the band in any sort of PR sense, if it broke the two of you apart, was not good for him. How could you even think that? Luke didn’t understand how you could go from that old farewell at JFK to this cold–as–ice behavior that he was getting from you now. He remembered it much too clearly. Leaving you just before the first security checkpoint of JFK. It was more painful than the others. Not terribly so, but just enough. There was some sort of look in your eye, something he hadn’t seen before and something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Your mouth opened just a fraction of an inch, enough for Luke to think you were going to say something. But no words came out and the two of you were left in the silence with Calum yelling out in the distance for Luke to “hurry up and get his ass in line.” So, he left you with the haphazard and friendly farewell of see you later, alligator and you responded with a sort of forlorn smile, the kind that has some sadness lingering behind it or a secret or two, and in a while, crocodile. He turned around, then, grabbing his suitcase and duffle bag and walked back toward his bandmates in line. But six steps in the line and he was turning back around to take one last look at you, something to memorize and store at the back of his memory. This was a first of sorts. You weren’t coming along with them. You were staying behind. And in Luke’s mind, he was leaving you behind; right now, that felt a lot more painful than he thought it ever would.

With that memory in mind, Luke spoke his own truth before he could lose his nerve and before he could accept whatever it was you were telling him. “You don’t really think that, right? That whatever’s good for those guys in suits and their profit margins is good for me is good for the band? There’s no way you genuinely think that’s the truth, right? Y/N, it’s different without you here. It isn’t the same. I don’t … I don’t like it. I don’t like you there and me here.”

“You land in JFK in a few days. You’ll be fine and stateside then. Enjoy your last few days in Italy. La città è bellisima––”

“Y/N, you don’t––you don’t get it! It’s not the same without you here. I don’t know how many different ways I can say that! It’s not the same without you here. You need to be here; not some other social media manager, not anyone else. Just you. Is this because of all the rumors about the two of us?” (Maybe his heart fell a little at that possibility.) “Because if it is, they’re a non–issue now. No one’s talking about us anymore. It’s really not that big of a deal. Just––if it’s that, if it’s because of the rumors, then tell me. I didn’t think they were really getting to you that much, but if that’s what this is––”

“I took care of the rumors, Luke. I did. That’s why they’re all gone. I’m in Los Angeles because they’re all gone. For your music, for your band, for you—that’s what I did. That’s what I had to do. I know the rumors are a non–issue, Luke. I know because I made them a non–issue.”

For once, Luke had nothing to say.

And then you sighed again. That same one. The frustrated one. Maybe mixed with a little sadness this time. “Luke, I really have to go. I have a meeting. You have to get some sleep.”

Click.

+

REQUEST PART THREE! 

[smolbeandrabbles]

Makin’ Waves - Fraser x Reader (Black Sea)

Part 3 of #TheRetcon:  Quit Breaking Up With Me / Keep The Girl

GIF CREDIT: X

Author’s Note: I’ve been mentioning my GIF usage a lot lately but... I really LOVE this one. I mean like... I can just think about lying with him and just that quiet understanding staring... and then talking to each other and I just...  I’m sorry! I Digress! Here we are! Part 3 of 4!  Disclaimer: I own nothing from Black Sea / I mixed up about 5 different places for where they are on holiday but it’s solidly based on Marbella  Premise: Back from Russia with a hefty amount of Gold, Fraser begins to decide how to spend it. The answer is obvious... Words: 7890 Warnings: Pre-Amble / Sex (Edges into Smut maybe a little) / Swearing 

________ We found paradise right here tonight a little off shore And a pair of eyes lookin' into mine that's gonna lead to more Gonna lead to us a little later on clothes on the floor So hold on tight cuz... Sangria kiss I won't forget, you know the kind that lingers on your lips When you wake up in the morning Yeah we set it motion... There's no signs of slowin' it down... We got the weekend wakin' Up on the bank, it's breakin' Got nothin’ slow on the radio Ain't just those speakers shakin' As soon as that sun starts fadin' I'll be the arms she lays in That girl is amazing And we just love makin' waves We got the anchor down We got the music loud We gonna party as long as we want 'Cause there ain't nobody around ---

Something wasn’t sitting quite right with you. Not quite. Everything about seeing the boys home made sense. It did. The ones still there, one ones not. (Minus the banker. You’d make sense of that in your own time. Collateral? The only man who knew what was really going on – someone had funded this. Possibly his boss. It made sense to bring him home. Kinda.) But there was one little thing niggling at you. You pulled the car over, engine still running. Your hands tapped the steering wheel and you bit your lips together; Fraser looked around the car like he’d missed something. “Y/N… What’s wrong?” You looked to him; “Why… Why was there an 18 year old kid from Liverpool on a Russian sub in the first place? What reasons did Tobin have to be there-!?” “Oh-! Well… Kurston…” Fraser began to explain, but as he did so you reached across him, opening the glove box again and scrabbling around for paper and a pen “…Told Robinson all about it, and then killed himself… Tobin delivered Robinson the news… I guess we were just desperate to have the right number of men so Tobin got pulled into it. If Gittens didn’t die I wouldn’t have had to pull him into Diving…” He paused “Are you mad at me?” Even your scribbled handwriting was neat, Fraser raised an eyebrow at what exactly you were writing however; “…But why would you accept something like that? Does he have a family…? And of course I’m not mad at you. You needed three divers. He could dive…” “Well we didn’t exactly all sit down and talk about our lives… But I wouldn’t assume so… Sleeping rough? I’d say he needs that money like we all do – as for family… I can tell you he has family coming. I mean he’s having a kid so. Yeah… family… But maybe not… the kind of family you’re talking about.” You folded the note in half and held it out to him; “Give him one.” Fraser took the note – address and phone number – without hesitation “Us? A pretty girl from London and an Australian psychopath? That’s one hell of a family.” “Just… he can come whenever he wants or needs to… he can call when he needs to. Invite him for dinner too. That’s what people do, right?” “Are we adopting this kid now?” He grinned “He’s a diver too. So… I feel like of all the people who are going to look after him, see him straight.” “Think Robinson thinks he’s got that covered.” The sarcasm that dripped from your voice couldn’t be understated; “Oh. Yeah, cuz we know what happened with Robinson’s family.” “Y/N…!” He shook his head at you and then laughed, “Okay. I’ll go invite him…” But he allowed himself to stare at you for a few more seconds, before smiling and ruffling your hair; “You’re too good a person.” He opened the car door and slipped out. Making you laugh and call after him; “WELL - ! Someone’s gotta look after you both-!” *** “So where do I need to run it...” You ran your hands through your hair and muttered to yourself for a second before sighing “God this feels like insider trading... call the number I gave you, tell them everything you can about the gold. They’ll log a case - it’ll be sent through and be picked up by someone who will then begin the processing. Once that’s done they will offer you a price... and if you agree the price they’ll transfer the money through - probably - and send a security vehicle to pick up the gold. It’s usually a simultaneous action...” “How is that insider trading?” “Your partner works for the company you’re sending it too.” “You’re not getting something from this though?” You gave a shrug, technically not, it would be his. But you’d still be in his life, there was still a personal connection here. “Eh, I dunno, the money goes to you but I’m here.” “...Just quit it. I’m using your company. That’s final. Fraser trusted you. Which meant he trusted where you worked. He had a choice in this you supposed. You just hoped it wouldn’t end up on someone’s paper trail... These days anything could happen.

 Still, Fraser home was about the best thing to happen in years. He was unusually quiet about this trip. But he also liked revelling in you and was quite content to stay quietly at home. You didn’t mind too much, if he was there at least he was keeping out of trouble and therefore prison. He was making you late again though - and had no remorse for that. And your boss could tell her was back more than a few days in; “Fraser’s back, isn’t he?” “Oh god it’s that obvious!?” He gave a knowing little smile “Work from home a few days if you need to... that’s totally fine. He’s home. You should enjoy that.” So you accepted, but you couldn’t say you got a lot done when working from home either.

Miraculously today you weren’t even on time but early into the office. And had already finished one report by the time Tobias, your boss, walked in. “Hold on...” he pointed at you “What happened..?” “Nothing!” “He’s not gone back out already has he-!?” “No!” You laughed, but decided a moment later to bite back on that, that was the last thing you wanted right now. He peered at your screen “No, you’re right no charts to be found... fancied being productive?” “Yes, in fact!” “Good!” Then he looked even more surprised as you handed the report over “Here you are.” “Suspiciously productive, Y/N!” He tapped the side of your desk with a smile and walked off, looking back every so often to jokingly tell you he was keeping his eyes on you. But not close enough. And pretty soon you were making your way to a different operations department and sitting on the desk of a great colleague of yours; “I have a request for you.” Gareth’s eyes flicked up, suspiciously “Go on...” “How many trades you got going on?” “Shouldn’t you be asking the LME floors that...? Got a couple, slow going... kinda meandering.” “So, you have capacity?” He folded his arms and sat back in his chair, trying to take a measure of you; “What’s up? You know I can’t give you any information.” “I know but I also trust you to handle it with integrity.” “But it’s between me and the client and I’m not doing them any favours.” “Just look out for something for me, will you?” “I’m all ears... but if it gets grabbed by someone else it’s out of my hands... interesting?” “Russian gold from an abandoned submarine that was on its way to the Nazis.” He blew out a breath at your deadly seriousness; “Sounds like a museum piece... Geez... how much?” “Don’t know. I’ve heard the casual figure of £2 million flashed around but I don’t know enough to say that’s for sure.” “... It’ll be done on authenticity and purity... hammer and sickle works?” “As far as I know.” You had literally no idea, and didn’t want to know any more than you had to Gareth whistled; “Well, that’s certainly something worth being part of the process on... who am I looking for.” “His name’s Fraser.” “What is he to you?” “Best we don’t say right?” “Right. But also, Y/N, regulation would state you should declare or it would be even worse if they find you out.” “To whom must I declare?” “To my boss. At the very least!” You nodded, you knew Aimee relatively well; “And you don’t owe me.” “Certainly not.” You patted his shoulder “Thanks Gareth - tell me when y- No... forget it don’t even tell me that...!”

 Two days later, you got a call to go back down to Gareth’s desk. Which you thought was against the rules, but you went down anyway. And he looked both elated and bemused. “What?” “Is this the diver guy you’ve been with for 10 years?” “No comment.” “He’s possibly one of the most interesting men I’ve ever met...” You raised an eyebrow and could think of many questions to ask, opting instead to get to the point. “You’re not here to tell me that.” “Who told you £2 million, it’s bullshit.” “... In a good way?” “In a very good way. We couldn’t even value it, had to get one of the museum distributors out...” “Oh my god.” “If he worked that damn hard for it he deserves what he’s getting believe me. I just wanted you to know that it’s a big figure, so, if this is the guy you’re with, I hope you’ve damn well told the people you’re meant to.” You leant against his desk; “I followed protocol. It still feels wrong talking about it like this…” “Well it’s massive - we can’t not...! Congrats!” “Geez, he needs it. I know that...” “Yeah I bet... I just got the valuation back, I’m about to send over... so, if he signs...” Gareth gave a shrug “It’ll all be worth the effort. And I’d sign...” “Shut up!” “Well just if he comes to you...” “He should go to you... I don’t even want to know the amount...” “Good! Keep completely out of it.” “Fair price?” “No rates necessary - they aren’t playing him. I’ve made sure of that, that’s why you asked me. I know...” “Thanks Gareth I-“ “Hey-! You don’t owe me, okay! Don’t even think it..!” He turned back to his computer “Though-! If something comes up on your floor I’m always interested!” You laughed “I’ll keep it in mind!” *** You knew the second that cheque came through though, because the door was barely open before he was running to you; “Y/N!” “Oh-! God-! Okay-! Hold on, let me get through the door…!” “Have you ever-! I’ve never-! I---!” He waved the paper for a minute “I… I…” “I’m not sure I wanna know how much you’re worth… What happened…?” “Oh…” he indicated to the door; “They brought a big armoured van around and put it all in there… I think some of it could be going to the museum too… That guy seemed very interested. Do you think I coulda got more on the black market, I mean…” “I have it on authority they aren’t playing you…” you rolled your eyes “And god forbid you do anything legally.” Fraser laughed; “I just… I can’t…” He pulled you to him and placed your hand over his heart; “What even… is… I just…” “Breathe!” You giggled “Did they tell you what happens next?” “Oh… yeah!” He still kept your hand in his as he pulled you into the kitchen, gathering another piece of paper “I take this cheque and this letter to the bank. Apparently the letter is very important. And I guess it all clears and the money is mine.” “Well, what does it say?” “I dunno, looks like jargon to me.” “Yeah, and a diving manual would look like jargon to anyone else…” You held your hand out for it and he gave it over. Although you realised your mistake instantly as your eyes widened. “Sorry-! That’s nearly 21 mil-!” You stopped yourself and looked across to him “Who the hell said two!?” He gave a shrug “That was the ballpark, grossly underestimated.” You turned back to the paper and read it; “I’m gonna go with you, you better take every form of ID you have an be on your best behaviour.” Fraser tiled his head like the notion of him behaving otherwise was foreign to him; “I’m always on my best behaviour. You folded your arms and raised an eyebrow, amused as you were you couldn’t help it; “Oh yeah? Wanna tell that to your criminal record?” *** You'd never seen Fraser look so excited. You also hadn't seen him bounce off the walls like this since you used to dive together - and it was easy for you to realised how much you missed it.

This time it was about money though; as his cheque came through for the gold - he might just have held his breath until it cleared... And then he really was allowed to think about what he could do with the money.

"Just be sensible..." "Sensible was always my first thought..." He gave a smile "I'm taking you away." You were between raising your eyebrow in confusion and the sweet ‘aww...’ You felt at him telling you the very first thing he wanted to do was go on holiday with you. "...You want..." You couldn't keep level headed about that - and relapsed into a wide grin that wouldn't disappear. "I know just the place... But you have to promise to dive with me." You looked back to those beautiful blue eyes pleading with you. "Not too deep." "Sweetheart, I know your limit... I just need you to do this with me... Please..." You walked over slowly and took his hands in yours; "Baby... Of course I will... Now go on." You gave a wink "And tell me nothing but the dates." He tipped his head, with a disbelieving smile "Oh? You trust me?" You thought it was a silly question, but humoured him anyway, pulling yourself into him you brushed your lips to his "...With my life..."

 **

 He did remarkably well. And you knew exactly where he'd got the idea from. Every so often if Fraser was out at sea your friends would take you away themselves to make sure you weren't all alone in your house for a long period of time. Even though Fraser wasn't massive on his social media - you knew he always saw the pictures, because he always asked where you had been.

 Fraser had been planning something like this for so long. Sure, he could get paid for diving usually - but that didn't mean that on occasion the two of you didn't scrape by. It wasn't like he was getting work anywhere else. Your lifestyles weren't exactly lavish - you were just conscious savers. And that was before he thought about any time he was in prison or picking up fines. And he wasn't happy with you paying for everything either. But if he wasn't taking you diving (which since your accident had been a few times but nowhere near as many times as he wanted), or he was allowed to take you on a job (also occasionally they'd allow spouses to come), Fraser hadn't been able to take you on holiday.

 But he could now. And he could give you clear, warm, tropical seas that would hardly put your skills to the test - but that you would be more than happy to dive in. The white sugar sand just off the promenade made everything picture perfect - and even though he was holding hands with you as you walked, Fraser knew you were somewhere out there. And he got to watch that for himself this time. The hotel had a number of private flats that overlooked the beach and each had its own private strip. There were other couples you'd both interacted with around the resort, but it was so out of season that everything seemed deserted. So you revelled in how much alone time you got with him - and that he could enjoy the beach, for once.

 You liked just being in his company for so long - there was no threat of him being called away out here, and even less threat of prison. For which you were extremely thankful. Even on the flight out you'd got to curl up with him and wind yourself around his arm in a way you hadn't for nearly 5 years. And he knew how significant that was; leaning his head on yours and running his thumb over the back of your hand soothingly. That was good for him too, in fact, this whole break was good for him. Fraser got to occupy himself with just about everything. There wasn't a day yet where he hadn't been up before you and wandered back into the bedroom with a smile "Hey! Y/N! I've been thinking we could do this today... I just went up to the hotel and they said..." "...Honey, whatever you want, just come back to bed for a bit - yeah?" And so he did, often.   Then you got to revel in him in a different way for a little bit.

 Today you'd managed to persuade him not to drag you out of bed so early, so you could spend the day on the beach. Which meant you actually woke up before he did; but you didn't move. Why would you when he looked like this?

Fraser's name shouldn't really ever have been uttered in the same sentence as 'calm' - because he didn't have a calm setting. He was high energy, when he was sat still... Well, he was never still. Something always had to be going on, either with objects in his hands, or with how fast he would talk. Fraser needed something to stim with, and that was how the knife had started – other than it obvious utility – only, now that was somewhere in the Black Sea, you guessed. That was about as "calm" as it got. And because you ran on a wavelength similar, that's how you had always ended up in fights. No matter how 'in the past' that notion was. Because Fraser didn't wind up; Fraser just snapped. And that was a hard thing to deal with if you didn't know him well. Which also pissed you off about him spending half his life on a claustrophobic container in the depths of the ocean. Fraser noticed when he was on that edge and he could talk himself down. But in the process of doing so, if you irritated him again he would cross that line. And Fraser over that line was never merciful.

 It was a line you'd witnessed him cross enough, but you'd only crossed it once. Fraser could get angry and hate you - but you'd never ever been on the receiving end of a dangerous and violent psychotic episode. Nope - you'd crossed that line diving. Because you were still a teenager when you'd met him, and you were still a teenager when you'd become dive partners. And thought you were both invincible and too old to be told what to do by someone clearly more experienced. Your snap backs to every careful comment he made were on occasion downright rude; and he had every right to go off on one after telling you multiple times to stop. Because there was nothing Fraser cared more about than the people he dived with. So, you learned the hard and fast way that Fraser screaming at you over a comlink on the sea bed wasn't exactly your idea of a good time. (Yes, you'd been good at pushing his buttons back then too.) But by the time you surfaced he'd calmed down to a more manageable level of mad, and decided he'd rather not talk to you for three days than do that again. But it scared you enough to let you know to never do it again. And also had you learning a lot more about him. Now here you were. Ironically the only other time in your entire life you hadn't listened to him you had been hurt, but it had let to him laying here with you now. So that didn't feel all that bad.

 So sleeping with one arm tucked up under his head and the other reaching across the bed so that his hand grazed your stomach, yes, Fraser looked calm. You took the hand on your skin in your own and kissed his fingertips delicately. You realised a long time ago how hard it was to repay this man for saving your life. Staying by his side through everything and trying to protect him from the world seemed like an agreeable thing to do. Even though sometimes you thought that's what he was trying to do for you. "I love you..." You shook your head gently; "And even I don't think I realise how much..."

 **

 The beach meant only one thing to Fraser. Ice Cream. No beach visit was complete without it; and when he'd announced that to you in his strong Australian accent, you knew it was the Britishness in him talking. "Oh. We converted you somewhere along the way then?" He gave a smart shrug "I guess!" It was about the only thing he enjoyed when you would drag him to a beach in the UK - because half the time he would grumpy about the amount of people. High energy yes, but social? No way in hell. You and The Boys. That was Frasers social group, and in all honesty the only one he wanted. He only hung out with your own friends on occasion because his status as your partner demanded it of him. So, ice-cream it was. And you were surprised how long you had to sit and wait for him to return, considering the lack of people out here. Maybe he'd just had to walk a long way for it. Maybe he'd stopped to admire the sea... You hoped you hadn't missed that...

"Can you believe it?!" Was how he announced his return, holding the cup of ice-cream up "Even all the way out here they still use these stupid plastic spoons!!" Fraser settled back next to you on the beach towel and held up the tiny fluorescent yellow "spoon".  "Whose idea of a joke were these things!?" "Makes it last longer." "Nah!" He took a spoonful and pointed it at you "That's what they want you to think! Truth is your ice cream is liquid about 6 spoonfuls in. and then it becomes even more useless!!"You gave an amused shrug and leant on your hand "Go on, Mr.Holmes, what's the theory?" He bent it between his fingers "Look how easy that is to snap..!" You took his wrist "Well don't do it! Or you'll have to go get another!" He laughed "Would you like some?" "Mmm... I wouldn't say no..." "...Oh, to answer, I have no theory... See you'd think it could be for the kids... Only, talk about a choking hazard. Also I'm NOT a small child!" "You sure about that?" He gave you a warning look "Just because I love you doesn't mean you're getting any ice-cream if you're just gonna be plain rude... Y/N!" "Rude?” You teased “I thought it was quite funny." "Ha. Ha." But his sarcastic laugh made you really laugh and he leant forward with the spoon, "Now come on... It's pretty good." "Oh. I don't get the whole cup then." "I'd never get it back!" He did know you well! You opened your mouth and were met with the taste of your favourite ice-cream; "Mmm! No that is good!" "So you want more right?" "Is that why you decided on my favourite, huh?" "No." His smirk was gentle, “it's because you aren't getting any of the other.” "The other?" You questioned; "Going back for seconds, are we?" "Obviously..." He scraped the spoon around again; "Just two spoonfuls for you mind." "Too kind." "Well... At my own expense..." You accepted a second plastic spoonful of ice cream and then let him sit contentedly to finish the rest on his own.  Not without stealing his cap though. "Hey- Aw, forget it..." "Not fighting me now, huh?" "Oh, we gave up on that..." Fraser tipped the cup back like a shot; "See! Liquid!" He set it down and eyed you "...No... I've just always thought you looked good in that..." "Aw..." You pulled it down a little more to shield your eyes from the sun "...Do I get to keep it?" "NO!" He pushed you gently "Look after it, by all means!" You noticed he used the same tone with you then as he did when he asked you to do so before he left for a job. "Yes Skip!" "Damn right - not that you ever listened!" "I did 98% of the time...!" You whined with a pout "Yeah and that other 2% was hell, thank you very much!" He continued his lean forward and captured your lips with his. "...oh-!" "Thought I better kiss that pout away..." And so Fraser did it again, and again - and you just kept accepting his kisses.

 Fraser did, eventually, get back up and wander away again. By this time you were laying down, shades on, eyes closed, music in. That didn't mean you didn't notice when his presence left your side. You opened an eye and shook your head after him. What did he need more ice cream for anyway? Again it took him an age to stroll back to you. And when he sat back in the sand he tapped you; "Y/N..." You slid your shades up to rest on his cap and sat up. "Now what...?" "Come here a sec..." He patted the towel next to him. That made you suddenly suspicious, and your eyes narrowed; "Fraser I am literally right here..." "Yeah I know, and I want you a little closer, darling, c'mere..." Even with your suspicions you weren't about to resist the pull to be closer to him, and took the two steps needed to be on his towel, where you sank back to his level. "What?" He turned his body so that you were facing each other and he held out another spoon of ice cream; "Do you want some?" "You just said I wasn't getting any of this one..." "I know what I said, I'm feeling generous..." He gave a wink that you also felt you shouldn't trust. But stupidly did. "Okayyyy..." Fraser gave you a winning smile and held out the spoon for you. But you should have known better and he teased every time you tried to take a bite. "Seriously!? And you say you're not a child!" "-Just playing into the spoon!" "Will you hold still!?" "Okay... I will now I promise..." He didn't. And this time instead of moving his spoon out of your reach, you ended up with ice cream on your nose. But the cooling sensation on your skin made you at least giggle. And this time when Fraser leant forward, he licked it off you.

"Oh." It was of both realisation and surprise. And you realised exactly why he'd bought a second helping. And why you were also in a pretty secluded part of the beach under palm trees "Fraser I..." "I figure it's yes or no..." He murmured kissing you gently again. You weren't sure, but something in you was curious. Fraser knew you and sensed that; so the spoon left marks across your jawline and down your neck; and his lips followed the trail his hands were making. Your eyes fluttered closed as you focused on him. "Yes..."

  As he continued his trail of ice-cream and kisses, your body trembled as the feel of his tongue gliding over your skin. And you closed your eyes – sighing. Fraser pushed the straps from your shoulders and pushed you gently down into the warm sand and you knew this was heading exactly where expected. You quivered again at the thought of making love to him somewhere so public – you’d never had that before with anyone, and for a moment you were curious as to whether he had. Considering his background, where he was raised, and everything that remained a mystery to you, it wouldn’t surprise you if he’d done this before. But never with you… The ice-cream was finished before he’d got half way down your body; but not before he’d managed to completely undress you. And he afforded you as many touches as you would allow, before you wanted his shirt and shorts off him. He wasn’t about to give into that request either…

 Fraser admired you a little longer in the sunlight than he usually did. He liked that you weren't afraid to show that scar. There was a confidence in that he admired - and how you could easily have it tidied up, or nearly gone, but refused it... There was a tragic beauty in it... And a constant reminder to him of how much he should protect you. How delicate you really were; even though you'd always been a tough girl. And had to be, to be with him.

He took your hands in his as he kissed it - just as delicately. He whispered against your skin. I love you? I'm sorry? You couldn't make out the movement of his lips. But it didn't matter - you knew why. You ran your free hand into his hair. And that was Thank you.

 ***

 He got the idea to take you out on a boat. Eventually you knew that would mean diving, but for now Fraser was going to whisk you away to a tiny private island. And you meant tiny. You stared at it questioningly from the boat and turned to him; “I think I liked it better on the mainland.” “…I didn’t say we were going to live on a private island.” “Fraser that thing is barely inches wide.” He shook his head at you; “You’re not seeing the bigger picture here.” You laughed at his choice of words and turned, with a grin; “Help me out…” “It’s private, Y/N. That is literally the only word here that matters.” You leant on the boat and stared hard at him, but that smirk on his face wasn’t moving. Oh, it was gonna be one of those days…

 “…Damn… I swear this is clearer than it looks over there…” You shielded your eyes from the sun, looking across to the main shoreline from the dock. “Whatever you say.” Fraser joined you to stare at the water, hands in his pockets and his eyes traced over to you. You noticed this, and couldn’t help your smile under the weight of his gaze; “Stop looking at me like that.” “Like what?” Though Fraser was well aware of what he was doing. “That…!” “Why…?” “It makes me feel…” you bit your lip gently, and shied away from him “…Like I’m about 18. Again.” A smirk threatened to cross his face; “What did I do?” “…Nothing… My heart hasn’t raced like this… well… I mean… since yesterday, but…” He looked back out to the sea again with a snort; “This sounds like some damn romance novel.” You folded your arms and turned towards him; “You asked the questions!” You couldn’t help your smile though, “This is entirely your fault Fraser. Now get the HELL over here!” ‘Over here’ was about five steps, but he still put a little swagger in his walk as he strolled across the tiny ‘pier’ to you. You almost shook your head watching him. “You wanted me to say that.” He gave a gentle shrug; “Maybe.” “Shut up!!” “No. You, shut up.” He wound his arms around you, pulling your body close to his, his lips grazed yours gently, nowhere near good enough… “Damn…” you sighed against Fraser’s kiss as he left your lips – kissing your forehead, to your temple, across your cheek to your nose, before claiming your lips again. But each one was a ghosted kiss, and you knew that was on purpose. And so did he, by the way he liked that you whined. But he was strong enough to keep you back from him. “No… No… don’t do this…” “Mhhm?” “Fraser…” you whined again, voice soft, “Please…” He smiled again, and answered by kissing you once more. But you weren’t ever going to let him just get away with that! He wasn’t in control of you – he wasn’t about to start thinking that either-! You’d show him-! All it took was one movement, and before he could stop you, or even react to what you were doing, you’d pushed him backwards off the end of the pier and into that crystal clear blue salt water. By the time Fraser resurfaced you were laughing so hard it almost hurt; “Y/N! WHAT! THE! HELL!” “Oh my God! That was TOO good to pass up!” “GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW!” “Why don’t you make me!?” The flash in his eyes as he moved through the water to the pier made you step backwards a few paces, and your breath catch. But you held firm and shook your head; “Just chill out, stay there a while sweetheart.” “Y/N!” there was a growl to that, sending a familiar tingle up your spine. “Say it.” Fraser knew exactly what game you were playing, and he sighed with a slight roll of his eyes, tilting his head back in the water “…Please…” “Uh huh.” You unbuckled the belt pulling your dress in belt first; it fell to the pier with a clink. Unbuttoning your sundress, as slow and sensual as you could make it, you dropped it, running your hands through your hair you watched him. Fraser was more than a little taken aback, but you knew he loved the way you were looking at him. “You gonna take off your clothes or what?” He frowned; can’t argue with that and nodded, his shirt was off in one swift movement. But his shoes took a little longer. You almost laughed “Bet you wished you’d taken them off to walk through the sand now, huh?” You slipped your feet out of your sandals as he shot you a look. You reached up and pushed the straps of your swim wear from your shoulders; and as a second gesture of goodwill pulled your pants down your hips just enough. You heard that gentle growl, and the rest of his clothing was on the pier in seconds. You bit your lip just thinking about it with a gentle hum, and the way those blue eyes were looking at you expectantly.  But that wasn’t quite good enough for him; so he swam back a little further, just to make sure he could get a real look at you. You unclipped the top half of your costume and stepped out of your pants nonchalantly. Running your hands through your hair one last time, with him staring at you like that, made you feel like you had all the power here. And that injection of confidence made you the one to smirk as you stepped forward to dive in. The water was warm; the sun has been hitting it right all day. You surfaced and breathed gently with a smile as you swam out to him. Fraser whistled gently; “Well, damn. What was that?” He took you back in his arms with another delicate kiss. “Well it’s not like I’ve been practicing or anything…well.. Mayyybe I have…” You made sure to kiss him back; smaller, butterfly kisses, because he should damn well know you still want revenge. “Oh, uh huh?” He attempted to deepen every single one of those kisses, but you continued to pull back from him. You knew you couldn’t keep control over him for long, so you had to own this moment whilst you had it. “Naw, Y/N, c’mon…” You refused him once more, and could tell he was just becoming more frustrated. And you were in his domain out here. And he was a stronger swimmer than you. Fraser caught you again; tangling your legs below the water, he began running his hands lower on your body; which instantly made you gasp his name. “F-Fraser---!” Your breathing hitched, twice and whatever control you had is gone. He could kiss you now – and Fraser knew he had won. He lifted you higher onto his hips, barely allowing you breathing space as his kisses became hungrier and hungrier. You brushed against him and gasp again; and you could feel the way Fraser started smirking against your lips. – He’d always been very good at not asking for it.. Not begging for it...  What happened between you after an argument involved so much push and pull, but when he was back from work now… All you wanted was him… So you were not; you’d never put up much resistance to him wanting you, anyhow. Your breathing hitched for a third time as he kissed down your neck, and your exposed shoulder, biting down gently – that was enough to have you moaning, eyes closed. “Fraser!” His hands were all over you, and all it made you want was friction. Your legs tightened around him. But you still didn’t want to entirely give up on that little bit of power… In your desperation you attempted to move your body lower down his, which only caused Fraser to chuckle again – of course he knew what you were doing… His hands moved quickly to your thighs and he attempted to loosen your lock around him to lift you a little higher. But you weren’t having any of that, either.

“Well, one of us has gotta give.” You hated that Fraser had voiced it the way he did. How he made your body tremble against his; and you could feel your cheeks heating up; “uh huh! I told you it was hot out here.” He virtually purred it, with a cocky grin as he kissed you once more. You hated that confidence as much as you loved it – you were both frustrating each other on purpose, only it was getting to you more. “Fraser…” your voice was barely audible, and he missed what you said “You’re gonna have to repeat that darlin’…” “...Don’t.” Of course he wasn’t going to listen, and he pushed your body again. Well, this time you were fighting him on that one. Locking your arms around his, your nails dug into his skin – enough to give him a visible wince; “NO.” For a second you were more in control than you have ever been before, considering how fierce the look you were giving him was. Fraser bit his lip – he hadn’t seen a look like that from you in a while, not since you used to fight. And reminiscing on moments like that didn’t help anything but turn him on even more, and he knew you could feel that. “D-Damn….Y/N…” “Please.” Knowing that neither of you were going to give up, and yet both of you wanted it, you were gracious enough to concede – you needed him; “Baby, please…” At least he responded to that, capturing you in another kiss; his hands ran through your hair and you sighed gently against his lips, tightening your embrace around him. Fraser felt your legs loosen around his waist and dropped a hand from tangling in your hair to guide you. The movement was gentle – but you whined through the kiss at the same as your body tensed for just a second. But you weren’t the only one making noises; and he groaned too, breaking the kiss to breathe deep – his eyes closed to you for a moment, and he traced his hand down your spine… Fraser always had this strange feeling that you were perfect, you were built right for him. He found that an odd thing - not something he ever thought about often, but he felt it now. Maybe it’s because he was here… Fraser was never more in tune than he was in the water. You placed your forehead gently to his, and closed your eyes too, your focus on his breathing, his heartbeat, this moment. When he opened his eyes again yours were still shut – and Fraser moved from you to trail kisses down your neck – now you tasted like the sea too. And that was all his favourite things in one place… He ran his hands lower on your body to support you against him, aware that he would be all you had out here. You were relying on his abilities once more.  That feeling persisted though; and the notion that you were built for him made the prospect of you ever being with someone else an odd concept. He realised if you had any ex-lovers he never knew about them. But Fraser was always aware of the crew’s teasing – that you could have whoever you wanted when he was away and he’d be none the wiser, or that they could simply win your heart from him. Your eyes reopened as you gasped gently again, as the train of thought he was on began to affect him. “F-Fraser! W-Wait--!” “Sorry! Sorry I didn’t mean…” You shook your head, smile setting back in – you gathered his face in your hands, eyes looking between his. People called him a psychopath - like it was just a word they could use… but behind those eyes of his was something wild and untameable; a stormy energy perfect only for the open sea. You weren’t sure what your role was in that… you only used to add to it – a squall that would attempt to destroy you both. Now you could calm it… but control it? That was a fabrication of anyone’s mind who dare think it… “It’s okay, don’t ever say sorry. I love you…” You let him go in order to claim kisses again; this time biting his lip gently. Pulling yourself into him tighter you took another breath; Fraser closed his eyes for just a second to adjust himself to you, and the water. Was he excited by this prospect, or not? Well yes… but the responsibility was all on him.  Your breathing slowed, as you slipped into the grove of his own. His lips brushed yours, to let you know he was ready, and your movement of reassurance was taken as an opportunity to move. “Fraser---! Dammit---!” but your sighs weren’t angry; just blissful and he chuckled gently. “If you keep saying my name like that, Y/N, we might just have to do this more often…” *** Even on the gentle boat ride out to the particular chartered area of water Fraser had decided on, he could see you were nervous. It was far from you not wanting to be there, though... This was just what happened every time you went now. The way you would eye the ocean and beg that this time it wouldn't finish what it started.

Obviously Fraser hated seeing you like this; given that there was never anything he could really do about it. You came to terms with it on your own and he knew you'd be right as rain after being in the open sea for a couple of minutes, but until that time you'd be internally freaking out. His attempts to distract you from it proved fairly futile, but at least you were standing close by him now - and he could put an arm around you. He wasn't sure if you'd ever get over it, but there was sometimes nothing he wanted back more than you by his side on deep sea diving missions.

He slowed the boat down to a complete stop and turned to you; "You sure you're going to be okay?" "Mmmm..." Though you didn't sound so certain. To you it was just a question Fraser always felt he needed to ask; he knew you'd be fine and that once you'd spent 5 minutes below the water it would be just like it always used to be. Still, he always gave you that option to back out, even when you were already fully dressed and kitted out. "Alright," he breathed, "we're gonna do this nice and slow okay? Always make sure we're in each other's eyeline and if anything happens..." He pointed to the back of the boat, "We signal or call for help; okay? Other than that - you know all the partnership rules..." He pushed his forehead to yours, "I'm gonna look after you okay, Y/N..." Those blue eyes studied yours hard, but he didn't let his own internal worries cross his face. "I promised myself nothing like that would ever happen to you again and I meant it. And I've still never lost a diver." But Fraser had always been diligent, and you'd always blamed your accident on your own mistake - whether Fraser let you or not... You nodded and accepted his short sweet kiss, before he stepped away to finish getting ready himself.

 You could feel the tightness in your chest - and your skin running hot and then cold. Your blood and heartbeat pounding in your chest, and through your ears. It all made you feel a bit nauseous and you had to steady yourself against the side of the boat. You found it ridiculous that even after all these years it was still that bad. The waves swelled under the boat, but it was all very gentle. And you knew Fraser was watching you again with the same worried look on his face. But those nerves made you hesitate - and you never knew why. You should have been more scared under the water than standing above it - but entering it was almost always the difficult part. And why?

Maybe it was the not knowing... Not until you were in it or under those waves what the temperament of the water would be. And that could always massively affect the success of the dive. But it had never fazed you before. You turned to him, now by your side and took a deep breath "I'm sorry this always happens." "Don't be..." He pulled you to him and sat you on the side for a minute; "Even now I can't imagine how hard this is..." "Should it be..?" Fraser gave a shrug, "I pray I never have to find that out..." he held out his hand "We'll do this together - okay?" "Mmm..." You laced your fingers with his, and gently pushed your forehead to his again closing your eyes. You knew this was as calm and steady as Fraser got, and you just wanted to bask in that energy as much as you could. He was home right here - and it still made you so happy to behold it. "...Fraser, I love you. So much." He chuckled gently, and grazed his lips against your cheek "How many times do you think you need to tell me that?" You reopened your eyes, "Well. How else am I supposed to get you to kiss me?"

Fraser got that immediately but the way he smiled and shook his head "...Well. I figured even then, you might have made it easier on yourself..." He gripped your hand a little tighter "Just let me make up for that and make it easier on you now, Mmm'Kay?" You gave a nod "Together? On three?" You nodded again - but were well aware he wouldn't even count one. You could have laughed at the predictability of it all, as he pulled you backwards off the boat as soon as you'd agreed to it. But the sound you made was enough for him to know that he had done the right thing.

 And that was his only aim; Fraser would always do right by you. You deserved nothing less.

---

@dennismitchell @happyskywhale @wltz-bby​

#MendoTagSquad.

[melefim]

Swearing in Dead Boy Detectives: The Cats

Tabby Cat:

Overview:

3 curses total, 2 different words said in 3 episodes.

Episode 1: 1 Fuck

Episode 2: 1 Piss

Episode 3:

Episode 4: 1 Fuck

Curses Per Episode:

Episode 1: 1

Episode 2: 1

Episode 3: 0

Episode 4: 1

Uses Per Word:

Tabby Cat’s favorite curse word is Fuck, which he says twice!

Fuck: 2

Piss: 1

Unique Words:

The Tabby Cat and Charles are the only characters to say piss, once each. (Funnily enough, to each other- Charles tells the cat to piss off in episode 1, then the cat tells the trio the cat king is pissed in episode 2)

Percent of Total:

The Tabby Cat swears 3 times throughout the season, which is .9% of all cursing in the show.

Rankings:

Who Swears the Most: With his 3 curses, the Tabby Cat comes in 14th place in the overall rankings.

Curse Word Variety: He is tied for 11th for swearing variety, along with the calico cat, David the Demon, Maren, and the girl in Crystal’s club memory with just 2 different words each.

Individual Words: Tabby Cat is tied with Charles for their single unique word usage of Piss.

Lines:

Episode 1: Fuck you. I'm not telling you nothing about that house or the witch inside.

Episode 2: The Cat King is pissed. We're taking you to him.

Episode 4: Fuck off. The kid had a sardine.

Notes:

Only episodes where the character appears and has lines are included in the ‘Curses Per Episode’ chart.

Updates:

Updated Percent of Total Swearing chart.

Calico Cat:

Overview:

2 curses total, 2 different words said in 2 episodes.

Episode 3: 1 Fuck

Episode 4: 1 Whore

Curses Per Episode:

Episode 3: 1

Episode 4: 1

Uses Per Word:

The Calico Cat is an equal opportunity curser- she says both her curse words one time each.

Fuck: 1

Whore: 1

Unique Words:

The Calico Cat is the only character to say whore.

Percent of Total:

The Calico Cat swears 2 times throughout the season, which is 0.6% of all cursing in the show.

Rankings:

Who Swears the Most: The Calico Cat is tied for 15th with Maxine, Brad, and the girl in Crystal’s club fight memory with just 2 curses each.

Curse Word Variety: She is tied for 11th for swearing variety, along with the tabby cat, David the Demon, Maren, and the girl in Crystal’s club memory, with just 2 different words each.

Individual Words: The Calico Cat was the only character to say whore, so took the title for that word alone.

Lines:

Epidode 3: At least we don't have to go inside. This house is fucked up.

Episode 4: You're such a whore.

Notes:

Only episodes where the character appears and has lines are included in the ‘Curses Per Episode’ chart.

Updates:

Updated Percent of Total Swearing chart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

More Dead Boy Detectives Swearing Posts:

Masterlist

Swearing by Episode

Swearing by Character

Swearing by Word

All Swearing Posts

And if you like lists of things like I do, you can check out my other Dead Boy Detectives ones here!

When Charles’ Shirt Colors Change

George Rextrew’s Edwin comic inspo board

Full soundtrack with timestamps

Moves, Incidents, and Cases Masterlist

First pass at finding where the songs in the score are used- full post with timestamps in progress

[hoodmara]

Honest * Nick Mara

The tv hummed quietly, only being heard between the breaks of the jersey boy’s snores. 

Y/N turned her head to the screen to see the music video playing, a telling sign that it was too late for her to be awake. She let a small sigh escape her lips as she turned back to her original position of staring at the ceiling. Hoping that she could soon forget about the thoughts racing in her head, she started counting her breaths to try and sleep. Before she could even get to 10, the boy across from her started to turn in his sleep. 

Their legs were tangled like headphone wires, so wherever he turned, y/n had no choice but to follow. She tried her best to detangle herself from his hold, but to no avail. She didn’t understand why he was wasting his time being squished on this couch with her while he had a whole bed upstairs, empty and waiting for him. 

Tapping him on his calf and slightly rubbing on it, y/n tried to wake the boy up. Finally, he let out a quiet ‘hm?’ as his hands went to rub his eyes.

“Nick, go up to your bed, you don’t have to stay down here with me” Y/N said quietly, leaning up so she was in a sitting position. Nick rolled around a little bit before finally opening his eyes. He sat for a bit before he finally adjusted to being awake. Sitting up slowly, he placed his hand on y/n’s ankle gently.

“Ok, but you gotta come with me” he replied, lacing his free hand through his hair while the other slightly caressed the girl’s ankle. 

“Uh yeah no, I’m not about to sleep in your childhood bed with you. Your mom would not have that”

“Y/N, she doesn’t care about you being in my bed, she would rather have you up there with me than being on this busted ass couch” 

Y/N sat, contemplating her next moves. Nick’s mom did say that she didn’t care about them both staying in his room, as long as there was no baby-making in her house. She said that she was not ready to be a grandma yet and Y/N promised not to make her one. 

“Ok fine, but don’t try any of that shit tonight, Mara”

“I’m too tired to do anything, y/n, don’t worry” he lazily laughed as he turned to stand up from the couch. Finally in an upright position, he offered a hand to y/n and she gladly took it. Before heading up the stairs, y/n ran to turn the tv off and then took Nick’s hand again to help him up the stairs.

“You love running up the light bill, so I don’t want your mom on my ass about it too,” Y/N joked, making Nick chuckle quietly.

“Shut up, I’m very mindful of my power usage,”

“Yeah ok. I bet when we walk in your room, your tv is on,”

“Aight bet, I know my tv is off,”

The two rounded the corner at the top of the stairs and made their way into the last bedroom of the hallway. When they entered, the room was almost pitch blank, but the dim light of a black tv screen sizzled lowly. The screen gave off just enough light for them to make their way to the bed. Y/N let go of Nick’s hand to walk over to the tv and turn it off.

“Man, your carbon footprint is off the charts,” Nick could help but laugh and shake his head. Y/N always did know him, almost better than he knew himself. 

“Girl shut up and get in the bed, I’m cold,” he joked back, pointing to the mattress. Y/N smiled and jumped onto the high mattress. She rolled across the bed and snuggled into the dark green comforter that was pushed back.

Nick laughed and smiled sleepily at the sight before him. Y/N had just gotten into the bed, but she was already dozing off. He took that time to slide in next to her and pull the comforter over them both. At first they were laying face to face, both of them scanning over the other’s features.

“Like I said before, don’t try any of that shit....but can you be big spoon? Just this once?” Y/N asked, looking up at the boy in front of her. He smiled and nodded, receiving a happy sigh from her as she turned over and scooted back into Nick. 

It wasn’t unlike the two to cuddle like this. They were both affectionate people, so it was in their nature. But since it had been so long since they’ve been given the opportunity, due to tour and college, this simple cuddle felt so much better. 

Nick wrapped his free arm around Y/N’s waist and pulled her close. Her head rested against his shoulder and she could feel him nuzzle into her hair. The two were content with this position and they both began to fade off into their respective dream lands. That was until Nick muttered something that Y/N couldn’t leave until the morning.

“I think I love you,” he whispered, hoping that the girl in his arms was deep asleep. He knew that she probably wasn’t, but these words were too important to keep to himself for another day.

Y/N sat for a few seconds and let the sentence replay in her head. She processed the words and felt safe enough to respond. 

“You think you do or you do, because those are two very different things,” she replied, still facing the wall. She didn’t want to turn around, because everything felt easier when she didn’t have to look into his brown eyes.

“I love you. I know I do,” Nick replies much more sure of himself. Y/N smiled and slightly nodded.

“Good. I love you too. Exactly how you meant it,” she replied. 

Nick smiled and nodded back, happy with the answer he received. Finding Y/N’s hand in the blankets, he laced his fingers with her and pulled them up to his chin. Gently, he laid a kiss on each of her knuckles before bringing both of their hands back down into a resting position. 

The two laid in a comfortable silence, both of them slowly drifting off to sleep. There was a silent and shared feeling of excitement, because they couldn’t wait to wake up in the morning and share their love with each other honestly.

[stevenuniversallyreviews]

Episode 116: Gem Heist

“We won’t stand out if we play the roles we were made for.”

There’s nothing like a good heist. You’d think a plot with such a consistent formula (build a team, go over a plan, execute the plan and adapt to its inevitable failures) would get stale, but consider for a moment that Inception and Fast Five premiered within a year of each other, and are both heists following the same general beats, but they’re fully different experiences. I’m not gonna say which one is better, but only one of them has a car chase where a car is chained to a giant safe and uses it like a wrecking ball, so.

In some ways, Gem Heist drops the ball on what I want from a heist: there’s barely a planning stage, and the team is already together, so it’s all about the execution and the wrenches thrown at our heroes. But while it’s hardly the caper I hoped for from the title, I can’t help but admire how it takes the tropes associated with heists and uses them to comment on Gem society.

A heist is all about specialists with clear jobs. Safecrackers, getaway drivers, demolitions experts, con artists, the whole point is getting a bunch of talented people who are each essential to the group. This element is only briefly touched upon in the traditional sense in Gem Heist, with Steven referring to Pearl as “our hacker,” but in its place, our heroes must succeed by putting themselves into the very roles they escaped by becoming Crystal Gems. Sapphire is a wise advisor and Ruby a disposable bodyguard, and the two must be separated. Amethyst must be huge. Pearl must be lowly servant. And Steven, who can’t exactly take the leadership position of his Gem parent, must play the dumb human.

This conceit drives the episode and makes it unexpectedly solid in terms of characterization, given how bland its plot ends up being. This is basically an episode about walking through a hallway, and instead of a third act we just get two minutes transitioning Steven to the Zoo that could’ve been spent in our next episode (or heavily cut). Even Adventures in Light Distortion feels more meaningful from a sheer plotting standpoint, and that was literally just getting the Crystal Gems from Point A to B. But because of how fascinating the characters are to watch when forced into the positions they’d be stuck in had they not rebelled, I’m able to enjoy what would otherwise be a slog of an episode.

The surprise lead of Gem Heist is Sapphire, who takes charge of the situation right away and finally shines on her own. Ruby got a head start in Jailbreak in terms of screentime, and takes up more room when the two are together thanks to her louder personality, and has a whole squad of counterparts to define herself against, so I love seeing a focus on Garnet’s quiet half. 

Sapphire’s serene baseline is portrayed so well by Erica Luttrell that she’s often played comically straight (her casually agreeing to call Steven “Esteban” is a great example here), but we already know from Keystone Motel that she’s more than just her calmness. It’s great to see her lose her cool so early in the episode, putting up a confident front while planning but getting frazzled with its inevitable failure before the team even disembarks. I wouldn’t quite call her a ham in the way Ruby and Peridot can be, but her overacting while narrating her activities to warn her friends of danger is wonderful. And of course, she gifts us with the universe’s cutest wink.

Charlyne Yi always brings a lot to the table as Ruby, and while she’s had more to do than Luttrell after Hit the Diamond, this is the first time since then that she’s voiced our Ruby. The line of the night is her furious declaration that Blue Diamond “hates fusion and love?”—it’s such a horrible thought that Ruby treats it like a question rather than a statement, because how hating something as good as love even possible? Still, Ruby’s bigger highlight is all in the animation as she runs up a locked door, claws at it while screaming, and admits defeat when this doesn’t immediately work.

Pearl also benefits from the visuals, which portray her humiliations in ways Deedee Magno Hall can’t in the moment due to her needing to be quiet. Which isn’t to say Magno Hall doesn’t do a lot with what she’s given, going from embarrassed and deferential around Holly Blue Agate to pissed off while alone with the Crystal Gems. And while Amethyst is the first Crystal Gem to go, Michaela Dietz picks up the baton from Yi and Magno Hall to play other amethysts; it’s neat to hear her turn down the playfulness for gruffness without completely removing the prankster edge from her voice. And what we do see from Amethyst is a reasonable amount of nervousness around a first encounter with her peers, which pays off wonderfully in That Will Be All (as does the actual sentence “That will be all” that Pearl will soon get the chance to redirect).

Steven is surprisingly low-key here, all things considered, but I suppose with all the focus he gets in the first two episodes of this arc, as well as our next one, it makes sense to look more deeply at the Gems; after all, they’re the ones who were born into an oppressive class structure that they must temporarily return to (give or take an Amethyst, but she still has plenty of issues stemming from societal expectations). He’s got some decent jokes, and dominates the last part of the episode when separated from the Gems, but the last part of the episode is so boring that I don’t really care. 

Still, none of these characters would have the chance to shine without Holly Blue Agate, who comes in hot and seems physically incapable of chilling the hell out. Christine Pedi voices Holly in just two episodes of the original series, but boy does she know how to leave a mark. After seeing Homeworld loyalists from the bottom of the totem pole in Peridot and the rubies, a Homeworld loyalist who’s a known hero in Jasper, and two leaders of Homeworld in Yellow and Blue Diamond, we encounter perhaps the worst kind of zealot: middle management.

Holly Blue Agate is the Dolores Umbridge of Steven Universe. She’s not given the stage to become main villain material, but she sure knows how to be the most detestable kind of miniboss we could hope for. She’s a shameless sycophant whose worship of Gems she considers superior is matched only by her disdain for those she sees as beneath her, but because she actually has some authority, she’s able to be far more tyrannical than the likes of Peridot. She’s hardcore lawful evil on the classic alignment chart, but if we allow for variation to the classics, I’d consider her more petty evil than anything.

With one character, we personify the entire toxic class structure that the Crystal Gems were born to defy. And with every word, Holly Blue proves that our heroes were correct to abandon this caste system. She’s flippant in her physical abuse, and wears her bigotry as a point of pride, taking glee in enforcing the inferiority of every Gem around her but Sapphire, who earns the same kind of swooning she applies to Blue Diamond. This is all performed under the thin disguise of politeness, because again, this is Umbridge we’re dealing with. She yells that there’s no yelling allowed, then gets mad when an amethyst corrects herself by being too quiet. She either pretends to not understand human speech or genuinely doesn’t get that Steven is talking (I could get into a whole thing about the necessity of an unrealistic translator for the Gems, but first off they’re magic so unrealistic things are fine, and second off what’s clearly more important here is Holly’s attitude).

It’s almost a shame we don’t get more of Holly Blue, because she may be loathsome, but she’s the compelling kind of loathsome that makes an excellent villain. Aquamarine is similar in feigned sweetness and cruelty, but Holly lacks that Cartman-inspired awareness of how miserable she is, which makes her less extreme and more relatable to real-life monsters in our daily lives who are blind to their own awfulness. At least she gets one more episode to be horrible and receive some decent comeuppance for her behavior in Gem Heist.

As I’ve said, the actual story here is pretty dull. We get some hints at lore, as it’s now pretty clear that the Era 2 referred to by Peridot was separated from Era 1 by the death of Pink Diamond. We get further indirect characterization of Blue Diamond with Holly Blue Agate’s praise and Ruby and Sapphire’s scorn. And the final sequence, while feeling tacked on, at least gets some neat usage out of what looks like the same tech as Peridot’s gone-but-not-forgotten robofingers. But if not for the stark reminder of why the Crystal Gems’ ability to decide their lives is important, this would be one of the least consequential episodes of the series. Plenty of episodes have great characterization, this is Steven Universe after all, but most of those also bring more to the table.

I’ve never been to this…how do you say…school?

Second episode since Gem Harvest to feature the Floridoverse as the main promo, and while it’s a little unclear whether this is another Floridoverse promo where a new adult character is portrayed as a teacher (Holly’s uniform vaguely resembles Greg’s and Ruby’s) I’m gonna go ahead and hope the intent is for her to be a student because man, that vibe on a peer is in some ways even worse than on a superior.

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

Lousy plotting really knocks this one down, considering how great an actual heist could’ve been, but the character work barely scrapes this from an episode I don’t care about to one I enjoy. It straddles the line between Like ‘em and Enh, but I’ll be nice this time.

Top Twenty

Steven and the Stevens

Hit the Diamond

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

Last One Out of Beach City

The Return

Jailbreak

The Answer

Mindful Education

Sworn to the Sword

Rose’s Scabbard

Earthlings

Mr. Greg

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Beach City Drift

Winter Forecast

Bismuth

Steven’s Dream

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

Warp Tour

The Test

Future Vision

On the Run

Maximum Capacity

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

Keeping It Together

We Need to Talk

Chille Tid

Cry for Help

Keystone Motel

Catch and Release

When It Rains

Back to the Barn

Steven’s Birthday

It Could’ve Been Great

Message Received

Log Date 7 15 2

Same Old World

The New Lars

Monster Reunion

Alone at Sea

Crack the Whip

Beta

Back to the Moon

Kindergarten Kid

Buddy’s Book

Gem Harvest

Three Gems and a Baby

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Reformed

Rising Tides, Crashing Tides

Onion Friend

Historical Friction

Friend Ship

Nightmare Hospital

Too Far

Barn Mates

Steven Floats

Drop Beat Dad

Too Short to Ride

Restaurant Wars

Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service

Greg the Babysitter

Gem Hunt

Steven vs. Amethyst

Bubbled

Adventures in Light Distortion

Gem Heist (barely!)

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

Super Watermelon Island

Gem Drill

Know Your Fusion

Future Boy Zoltron

No Thanks!

     6. Horror Club      5. Fusion Cuisine      4. House Guest      3. Onion Gang      2. Sadie’s Song      1. Island Adventure

[pemini]

UNREALITY: System Failure | 4:01 PM

「 Chapter One 」

⇢ Word count: 1,064

⇢ Genre: horror, angst, interactive

⇢ Warnings: none

⇢ Members: Jaemin, Jeno, Renjun

> BACK

> NEXT

> SETTINGS

> USER #JAEMIN HAS ENTERED UNREALITY_SERVER1

> 4:01PM

< Hello, #JAEMIN! Welcome to Unreality, enjoy your stay! >

Jaemin could see the colour of time. When he opened his eyes, greeted by the light blue hues breezing into the room he found himself in, he knew it was 4PM. He was in his bedroom, he designed it specifically for the game. It was more spacious than his real bedroom. Much emptier. It only held a bed, a dresser, and a small couch. He shivered despite the warmth of the interior and took a mental note to redecorate. 

Everything was so perfect, it was wrong. The light spilled from the window in consecutive beams, illuminating every corner of the room. The view were of houses just like Jaemin’s. Identical, in fact. The same pastels and perfectly mowed lawns. Jaemin tried to brush off his uneasiness. It was a game. Games are created by humans. Humans are used to imperfection, but crave the opposite, its only natural to eliminate all imperfections in a game thats main goal is to put your perfect world on a platter for your enjoyment.

Jaemin had convinced his best friends, Jeno and Renjun, to buy Unreality. All three of them were devoted gamers, always up to date on new video games and technology. They’d form an obsession over whatever game everyone would be raging over and play it religiously until a new game took its spot on the charts. Everything was temporary, and they’d expected Unreality to be the same. 

> Jaemin, two unknown users are knocking on your door. Choose your action carefully.

> OPEN THE DOOR

> IGNORE

Jaemin’s brows furrowed at the usage of the word “carefully”, knowing Jeno and Renjun were the ones at the door. They planned to meet up and explore the town the three of them chose to live in on the game. Although, the game’s rules and reminders section did strike him as strange, coming off as too aggressive of a ‘stranger danger!’ warning for a life simulation game. 

“Open the door.” He replied, as he left his room in search for the entrance of his house. He quickly found the front door, living room and kitchen. They were just as empty as his bedroom. The in-game choices were voice controlled, leaving space for misunderstanding, so Jaemin braced himself for the opposite his orders.

> #JAEMIN chose to OPEN THE DOOR.

“Took you long enough” Renjun chuckled as he stepped into Jaemin’s home, Jeno by his side. “I expected your house to be more, colourful?” He muttered as he looked around, his eyes eventually landing on the fridge and his body following.

“So, how’re you liking it here so far?” Jeno questioned before throwing himself at the navy blue couch situated in the middle of the living room. Jaemin sat next to him and rested his head on his shoulder. A headache was forming in the back of his head.

“I don’t know, I don’t think I like this town. It’s too quiet. And empty. And there are no people walking their dogs, what’s up with that?” He knew it was too early to form a conclusive opinion, but he was so used to the barking of his neighbour’s dogs, the birds, the loud children who’d come out to play at 5PM (5PM is an opalescent orange, with shy yellows and a barely there blue in harmony every so often) and the occasional conversation he’d hear from outside his window once someone was passing by, that the silence was unsettling. The town was too quiet. The clock was ticking. There was a flicker of orange that he would have missed if he hadn’t practiced not to. 

“The game’s new, there aren’t that many players yet.” Said Jeno, closing his eyes. “You’re gonna regret complaining about the quiet when everyone in town has three parties daily.”

“Open your eyes you loaf, you sleep all day in real life, I’m not letting you sleep that much in fake life, too.” Jaemin teased, repeatedly poking at Jeno’s cheeks. Instead of a swat of the hand or a death glare, he received a whiny “I miss my cats”.

“Yo, what do you need twenty whole cups of iced coffee for?” Jaemin’s head shot up, turning to look at Renjun, who was rummaging through the fridge.

“He’s addicted.” Answered Jeno, who’s eyes were still closed. Jaemin had already made his way to the fridge and chugged down half a cup of coffee, Renjun staring at him with his jaw wide open the entire time. “I wonder if there’s a rehab center here and if they offer help for caffeine addicts.”

“I wonder if marriage to a beverage is legal here.” Sighed Jaemin, which only made Renjun’s jaw drop further. Jaemin placed his hand under Renjun’s chin and shut his mouth for him, making Renjun reach his arm out and begin to choke him as they both laughed. 

“Shit, what time is it?” Asked Jeno, eyes frantically scanning the room as he stood up. 

“Like, 4:15, I think.” Replied Jaemin, banging at Renjun’s arm which was still wrapped around his neck. “Why?” 

“There’s some sort of questionnaire all players have to do at the town square. I don’t remember what it’s for, probably game preferences or about our experience so far?” Jeno recalled, he joined the two boys at the fridge. “We have to be there in half an hour.” 

“We could leave in the next twenty minutes and make it on time, but I kinda wanted to check out the area before it got too dark.” Pondered Renjun as he grabbed a cup of coffee from the fridge. He took a sip, his eyes widened and he stifled a cough before shoving the drink into Jeno’s hands and running to the sink, spitting the drink out. “Jaemin, what the fuck is wrong with your coffee?” He panted, only to see the boy in question slapping at his knee as he doubled over with laughter. Jeno took a sip of the drink, slightly choking before forcing himself to swallow it down.

“Well, that’s satan’s nectar.” Jeno coughed, making Jaemin wheeze louder. 

“It’s the eight shots of espresso.” Said Jaemin as he caught his breath and attempted to regain his posture.

“You really do need rehab.” Replied Jeno. “Anyway, do you guys wanna leave now and check out the town or stay here and leave in half an hour?”

What should Jaemin, Jeno and Renjun do?

> STAY HOME

> LEAVE NOW

- Some options reveal secrets that may be useful in the future. The secret score is currently 0/?. The secret score will be updated in the beginning of each chapter, based on how many secrets were collected in the past chapters.

-  The voting links for STAY HOME and LEAVE NOW have been deleted, as voting time is now over.

[chiseler]

McVouty!

I first heard Slim Gaillard in a cramped little new and used punk rock record store just off South Street in Philadelphia in the mid-‘80s. You wouldn’t normally be expecting the spiked and leathered clerk in a place like that to be playing ’postwar jazz, but Gaillard was a different kind of finger-popping jazzbo, as singular a groovy beatnik punk rock wildman as they come.

Bulee “Slim” Gaillard’s early life, as he describes it, was as storied, fantastical, even mythical as Salvador Dali’s or an early 20th century boy’s adventure novel. Given official records are sparse, it’s just better and somehow more fitting to simply take him at his word. It only makes sense, really, and helps explain as well as anything how he became what he did.

The motormouthed madcap hepcat bebop comedy genius behind 1938’s “Flat Foot Floogie (with a Floy Floy),” a performer whose unexpected slips into rapid-fire Spanish, Arabic and Yiddish can at first sound like skilled mimicry, a kind of scatting Sid Caesar, was born in Cuba in 1916 to an Afro-Cuban mother and a German Jewish father. His father was a steamship steward who sometimes brought the young Gaillard along on ocean voyages to show him a bit of the world. But after a stop in Crete in 1928, the ship somehow sailed on half an hour earlier than scheduled, leaving the 12-year-old Gaillard behind. Completely alone and speaking only Spanish at the time, out of simple necessity he picked up enough Greek to get by for the next couple years. He also occasionally hopped aboard passing ships to visit the Middle East, where he likewise learned some Arabic and became enamored with the people, the music and the culture. Then at 16, deciding it was about time he returned home to see his parents again, he booked passage on a ship he thought was headed for Havana.    

Only problem was, the boat skipped Havana, sailing north to New York. Gaillard didn’t disembark there, instead staying aboard as the ship made it’s way through the St. Lawrence before docking in Detroit. Considering he spoke no English, Detroit seemed much more amenable, he would note years later, mostly on account of it’s large immigrant population. With so many Greeks, Arabs and Hispanics vying for work in the auto plants, he was at least able to find people with whom he could communicate, and was taken in by an Armenian family. He picked up English as quickly as he picked up the others, though, and started working odd jobs. Among the odder, there in the midst of Prohibition, was a stint with the notorious Purple Gang, for whom he made deliveries in a hearse carrying a coffin filled with bootleg whiskey. After witnessing too much violence, the preternaturally gentle Gaillard realized it wasn’t the life for him, and took the advice of a tough local beat cop (who also happened to be black) who warned him to get away from the gangs, get out of the neighborhood, and do something with himself. For a black teenager in Detroit in the 1930s, his escape routes were limited. He could go into boxing, or go into music. He tried his hand at boxing for a bit, then decided maybe music was the preferable route.

Gaillard started taking night classes, and after some backstage encouragement from Duke Ellington himself, eventually learned to play guitar, sax, vibraphone, piano and drums. In the mid-30s he moved to New York, having decided he wanted to be a professional entertainer.

Since work as a professional musician was hard to come by, he became what he called a professional amateur, making the rounds of the amateur nights at the local clubs, changing his act as he did to avoid recognition. Sometimes he’d be a dancer, others a pianist, still others a sax player. Simple fact was he could get paid $15 a night on the amateur stages, which was better than a lot of professionals were getting paid. The trick, though, was he couldn’t be too good, If he was too good, they’d never let him play amateur night. So he always had to drop in a few intentional flat notes to cover himself.

Although he was an excellent musician who could play everything from boogie woogie to bebop to Big Band to Afro-Cuban to American standards to children’s songs and classical, Gaillard will never be remembered for his playing. Despite having so many languages at his disposal (the list had since come to include Armenian, German and Yiddish), Gaillard found there were still ideas and concepts beyond what any of them could express. To rectify this he began inventing his own vocabulary, centered around the adjectival verb “vout” (and it’s variations vouty, McVoutm McVouty, etc.) and the suffixes o-reenee, o-roonee, and o-rootee. They were fluid in both usage and meaning, and could be dropped in pretty much anywhere in conversation. By the time he teamed with bassist Slam Stewart and the pair began recording as the musical comedy team Slim and Slam in the late ‘30s, Gaillard had started writing his own songs in the new language he had christened, yes, Vout-O-Reenee. Beyong that, the pair was a master of the dueling jive comic scat, playing off each other and riffing on everything from La boheme and “Jingle Bells” to chicken clucks and food references. Gotta say, Gaillard wrote an unusual number of songs about food—avocados, chili, fried chicken, ice cream, matzoh balls, bagels, peanuts, and whatever else came to mind when he was hungry. He also wrote songs about motorcycles, cement mixers, and mass communication.

Slim and Slam first came to the public’s attention when Benny Goodman performed their song “Flat Foot Floogie (with a Floy Floy) on the radio in late 1937. The song was an overnight sensation, and when Slim and Slam recorded their own bersion shortly thereafter, it reached number two on the Billboard charts. A copy of the song was even included in a time capsule buried at the 1939 New York World’s Fair. The capsule is scheduled to be reopened in the year 6939, and you have to wonder what whoever or whatever finds it will make of what kind of people we were.

Other outlandishly catchy novelty hits like “Cement Mixer (Put-Ti Put-Ti)” and “McVouty” soon followed. The pair’s between-song banter, marked by non-sequiturs, bad jokes, and Gaillard’s new language made them radio favorites. In 1941 they appeared as themselves in the appropriately wild and accidentally postmodern Hellzapoppin’, and performed in a handful of other films in the early ’40s.. Gaillard’s facility for languages, accents and crazy sound effects also earned him occasional voice work on animated Warner Brothers shorts from the era.

In 1943 Gaillard was drafted into the Army Air Corps, trained as a pilot, and flew a B-25 on bombing missions over Europe, which is something worth pausing to think about for a moment. After his plane was struck by anti-aircraft fire in 1944 and Gaillard was hospitalized for months with an arm full of shrapnel, he was discharged. He resumed his musical career, solo this time, recording jams with the likes of Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Parker and releasing his majestic four-part “Groove Juice Symphony.”

Gaillard was  tall and rail thin with a pencil mustache, a groovy, mellow, and utterly unpredictable hepcat’s hepcat, and was deeply respected within the jazz community. While playing a stint at a little club in San Francisco in the late ‘40s, he met Jack Kerouac and Neal Cassady, whom he  says hun out at the club eight nights a week. They became good friends, Gaillard being impressed by their deep understanding and love of the music. Kerouac would later immortalize Gaillard by famously recounting the meeting in On the Road. (It’s also interesting to note that during a 1968 episode of William Buckley’s Firing Line, a very drunken Kerouac interrupted the discussion about the hippie movement with an impromptu rendition of “Flat Foot Floogie.”)

By the late 1950s, however, the music scene had started to change, rock’n’roll was coming to dominate the airwaves, the jazz clubs which had lined Manhattan’s 52nd Street were shutting down, and Gaillard was starting to feel like he no longer belonged. It’s unclear if the 1957 release of Little Richard’s “Tutti Frutti” had anything to do with this perception. The song was of course a massive hit and is today considered a fundamental, defining classic of early rock’n’roll. True to form, Little Richard refused to acknowledge the song (down to the “Tutti Frutti-o-roottee” chorus) was simply a bowdlerized version of Slim and Slam’s 1938 hit of the same name. Little Richard fans insist up and down they were two completely different and unrelated songs since the Slim and Slam version was about ice cream not girls, but when the singer himself notes his original title was “Tutti Frutti McVouty,” well, there you go.

Gaillard insisted he had nothing against the new music, but it simply wasn’t his scene, so by the end of the decade he stopped recording, stopped performing, dropped out and started looking for something else to do.

For an entertainer of his range, ability and goofy charisma, the choice seemed easy, and he picked up and moved to California. Although often cast as musicians who bore an uncanny resemblance to Slim Gaillard, over the next two decades he would appear opposite Bobby Darin and Stella Stevens in John Cassavetes 1961 feature Too Late Blues and in the 1958 Harlem Globetrotters movie Go, Man, Go! He had guest spots on Marcus Welby, M.D., Charlie’s Angels and Medical Center. He played Sam, the baseball expert in Roots: The Next Generation, and Raymond Burr’s butler in Love’s Savage Fury. Although he claims he was one of the gorillas in 1968’s Planet of the Apes, I honestly can find no verification of this, no matter how much I want to believe it.

After a dinner with Dizzy Gillespie around 1980, Gaillard decided to return to his one true calling. He  signed on for a number of jazz festivals throughout Europe, and started work on a couple new albums. Also at Dizzy’s recommendation, Gaillard picked up again in 1983 and moved to London, where the atmosphere was much more welcoming for American jazz greats than it was in the States.

As if to prove a point, shortly after his arrival, Gaillard was approached by the BBC, which produced a remarkable four-part, four-hour documentary about his life and career. Slim Gaillard Civilization allowed Gaillard to tell his own story, combining archive footage with clips from recent performances, conversations between Gaillard and old friends, candid shots of a family get-together in California (his daughter Jan was married to Marvin Gaye), a few impromptu songs, and even some dramatic recreations of scenes from his childhood. Gaillard’s slow, gentle and simple poetic narration leaves his tale sounding like a children’s bedtime story, which is the overall form the documentary takes.

He was a little slower, a little more, yes, mellow, and the manic energy of half-a decade earlier had ebbed a bit. A new recording of “How High the Moon?” seemed staid and over-rehearsed, even a little bored compared with the unpredictable and mad anarchic ad-libbing of his original 1947 recording, but remains uniquely his own. More than anything, there was a new and unexpected air of melancholy about the 68-year-old, much of it focused on a scene from his childhood. As he was leaving Cuba with his father for what would be the last time, Gaillard had been instructed not to look back, because he would see his mother standing there on the dock and want to go home. He did as he was told, never once thinking he would never see her again. After being abandoned in Crete, he never saw either of his parents again.

Gaillard died in 1991 at age 75, and is mostly remembered today as a novelty act, a kind of clown prince of jazz, but he’d led a singularly American life for someone who didn’t speak English until he was 16, and remains one of the most unique, eccentric, and insanely talented musical entertainers the country’s produced.

O-Roonee.

Jim Knipfel

[mdomroe-blog1]

TecKed Out

OUTLOOK

Everyone has their own personal favorite social media influencers, whether that be Youtubers like, Keaton Milburn, Fitness Bloggers like Tammy Hembrow, or top models like Hailey Bieber. These three famous influencers have three main characteristics in common. They are tall, skinny, and blonde. Growing up I had a great childhood, I was carefree and never had a second thought about the way I looked. In later middle school when I became a part of the social media world these things changed.  I started to see the differences that I had from other girls my age and noticed I never could compete with some girls.

[Keaton Milburn is a 21-year-old social media influencer, courtesy of AZ Foothills.]

I’m not here to tell you that skinny blonde girls need to be exterminated from society or to tell you to stop using social media. I’m writing this blog to raise awareness of future implications extreme social media and technology usage could bring to the next generation of young adults. Compared with other developed nations, Americans are more likely to have a higher amount of screen-time than almost any other western society. According to Common Sense Media,  American youth, ages 8-18 spend an average of nine hours using any source of media. Instead of living an active lifestyle and learning lifelong skills, we are training  our youth to live behind the screen while emphasizing the importance of technical literacy in the workplace. Brianna Crowley compared the older generation to be more of “digital immigrants’” rather than “digital natives”. However, we are not preparing the “digital natives” for the real world, we are teaching them to live like lifeless computer-oriented zombies. Employers are more inclined to hire someone with both computer and communication skills, however CLIMB professional Development and Training ranked strong communication as the top answer. As a society we need to be conscientious of the negative impact’s technology can bring, so we can work toward a well-rounded lifestyle.

[This illustration shows this woman’s struggle to detach herself from social media. (Thrillist)]

MENTAL HEALTH

In 2014 Nielson performed a study to show the negative effects technology has on the developing teen brain, this study showed how technology has negative effects on sleep patterns, self-confidence, social skills, emotions, and personality in teens. Nielson highlights the negatives of social media as a whole, rather than demonstrate what a person goes through on a more intimate level, which is so important to acknowledge. As technology has risen, personal hatred towards one’s own body became extremely prominent. Girls and boys saw true differences between their bodies and ones of famous influencers, which then made teens try and work towards a more “likeable” image. Teens will do anything to fit in, going anywhere from posting scandalous photos to starving themselves, because that is what their favorite celebrity does.  The Girl Scouts Research Institute found that ½ of every teen women wish they were as skinny as fashion models. I think it is horrible to see how many girls are affected by social media, if they weren’t subjected to mass amounts of edited content then maybe it would be easy to differentiate between what is real and what is fake.

Body image is something that usually has a negative connotation. When you’re a teen you have so many different things to worry about. Teens stress about the craziest things, personally I have stressed about how my new perfume smelled for hours. I think with just simple posts a teen can completely misconstrue the meaning behind the initial post and work-up their emotions in response. Our brain has been rewired since I was a kid. According to Stephanie Hertzenberg; from Beliefnet, there is a direct connection between your brains ability to process a large influx of information, and the ability to retain information. This recent catastrophe is referred to as “popcorn brain”, and if the brain is subjected to a large amount of stimuli for long periods of time, then the brain will no longer retain large portions of information.

Not only does over indulgence of social media lead to poor cognitive function it also is a main trigger of anxiety and depression. It is so easy to see posts on your feed and compare the amount of likes you receive to another young teen, but while some of us just see that like as a number others take that number to heart. In 2017 the Child Mind Institute conducted a study that shows 92% of teens use or own a smartphone. The Child Mind Institute also found that in half a million high-schoolers depressive symptoms have increased 33% in a five-year span. In that same time teen girls experienced a 65% increase in suicide rates. Technology is a great thing and allows for millions of people to connect from all over the world, but when people feel bad about themselves after going online then why should we promote its use. We should not let cyberbullying be something in this world that could trigger someone to take their own life.  Jennifer Mills; a renowned Canadian Psychologist speaks on body image and says teens "… felt worse about their own appearance after looking at social media pages of someone that they perceived to be more attractive than them...". Many are quick to see negatives within this quotation; however, I believe we need to not see it as a negative but see it as an opportunity to change young tech users outlook when on social media. Instead of viewing it as a competition, we need to teach developing youth that it is a form of finding information on others.

[This photo symbolizes how she sees herself based upon others words, and how they stick on her (Social Media Effecting Body Image).]

TECHNOLOGICAL INNOVATIONS

We have seen our society move up the ladder with new innovations, with large technology companies constantly working towards releasing the newest update. Apple is the leading tech company in the world and is a great example of a company with a fast turnover rate. Within the last decade, we have moved into the realm of smartphones. With technology at our fingertips our citizens live a very efficient lifestyle. You can completely live a paperless lifestyles if truly necessary, but that may lead to a dependence on any given device. Women and men are constantly on popular modes of social media like YouTube, Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook. If our society is on average spending nine hours on a device, then a large amount of that time is spent on social media. Constant time spent on social media updates teens on the newest tech trends being released, this inclines people to buy more and more products that have very little differences. Zac Hall exemplifies the fast technology turnover rate, by showing how every September Apple releases a completely new model, then just makes small adjustments and rebrands throughout the year. This marketing scheme is what makes Apple and other companies so successful, however they do not show how the consumer is constantly updating to stay hip to cultural trends.

[This is a chart that shows the large increase of price on Apple products (Phillipine Peso.]

PERSONAL REFLECTION

When I was a freshmen in high school, I was completely naïve to all the mean girls in school and what their words could do. I was a pretty shy girl and did not really get into deep conversations with “the cool kids”. One day I had class with this beautiful popular girl named Rachel and she was seated in my table group. I was pretty excited to be in a cool table group, and for her to even know my name. A few weeks went by and I thought Rachel and I had really hit it off on multiple occasions. Little did I know that she was purposefully manipulating me for pure enjoyment. I had found out that she posted a photo on her Snapchat story of me wearing shorts with white paint on the butt. This white stain led to many sexual jokes that I was not expecting nor wanting.

In conclusion, although Rachel and I do not talk anymore her words still linger with me to this day. I feel that without the monumental tear to my self-confidence I would not have grown to be a strong independent leader. I am currently writing this from my hotel room where I am staying in Nashville. I was selected to attend a Leadership Conference here and I truly think back to that time where social media destroyed me, and how I have grown from that experience. Overall, I believe technology has allowed us to transform society and grow into what we are today, but without proper guidance it can go extremely bad.

[These are unfortunately the very old shorts that I got made fun of for when I was so young. Ironically, I brought them to wear to bed.]

[This is me and Jacquelyn Kelly pictured above at the Leadership Conference this past weekend.]