#there is probably missing things but it's all i can think of

[astonmartinii]

i will always love you | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x fem bodyguard reader

what he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with his bodyguard? this IS a rom com

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

f1insider

liked by user1, user2 and 45.925 others

f1insider: red bull have confirmed that max verstappen will have a bodyguard for the rest of this season after increasingly aggressive fan activity towards drivers at races. what do you think about it?

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user3: i completely understand that it’s insane that it’s gotten to the point where he needs a bodyguard …. but like JEALOUS

user4: i pray there’s never any need for her to do her actual job

user5: f1 need to sort it out i agree

user4: i meant because i would be no better than a man im sorry god but i want to watch her fight someone 😫

user6: this should’ve been done so long ago but i’m glad they’ve finally made the step

user7: what i find crazy is that people can afford a paddock pass and wanna fight the drivers ??? what a waste of money GIVE THEM TO ME

user8: i’m being completely serious when i say … any punk ass influencer tries to film max in the bathroom i want this bodyguard to shoot them with a gun

user9: no i agree

user10: and when i do it on purpose so she can beat the shit out of me ??

user11: choke

user12: she look familiar to any of you?

user13: i thought i had seen her before but like i just can’t quite recall

user14: swiftie here! she was taylor’s bodyguard for a couple years so you probably have seen her in paparazzi photos or something

user15: taylor swift and now max verstappen i need her agent

user16: the thought of that massive hunk of a man cowering behind her is killing me

user17: it’s killing you? it’s getting me excited this is so romance book coded

user18: you people’s obsession with putting people in “relationship” is the worst thing to happen to the sport

user19: i agree! (they would be unbelievably cute)

user20: i’m glad to see we’re all being very serious about the state of the sport where a driver needs a bodyguard and not the fact that said bodyguard is visually appealing

user21: sky i will deal with your bias if you give us the visual on her

user20: jesus wept

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 120,399 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: new job, same friendship bracelets

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user22: WE FOUND YOU

user23: hi mother !!!!

user24: we miss you serving face with taylor :(

maxverstappen1: you were a bodyguard for TAYLOR SWIFT ???

yourusername: you didn't read my CV? you had the last say on me being hired?

maxverstappen1: i let GP read them and he's never steered me wrong before

yourusername: that seems irresponsible

maxverstappen1: ANYWAY my point was going to be ... can we still get eras tour tickets?

yourusername: i can see what i can do

maxverstappen1: what if you just called taylor up?

yourusername: do NOT reference the kardashians if you want tickets

maxverstappen1: noted :3

user25: i can't have anything in this life ??? what do you mean you've worked with taylor and max?

user26: she looks so hot with a gun i'm starting to think the NRA are on to something

yourusername: absolutely not get out of here with that shit

user27: oh she educated as well? will you accept my hand in marriage?

maxverstappen1: 🤨

landonorris: and if i said you could guard me all night

yourusername: it's kinda my job to guard max all night

landonorris: but you'd rather guard me 😉

yourusername: i doubt you'd pay me as well as max

landonorris: i can pay you other ways 😉

maxverstappen1: lando i will break your fingers one by one

user28: max is out here like SHE IS MY BODYGUARD

user29: him being possessive... idk where to look but both of them - mark me scared AND horny

user30: TOO REAL

maxverstappen1

liked by schecoperez, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,452,099 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: simply lovely to be back on the top step in brazil, @yourusername you're clearly my lucky charm

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user31: max does a generational drive and immediately gets on instagram to flirt with his bodyguard

user32: he's so real for that because look at y/n

user33: i once thought swifties were crazy for being so obsessed with her but now i am just as bad lol

yourusername: nuh uh that drive was all you big boy

maxverstappen1: heheheehehe

maxverstappen1: did i make a good first impression?

yourusername: a very good first impression ;)

maxverstappen1: are you proud of me?

yourusername: very proud maxy

maxverstappen1: :3 thank you <3

user34: what in praise kink did i just read?

user35: i know he's done it in a very public forum but just leave them to do whatever they gotta do

user36: i know this man saw her in a suit and with a gun and fell to his knees

yourusername: well... close enough!

landonorris: idc about all of that ^^ i'm still going to shoot my shot

yourusername: is me rejecting you luck or talent?

landonorris: HUH ?????

yourusername: i may just be a bodyguard but i still have working ears 👍

user37: okay so she does serve more than just looks ...

user38: she's got a fan in me now

charles_leclerc: let me just sit back and observe

yourusername: you good?

charles_leclerc: i am sitting back and observing

yourusername: you are observing very loudly

charles_leclerc: i am just watching max embarrass himself, this is very healing for my younger self

maxverstappen1: RUDE

yourusername: he's not embarrassing himself if it's working?

redbullracing

liked by maxverstappen1, schecoperez and 2,451,045 others

redbullracing: statement regarding today's incident.

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user42: sorry red bull but i want that video tattooed on my eye balls

user43: i am so unbelievably hot and bothered after seeing that video

user44: red bull i'm afraid you'll have to take that video out of my cold dead hands

landonorris: i didn't realise the paddock came with dinner and a show today

oscarpiastri: lando they tried to kill max...

landonorris: well he was never in any actual danger with y/n around

oscarpiastri: do you ever read the PR briefs?

landonorris: PR whats?

oscarpiastri: this is starting to make a whole lot of sense

user45: they'll try to cancel lando for this but like he's being real

user46: no because why was george russell and kimi antonelli literally in the back of the footage eating LITERAL POPCORN

user47: i've never wanted to be two people so bad

maxverstappen1: i lived bitch

yourusername: MAX????

maxverstappen1: because of you, i'm forever in debt to you <3

yourusername: just doing my job :)

maxverstappen1: so you didn't just do it because of your undying love for me :(

yourusername: i think that would be inappropriate

maxverstappen1: THAT'S NOT FAIR, THEY CAN'T TRY AND KILL ME AND YOU CAN'T SAY YOU HATE ME IN ONE DAY

yourusername: oh maxy, do you need a cup of tea

maxverstappen1: and a hug ????

yourusername: yes, even a hug

user48: oh to have max that pathetically down bad for you

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 2,309,773 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: can you people stop thirsting over my girlfriend please - i may not be able to fight but she can

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user49: HE HAD ENOUGH

user50: i mean i too think thirst comments from my literal friends would throw me over the edge

user51: he was like winning in brazil is not enough i gotta watch my gf beat the fuck out of someone and then publicly claim her

yourusername: you're puffing out your chest in the paddock when all the girls on the internet are thirsting over you - if anyone should be jealous it's me

maxverstappen1: but you're so much better than anyone else i am horrendously in love with you

yourusername: HORRENDOUSLY

maxverstappen1: i have never felt anything like this? im scared???

yourusername: no need to be scared baby i'm in for the long ride

yourusername: and i can and WILL protect you

maxverstappen1: i need to report a hostage situation? it's me in my bedroom - i need to be saved

yourusername: you're so cheesy, you're lucky i love you

user52: i have another hostage situation - it's me in this comment section

user53: watching them be in love is like torture to me i'm so lonely

user54: they need a trigger warning i fear

maxverstappen1: @landonorris @pierregasly @olliebearman suck on that

landonorris: LEAVE ME ALONE

pierregasly: don't hate the player hate the game

olliebearman: why did you say fuck me for ????

maxverstappen1: i've seen those looks ollie don't lie to me

yourusername: babe i think he might just be scared of me

olliebearman: WOMEN IN POSITIONS OF POWER SCARE ME I'M SO SORRY Y/N

yourusername: no worries ollie! max is just possessive

maxverstappen1: ugh duh! you're the best thing that has ever happened to me, obviously i want to keep you to myself

yourusername

liked by olliebearman, maxverstappen and 342,067 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: and iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii will always love you! sorry it had to be done - whitney houston is a LEGEND

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user56: of course she knows that song, she's basically living that story

user57: OF COURSE SHE KNOWS THAT SONG IT'S ONE OF THE MOST FAMOUS SONGS EVER ???

yourusername: and you can bet your ass the red bull garage have been singing it non stop since i arrived

redbullracing: singing is our passion

maxverstappen1: they'd have to kill me to keep me from you DEADASS (pun intended)

yourusername: and that won't be happening because i'll be there to protect you

maxverstappen1: i'm not opposed to watching you deal with a problem in the paddock

landonorris:WHY WAS I MADE THE BAD PERSON WHEN I SAID I WANTED TO WATCH ???

maxverstappen1: because it was my life that an attempt was made on ?

landonorris: and?

maxverstappen1: AND?

landonorris: it would've made winning the championship much easier ?

yourusername: nuh uh i would jump into that red bull and win out of spite

maxverstappen1: it's true, i've been training her up

landonorris: you gonna let me have anything

maxverstappen1: nope :P

yourusername: nope :P

user58: oh they're so annoying 😭

user59: true ride or die couples are so irritating

user60: i still wish i was them

danielricciardo: i get fired and you get a girlfriend ??? how is this fair

maxverstappen1: idk what you want me to say, i'd never give y/n up for anything

danielricciardo: not even a red bull maxiel reunion

maxverstappen1: sorry buddy, maxiel is dead

danielricciardo: EXCUSE ME?

yourusername: sorry daniel, there's a new sheriff in town - should've charmed max when you had a chance

maxverstappen1: try as he might, he'd never be you

yourusername: awwwww considering your massive teenage crush on him... i love you!

danielricciardo: so fuck me then?

fin.

note: TWO IN ONE WEEKEND WHAT?

[berryz-writes]

Blue

Azriel x reader

Summary: There's a large contrast between the warm and gentle Az you get to enjoy versus the cold and quiet demeanour he reserves for others

Note: FIRST FULL WEEK I HAVE THINGS PLANNED OUT FOR. this isn't entirely my favourite but fuck it we ball <33 enjoy lovelies

@azrielappreciationweek day 1

The kitchen is a warm, flour-dusted haven, filled with the sweet scent of sugar and vanilla as Azriel leans over my shoulder, watching me whisk the batter with an amused glint in his eyes.

“You know,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my neck, “you could just let me do that.” He slips his arms around my waist, pulling me gently against him. “Your hands might get tired.”

I laugh, nudging him with my elbow. “I think I can handle a little whisking.” I turn to face him, catching the soft, rare smile that lights his face, the one that only appears when it’s just us. I lean up, brushing a light kiss to his lips, and feel him pull me closer, his fingers resting at the small of my back.

“Hmm,” he hums, deep and quiet, his lips lingering just a moment longer. “You taste like sugar.”

“You’re distracting me,” I say, trying and failing to keep a straight face.

“Good,” he replies, his voice low. His gaze drops to the cupcakes cooling on the counter, and he raises an eyebrow. “They’re missing something.”

“Exactly,” I sigh, surveying the icing jars and realizing I’ve run out of the last colour I need. I hesitate, glancing at him, knowing he’s had a long week of missions and should probably be resting. But he just tilts his head, a patient smile on his face, like he already knows what I’m about to ask.

“Could you pick up more icing for me?” I ask, brushing a bit of flour off his cheek, unable to hide my smile. “Please?”

He chuckles softly, reaching up to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. “Anything for you.” There’s a gentle warmth in his eyes, a soft devotion that melts me from the inside out.

As he steps back, he squeezes my hand. “Save a few for me?”

“All of them,” I reply with a grin, watching as he heads to the door, wings stretching wide in the golden afternoon light. He gives me one last look before taking off, a dark silhouette against the sky.

Azriel's POV

Flying over the city, my mind lingers on her, the soft warmth of her laugh, the way her eyes light up when I walk into the room. She’s goddess incarnate, far too perfect for me.

The cold air rushes past as I fly, enjoying the time to stretch out my wings to their fullest.

But halfway through my journey, I feel Rhysand’s voice slip into my thoughts, quiet and laced with urgency.

Azriel, we have a guest in the dungeons. I need answers from him if you're available, it's urgent

I think about his words. Maybe if it had been a few months ago Rhys wouldn't have added the part of me being "available" knowing I was waiting at the chance to distract my mind. But ever since y/n walked into my life it was getting easier and easier to spend days doing nothing except enjoy her company. No torture sessions. No constant dagger sharpening. Just time spent with her.

Fine.

Was the simple reply I gave. It would only take a few minutes of my time.

The warmth I felt just minutes ago fades as I turn, heading down toward the underground jail, where shadows and silence reign. My shadows coil tighter around me, sharper, attuned to the work at hand as I descend into the dim halls of the dungeon.

The heavy door creaks open, and I step inside to find the prisoner chained to a chair, his gaze faltering as he meets mine. He tries to summon some defiance, but I can see the fear flicker beneath it, his breaths shallow as my shadows drift closer, surrounding him in darkness. This won’t take long.

I approach him slowly, letting each step echo off the stone walls. Leaning forward, I let my voice drop to a low, controlled murmur, knowing how much more effective a whisper can be. “Let's make this quick. Tell me everything you know"

I didn't have to elaborate on what I meant by everything. He knew what I was here for and I would get it one way or another.

He’s silent at first, eyes darting, and I can see him calculating his options. But there’s no fight in him, not against what he senses I’m capable of. My shadows close in, tightening like a noose around him, each word I speak dripping with cold intent.

After a slow drag of my dagger down the column of his neck the information begins to spill out, fast and frantic. I listen carefully, never blinking, absorbing each detail.

No need for lost blood; I extract every piece with surgical precision, each question laced with the promise of what could happen if he resists. Soon, he’s left shuddering, broken, and silent.

I silently thank the cauldron he didn't make this difficult otherwise I would have to clean up before getting to my wife and the thought of keeping her waiting was not something I enjoyed.

Before I leave, I pause, tilting my head as I look down at him with one last, almost casual question. “Pick a colour.”

His face twists in confusion, fear giving way to bewilderment. “Uh… blue,” he stammers, his voice barely above a whisper.

I give him a curt nod, acknowledging his choice before I turn and leave him to the shadows that linger. As I step into the fresh air aboveground, I make my way to a small shop, selecting a container of bright blue icing, a flash of colour that feels strange against the cold efficiency of what I’ve just done.

When I arrive home, I find her at the counter, surrounded by stacks of sweet heaven. She lights up as she sees me, her eyes crinkling with happiness. "Az! Thank you my love" she says, taking the container and pressing a warm kiss to my cheek.

I'd be lying if i said I didn't melt.

But then she pauses, glancing at me, a flicker of something unreadable in her gaze. “What took so long?”

I shake my head, not wanting her to worry “You don’t need to worry” I murmur, my voice gentle. “Rhys just needed something done”

She watches me closely, as if weighing my words, a knowing look in her eyes. But she doesn’t press. Instead, she smiles softly, letting her fingers brush over mine as she returns to her cupcakes.

I linger there, watching her work, feeling the lightness return to my chest as I settle back into the life we share. She doesn’t push, and I’m grateful.

With her I feel like life is worth living.

note: should have azriel year tbh

[elumish]

Part 1/? of How to Deal With the Next Four(ish) Years

Learn how to tell the difference between "their policies/rhetoric actively target me/a marginalized group" and "they have not been as successful as I hoped in protecting me/a marginalized group." I saw the rhetoric a fair amount pre-election that the Democratic Party and its policies were transphobic, that Biden failed queer people, etc. as a reason not to vote for Harris or for Democrats, and the reality is that the Democratic Party and Joe Biden have actually been pretty steadily implementing laws and policies to support and protect queer (including trans) people, and Republicans want queer/trans people to die.

If you want to protect marginalized groups, whether they're ones you're part of or not, you really need to start actively working on distinguishing between the two. And if you keep hearing that the Democrats are just as bad about a marginalized group in the US as the Republicans, actually look into that. What is the evidence? What laws have been introduced or passed by one party versus the other? What rhetoric do they use? What policies and regulations are being put in place?

And is the problem that the Democratic Party is "just as bad" or that they have not managed to stop Republican laws in red states?

None of this is to say that the Democratic Party is perfect, but in most cases only one party is actively working to harm or kill marginalized people, and it's not the Dems.

Understand the government structure that directly impacts you. Not every state or locality operates the same way, and you may have more or fewer layers of government over you with different levels of power. Do you have a town/city government and a county government, or just one or the other? How many officials are elected in your state versus appointed?

Part of that is also understanding what is controlled at the local, state, and federal level. If you're mad about a law or policy and want it to change, whose law or policy is it? Chances are, if it's about how things work for you, it's a state or local law rather than a federal one. Once you understand that, you can target any organizing efforts in the right direction.

Pick your battles. This is not to say that you shouldn't care about a lot of things, but trying to personally organize around everything will probably just make you ineffective and burn you out. Is it Palestine? Ukraine? Sudan? Environmental justice? Climate change? Immigration? Abortion? Queer rights and protections? Education? Native American rights? Criminal justice reform?

Understanding your own priorities can also help you determine what candidates you support and where you draw your red lines. I care a lot about public schools, but support for charter schools is not a red line for me in a politician. Being pro-life is.

But I'm also pragmatic--if my choice is a pro-life person who also wants all queer people to die and a pro-life person who wants to protect queer people, I will hold my nose vote for the latter rather than risk the former winning.

Start identifying what protections you and your loved ones might need that you can access now. Is it an IUD, a tubal ligation, or a vasectomy? Is it getting your legal name changed now? Is it establishing other legal protections such as power of attorney even if you're married?

Vote in every election. If you are an eligible voter, you should be a registered voter, and you should vote every single time. I think the only election I've missed in the last 5 years is the 2024 Democratic primary, and that's 50% because it was basically an uncontested race and 50% because I forgot when it was.

Primaries are where you get to have a say in who your candidate is--at all levels. Look at the policies of who is running and vote for who you want to win--whether because of policy, temperment, or any other reason.

But state and local elections are incredibly important, because they have a huge impact on your actual quality of life. Show up and vote. Vote on off years. Vote when it's just local. Vote for Board of Education, for water commissioner, for sheriff, for judges.

Voting is cheap, it's easy, and it does make a difference.

[sage-the-dragon]

(Hi, so this is in Jason’s POV with GN!reader. I hope you enjoy… this is my first time actually writing Jason so yay. Um warnings include allusion to potential suicide at the end, and reader becomes an aunt/uncle in one of the letters. Other then that it’s just Jason dealing with emotions 🙃)

The night was quiet except for the police sirens echoing throughout the city. The night was so quiet that I decided I would take off the helmet and be alone with my thoughts. A dangerous concept that I never really allowed myself to divulge into.

As I rode through the streets, letting my bike take me wherever it wanted, all my thoughts seemed to continuously circle back to them. Their laughter, their smile, all the small things that we did together before… I shook my head slightly, increasing the revs, it doesn’t matter now. They’ve moved on, they’ve forgotten me. And, it’s probably for the best.

I tried to think of anyone else, anything else. The lastest drug traffic, what black mask was up too. Anything. The hurt of being forgotten clawed at my heart, tearing its way into my chest. Tears filled my vision and I pulled off the road. Kicking the kickstand and turning off my bike, I practically through my helmet off. Inhaling and exhaling deep breaths, my body ragged with emotion of my past life. My life before what he turned me into.

I looked up and around at where I was. Freezing, I saw the overgrown rusted sign reading ‘Gotham Cemetery’. Well, I suppose I couldn’t have stayed away forever. Sighing, I made the choice to visit my grave. Trudging along the unkept, loose gravel pathway, hands in my pockets and jacket zipped up, I walked towards the barren area of my grave.

I stopped in my tracks, someone was there. Was that… are they at my grave? Faint sniffles and talking could be heard, but I couldn’t make any of it out. I side stepped to a pillar of a gravestone, hiding behind it. I don’t know exactly why I did that, I suppose I wanted to see what this person was going to do without scaring them off. I watched from the distance, as the mysterious person placed something down, a hoodie concealing their features. I continued to watch them as they stood up. As they turned to walk away, a glimpse of moonlight struck their features.

“Y/N,” I whispered. They were here… they were visiting my grave. I- I wasn’t forgotten. I nearly slapped myself for even thinking that they could have forgotten me. Never cared for me. They were too kind for that, too thoughtful, too loving…

I watched as they walked away, hands in their pockets. As they exited the cemetery, I ran wandered over there.

There it is. ‘Jason Peter Todd’ ‘A Good Soldier’.

But below the ‘heartfelt’ writing, was a seemed to be fresh bunch of red roses and a sturdy looking box, a metal box that appeared to be waterproof. Looking around the grave yard for anyone, I opened the box. Inside was piles upon piles of letters. Each addressed to… me.

So of course I did the respectful thing and opened all of them. One by one. Reading all of them.

“To my dearest Jason,

I miss you so much. Not a day nor a second goes by where I do not think about you. Now does it result in my crying most of the day, yes. But I’m okay with that. If I could trade all my tears, all my book collections, all my memories before you just to bring you back to me, I would. You were are the dearest thing in the world to me, my most perfect boy, and nothing can ever change that.

I love you.

Yours forever,

Y/N”

Tears pricked my eyes as I closed the letter just to open another one.

“To my darling Jason,

I went to school today. I haven’t been for a while because of… well, your departure. But I went today! The classes were boring, English made me think of you. Our friends say I’m not my usual self, but who can blame me. I only lost you 2 months ago. The wound is still fresh. But I know you would want me to continue school, get an education in this world, to take care of my self. It will be hard, but I know it will be worth it in the end. I’m looking forward to seeing you again, someday.

I love you.

Yours forever,

Y/N”

Each letter recited their day to me. It was like I was there, having them come home to me and telling me every little thing they did that day. Like I was watching them do it. A smile was plaster on my face as tears were streaming down my face. I barely noticed except for the few drops that landed on the paper. I was so incredibly happy, yet so incredibly sad. They didn’t forget me, they love me. Anger tore through me, I can’t believe that fucker took me away from them. But I continue reading. New emotions tearing through me with each day or week that I read. New boyfriend? Instant no, turns out that they broke up after a week. Good, still single then.

A twinge of guilt hit me as I though that as I closed the letter. They should be happy. They deserve to be happy, I shouldn’t be happy that a relationship didn’t work out because it wasn’t with me.

I continued on reading all night and into the early morning.

“To the love of my life that will forever have my heart,

I became an aunt/uncle (I’m sorry I don’t know a gender neutral term 😭) today!! I have a beautiful nephew named Ben. I’m so happy, he’s so cute and already curious for the world. He reminds me of you actually. I was a crying mess when I held him in my arms for the first time. My sister is so happy but recovering from the birth. I wish you could meet him. As I wish on every single shooting star I see, somehow wishing you back into existence with me. To have everything how it should be. You and me together.

I love you.

Yours forever,

Y/N”

As the sun’s rays started to bless the dark Gotham sky, glistening on my tear streaked face and soppy grin. I came to the last letter. The letter that they just put here today, or I suppose yesterday now.

“To my precious boy,

I love you with all my heart, and I will never stop. But times are getting hard and all I want in life is to see you again. I know it’s bad. I know I should go talk to someone, but non of them understand. Except for Dick, I see him every fortnight when he comes up to Gotham from Bludhaven. I don’t long for anything on this earth anymore than I long for your arms around me again. Your scent to envelope me again. All your clothes have lost your scent, your room in the manor is losing it too.

No one understands me like you do Jay. Every new relationship that my friends nudge me towards fail because I’m looking for you. Your caring nature, your love for classic literature, your passion for fighting for those that can’t fight for themselves. I miss you too much, and I have tried so hard these past 2 years… I know you must be disappointed in me. But you’ve surely seen me struggle these past years without you.

I love you so so much, I hope you can forgive me when we meet again very soon.

Yours forever,

Y/N”

My eyes widened as I finished the letter. My brain short circuited, not computing what I just read. They were- no I can’t let that happen. I shoved the letter back into the box with the others and ran to my bike.

No one could save me. But I damn well as going to save them.

Please Y/N, I love you too. Every wish you made has come true. I’m here now, just wait a little longer. I memorised their current address from 2 of the letters they had written. I didn’t care for the road rules, the street signs, the speed limits. I was getting them before we had a reverse Romeo and Juliet.

jason todd x reader where the reader still presumes he’s dead and visits his grave every week to give him a letter because they used to communicate through letters for fun to the point where his grave has boxes of letters. meanwhile, jason thinks reader forgot about him until he visits his own grave to see reader dropping off another letter and after they leave he takes the time to read each letter they’ve left since he died and gets emotional. okay, goodnight !

[allllium]

Jason Todd x childhood friend fem

fluff and potential angst

Jason runs into childhood friend from befor he died and she recognizes him

Back in Time

[ Jason Todd x Childhood Best Friend!Reader ]

~ Fluff, Maybe a little hurt/comfort, WC: 1,089

~ I'm so sorry this took so long 😭 Every time I went to write this it's like all ideas flew out of my head, but I finally got it done and I hope it meets your expectations<3

"Jason?"

He freezes.

He wasn't expecting to hear your voice today.

He wasn't expecting to hear your voice ever again.

Once he came back, you were gone.

He would say he tried to look for you but that isn't true. He thought your leaving was the universe telling him to leave you alone.

But now you're here. You're here and you recognize him. He doesn't know how to respond. He knows you know he heard you, otherwise he wouldn't have stopped moving.

The first thing he hears in your voice is the sadness. Not anger like he would've expected. Not even a hint of confusion. Just something sad.

After a minute of him being unmoving, clearly lost in his thoughts, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Jason." You say.

This time it's not a question.

After he hears you a second time, he brings himself to turn around and look at you.

"Hey."

"Hey." He can't tell if you're about to cry or smile.

"I'm sorry." He immediately apologizes. Maybe for leaving or maybe for not finding you. He's not quite sure.

"For what?" You ask and take a deep breath.

He sees the way tears form in your eyes and has the strange urge to cry himself.

"I don't know. I just feel like I need to."

"You don't. Dick told me what happened. That's not something you need to be sorry for." You say it so surely he doesn't know how to respond.

"I was gonna find you."

"That's not your job. I mean a phone call would've been nice." You shrug and let out a small, awkward chuckle.

"I didn't know what to do." He tells you quietly.

"I would assume." You look around the sidewalk you're on. You're standing in front of what looks like a busy shop, people walk in and out every couple seconds.

"Where did you go?" He asks you after a moment. Probably to determine whether or not he could've found you.

"I was here. I mean I stayed in Gotham just not where I was before."

"If I had known you were so close I would've gone to you but when they told you left I assumed-"

"Jason, you don't have to defend yourself." You cut him off quickly, "If I died and came back the last thing on my list would be finding someone who left."

He nods. "This might be easier if you were at least a little mad." He smiles softly at you, watching more tears shine in your eyes.

"I missed you too much to be mad right now."

He goes to say something back but someone walking by bumps into your shoulder.

"Maybe we should get coffee or something?" He suggests, not wanting to keep blocking the sidewalk traffic.

"Are you free?"

"Oh yeah, yeah." Dick can wait, he thinks to himself.

"Then yeah, coffee sounds great."

You both walk into the coffee shop and order whatever drinks sound good. Jason chooses a table against the wall and by a giant window.

You sit awkwardly in silence as you both try and think of what to say.

"How are you doing?" You ask, after multiple minutes of nothing.

"I'm okay, I think." He shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. You take notice of his fingers tapping nervously along the side of the cup.

"That's good." You nod and sigh.

"How are you?"

"I've been better." You answer honestly. Your fingers also tap nervously along your cup.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why this is so weird."

You laugh at his words, "I do. It's been a while."

"And I'm guessing we've both changed." He smiles.

"Changed? No shit Jason, look at you." You smile at him in a reassuring way. You can clearly see how dying has changed him.

"Yeah I guess I did get a little taller." He jokes and shakes his head.

"Maybe just an inch or two." You play along, laughing as you speak.

"I missed this. I missed you." He tells you with a sudden seriousness in his tone.

"Well good thing it isn't going away this time." You reach across the table and grab his hand.

It was never unusual for you and Jason to be touchy. That's just the kinda friendship you had. But this feels different.

Instead of being a friendly touch between best friends, it's more like a reassurance that's he's actually alive. A piece of you feels relief that you're not imagining this.

"I really hope so." He wishes with a frown.

"It won't. If you think I'm leaving your side anytime soon you're very very wrong."

"What's one more person to the gang that follows me everywhere?" He laughs again and squeezes your hand. It's the first time he's felt so free to last in a while.

"Where is that gang by the way? I would've expected one of them to be here by now."

"Oh I left while they weren't looking. I needed time to myself."

"You snuck out? Jason, they're probably panicking." You scold him softly.

"It's fine I'm meeting with Dick later."

You shake your head in disapproval but a smile on your face gives you away once again.

For some reason no matter how sad you are, a smile can't leave your lips.

You fall back into a silence but this time it's not awkward at all. It's a comfortable silence that reminds you of old times.

"I should probably get going. Dick will be pissed if I'm late."

"Yeah I don't doubt it." You recall the many times Dick has given long lectures about being late to anything he's involved in.

"I'll call you." He swears, standing up from his seat at the table.

"You better. I know where to find you." You stand up as well and finish off your drink.

"Yes you do." He agrees but doesn't leave.

You stand together in front of your table. Both of you are waiting for the other to move first.

Just as you're about to make the move to leave he steps forward and pulls you into a hug.

You immediately hug back and feel the tears reappear in your eyes.

"I really missed you." He whispers.

"I really missed you too." You whisper back.

You savor every moment of the embrace. Not wanting to leave out of fear that he would leave again.

But as you watch him walk away to meet with his brother, you're overcome with the happiness of knowing your best friend is here.

[puckinghischier]

Dogtooth

jack hughes x fem!reader

WARNING - SMUT!!! minors, DNI. 18+. oral!female receiving, face riding

summary: just a lil jack thot inspired by the song dogtooth by tyler, the creator

notes: this is just a repost of the little jack blurb i posted last night, i just wanted to reformat it so it’d fit in my masterlist better. but!! this is probably my favorite jack thing i’ve ever written and i’m obsessed with this song so, hope you enjoy!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

[2.3k]

dogtooth by tyler, the creator?? that song is soooooo jack coded.

it’s the right kind of cocky but also the perfect amount of loving his woman, which is exactly how i picture jack to be in a relationship.

he’s a pretty private guy, not enjoying being in the media too much and revealing a ton about his personal life. he hates media because he doesn’t like the feeling of people assuming they know everything about him. but his girl? she knows everything about this man and he basks in the fact she knows him better than anyone else.

and when he’s down for someone? oh he’s down baddddd. i mean, pining level shit. he always wants to be around her. always calling her. always texting her. he just wants her attention 24/7, no matter what he has to do to get it.

he loves to pleasure his girl. and that’s it, really. he loves any second he can spend making her feel good, any way she wants. he doesn’t even care about the reciprocation (though he does love when she returns the favor) because knowing he’s the one to satisfy her needs is enough to put him on cloud nine all by itself.

and the second jack hears this song for the first time? oh he’s got big plans for it. (and you)

you’d be sitting on the couch, waiting on jack to get home from a mid-day skate. he sent you a text telling you he was leaving the rink around thirty minutes ago, expecting him to walk through the door any second.

no sooner than the thought entered your mind, you heard the lock click, signaling his arrival. calling out a greeting, you’re met with silence. you turn your body to see why he’s ignoring you, noticing the small white ear buds stuck in each ear.

he sets his bag down at the door, no doubt filled with his sweat soiled clothes he wants you to wash. waiting on him to look up and acknowledge you, you lay your head on the plush cushions resting against the back of the couch. you watch him, never missing an opportunity to admire how pretty he is.

finally, he looks up and meets your gaze, smiling at your love-filled eyes. he pops one headphone out while walking towards you, rolling it around in his hand.

“hey, sweets,” he leans down to place a small kiss on your waiting lips.

you savor the taste of his lips, always loving their soft feel.

“tried to say hi when you walked in, but guess you couldn’t hear me,” you gesture to the one earbud still lodged in one of his ears.

he gives you a small, apologetic look. “sorry, found a new song i really like. think you will too, actually. made me think about you.”

grabbing his phone from his pocket with his free hand, the one that’s holding the small bluetooth device brushes your hair away from your own ear, comfortably resting the earbud there.

“here’s the thing though….i want you to ride my face while we listen,” he just casually tells you, not even looking up at your face, still fiddling with his phone.

you perk up, surprised at his casualness. “i- what?”

“you heard me, before i press play i want you to ride my face.”

said face in question is dead serious, not an ounce of mischief to be found.

“you…literally just walked through the front door. what happened to asking each other about our days? or discussing what we’re gonna eat for dinner?” you ask him, not knowing how to react to the sudden proposal.

he rolls his eyes playfully. “is this your way of telling me you don’t want to? because you don’t have to. just think it’d really add to the experience, s’all” he shrugs.

you still don’t know how to react to the pure casualness of it all. by the way he’s acting you’d think he’s suggesting watching a movie, not having you ride his face in the middle of the living room.

“i didn’t say i didn’t want to. it’s just a little wild for that to be one of the first things out of your mouth when you get home.”

jack snickers at your words, walking around the large sectional to occupy the spot next to you.

“not really. not for me, at least. been thinking about it all day,” he plops down beside of you, making himself comfortable.

his words shoot excitement down to your core. he’s been thinking about it all day?

before you can think of a response, you feel shuffling next to you on the plush couch. you look over to see jack laying flat on his back, head only slightly raised to look over at you expectantly.

“so, you gonna get rid of those shorts or what?” he asks, referencing your thin, cotton pajama bottoms.

“i swear to god, if i wasn’t turned on right now i’d slap you,” you grumble, standing and removing all clothing below your waist.

jack laughs a real, out loud, laugh this time, prideful in the fact that you’ve never really been able to (or wanted to) resist any of his offers.

he burrows his body further into the couch, making sure he’s in the middle of the large surface, ensuring there’s room for your knees to rest on either side of his head.

you climb to hover over his body, looking down at his hungry eyes that are glued to your bare pussy, following every movement of your body from that landmark.

“shirt off or on?” you ask him, sitting on his toned abdomen.

“off. wanna be able to play with your boobs, please,” he flicks his eyes up to your face, an innocent smile on his own as he bats his eyelashes.

“of course you do,” you remove your (his) t-shirt from your body, now completely bare as you sit on top of him.

“swear they get bigger every time i see them,” he says in awe, bringing a hand up to massage one of your full breasts. you moan as he kneads the flesh, stomach turning flips in anticipation of what’s about to take place.

“gonna press play so we can get started or you just gonna play with my tits all night?” you huff out, loving the feeling but growing needier by the second.

it takes jack a second to register what you’re saying, too lost in the feeling of the heavy skin in his hand.

“oh! yeah, almost forgot,” he reaches up to the back of the couch where he left his phone, picking it up long enough to press play.

you scoot yourself farther up his body, resting your eager core right above his chin. all you’d have to do is relax your thighs the slightest amount to make contact with his mouth. 

suddenly you hear a smooth beat ring out in one ear, assuming jack’s hearing the same.

the second you hear the lyrics “she could ride my face i don’t want nothing in return” pour out of the earbud, jack inched his face up, licking a long, deep stripe through your folds.

you allow yourself to relax, sliding your slick pussy back and forth gently, not wanting to rush.

jack’s nose brushes your clit with every movement. you sigh at the feeling, not realizing how much you needed the friction until now.

the melody in your ear continues, but none of the lyrics are registering anymore. the feeling of jack’s tongue working through you takes every ounce of your attention.

“god, fuck! jack, best idea ever,” you moan out, picking up your pace slightly.

jack groans, letting his tongue still for a moment, allowing you to work yourself over it as you please.

fighting through the bliss radiating throughout your body, you try to focus on the lyrics at least a little bit. the chorus starts repeating, but the lyrics that follow make your head fuzzy in the best way.

“she could ride my face i don’t want nothin’ in return, except for some her time and all her love, that’s my concern” is what you focus on, the words squeezing your heart and your cunt.

jack smirks into your pussy when he hears you moan, knowing exactly which lyrics elicited the reaction from your body. you’ve always been the type to get off on the sweet nothings he whispers in your ear while he fucks into you, so he knew that line in particular would be especially helpful while his mouth is otherwise occupied.

your pace increases again as the song continues on, already halfway to your release.

jack brings his hands up to hold you still, your hole mere centimeters from his waiting tongue. he guides you to lower yourself onto the muscle, encouraging a slight bobbing motion of your body.

with every depression of your cunt onto his tongue, your clit bumps onto the tip of his nose. the pressure is a delicious form of teasing, the sensation gone nearly as soon as it’s felt each time.

“please, touch me. need you to touch me, jack. so so close,” you pant out, feeling the familiar swirl of your climax forming already.

jack grunts in response, the vibrations sending waves all throughout your body and you’re convinced you can feel it in your toes.

his hands leave your hips, traveling up your body until they find your sensitive buds, pinching and playing with each pink, taut nipple.

you jolt a bit, the motion causing your clit to slam against his nose this time. you cry out at all of the various sensations all at once. full with his tongue, rough hands on your tits, and round nose scraping against your clit.

the pure stimulation of it all forces your orgasm out of you, slamming into your body with the force of a train.

“fuck!” you scream, quickly shooting a hand out to grip the back of the couch, trying to stop yourself from collapsing on jack’s face completely.

you can barely hear the words “she can ride my face i don’t want nothin’ in return, and will i ever fall in love again? i can’t confirm,” ring through your ear, the soundtrack to your release, literally.

jack continues to work his tongue in and out of your hole while you shake and convulse above him, having to chase your entrance as you move. he continues to knead your sensitive breasts, each squeeze sending small volts through your already spent nerves.

he can feel your release dripping onto his cheeks, chin, and nose. he tries to lap up as much as he can, not wanting to miss a drop of your liquid pleasure.

your taste alone was enough to form the wet spot on his grey sweats, not embarrassed in the slightest he’s literally leaking from how turned on he is. but when he looks up at you above him, skin damp and eyes half rolled into the back of your head, mixed with the feeling of your body tightening around his tongue so harshly he can’t even pull it out, he blows his load right then and there.

he can feel the last flutters of your walls around his tongue, not stopping his movements until you pull back, having half a mind to keep going and work another orgasm out of your sensitive state. he moans through his own unprompted release, the only thing keeping him from following his sudden impulse to overstimulate you.

once the tired muscles in your thighs stop shaking, and your breath evens out, you can hear the fading of the music in your ear, signaling the end of the song. you push up slightly on your knees, detaching yourself from jack’s mouth as he chases your now swollen cunt, a small whine escaping him at the action.

“jack…the song’s over,” you manage the words somehow, in awe that he made you come in only a single song’s length.

“i can hit replay,” he rushes out, already reaching to grab his phone again.

you squeak out a slightly panicked “no,” while shaking your head, worried if he started again you might actually explode. you let yourself relax fully, scooting back so you can rest yourself on his lower abdomen once again, but the feeling of something wet stops you.

jerking back up, you turn and look down, spotting the large, wet stain on his sweatpants. you can’t stop staring at it, wondering if you’re really looking at what you think you’re looking at.

“jack…did you…” you trail off, turning back around to look at him.

he smirks as he leans himself up on his elbows. “sure did, sweets. you have no clue how much i enjoyed that.”

you laugh at his pride filled face. “pretty sure i do, seeing as i just sat on the evidence.”

he simply shrugs, patting your bare ass lightly to signal you to stand. you swing your legs over his body, standing and bending over to pick up your discarded underwear and slide it back up your legs.

“so….about that dinner conversation,” you ask him as he stands, suddenly way hungrier than you were when he first got home.

it’s his turn to laugh at you, walking over and removing the now silent earbud from your ear.

“whatever you want is fine with me. i already ate,” he gives you a kiss on the forehead then turns to walk towards the bedroom.

“oh…not even right, you dick,” you huff, following it with telling him you’re ordering his least favorite take out, a punishment for his sass.

making your way to the kitchen to dig through the different take out menus, you hear jack shout your name once again.

“i was thinking, how do you feel about that being our wedding song?” he asks, poking his now shirtless, but clean sweats clad, figure out of the bedroom door.

“jack!” you shout, scolding him as his loud cackle rings out around you, causing your own amused smile to break out on your face.

[cadaveerie]

cw: child abuse and non-sexual grooming

VEILGUARD SPOILERS (from lucanis' writing, a mission towards the ending and a little general)

About Lucanis and the Antivan Crows...

after finishing datv, I can finally say for sure that despite the fact that i find this game was overall fine, there are several things about it that have disappointed me. one of those things is about lucanis (and it's not even the only thing about lucanis that bothers me, but we'll leave that discussion for another time, because there's a lot to say about the writing).

in this game, Caterina Dellamorte (lucanis and illario's grandmother) is portrayed as a woman that's cold and demanding. not particularly nice, lucanis fully acknowledges that she's not exactly the loving type, and it's easy to assume things about her and about their relationship based on that... but for some reason it's never addressed that she abused lucanis when he was a child, by beating him and starving him. this is something that you can read in lucanis' story in tevinter nights, the wigmaker job, which was lucanis' introduction.

"Memories of sweat-filled days without food or water came unbidden Lucanis’s back tingled from where his grandmother’s cane had bruised his flesh for letting his guard down or fumbling his footwork. For years, he’d hated her. But his time as a Master taught Lucanis that Caterina’s cruelty was her way he was prepared for this life—that he survived."

I was waiting to finish the game before I said it, because I expected him to mention at some point but... no, nothing. I don't know if there's anything in a codex or something specific I missed, but even if that's the case, I expected it to be significant at all. it wasn't.

i'm not even going to get into what lucanis should feel about this. before the game came out i talked about some of my hopes for him based on the info we had about him, and imo there was not even half of that level of depth to his character. but i wouldnt have minded if the game went in another direction, or if lucanis simply just wasnt open to discuss it, or if he came to the conclusion that it was fine. i won't get into how "problematic" thinking that is, because i could understand that he tells himself that, and as a fucking assassin, i understand that he's come to terms with it because otherwise he probably wouldnt have survived in such a dangerous enviroment. i won't get into it bc as i said, i can understand it. my problem is that lucanis never says it. he never tells rook or anyone else that caterina abused him, or that the crows overall are very abusive and that they do this to children and break their minds basically in order to become emotionless living weapons. and if this is said in any banter, then i missed it in my 91h of gameplay, and i had lucanis in my party every single time we went outside. or it might be in a codex entry, idk. the point is that even if that's the case, that's not a great way to tell this info, especially when in the story theres no other way to learn anything like this about the crows. ppl that i talked to that didnt read tevinter nights didnt know this fact abt caterina and lucanis' past, they simply didnt cause how could they. I just wanted to say this because I think it's important to know if you like lucanis, or the antivan crows, and it's never even actually implied.

I also have many other issues with his writing, but the antivan crows are unfortunately also whitewashed. at least if you've played dragon age origins you know this, but our first antivan crow companion, zevran, talks about how he was taken as a child by the antivan crows. how he was literally bought by them as an orphan, and forced to become an assassin, and when he tries to flee, they attempt to murder him throughout the game. he even talks about how apparently some crows even made their members go through blood magic rituals to acquire abilities (SOUND FAMILIAR? IT'S LITERALLY WHAT ZARA DOES TO LUCANIS, ISN'T IT. HOW FUCKED UP). i think it's so disrespectful to dragon age's worldbuilding and so appalling that they simply... ignored all of this. I'm very upset that this was completely whitewashed. i wont get into it, but i assume they didn't show the crows being awful because, well... they have to be the good alternative for government in antiva. the bad guys are the antaam, and that's it. but one of the things i always loved about dragon age is how they treat these sort of political things. as i said, in origins the crows were more of an antagonistic figure, but at least it made them feel more real and serious. and people loved the crows like they were, fucked up assassins. in this game... idk, am i supposed to believe the assassin guys are nice? why hide the ugly? of course it's gonna be there, and it's ok. irl it happens a lot that oppressed people have to rely on groups that are less than ideal for their liberation, and a lot of times citizens are kinda ok w it bc no one else will stand up for them, so they have to work w what they have, and they're just relieved theres someone there for them. and it also shows that people are not perfect victims. if you're putting ppl in a corner, at some point ppl are rarely gonna care about being "good", and it's only human. and im not even gonna get into being an antivan crow rook because... sigh, it's more of the same. just disappointing. rook even mentions that theyre an orphan. and im pretty sure in the final mission about treviso, at least if you helped jacobus, he is like "i'll take in orphans and give them a chance". oh man, yeah. cool. please tell me how you'll raise them to be, im so curious to see how you won't groom children and abuse them into becoming mindless cold soldiers. that's fucking insane. this feels like fucking US army levels of propaganda and grooming. i love when we normalize child soldiers that's so fucking awesome i love this "woke" game when it's pro-military and anti-fucking-questioning-anything-a-military-force-does.

i even wondered if all of this has been retconned or simply ignored. i dont have a problem w retconning overall, and it's only natural it would happen in a franchise that's as old as DA, but the thing is... why would you do it. it literally just makes them flatter, it doesn't make any fucking sense.

so yes. im VERY disappointed in this game and the writing. this is one of the many things in the writing that disappointed me. the antivan crows are an organization that bring hope, and im perfectly fine with them being portrayed as "saviors", but im not ok with them conveniently not addressing any of their very bad issues. it's unrealistic. it's disrespectful to our intelligence, to dragon age fans and to dragon age origins. it's disrespectful to characters like zevran, who got into an insane war with them for a fucking reason. it's disrespectful to every antivan crow character to be honest. and im sorry, i dont even think this is insane to ask from them. like.... im literally just asking for consistency. they had it already, i dont understand why they did this. i had faith in them, but perhaps that's on me. im so heartbroken.

and i promise i actually think the game overall is ok. it was fun. definitely one of my least favorite games, if not my least favorite, but still. i appreciate it, and LOVED. LOVEEED some scenes. in fact, it might have at the very least one of my favorite scenes from the whole franchise. i think this game has very low points, and very high points, so it's hard to say what i think about it in few words.... but there are so many things like this in the writing, and it's just SO upsetting and disrespectful. im sorry. im truly sorry, you don't know how much i wanted to love this game and the writing. you have no idea. but i have self respect, and i don't lie to myself when i see something i dont like. it feels like they're whitewashing the crows cause we'd be too stupid to understand complex political issues. i thought this game was mature and could handle mature themes, but it doesnt seem like it's the case anymore. perhaps bioware is dead. i still want to believe they can come back from this but......... the post credit scene doesnt reassure me AT ALL. sigh. im just upset and sad. and as i said, this is only one of my many issues. i'll talk about the rest in the future, but im writing all of it down and i need time for that. i hope you understand that this comes from a place of genuine love. sorry i can't be happy about this game, but some of the stuff i see just ruins the rest for me.

edit: someone told me that apparently theres a banter when you go to dellamorte's villa and lucanis *implies* that he was beat by his grandmother (at least to another antivan crow rook). this whole post still stands though. i think that should have not been a banter that i (and im sure others) missed. and again, it also ties to how i think the crows as an organization and their methods were whitewashed. even if it's not particularly a lucanis problem, it could have been to some extent addressed by him.

[glitter-stained]

Agreed! And personally when I say he should mess up, he should mess up greatly. This is probably because I'm starved for representation of abuse that doesn't portraits abusers as monsters evidently evil and full of ill intent, but I'm totally down for abusive Bruce Wayne. Yeah, sure, have the literal Batman berate and psychologically abuse his kids, neglect to address super important stuff in their background only for it to blow up in your face when they're confronted with it on the field, I'm even down for him to hurt his kids! As long as the narrative doesn't agree with it.

The thing is, with the narrative (and some takes from some very hardcore fans) is "this isn't actually abuse because you're missing key context". And then you look up and the context can be super complicated, with a whole lot of intense stuff going on, and it can be a very good explanation for what is happening, and it is still abuse. I think the issue is with the portrayal we usually have of it we see "abusive" as a personality trait, something really bad people do. It's safe, and comfortable, and it allows us to feel comfortable in our knowledge that because we're trying our best, we couldn't possibly accidentally become abusive. And on that ground, it's perfectly valid to refuse your childhood hero being some terrible monster who hits his kids! But the thing is, abuse isn't a personality trait, it's an action, and actions are extremely context dependent. If you're in an extremely high emotional situation, and trying to handle three different crises at once, and your child is being intrusive while you just need some space and you're mental ill and having an episode and you hit your child -that is still physical abuse. (And yeah, you can also abuse your adult children). And that means you have to acknowledge that it was abuse and it hurt them and you shouldn't have done it. What that doesn't mean is you have to define yourself as a horrible person and a failed parent.

The danger resides in two complementary courses of thinking that follow from these ideas :

1. abusers are awful and terrible. + i hurt my child, doing something that follows usual definitions of child abuse. + I know that there was a lot of context going on and I feel like it's not fair to define myself just based on that action while ignoring the context = I don't fit my conception of an abusive person because of the context = the context means that I wasn't abusive = the context justifies taking actions that would be usually characterized as abusive => chronicization of abuse.

2. abusers are awful and terrible. + my parent hurt me doing something that follows usual definitions of child abuse + I know that there was a lot of context going on and I feel like it's not fair to define my parent, whomst I love and consider good, just based on that action while ignoring the context = they don't fit my characterization of abusive parents because of the context = the context means they weren't abusive = the context justifies actions that would otherwise be characterized as abusive = I wasn't actually abused = child doesn't speak up /avoids potential help/remains in the unsafe situation.

These are called justificative thoughts! And of course, we get similar thoughts in bystanders who know there's a lot of context going on, know the abuser personally etc. (They also work with intimate partner violence and even murder!) Examples include the all time famous "but he loves me!", "it's not what it looks like, she was only trying to keep me safe", "but what if I'm not stern enough and he grows up and become a criminal? He'll get hurt worse in prison, I'm protecting him!" "He can't possibly be an abuser, he's so kind! He was so sweet when he supported me after my mother died!"

The thing with the "you know I'm only doing this to protect you" line is we often know it as a very vicious manipulation technique. But it's not always the case! It's not necessarily a lie. Punitive abuse isn't (necessarily) practiced for the pleasure of hurting the child, it's a parent trying to raise their child and believing that this is the best way to teach them. That's why it's so important to acknowledge that good intentions in abuse exist and they don't justify it! Whether or not someone is lying to you, manipulating you or not when telling you this isn't what matters most: it's that right now, they feel hurting you is an acceptable way to get to that result, and it's still abusive, and you don't have to accept it just because they mean well.

So yeah, I'm pissed off when dc does exactly that, brushes Bruce being abusive aside and justifies it time and time again instead of addressing the abuse. I think the reason I personally want abusive Batman rather than a huge retcon is that a hero, someone who does so much good and tries and fights so hard to protect what he loves, someone like that failing so bad at parenting and then learning and becoming better, would have been revolutionary growing up. Still would be today, honestly. We need to humanize abuse, because we're gonna feel empathy towards abusers whether we like it or not and we have to choose if we avoid the discomfort it causes by using that empathy to justify not acknowledging the abuse, or treat abusers as human people that are capable of learning, that are sensitive to context (internal and external) and that can be, on many other fronts, perfectly good people. Instead, dc feeds us heaps of justificative thoughts like it's their personal mission because THEY have the same thoughts and don't want to contend with batman being "a dirty evil abuser" but they also love their edginess and shock value too much to stop writing conflict the only way they know how. And like, I know they're not gonna address it the way I want them to but then at least stop doing it- straight up stop portraying batman as abusive and justifying past abusive actions - and bury it under enough new, better batman/batfam stories that we can put this behind us as some kind of "edgy batman dark age". At this point that's all I'm asking, my expectations are so low but come on. I'm so tired.

The thing is that DC’s consistent choice to have Jason Todd blame himself for his own murder comes across less as maturity (the intent) and more like his self-esteem is so far down the toilet it’s been filtered through the Gotham water treatment facility and is currently being sprayed over Wayne Manor’s lawn.

[xinganhao]

✏️ film major!mingyu x reader.

"the greatest films of all time were never made"? not if your ex, film student mingyu, can help it ✶ part of my svt university milestone event

⤿ college exes, exes to friends. more content under the cut. ♡⸝⸝ prompt from @taeraegyat & @gyubakeries!

DIR. BY KIM MINGYU

FADE IN INT. CINEMA '76, LOBBY - DAY

MINGYU enters with his DATE. MINGYU's eyes go wide when he notices YOU at the cinema's snack bar.

DATE Do you want some popcorn?

MINGYU (hesitant) Uh… Isn't it kind of expensive?

DATE shoots MINGYU a look. He heaves out a longsuffering sigh.

MINGYU Okay, I'll get us some.

MINGYU makes his way to the snack bar. YOU look up. His eyebrows furrow, because he can't read the look on your face as well as he used to.

MINGYU Hey, look—

YOU (interrupting) Welcome to Cinema '76. What can I get you?

MINGYU feels his heart drop in his stomach. He wants to explain, but then DATE comes up to him.

DATE Can you get us some soda, too?

MINGYU wishes he hadn't noticed the slight change in YOUR expression. But YOU keep your cool as you go to punch in the order.

YOU A large popcorn and two sodas. Anything else?

MINGYU I—

DATE And a pack of M&Ms, please.

YOU Got it.

MINGYU watches helplessly as you go get their snacks. When YOU return, he wordlessly hands over the payment. The tips of your fingers brush.

MINGYU (softly) Thanks.

YOU only give MINGYU a nod in response. He winces slightly when DATE grabs him by the arm.

DATE We'll miss the previews!

MINGYU Right, right.

MUSIC UP: "You Were Beautiful" by DAY6

MINGYU lets DATE drag him off. He casts one glance over his shoulder at YOU, except YOU'RE not even looking at him. Somehow, that's even worse.

INT. CINEMA '76, CINEMA 1 - DAY

The film is one of those cheesy romcoms. MINGYU thinks about how YOU had introduced him to his favorite romcom; how the two of you used to spend hours and hours debating over which was best.

His DATE leans over a lot to comment on things, he notices.

DATE (pressing close to MINGYU) I think Glen Powell is severely underrated...

MINGYU laughs, just a bit, because his first thought is how YOU would react to that opinion. He's also imagining the look on YOUR face if YOU saw somebody talking during a film.

YOU only allowed movie commentary if it was in the comfort of YOUR home. Otherwise, in public places like cinemas? YOU would glare daggers at anybody who dared.

DATE (CONT'D) ... And that's kind of like Sydney Sweeney, isn't it?

Crap. MINGYU has no idea what DATE had just said.

MINGYU (whispering) Yeah, I agree.

His DATE seems placated. Close call, thinks MINGYU. But he's also thinking about how the two of you would argue about everything. How YOU would never back down on YOUR opinion, and how he adored YOU for all YOUR convictions.

DATE goes to hold MINGYU's hand. He almost flinches away. But that would be rude, so he awkwardly lets them hold on.

It's cruel, but throughout the movie, MINGYU bears it by imagining that it's YOUR hand instead.

INT. CINEMA '76, LOBBY - EARLY EVENING

MINGYU emerges from the movie with DATE. He immediately drops their hand.

MINGYU Hey, uh, I think I was short on change from the cashier. Mind if I go check on that real quick?

DATE Oh, sure. I'll wait for you by the entrance.

MINGYU Thanks.

MINGYU rushes back to the snack bar. YOU'RE nowhere to be found. He checks his watch; YOUR shift has probably ended.

MINGYU (underneath his breath) Damn it.

MINGYU had wanted to explain. He does the next best thing. He fishes out his phone from his pocket and pulls up your contact, which is still your name with a heart emoji. He hasn't changed it after all this time.

He types and retypes several texts. When did you start working at Cinema '76? and You looked good and Can we talk, please? and I wished it was you during the entire two-hour runtime of the film.

In the end, he only sends out an I'm sorry.

MINGYU puts his phone away. He wanders back to DATE, who greets him with a helluva good question; they're looking at the posters for upcoming shows.

DATE (absentmindedly) How do you feel about sequels?

And, again, MINGYU is thinking of YOU.

MINGYU I think they're always worth a shot.

FIN.

[twisted-broth]

Any of the boys you want do a challenge where (they aren't dating yet) but they are at a fair and they win a bear or a prize and s/o gives them a kiss on the cheek for how many they win and s/o says if they win 10 or more they will give them a kiss on the lips and spend a week together with just them (maybe show like if some did get the kiss and how they would react?) I thought this was cute lol

This has been sitting in my drafts for like a year so I just figured I would post the parts of it that were done.

Leave it to Crowley and Grim to get you into this situation. “Every dorm has to have a booth at the fair, prefect! Maybe you’ll even earn enough money to make some renovations to that shoddy old place!”

Crowley failed to take into consideration how making a carnival attraction costs money to be any good. Any cafe service would need more money and supplies than you could afford, a show would need more than two people, and a game would need prizes.

Grim is not one for bright ideas, but it would seem there was no other solution that wouldn’t cost all your food money for the month. So this is what it came to.

“Knock down all the pins and win a kiss on the cheek from Ramshackle’s prefect! Hit all three targets and he’ll give you a kiss on the lips!!!!”

It was probably in your top five most embarrassing moments of your life as your cat basically prostituted you at the top of his lungs. Surely no one would actually be enticed by a prize like that, right?

Trey

"You always manage to find a way to keep things interesting, don't you? For once I'm glad to be at a school mandated event."

Feels bad. Plays anyway.

No hard feelings, right?

He tells you that you have nothing to worry about, he's really a lousy shot anyway (as if he's not the best spelldrive player on Heartslabyul)

He easily knocks down the first two stacks, but misses the third

Maybe he missed, maybe he found it in his heart to show you mercy

He not-so-subtly implies that he's sure he could find a different way to win the "grand prize"

Despite his big talk, he still has a noticeable blush when you give him a kiss on the cheek

He would also keep an eye on your booth for the rest of the day to make sure not too many people are winning

For your sake, of course

Jade

“It would seem you’ve found yourself in quite the situation there, prefect. Please find it in your heart to forgive me if I take advantage.”

This is the funniest shit Jade has ever seen

How stupid do you honestly have to be to get yourself into this predicament?

Of course he’s playing the game. The scowl on your face when he trades in his tickets to Grim for three baseballs fills him with unbridled delight

His aim is a little wonky and you sigh in relief when his first three balls miss the target

He feigns disappointment before handing over another few tickets to the cat and grabbing the balls again

Of course he was hustling you. He let you think that even for a second you would be safe from this menace. For shame

Each ball is thrown with such force that pins from the first stack fly into the other stacks, easily ensuring that Jade clears the game with ease

He calls it beginners luck. Asshole.

Has the biggest shit eating grin on his face as he leans down to your face to claim his prize

Rook

"Mon amour, what a dastardly situation you've been resigned to! Not to worry sweet dame, I shall save you from the beasts at your heels!"

You knew you were in trouble the minute Rook’s gaze happened to fall on your stall

His eyes narrow and he smirks as he makes his way over to the stall

He's visibly holding back his excitement as he trades his tickets in to Grim

His idea of "saving you" is to hog the game- and the prize- for himself

He hits every stack with effortless accuracy, game after game

The second all three stacks have been knocked down, he prances over to you and leans down for his kiss. You can practically see the flower emojis radiating off his satisfied smile

This will continue until Grim gets fed up with him scaring away customers, or Vil comes to drag him away

You got so used to kissing him that you almost do it again the next time he leans down to talk to you

[chleem]

Is it casual now?/extra II

One shot; college students drew x reader

Summary: “Baby, no attachments.” yet, you’re at his childhood home, laughing with his parents, bonding with his siblings. 

Genre: situation-ship, smut, fluff, angst,

Warnings: swearing, sex, light read, etc

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

⋆.˚ official one shot, extra I

♡⸝⸝ "fucked you in the bathroom, when we went to dinner"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Where you going?”

You ask, as Drew stands up. The warmth of his hands caressing your thighs is gone, now running through his hair. “Bathroom,” he mumbles, barely meeting your eyes. He walks off, without another glance back at the table. 

His sour mood is evident, by not only you, but all of your friends. 

To be fair, he didn’t even want to come tonight. He pleaded desperately for you to stay in with him, offering things to you that was ridiculous. Such as, doing your laundry for a month (he doesn’t even do his own). 

But you haven’t hung out with all your friends in a long time, and you missed them. So, tonight was non-negotiable with Drew. 

And he gave up with trying to reason with you, hence, why he decided to join you here, at the nice restaurant. He didn’t even make an effort to engage nicely with them, chuckling under his breath at random times and answering questions with short answers. Whenever you were talking, he would purposely distract you by touching you under the table, making it awkward for you and your friends. 

Drew knows your friends don’t like him; that’s why he’s sour. That’s also why he shows up to these hangouts, just to rub it in their faces. 

“Why did you invite him?” Lucy groans, after Drew was out of eye sight. Your five other friends of this group nod too, all letting out groans of frustration. “Hello, earth to y/n, we. Don’t. Like. Him.”

“He insisted on joining,” you shrug, forcing a smile. 

“Um, you could’ve insisted on him not joining,” Janet, another friend adds on. 

Your friend group was filled with weird people with different opinions, but one thing they’ve collectively agreed on was: they hate Drew. ‘Hate’ is a strong word, but that was the only way to describe their feelings towards Drew. 

They’ve expressed it a lot of times, so it’s become numb to you. 

“Are you guys finally together though?” Gary asks, sitting beside you. 

Oh. Every time they see you, they ask this question. 

“Of course not,” Lucy answers for you, sending you a cocky grin. One you always disliked, because it made you feel small. “Classmates, huh?”

“A really bad label,” Stacy adds on. Yeah, as if you didn’t already know. 

Great. Now it’s just your whole friend group judging you for being with Drew. Again. The last thing you needed from them.

“I visited his parents,” you aggressively say, stabbing into your food. Hopefully that will convince them Drew is a better person that what they think, right?

Wrong. They all ‘tsk’ in a disappointed manner, shaking their heads. “And…still classmates?”

“Well, he said I was his best friend,” you stuff the food in your mouth, “To his family.”

“He probably had to,” Josh speaks up this time, “and wow, is that the first time he called you his friend?” 

You don’t miss the sarcasm in his voice, and you send him a glare. He raises his hands in defense, the table laughs. 

You don’t find the humor in this situation. Why were they so judgmental towards the relationship with Drew? It’s not like he’s the biggest jackass ever. You’ve seen every side there is to Drew, they just don’t know him like you do. “Can you guys cut it off?” You say, not trying to hide the annoyance in your voice. 

“We’re just joking,” Janet laughs, glancing around, “besides, we’re worried for you.”

You chew and swallow the food in your mouth, sending her an unappreciative smile, “‘worried’ for me?”

“Yes, he’s obviously not… well, in love with you,” Janet continues, “we don’t want you with someone who clearly doesn’t care for you.”

“He cares for me,” you defend, furrowing your eyebrows at them. You look around the table, seeing your friends glance down at their food, afraid to meet your eyes. “He cares for me.”

“Sure he does,” Stacy bitterly agrees with you. That tone pisses you off. “Maybe privately, he does, but what about in public? Starting off with the most basic, labels.”

You hate how right your friends are. As rude and mean they’re being, deep down, you know they’re right. The ‘no attachments’ thing is bullshit, especially when nothing about the two of you is casual. 

Five, no close to six months, nothing about that is causal. 

“That…doesn’t matter,” you murmur. Wrong; it mattered a lot, to everyone and to you. You just hated to admit you weren’t as chill or casual as Drew was, how he made everything romantic seem friendly with you. 

When you look around, everyone is now staring at you pitifully. 

You didn’t like that. That pity stare. There’s nothing to be pity of. Bunch of people around the world right now might be having situation-ships too. Nothing to pity. Nothing to be ashamed of. 

Yeah. That’s what you keep brainwashing yourself to believe. 

‘The girl that he bangs on his couch’. Yeah. Nothing to be ashamed of. 

Your phone on the table lights up, and it reads bathroom. now. 

Drew. “Um, excuse me,” you stand up, excusing yourself to the bathroom. 

As you slowly get up and walk away, your friends weren’t very careful with the volume of their voice. You hear one of them calling you a loser, still hanging around just for a good dick to suck. 

That must be Janet. Her lonely ass must be jealous. 

But part of you knew she wasn’t wrong. You were a loser. The biggest loser to exist. The loser of losers, if that even is a thing. 

Casual. Your friends succeeded once again, in making you doubt everything with Drew. 

——

“Really boring, right?”

Drew pulls you in by the waist, a lazy smile on his lips as he stares down at you. He leans against the sink, making you stand between his legs. 

This restaurant had two bathrooms, each with their own sink inside. So, Drew took full advantage of that. 

“Hmm,” you hum carelessly. You didn’t want agree with him; you tried to make this evening nice, but his attitude towards your friends just weren’t helping. You keep your gaze around the collar of his jacket, not wanting to meet his eyes. 

“Something wrong?” He asks, playfulness still hinted in his words. His hand rub circles around your waist, as he tries to make eye contact with you, bending his head down to your level. 

You advert your gaze even more, now focusing on the bracelet around his wrist. Now that you think about it, he always has this on, since the day you got it for him. 

Was that casual to do? To keep the bracelet on at all times. 

“Look at me, would you?” Drew’s tone turns serious, and he pinches the side of your waist harshly.

You flinch, finally looking up at him. You meet his blue eyes, a mix of concern and something else that you can’t read. His raised eyebrows tell you that he wants you to talk, to tell him what’s on your mind. 

Should you? But, where do you even start? With his attitude tonight, or with your friend’s comments? Or with this whole casual thing, which is basically the beginning to it all.

Your lips pout on its own, resting your hands around his wrist. “That was uncalled for,” you murmur, looking down at his bracelet again. 

“What was?” Drew’s pinch one your waist is more soft this time, wanting to get the words out of you. 

“Doing that,” you say, playing with his chained bracelet. Shit. You’re gonna say it. You’re gonna call him out for his behavior. “Being rude to my friends.”

A scoff escapes Drew. He then brings his hand up to your face, forcing you to look up at him. Like second nature, you lean your face into the palm of his hand, waiting for him to explain himself. “Babe, your friends were the rude ones.”

The feeling inside your stomach is indescribable. The nickname sends you butterflies, but the words that follow don't. 

“How?” You ask, crossing your arms.  

He licks his lips, squinting his eyes at you. “It was so fucking obvious.”

“Was it?” 

“Yes- yes, it was,” Drew straightens his posture, taking his hands off you. The warmth of him is gone, now with the presence of a man trying to explain his reasonable case of being bratty. “They asked loaded questions to me this whole night.”

You furrow your eyebrows, thinking hard to the stuff they asked Drew. Shit. They were. Your friends didn’t even trying to hide their discontent with him tonight. 

“They hate me,” he adds on, “C’mon, I leave the table for like, a few minutes, and they talked shit, right?”

The way he looks at you; he challenges you to disagree with him. But you couldn’t; he was right. Your friends hate him, making you constantly doubt whatever this was with Drew. 

“Wasn’t all shit,” you lie, sending him the smallest smile ever. 

Drew makes the ‘tsk’ sound, shaking his head as he gives you a tired smile. “What they say then?” He asks, leaning back against the sink again. 

His eyes look at you in anticipation, biting down on his lips. 

You do not want to tell him what they said. It was rude, and although it was about Drew, it affected you more than it should have. The seeds of doubt are always planted by your friends, they never put you at ease with this relationship. 

You give him a lazy smile, snaking your arms around his neck. You lean in close to him, a seductive look in your eyes. “Does it matter? They talk shit, all they ever do.”

Drew’s lips slightly part, and he glances quickly down at your lips. A smile appears, “I see what you’re doing. You’re distracting me.”

You shrug lightly, before planting a small kiss on his jaw. “Is it working?”

You hear a chuckle escape from him, and his hand wraps around the back of your head. His eyes keep bouncing between your lips and eyes, smiling from ear-to-ear, “annoyingly so, you minx.”

Without another comment, Drew kisses you, soft and slow. 

You return the kiss, escalating into a whole make-out session. 

You hate how your body reacts to him; feeling a pool of wetness form between your legs. Fuck. 

Something pokes against your lower stomach, and you pull away from Drew. You glance down; he’s erected. “Shit,” you curse, as his hands slide down your body. He squeezes your ass, burying his face into your neck as he breathes the skin there. 

“I…I can’t go back to the table like this,” he murmurs, referring to his erection. 

You watch as his back rises and falls, through the sink mirror. Even with this thick white jacket he has on, you can tell his breathing has sped up. Your lips form a straight line, running your hands through his short hair. 

In the bathroom? Right in the middle of dinner? It was highly inappropriate. 

Wrapping your hands around his face, you pull him up to meet his eyes. He looks at you pleadingly, lips parted with drool on the corner of his lips. 

Fuck. How is one suppose to say no to that look? He looked as if he physically needed you; needed you to calm the… ‘growing’ in his pants. 

“Ten minutes,” you tell him, which immediately lights the spark in his eyes. He looks like a puppy! You smile at that thought, as he straightens himself, switching your positions. 

“Ten minutes? Enough for two rounds,” he teases, lifting you to sit on the sink. 

“No! One round,” you say, which gets cut off by Drew kissing you again. As much fun as two rounds sound, the longer you linger in here, the more obvious it is that the two of you are fucking. 

He groans into your mouth, spreading your legs to stand between them. His hands move fast into your dress, slipping your underwear off. The cold surface of the sink hits your thighs and pussy, adding to the heat growing within you. 

Drew trails his kisses down your neck, as your hands work on undoing his belt. 

You moan when he sucks on the sweet-spot around your neck, the belt dropping onto the floor with a hard thud. “Drew…” you moan out, messy hands tugging his hair as he continues to form hickeys around your neck. 

You want to run your hands around his stomach, chest, abs. But the jacket he has on prevents that, being zipped up the whole way. This jacket looked great on him, but would look better on the floor. 

Your hands fidget with the zipper, tugging with no luck of it moving. 

Drew pulls away from your neck, a chuckle escaping, “babe, gently.”

His hands overlaps yours, guiding you to pull the jacket zipper down. It reveals that he isn’t wearing anything inside; a feast to your eyes. “Is that why you refused to take this off?” You ask, referring to before the dinner started.

“I was invited last minute,” he shrugs the jacket off, as if it wasn’t his fault for the improvised outfit. 

“Right, but you weren’t invited,” you remind him, when he insisted on joining you when you were leaving, throwing on a random outfit nearby. You were busy putting your heels on, so you couldn’t see the moment when he got dressed. You didn’t even know he owned a jacket like this. 

“Mmhm,” his mind was elsewhere, attaching his lips to yours again. Sloppy and more lustful this time, as your hands wander around his body. It’s hot under your touch; his abs flexing as you run your hands over them. 

His hand grips onto your thigh, before moving closer to your heat. 

When the warmth of his fingers hit your pussy, you moan loudly into his mouth. 

“Shit,” he chuckles, “we’re in public, babe.”

The tip of your ears heat up too, from the embarrassment and realization that you’re in public, most likely having people hear you from the other side of the door. “Sorry,” you murmur, burying your face into his neck. 

Drew sticks two fingers into your hole, and starts thrusting at a faster speed than usual. Your breathing becomes uneven, as you try to tone down your moans. 

Drew wasn’t having it easy either, as you hear low grunts escaping him. “Fuck,” he curses, adding another digit, “you’re tight tonight.”

“Just fuck me already,” you manage to say, hands gripping on his biceps. Surely, this was enough foreplay, right? 

He chuckles again, this time at your impatience. He pulls his fingers out of you, his hands going to the back pocket of his jeans. 

The familiar gold packaging comes out, and his hands skillfully rip them open. 

“…couldn’t put on a shirt but bought a condom with you?” Laughter escapes you, as you watch him unzip his pants. 

He glances up at you, and when he sees you smiling ear-to-ear, he can’t help but match you, “wasn’t gonna show up totally unprepared, right?”

You laugh again; what an unbelievable guy. “Shirt’s optional but condom a must. Got it.”

Drew lets his pants and boxers hang around his knees, his cock standing proud. The sight immediately wipes the smile off your lips, gulping as you imagine it stuffed inside you. 

“The chances of fucking you wherever and whenever is high,” Drew says, wrapping the condom around his dick. 

He looks up at you, seeing your gaze fixed on his hard cock. A smirk helps themselves to his lips, as his hands tug on your waist. An idea flashes in his mind as he looks over your shoulder, at the big sink mirror. 

“Get off,” his voice brings you back, looking at him with confused eyes now. “C’mon, trust me.”

You let him bring you back onto the ground, before flipping you over. You see both your reflections in the mirror, your back hitting his chest, his dick poking your upper ass. 

When you meet his eyes through the mirror, you understand where this was going. 

“Watch yourself while I destroy your fucking pussy, hmm?”

Oh. Oh. Was it possible to be turned on by words? 

Drew lifts up your dress, revealing your wet core. You hold onto the sink for support, grip getting tighter when you feel Drew’s tip against your entrance. 

Then, he slips in, going deep until it’s completely nestled inside you. 

“Fuck,” you moan, glancing up at Drew. He sends you a smirk, enjoying this too. His hand goes to your stomach, and he lifts you backward, resting against his chest again. 

“Grip my hair, and keep your eyes open, alright?” His voice drops low, one hand moving to knead your breasts. 

You nod, bringing your hands behind you; one tugging gently around his hair, another around his arm that’s supporting you. 

He starts to thrust into you, rather roughly and fast. “Shit,” you moan, the sensation sending you to outer space. With his thick cock slamming into you, his hands roaming your body, your hands running through his short hair, it feels euphoric. 

Your eyes can barely stay open, as you look at the reflection in the mirror. Drew leaves a trail of sloppy kisses along your shoulder, which sends goosebumps to your skin. 

You watch as one of his hand slips between your thighs, starting to massage your pussy. “Fuck,” you moan, louder than you should be. You couldn’t help it, the pleasure was extraordinary. 

He kisses your earlobe, “i’know baby, but keep it down, alright?”

“Y-yeah,” it barely comes out, as the thrusts and massages to your core intensifies. The familiar knot in your stomach forms, informing you that you’re close. “Drew…”

His pace doesn’t stop, and when you lean your head back on his shoulder, he goes harder, “close?”

You nod with any energy left, and Drew uses his free hand to lift your face up again. He kisses your cheek, “use your words.”

You flutter your eyes open, looking at the two of you in the mirror. It was extremely hot, to see Drew filling you up, his hands all around you. The mirror starts to fog up a little, with all the grunting and pressure filling in here. 

“I’m coming,” you force out, and meet Drew’s gaze in the mirror. His blue eyes meet yours, seething with lust. 

You clench around him, your hand going around Drew’s, which is massaging your pussy. He stops massaging, and he intertwines your hands together. The stickiness doesn’t bother you; why should it?

“Fuck,” he groans, his thrusts to your g-spot growing sloppy. 

You tilt your head sideways, and you give him a quick kiss, which sends you over the edge. Your orgasm explodes inside of you, cum dripping out and over Drew’s cock. 

Body giving up, you lean completely against Drew, as he helps himself to his. His cock twitches, and you feel the familiar hot liquid filling up. 

Both of you are breathing heavily, euphoria radiating off your bodies. Fuck. This might just be one of the best fucks you’ve had with Drew. But in a public restroom? Who would’ve thought. 

“You’re so hot,” he compliments, before planting a small kiss on the side of your face. 

You giggle at that stupid comment, looking at him through the mirror; He’s got a playful smile on his lips, looking at you with smitten eyes. “You’re great with your words.”

He chuckles, his hands tapping against the side of your waist, signaling you to move. You use the energy left inside of you, helping him slip out. Leaning against the sink, you watch as Drew grabs tissues to wipe your core, then throwing his condom away. 

After that, he grabs your underwear on the floor. You get yourself dressed, him doing the same thing. 

“Look, only…only seven minutes passed,” Drew comments with a sly smile on his lips, showing you his watch. 

You roll your eyes, your lips betraying you by forming a smile. “Cocky much?” 

He puts his jacket back on, the last piece of clothing. “Well, you've definitely enjoyed the taste of it.”

You hit his chest playfully, his remark sending butterflies to your stomach. He laughs, zipping his jacket only halfway. Your eyebrows furrow at his exposed chest that pierces through the top; and you reach for the zipper. 

Drew stays in place, and you feel his gaze on the top of your head, his hot breath hitting you. You ignore the tension that pulls; when you’re done, you pat his chest, “all done, buddy.”

“‘Buddy’?” There’s a hint of amusement in his tone, eyes squinting down at you. 

You send him a soft smile, seeing him glance down at your lips. “What?”

“Call me buddy one more time,” his hands wrap around your waist, and he leans closer to you, “and you’ll get it.”

His dirty and challenging tone sends shivers down your spine, something you find yourself liking a bit too much. The pit of your stomach yells at you at how hypocritical Drew was being right now, but you ignore it. 

And just because it’s fun, you lean into his ear, and whisper, “best buddy ever.”

Tickles are sent to the side of your body, making you jump and melt into his arms. You laugh uncontrollably; Drew knew you were ticklish, using it to his full advantage. 

“Stop! Stop!” You yell between laughter, your legs ready to give up. 

“Don’t call me that then,” he stops tickling you, grip on you tight to make sure you don’t fall. He kisses the tears of laughter from the corner of your eyes, “I don’t like it.”

“Noted,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck. You glance down at his lips, and he does the same to yours. 

Drew gives you the look; he wants to kiss you. 

And you let him, closing your eyes and feeling his lips against yours. 

Is it still casual if you kissed me like it’s the last time you ever will? You hate how this thought appears in your mind again, haunting you. 

You pull away, the pressure of it getting overwhelming. “Let’s head back, yeah?”

“We have to?” His eyes stay glued to your lips. “You know, We could…we could just leave.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “no!”

“Say you got plans tomorrow morning,” he shrugs, “I’ll say it for you, if you can’t-”

You cross your arms, looking up at him. “Why would I leave early?”

Drew parts his lips, and he brings his hand up to your elbow. He rubs the area there in soft circles, a playful look in his eyes, “…grab some froyo?”

You drop your arms, looking at him disappointedly. When he saw that, he hurriedly adds, “and I got errands to run. Really.”

You contemplate in your mind about this; ditching this dinner to hang out privately with Drew? Yeah, that sounded like something fun. It must be better than staying awkwardly, having your friends judge Drew. 

Casual. Casual, casual, casual. Some casual froyo with Drew, and maybe ending up with sex in his dorm room. 

Yeah. Seemed like things people whose ‘casual’ would do. 

“Fine. You’re treating me though,” you unlock the door, walking out the bathroom. 

“I always treat you,” you hear him murmur behind you, following closely behind as you two walk back to the table. 

You interrupt the conversation they’re having, grabbing your purse from your seat. They look at your questionably, before their gaze lands sourly on Drew behind you. “i’ve got something, tomorrow morning, so we’re heading off,” you try sounding apologetic, “sorry to leave this early.”

“Oh, um, okay,” Lucy glances between the two of you, “text us when you get home.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you apologize again, before your friends wave goodbye to you. You don’t miss the hateful looks they leave on Drew, as they tell you to take care until the next time you guys meet. 

After that, you and Drew leave the restaurant, letting the doorman do his job of getting a taxi. 

A warmth around your hand catches you by surprise; Drew holds your hand, pulling you closer to him. You look down at the holding of hands; then back up at him. He’s staring down at his phone, scrolling through his insta feed. 

Holding hands. Something very casual to do, apparently. 

“What are you watching?” You ask, leaning on his shoulder. 

He laughs, showing you the screen. It’s a video of a monkey pointing towards the glass, which has different play-doughs lined along it. 

You don’t get the humor in it, but you smile, because it makes Drew smile. 

The two of you stand there, watching different posts on his phone until the taxi arrives. 

Your mind finds it strange how ‘casual’ you two are. 

Because, in the bottom of your heart, you weren’t so sure if this was casual anymore. Along the way, the lines of ‘no attachment’ seemed to have blurred. Blurred to the point of no return. 

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

word count: 4.1k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: goddamn, i would fall for this toxic relationship too T_T

sry for not posting lately, i got very busy lately! i promise you, flashing lights 6 & not a big deal pt4 is coming sooooon. but hope you enjoyed this extra, and also, thx for blowing up the halloween special, was NOT expecting that. thank you sm! your lovely comments inspire me to write these fics!

btw, watched obx s4, and the ending broke me T_T like tffff

[asunsetgrace16]

At this point, if you can't come up with good reasons to keep the show running, don't accept the renewal offer. Wrap it up and move on. I fell in love with this show because of the found family-ness, and now I'm not really looking forward to this season. Hell, I didn't even watch the new episodes as they came out.

All of the people behind the scenes have changed this show from what it truly was, and it makes me so sad. I'm aware that this happens to shows all the time, where the last season or two are the worst. I'm still going to love this show anyways but I will probably write off anything post season 7, which is easy enough to do.

But now nothing actually interesting happens. I personally love the opening disasters because usually they set the tone for the season as a whole, but the ball was dropped in every way this time. All of those side characters gave the show so much substance, now everything is just going in circles. There is nothing left in this show that makes me think, "this is family". I miss the conversations in the engine. I miss Athena and Hen drinking wine and shooting the shit together. I miss all of the domestic scenes that gave this show life.

I have always loves shows where the seasons are 18+ episodes long, because it meant that we got to have episodes where the characters did the most ridiculous, pointless thing together, like the whole episode about the treasure hunt and not have it be jam-packed with constantly changing, rushed plot lines. It created a nice balance.

It's like they have forgotten what the show was built on, and decided to say fuck it, we do whatever the hell we want. They are ignoring foundational elements of every single character too. I am really tempted to march my way down to LA and write out a plan for how they can fix this.

I actually have sooo many issues with 911 lately that haven't even got much to do with any ships.

Like. They wrote out almost all of the side characters. Chris is gone, Linda and Sue are gone, Athena's kids are gone (even though Harry just moved in with her and Bobby again? Seriously, where is Harry?), Ravi is gone, Carla is gone. I know the GA maybe don't care that much, casual viewers might not even have noticed that this many characters have just vanished from the show, but in my opinion this is one of the things that give a show running as long as 911 life. Having a big cast is a good thing. Otherwise things are going to get very monotonous very soon.

Actually, that's my second point. They keep repeating storylines! Every season Hen and Karen have to fight a custody battle over one of their kids.

Every season Eddie ends up realising he has a lot of repressed trauma and issues which keep him from leading a healthy happy and free life.

Every season Bathena realise that they have communication issues and they fight about it, but then something traumatic happens and they forgive each other without ever really talking things out.

Every season we are reminded that Maddie's most prominent character trait is "traumatised", the writers just alternatingly bring up Doug again and sometimes the ppd arc.

Every season we see Buck being somewhat restless, looking and searching for something that will bring him true happiness and cycling through love interests that never stick around and each time when you think "oh, there it is, he's getting somewhere now" the writers go "BEEEP! WRONG!" and we start all over again. [This is not just about recent events aka Tommy, the break-up and Buck potentially going back to his 1.0 ways, this also happened in season 6 when he had his "it doesn't matter what other people see in me, I'm enough" revelation only to suddenly be like "omg, Natalia just sees me".]

And Chimney- he had his moment last season with the wedding episode, Kenneth Choi really ate that episode up, but his most prominent character trait is "Maddie's supportive husband". There's really not that much going on with him otherwise.

Another point I briefly touched upon above is consistency. Like Harry moving back in with Athena and Bobby and then just vanishing. Or Gerrard being more like a slightly unfriendly grandpa than an actual antagonist in season 8 when he was still spouting slurs in season 7.

And the timeline! We talked about this before ("last March", Mara's fostering to adoption timeline, Tommy tranferring to harbour "5 years ago"), but the newest "Tommy was actually Abby's Tommy" twist just adds to that. Tommy was with Abby for over 2 years. They were engaged. This was at a time when he was still at the 118. Tommy dated Abby presumably because he was in denial or maybe because he was hiding. In either case, wouldn't his team at least have heard about his fiancée, Abby the dispatcher? Wouldn't that have rung a bell when Buck eventually brought her around only a year or two later? Tommy did talk about his private life at least a little at work, even under Gerrard. It just doesn't make sense. (Not to mention this seems wildly out of character for Tommy who around the same time also said about himself "being single is easier".)

Then there's the pacing. This was a huge issue in season 7. They jumped from one personal soap opera drama to the next without taking any breathers, had almost no procedural in their drama the whole season, still somehow decided to spend one third of the entire season just on the opening disaster and also squeezed in a "Bobby begins for the third time now" episode. But okay, it was a shortened season, there were strikes, they switched networks, they were under a lot of pressure - I'll cut them some slack. At least they set up a bunch of interesting stuff for the following season.

But we're in season 8 now. The renewal was announced very early, they had a lot of time to plan this time. Also they have almost double the episodes they had last season, there's really no need to rush any of the major plots. I am done cutting them slack.

They wanna do a 3 part opening disaster again? Okay fine, you have the time now. I feel like they could've easily done it in 2 episodes (especially 8x02 felt a little "eh"), but okay. Better than the breakneck speed you were going at befo- Oh, what's that? 8x04 flying in with a steel chair. You resolved 70% percent of the plots you set up last season in one single episode with no build up, no emotional pay off and no lasting consequences? And you also squeezed in multiple unrelated calls at the same time? Damn, okay then. Good-bye potentially interesting storylines. Fuck me for being invested I guess. I thought there would at least maybe be some follow up in 8x05, but no.

Now that Halloween episode wasn't bad, it was actually the best episode of this season imo, but instead of following up on previously established conflicts and developments they just hit us with new Wilson family trauma and conflict that was also immediately fixed again. And now 8x06 has speedrun and dumped another storyline that had potential to go to deeper and interesting places. Not gonna talk too much about that though because this post is about the show as a whole, not ships.

And I am not yet convinced that there will be much more to come on the only thing that's left from last season: Eddie's deep dive into his trauma and repression. It's totally possible at this point that being told "you deserve nice things" by a random stranger actually solved all of his problems, it would be very in tone with 911's new style.

What are they even gonna do with the rest of this season? Revisiting the Hotshots set sounds fun, but ultimately inconsequential. You know what's great about a regular old procedural drama with ~20 episodes per season that comes on weekly? You have time. You can let the viewers sit with their emotions and thoughts for a week and keep them engaged by stretching things out a little.

But why should I bother getting emotionally invested in problems the characters are gonna solve within the same episode anyway? Or rather, even if I wanted to, how am I supposed to care if you don't give me the time to develop any feelings about anything that's happening? "Henren lost in court and are now completely forbidden from seeing Mara at all!" Damn, that must be so har- "JUST KIDDING! Ortiz is exposed and everything is perfect again now." Oh. Okay then, I guess.

Bottom line: The characters are all stuck in their own hamster wheels, they keep cutting side characters that could bring a breeze of fresh air (I'm honestly surprised they even kept Josh until now), they rush through all the storylines a such a ridiculous speed that I don't even have time to feel any sort of way about it, they don't even try to keep a consistency or sensible timeline going and they seem to strongly prioritise random funny bits that'll entertain the very casual viewers right now in this moment (tiger call, Billy Boils, Bee-nado, the 'Stache tm, "wait, it's the same Abby?", Gerrard being a fangirl at heart) instead of playing the long game and catering to people who actually pay a little attention to the show.

[On that last remark: I'm not talking about hardcore fans who analyse every single frame here, I mean casual fans who've watched the show on and off again for a while and who may not be involved in fandom but genuinely care about the show.]

I mean. What am I even still doing here? The show is treading water and I end up disappointed more often than not. I'm still holding out a little hope that they actually will do something interesting with Eddie and his sea-monkeys, but I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't.

[seoulmatez]

— 𝒹𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝓂𝑒? ౨ৎ

suna rintaro x reader. 609 wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ timeskip suna ﾉ suna is out of the country ﾉ honestly just lovesick ramblings :3

“do you miss me?” suna asks, only his eyes and the fluffy dark hair peeking out from his hood visible on the screen of your phone. if you had to guess, he must be lying on his stomach, phone lazily tilting back in his loose hold.

“hm, i don’t know.” a crease forms between his eyebrows at your unfavorable answer. you try to stop yourself from smiling as you continue. “having the bed to myself has been nice. i haven’t had to worry about your ice cold feet waking me up in the middle of the night.”

“they’re not that cold…” you can’t see it but you can hear the pout in his voice.

“liar—they might as well be actual blocks of ice.”

with a defeated sigh, suna’s phone tips back even more, obscuring the entirety of his face, leaving you with nothing but a view of the ceiling. even his voice feels a little farther away. “maybe i’ll just stay here forever then.”

“so dramatic,” you declare with a laugh. a smile lingers on your lips even after you put the joke to rest. “i’m just kidding. of course i miss you.”

he adjusts his phone once more, finally fitting the entirety of his face in the screen. he doesn’t look convinced of your words, eyes squinted in skepticism, lips still tugged down in a small frown. “what exactly do you miss about me?”

“everything,” you tell him.

“that’s not specific enough.”

you almost call him out for being so needy but you suppose listing off a reason or two is the least you can do, considering you were the one to start all of this. “okay, i miss the smell of your cologne in the apartment.”

it’s nothing specially, really—the same fresh scent he’s been wearing for as long as you’ve known him, but the lack of it seems to make you hyper aware of his absence. like a candle you light for comfort, his signature scent has become a homey one to you, not so easily replaced by others.

your answer seems to bring suna some type of consolation, his eyes softening. the frown he wore has all but disappeared but he doesn’t let himself smile quite yet. “anything else?”

you hum thoughtfully for just a moment before something comes to you. “i miss your late night snacking and how you always share with me.”

as much as you scold him about eating so late, you’re just as guilty whenever you find yourself sitting down to enjoy ramen with him far past midnight. though, there’s something strangely peaceful about the two of you passing a warm bowl between each other in the silence of the night—when the rest of the city has gone to sleep. little moments like those make it feel like the world belongs to the two of you alone.

suna nods in acceptance of your answer, although he still isn’t willing to let you off the hook. he meets your gaze through the camera, wishing that he was able to do so in person. “one more.”

“fine…” you don’t have to think for long to come up with one final answer for him. “i actually do miss sharing the bed with you. it feels empty when you’re not here.”

that’s probably your least favorite thing about him being away—how you have no choice but to go to sleep without him beside you, how you’re forced to wake up without him near.

“i knew it.” a grin takes over his face but it isn’t victorious nor cocky—he’s genuinely happy that you’ve admitted it.

because sleeping without you is like not sleeping at all to suna.

thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, please consider reblogging or commenting ❤︎

[bubbleddisasters]

I’m bored so DORM SET UP HEADCANONS!

———-

Heartstabyl:

-With the stairs constantly moving, most second and third years have somewhat memorized the patterns, yet never tell the first years.

It’s like a right of passage to figure it out for yourself.

-Similarly to how each of the other dorms has their special little extra area (Ex: Pomfieores Hidden Lab, Savannaclaws Colosseum etc) Heartstabyl has a literal courtroom that goes often unused, but sometimes if Drama or Arguments gets too much, they will have a court session to debate it, or just joke debates.

-Due to it nearly breaching capacity, the third years do not have their own dorms, but share with one other student, of their choice if mutual or random otherwise. Trey and Cater share a room, which has been jokily dubbed the Leprechaun room. (Clover suit with green hair and goldenish eyes + Ginger with soul sucking bright green eyes)

-There is a confiscation room that only Trey and Riddle are SUPPOSED to have access to. Unfortunately for them, Che’nya does exist and can be bribed into robbery with (good) cheese, (good) cheesecake, or cool trinkets as long as the confiscated item isn’t overly dangerous or too illegal.

-Ace and Deuce’s room is known for being the loudest and has received an unorthodox amount of noise complaints.

-Some students make the hedgehogs outfits and little hats.

____________

Savannaclaw:

——

-As it’s literally made of ROCK, there are many incidents and injuries from running into walls or tripping.

-If food goes missing, their is actually war fare and it is taken personally, but Ruggie has managed to escape suspicion for his entire stay so far.

-Not a goddamn vegetable in sight, Jack has a stash of them and is so far one of three students to do so.

-Dumbest dorm in the club with the highest drop out (usually for pursing a sports scholarship at another school) , expulsion and injury rates.

-Due to fights, sports and literal brain damage from being hit in the head with a discus one too many times, the dorm members are often at the nurses office.

-Sometimes gets ABO jokes from (mostly) Ignihyde students, and has literally no clue what they’re talking about unless directly explained. Jack didn’t say anything to the majority of the school for about a week after Ortho explained it to him.

-From what we see in Leonas Room atleast, all the windows are glassless, so some students will straight up jump out the windows or fall through them on the regular.

-There actually IS a vice housewarden, atleast on paper, since it was required, but nobody knows who it is, not even the vice themselves.

Leona picked a student from his dorms name at random, and Crowley never checked in with the student, and has been under the assumption they’re constantly busy or just neglectful thanks to Leona gaslighting.

The only thing he has told Savannaclaw is that he can confirm it’s not Ruggie, since he didn’t know he existed at the time.

-Rook has crawled through Leonas window ATLEAST ONCE to bother him, and after that he put up drapes so he had a better chance of hearing him coming.

___________

Octavinelle:

_____

-ALL the drama and ALL the blackmail. Literally a dorm of Regina George level dramatics. Pomefiore has nothing on them.

-Gaslighting and Manipulation extraordinares

-As Ursula herself is based on a Drag Queen (Divine), I imagine they have Drag Nights at the lounge, and they’re extremely popular.

-Alot of the non-mer students make jokes about drowning if the barrier ever gets removing, and as most of the mers likely blush blue instead of pink/red, usually many first year humans think their literally choking/ can’t breath for a hot sec.

Also alot of strange incidents and firsts for them, like finding out your roommate is bioluminescent.

-24/7 Elevator music in the lounge, so it drives them absolutely INSANE if played around the dorms too.

-The music was never actually turned off during Azuls OB, as Jade, Floyd or Azul himself probably had the key to the audio room, or was already locked into the bluetooth, so everyone was losing their shit whilst spa music was playing in the background. Sort of like that one Markaplier quote:

“If purple guy is the creator, then what does it all mean- CAN WE CUT THE CASUAL BONGOS?!!”

-I KNOW we see the beds aren’t this way from the Octatrios beds but I hate the basic ass design of Octavinelles actual inner dorm, so y’know what? Clamshell and/or Oyster beds that can open and close like the ones Ariel and her sisters have in the movies.

I’m also changing the color scheme because where the fuck dId they get MAJORITY WHITE AHD LIGHT FUCKING LAVENDER FROM?? URSULAS COLORS ARE BLACK, SILVER/PEARL AND PLUM??

So yea fuck you, Plum, Pearl/Silver, Black, Blue and dark teal color schemes with alot of corals, underwater cove and ocean themed furniture.

-If the dorm were to ever run out of transformation potions, things would get wild real quick.

-They have a pool that is basically just an aquarium you can swim in. Floyd was banned for a month once for trying to drown someone. (Jade was infact not only an accomplice, but the one who gave Floyd the idea in the first place, and immediately threw Floyd under the bus when Azul caught them)

-Azul has a secret private pool hidden behind a door wall thing.

-Jade has a Room of Shrooms that is locked off to the general students.

-Many of the students learn serving tricks to get extra tips.

-Will spitefully bring someone who came laters order first if you’re being a pain. Repeatedly if you really earned it.

-A student once brought heelies, and Floyd immediately jumped on the idea. So yes, some students will heelie over to your table for the sake of “convenience”

______

Scarabia:

—-

-Introverts: Welcome to hell.

-As another dorm with open windows, there are some falling issues.

-Jamil does that mom thing where internally he’s like “Nobody helps me in this fucking house” or will passively aggressively say something like “Well if you want to do this more often, maybe you could start helping out.” but when the dorm students actually offer to help 9 times out of 10 he’s like “absolutely not you’ll mess it up.”

-Schemers canonically but both negatively and positively. Like would say the most sweet and positive plans like their planning a mutiny.

-Like that one “If Antinious was actually a sweet guy” remix of Hold Him Down from Epic :

“Haven’t you noticed who’s missing? Don’t you know the prince is not around?

I heard today is Telemachus birthday, and I heard today he comes back to town so-

I say we gather near the beaches, I say we wait til he arrives~

I’ll slip away while you all distract him so I can go PREPARE THE SURPRISES.

Hold him down…While I’m in the kitchen~

Hold Him down…While I start to bake~

Hold him down while we slowly bring his buddies his family and Favorite Cakeeee~

Cut it down….into tiny pieces

For the prince…Serve it Alamode…

When the prince wonders what his gift is…ONLY HIS MOTHER AND I WILL KNOWWWWW”

Yea thats Scarabia student planning core.

-Steal one thing from this dorm and you can probably feed a family of four for a month.

-You can get a medical pass to be exempt from being in the dorm during the day if you’re sensitive to heat.

-Not all the students actually like the parties, but participate in them for the free food regardless.

-Its concerningly easy to lockpick most of the treasuries, but nobody has done it sheerly because they would feel bad if Kalim still forgave them.

-Its common for first years unused to the heat to straight up pass out before even making it to the dorm since from the map, its a concerningly long walk, so they had to install a mini secondary teleporter sheerly to avoid constant heat stroke.

_______

Pomfieore

——

-Smells like a Sephora and Bath and Body Works with a side of Chanel Perfume

-Many of them are very invested in celebrity drama.

-There is what has been nicknamed “The Garden of Death”, which is a small garden in the back of Pomfieore containing many poisonous plants used to create, and this may come as a surprise, poisons.

-Second highest drop out rate, mostly due to struggles with pursuing a budding career in the entertainment and/or artisic industry and balancing school aswell.

Vil usually does try to dissuade them, but unfortunately it is a good point that he was, even if he did his career work on his own, still had the Schronheit name behind him, creating a high bias with many directors and companies, so he already had higher chances then the average budding actor since the start, and I can imagine alot of the students pointing that out if they didn’t have the same.

-Some students, when they think Vil is not looking, will sit on the throne as a joke.

-The amount of makeup and mirrors in this dorm is crazy.

-Epel has, on more than one occasion, jumped out of windows to escape Vil/Rook, so 80% of the common area windows are locked.

-The walls and carpets in the main areas actually have very thin sheets on them to prevent makeup stains.

-As one of the chonkiest dorms, both in length and width, walking around can be hell if you’re in a rush. So many stairs, so little time.

-The Secret Lab has a Emperor’s New Groove like lever system that only the dorm students know which is which, but sometimes mistakes are made.

_____________

Ignihyde:

——

-When I say you can HEAR the electricity moving through the wires EVERYWHERE.

-Actually blinding to walk into at night due to the amount of screens.

-The kitchen is actually souped up and super clean because it’s nearly never used.

-They have Streaming Parties whenever a new season of a well liked anime or show among the students comes out, and on very rare occasions, Vocaloid Raves when a new album comes out.

These are the ONLY parties Idia attends and actually assists in the setup of, so you know it’s absolutely wild. Its a unanimous agreement that nobody is allowed to tell any other dorms about it (Ramshackle excluded)

-Ortho is the world’s nicest hall monitor at night when he’s bored and Idias actually asleep for once, but it can give students whatever the equivalent of FNAF is flashbacks.

-It’s a dorm joke to say “I’m tired, i’m heading home to Hell” or “I’ve got to catch the Ferry to the Underworld, see ya later”

-The projects the students are cooking up in this dorm makes Elon Musk look like a toy maker.

-These motherfuckers are also nocturnal sometimes. The main room is more active at night then during the day.

-They have a constant cat visitor that they’ve yet to realize or find out is Che’nya in a cat form. Trey once noticed Idia walking to a vending machine with a purple and pink cat on his shoulder and simply aggressively sighed.

-The Cat is lowkey pampered, and it actually started when Che’nya was making a getaway and accidentally ran into Ignihyde in his secondary form.

-Least Magic using dorm. Literally that one meme where it’s a few characters using normal weapons and then it’s a character from the same series with a gun. Ignihyde is that character.

The Genya of the NRC dorms.

________

Diasomnia:

——

-Will practically go into nuclear reactor evacuation if Lilia manages to get into the kitchen.

-They have an entire armory of everything but firearms. However there is a bazooka that Lilia donated for comedical reasons.

-Nearly everyone in the dorm despises Sebek for a multitude of reasons. It’s unfortunate but by god is it true. He is mostly unaware of this and the fact they were near ready to throw a party when he started hanging around Ramshackle more.

However, The only thing keeping Sebek from being literally mass jumped is the fact they don’t want to risk pissing off Lilia or Malleus and thats about it.

-Very Pointy furniture. Everything is VERY POINTY. Poke at your own risk.

-When leaving their room at night, their constantly on guard because of Lilias jumpscaring streak.

-The bridge is the worst thing ever if you have a fear of heights as it’s extremely cracky and thin.

-Some students genuinely think Silver is dead when they find him in random spots asleep.

-Lilia can turn into a bat and you cannot convince me otherwise, therefore alot of the students will eye bats on the ceiling with suspicion trying to see if A: Lilias among them. Or B: If they’ll snitch to Lilia if they’re doing something they shouldn’t.

-Sometimes they’ll polish the gargoyles and grotesques for Malleus.

_____

Ramshackle:

_______

-Yuu/MC has a string of Polaroid photos taken with the Ghost Camera in their room.

-Creakiest couch known to man, and everything within the dorm has some scorch or scratch marks from Grim Zoomies.

-The ghosts become cool Great Uncles, and Knit like crazy during october, since they can’t really touch things afterwards, so MC ends up with a pile of blankets, sweaters, scarves, hats and more.

-They also tell MC the tea with the other school ghosts.

-Skully actually haunts Ramshackle, but the secret area below it, which used to be the main dorm, but nobody dares go into the basement, so nobody really knows about it anymore. If MC were to find it, he would be BEYOND thrilled.

-Everytime a new idiot is initiated into the first year squad, they usually end up with their own “room”, since Ramshackle has way too many empty ones anyway.

-Originally Ace and Deuce just shared one since most of the rooms were broken down and they weren’t taking chances, plus there was only one next to MC and it would feel weird if they were an entire dorm apart.

-This came in useful during Book 5 because alot of their stuff was already kinda just…there anyway.

-Jack just uses his room for Cacti. Thats really it, since the last time he tried to store weights in there, it didn’t end well.

-Epels is excess Apple Storage and a Vil-Free Safe zone, which is often raided by the rest but mostly Grim since Apples.

-Orthos is just a charging port and some movies and games. It does look very strange compared to the rest with all the near SCI-FI theme going on.

-Sebeks is just more of a reading and training room now then anything else, and there are swords in there that Yuu/MC is permitted to use for self defense.

But it used to be, for awhile, jokily named the Room of Shame, because Ace consistently managed to trick him into going in and would lock the door when he made one too many human discriminative comments and wasn’t allowed out until he apologized.

-Ramshackles outer doors and windows actually use a super old enchanted lock with only 5 keys in existence (Yuu’s and the 4 extra you can give in the guest room) , so its unable to lockpick, to Rooks dismay, he’s banished to only looking through the windows

-Unfortunately, Ace did get his grubby little hands on one of the key’s at some point, so he is a constant B&Er of Ramshackle (truly best friend core) and often drags Deuce with him.

-Ramshackle has a themed mess of items, as many are gifts from the other dorms, a Kettle from Ramshackle, Rug from Savannaclaw, “Accidentally over ordered extras” of chairs and a table from Octavinelle, Silks and Culinary equipment from Scarabia, etc etc.

-Sebek did fall through the floor once because he was stomping around like he was kinda used to in Diasomnia, and overestimated the durability of Ramshackles Floors.

-This happened multiple times to Floyd aswell during their occupation of Ramshackle in Book 3.

-A ton of random trinkets from Malleus exist within the dorm, some found, some not.

-Lilia will sometimes follow Malleus and MC on their midnight walks as a bat, and Grim once tried to fight him, telling MC a random bat he saw on the porch was being fishy.

_______

I’m tired so thats about it.

Enjoy

[angelwithdemonictendencies]

my palms ran red turning over jagged rocks, thought i'd find some kind of sign; you pressed your mouth to my wound, weren't your bloody lips sign enough?

qh43 x reader: you really have to stop meeting like this.

(warnings: mostly plot, but also blasphemous filth (yes, we're back on the smut train), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), fingering, hair pulling (i haven't changed), choking (i really haven't changed), descriptions of self-doubt and shame and all my typical stuff. mostly tension building (10k words worth), general debauchery.  please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: oh my god, favorites. i hadn't read this one in so long, so thank you for allowing me an avenue to rediscover it. i'm so happy you're getting to rediscover it now, too. if you want a song to listen to that i think goes with this story really well, give BONES! by girly teeth club a try :) i do genuinely believe that this story was a real turning point for me, and it holds a very special place in my heart because of that (i had the line then who was i praying to? well, who answered? taped to my computer for a long, long time. personal favorite of mine). i hope you enjoy this one again, and also hello to the followers and readers who have no idea what i'm talking about when i bitch and moan about my old account. i see you, and i love you, and i'm so eager to hear what you think. enjoy mechanic qh43 and all of the mythical divine powers that he inspires within me. to the seven people who care, more ol and rus coming momentarily. sunday is now my designated tumblr day, so if you want to chat, sunday is your best bet. i love you and your snakes! be kind to yourself).

like most all-consuming things, it started with something insignificant.

if your tail light had never gone out during the summer before your third year at university, perhaps none of it would have ever happened. part of you wanted to believe that some determined power would have guided the two of you together no matter what, but most of you thought the powers of the world to be nonchalant at best, hostile at worst.

regardless, your right tail light went out a few weeks before school started, and despite your intense unwillingness to spend money on your car, your mom insisted that you get it fixed.

"that family auto shop will do it quickly," she suggested, "the one a few streets down from school."

so here you were, standing uncomfortably in the lobby of the mechanic's, less than soothed by the harsh noises that echoed through the small garage.

you cleared your throat, attempting to get the attention of the teenage receptionist, probably the daughter or cousin of the owner, currently on her phone.

she looked up immediately, smiled wide, full of braces and friendliness. "sorry," she said, only a little guilty to be caught on her phone. "how can i help you?"

you smiled right back at her, immediately put at ease by her presence. "my mom called earlier," you said. you went to continue, but were enthusiastically cut off.

"miss tail light!" she exclaimed, to which you laughed and nodded. "have a seat," she urged, "quinn should be out in a minute, and that's a quick fix."

you nodded and sat down, then crossed your legs as you waited, bouncing one foot against your other calf. you looked at your hands, twisted one ring around your finger.

"you're the tail light?" a low voice called from the lobby entrance, forcing your gaze up from your hands to meet a pair of eyes that somehow swam with both steel and uncertainty.

this newcomer, quinn, supposedly, confirmed by the embroidered patch on his breast pocket, seemed to be immediately off-put by your matching gaze, as he shoved his wide hands in the pockets of his coveralls and blinked several times, a bit too fast.

his confusing mannerisms, combined with his curious combination of handsomeness and beauty, forced a small smile to your face as you stood up.

he really was pretty like you had never quite seen before, tall but not menacingly so, broad across the chest in a way that just looked warm, his coveralls hanging off of him, drawing attention to his frame, his thighs, his arms.

his hair was messy, curling only slightly at the tops of his ears, his cheekbones and jawline so, so sharp, but his nose and mouth softly curved.

you cleared your throat again when you realized you were probably staring.

"i suppose i am," you said, answering his question, approaching him and the door, by extension.

he gave a forced nod before turning to leave, urging a fluid reaction from the muscles in his neck and shoulders, which you pretended not to notice as you walked behind him.

in a choppy, sudden motion, he made to hold the door open for you, arm extended but gaze averted.

"thank you, quinn," you said, trying out his name, surprised to find how natural it felt on your tongue, something like a hymn a past-life you must have sang with unmatched conviction.

he seemed just as surprised as you, practically tripped over his own feet before quickly recovering. you bit your lip to stifle a laugh.

"should only take a second," he said as he crouched down next to your car, his voice a bit rougher than before, pulling a couple of tools and bulbs from his many pockets.

"take your time," you said, sitting down nearby as he got to work, and you meant it, feeling a somewhat shameful urge to just watch him. just look at him.

you fumbled to distract yourself, settling on looking interested in your phone. in reality, it took real effort to keep your eyes down, away from him, when you felt as if he emitted some kind of magnetic force suited only to you.

it felt like an eternity, but it took all of ten minutes, a couple swift motions, and he was done, rising again to his full height and turning to face you.

you allowed yourself to meet his eyes and it felt like a heaving exhale. "all done?" you asked, rising as well, willing brightness into your voice.

he nodded in affirmation, and you could have pouted. a man of few words, it seemed, and how you wished he would give you a few more.

he wiped his hands with a rag, and you refused to let your eyes follow the motion. "so i should pay..." you started.

he nodded towards the lobby. "you can pay with bean," he said, gruff.

you grinned right at him, and anyone else would have seen his gaze soften from stone to molten rock. "bean?" you asked.

the slightest smile took over his mouth. "my cousin," he said, slowly, "at reception."

you hummed, comforted by his sudden ease. "well then," you said, "i'll go check out with your cousin bean."

"i'll walk you," he blurted out, a blush coming to tint the tops of his ears in a positively dreamy sort of way.

so you walked the several steps back to the lobby together, the silence so comfortable you could have sighed, fallen asleep wrapped up in it.

already you felt some sense of loss creeping in, knowing you were probably never going to see him again, knowing this was all you were going to get. just a couple of glances and words and blushes, that's as far as this would go. and it made a lot of sense, but logical reason grew over your hazy, momentary crush like ivy on a brick building.

he held the door open for you again, and as you walked past him this time you looked up into his eyes. stone and steel and ivy.

you thanked him again.

"quinn?" came that delightfully girlish voice from behind the desk, this time intensely confused. "what are you doing?"

he stood in the door frame, his swallow almost cartoonish. "just making sure she checks out okay," he mumbled, not quite looking anyone in the face.

the girl smiled so wide, you could see she had chosen to make her braces purple last time she visited the orthodontist. "you've never done that before, is all," she observed with all the subtlety of a volcanic eruption.

was that pink tint creeping past his ears to his neck, now?

"do it plenty," he muttered, less than convincing and more to himself than anyone else.

the girl shot you a knowing look before turning to her cousin again. "if you say so," she relented. "miss tail light is in good hands with me, now, so you're all set, mr. random acts of kindness."

quinn muttered something under his breath before making to leave, embarrassment still flushing just under his collar.

the knowledge that this was it, this was all this would ever be, that's what made you reach a hand out to lightly grasp his forearm, stopping him where he stood.

you swore some kind of divine warmth rose to meet your hand.

he looked down at where your fingers met his arm before meeting your gaze. molten, yet again. he didn't move, didn't dare to scare off your touch.

"thank you again, quinn," you said, just to him.

a pause charged by meaning sparked between you both.

maybe some minuscule fraction of your heart feared he would push you away and roll his eyes, mumble something about personal space. or maybe that disgust would flood his lovely gaze, and he would say something much meaner.

you should never have touched him, you scolded yourself, stupid, desperate, foolish girl. you began to lift your hand away when his rough voice became a whisper, just for you.

"anything, doll," he said. and then he walked away, leaving his words to rattle around in your head like the whirring noises around the garage.

you paid, laughed playfully with the young receptionist as she insisted she had never seen her cousin so embarrassed, and especially not so bashful.

"i'm sure that's not true," you said, trying in vain to force your sky-rocketing hopes back to earth.

"oh, it is," she said as you made to leave, giving you a big smile and a wave as you bid her goodbye.

as you drove back home, those tendrils of reason crept back again, began to suffocate the dreamy romance that had settled like a glittery mist in your head.

you gave a single exhale, breathing out any unrealistic expectations. you'd probably never see him again, you admitted to yourself, and you tried to convince yourself that you were fine with it.

and so you let the image of steel and stone and ivy become a phantom in the back of your mind, along with the scorching solidity of his forearm underneath your delicate palm.

you'd never see him again, you believed.

in theory, you knew you could have had one of your friends find him on social media, it probably wouldn't have been too hard. a first name, an occupation, they'd tracked down fleeting flings and past crushes with much less information to go off of before.

but you didn't like the idea of interference, much preferred the way he looked in your memory to the fear that he would be someone very different online, that he would be someone different than the person that now existed exclusively in your head.

you were never supposed to see him again, and yet you did, and just as you had almost forgotten the way his shoulders moved when he walked, too.

three weeks later, just before you went back to school, you were eating dinner outside with your family at the country club they belonged to. you had been there maybe twice in the last couple of years, as your mom worked long hours and your dad only really used his membership for golf.

now, though, sitting outside, overlooking the course, in the pleasant air of the late summer, you were glad you were here, enjoying these last few moments with your family before you began your third year.

you were laughing at a joke your mom had made when you heard someone close by call out, "that's my marker, quinn!"

something distant fluttered in your stomach as you registered the name, tried so hard to not care if it was him or not. trying so, so hard to not care, but you cared so much it felt as if you might have willed him into existence yourself, wanted him enough that even the uninterested powers were forced to relent with a bored sigh.

so, in truth, you knew it was him even before you turned and focused on the hole just below the patio.

you knew it was him, and yet you were wholly unprepared for the way your head spun when you registered his familiar figure.

as if compelled by your gaze, or by something else worth worshipping, he turned, too, and there you were, staring at each other. did he recognize you the way you did him? the way you recognize your first lover's cologne? the way you recognize what's waiting behind a door with a scalding doorknob?

but then he took a hand off of his club and gave a timid wave, and you felt your body relax as you waved back. he paused for a moment as if in thought, then motioned towards him, silently asking you to come down.

"who is that?" your mother asked, not critical, only curious.

"my mechanic," you answered, "be right back, promise."

so, even though it was probably (definitely) against the rules, you made your way down to the impeccably cut grass, holding your shoes in one shaky hand.

you waved again as you approached him at the edge of the green, his friends gathered closer to the hole, talking animatedly amongst themselves.

he tilted his head and gave you a small smile, which gave you wings. a smile, and you hadn't even done anything!

"hi, quinn," you said, getting your first good look at him up close, and this time not in coveralls. this time in a polo that brought out his eyes and shorts that had you straining not to stare at his thighs.

"doll," he greeted, that ghost of a smile still on his full lips. "thought that was you."

heavy uncertainty suddenly settled between the both of you. what were you supposed to say? what was he supposed to say? what do you do with time that feels stolen?

"didn't think i'd see you again," you landed on, then physically cringed at yourself. "not that i was thinking about you, or anything," you added, then pursed your lips in a line.

awesome save.

he let out a laugh, though, and it shook his shoulders and lit up his face in a way that made it impossible to regret your rambling.

his laugh made him look human in a way he hadn't really, before, at the garage. it stripped back all the flowery expectations your imagination had buried him in and set him down here, in front of you, a real person.

a real person, who, in this summery light, was much more unabashed and generous with his smiles. his eyes had a softness to them that you hadn't noticed before.

"i wish you had, then," he said, in that deep, low, voice with a confidence that didn't quite suit him, like he was just trying it on.

it almost made you drop your shoes, regardless.

"yeah?" you asked, tilting your head and letting your satisfaction drench your face like sunset light.

he gave a little nod.

"c'mon, huggy!" one of his friends called. what do you do with time that feels stolen?

he looked back at them and his jaw clenched, for a second.

you knew you had to be the one to walk away, or it would haunt you like some ancestral debt.

"maybe i'll see you again, then, quinn," you said, your tone not conveying the desperate hope you felt.

he looked you up and down, amusement alight in his eyes. it seemed his nervous demeanor existed only in his coveralls. "you willing to take your chances on a 'maybe,' doll?"

were you?

you silently begged those distant forces to prove your hopes were not futile, but you didn't really believe that. you were headed to school in just two days, and who knows where he was headed, this mysterious mechanic who liked to golf and had eyes like a deity.

you knew you were on stolen time, and that this, again, was as far as this would ever go.

"we're going!" his friends called.

"i hope i see you again, quinn," you amended, already feeling a sense of loss again. but you had to be the one to walk away, so you began to.

his face was unreadable, some mixture of disappointment and interest and knowing.

"think about me some more this time, yeah? until you see me again?"

your smile glowed. "if 'm honest, quinn, that'll be hard," you said, thinking about how he had been a constant in your mind for the last couple of weeks. you leaned into your flirtatious side since you were both moving apart. it was always easiest when you were on the way out.

he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "try extra hard for me, would you, doll?"

and for a moment, time seemed to ooze like amber. a blink felt like eternity, like you were both suspended in an hourglass.

"promise," you said. it came out like a whisper, but it felt like you screamed it across an open expanse.

and so you parted ways a second time, practically daring the universe to stop you from meeting again.

do whatever you want, universe, you seemed to say, i don't care! i'm fine with the story ending here!

oh, sweetheart, the universe seemed to say, yawning, barely looking at you, then why do you clutch at the book until your fingers bleed?

you could have scowled.

and, just as he wanted, and just as you were afraid of, he was there, in the back of your mind, for several weeks into the school year.

everything started smoothly. you were happy to see your friends again, to be living with them. classes started well. you went out when you wanted to. you began your regular job, tutoring other students in classes you had already taken. it was nice to see the students you had helped out last year, to continue helping them.

teachers referred you to help students who were struggling in their classes all the time, so it wasn't anything significant when one set up a time for you to meet at the library with someone who wasn't quite getting intro to calculus.

it was significant, however, when you opened up the reserved study room door to see quinn sitting at the table, textbooks out in front of him.

so significant, actually, that it genuinely scared you. "jesus," you muttered, exhaling and placing a calming hand over your heart.

he looked up when he heard the door open, and you were frozen in place.

this is what you wanted, right? the universe probably asked, bored. now will you leave me alone?

"i was not expecting you," you admitted, willing your heart back to beating normally.

you couldn't read him, yet again. and yet again, you felt as if you had wanted him hard enough that even the fibers of the universe were annoyed enough to comply.

ugh, they probably said to each other, just give that desperate fool what she wants! i'm tired of hearing her pleas!

but you could have sighed at how beautiful he looked, this time different again - sweatpants and a t-shirt and messy hair. soft looking and sleepy after a day of class and whatever else.

"yeah?" he asked, although he hadn't expected you either. he wasn't shocked the way you were, though. only pleasantness played across his full features. "who were you expecting?"

not you, you wanted to say. things just don't work out like this for me. "i didn't know you went here," you said, simply.

"i didn't know you were a tutor," he replied, leaning back in his chair.

i didn't know your smile gets lopsided when you're tired, you thought to yourself. you could never forget that, now.

"safe to say we know very little about each other, doll," he added, as if he could hear your thoughts.

and he was right - you hadn't asked him anything about himself the last two times you saw him, and he didn't know anything about you. how easy would it have been at the course to say you were going to the local university in a couple of days. why had you not?

why had you relinquished control so easily?

it practically pained you to think about that, just as it was practically painful to look at his face head on, eyes weary with sleep yet bright with amusement, so you decided to solve both of those problems.

"well," you said, sliding into the seat next to him at the table, excruciatingly aware of your closeness, "what do you know about derivatives?"

he gave a huff of a laugh. "probably even less," he said.

you gave him a smile and started to go over your notes with him. the more you spoke, and the deeper you got into the topic, the easier it was to be close to him.

you were still hyperaware of his warmth, his presence, his beauty, his being, but you could do this. getting lost in your purpose here instead of getting lost in him.

after about an hour of you explaining derivatives, you looking at your notes, and him looking at you, you shut your textbook.

"i think that's good for a first session, hm?" you asked, turning to face him and hugging one knee to your chest.

he held your gaze as if studying your face. it felt like being center stage, under a white hot spotlight.

he spread his legs out and reached his arms up, stretching after sitting in the same position for a while. you had to look down at your hands.

"five more minutes?" he asked like a kid begging for an extended bedtime. only now he was asking for more time with you.

you scrunched up your nose, which made him smile, a bit. "can i ask you a question, quinn?" you asked. "since we don't know anything about each other."

"only if i get one, too," he answered.

you thought carefully, flexed your hand on your knee as your gaze met his sleepy one. "it's not that late," you started, "why are you so tired?"

he laughed again, making your chest sing. "busy day," he answered, "had two classes, practice, and a lift."

and as he elaborated you added to the carefully protected vault in your mind of information you knew about him. he played hockey for the team here, he was a defensemen, he was always busy.

"my turn," he said after he was done, low like a secret.

you nodded, forced away the flush his tone alone was able to pull from you.

"did you keep your promise?" he asked.

of everything he could have said, you were least expecting that. of course you knew what promise he was referring to immediately. of course it felt like something abominable to tell him the truth.

suddenly the space between the two of you felt much too little, much too dangerous. so small that you could see each of his eyelashes, he could see the way your eyes dropped to his mouth for a second.

there was something in his eyes that surprised you, though. there was a trace of those nerves you had seen in him that first day - that instability and uncertainty. he wanted you to say yes, you realized. he wanted it so, so much.

"of course i did, quinn," you soothed, leaning forward onto your knee just a bit. it was always easiest on the way out. "did you have any doubts?"

did he let out a breath? his silence spoke for him. still, you had to be the one to walk away. you couldn't afford any more ghosts.

"same time next week?" you asked, gathering your things.

"not gonna leave it to chance this time, doll?" he asked, getting his things together too, but in a lazy sort of way. his hands moved slowly, reluctantly.

you tried not to stare at them.

you gave him a last look before you left.

"do you want to leave it to chance?" you asked, genuinely.

ugh, chance seemed to say, can't you just do it yourself?

his molten gaze dripped over you like honey. "no," he decided, "no, i wouldn't say that's at the top of my wishlist."

you didn't ask what was.

so, each tuesday night, you tutored him in calculus. and each tuesday night, you learned more about him, and he learned more about you.

you learned about how he got into auto mechanics (he never grew out of his childhood truck phase), why he liked golf (really just an excuse to talk with his friends for a couple of hours), what was so special about hockey (it felt like he could see things that others just couldn't). his favorite candy (sour skittles), his favorite color gatorade (red), his favorite t-shirt (a worn in concert shirt from high school).

but you also learned that he got shy when you complimented him, that he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek when he was about to say something that made you blush, that he got more confident as he got to know you.

his nerves only came out when he grew unsure, and you did your best to make him so, so sure.

and he did get to know you. how you got into your major (data analysis was the family business), why you applied yourself so vigorously in your classes (you didn't know any other way), all about your close friends and family. your favorite soda (cherry coke zero), your favorite frat (pike, only because a couple of your friends were dating brothers there, and they had the goofiest themes), your favorite snack (pretzel goldfish).

he was nothing if not observant, too, so he noticed that you had a special smile for when he got a question right, and that you only wore your hair up when you were extra tired, and that, towards the end of the session, when you were caught off guard, you would lean a little closer to him without realizing.

that was his favorite. when you would lean into his space, just a little more, as if you were pulled towards him by a magnetic force.

and each session, you made him a little more confident, and he made you blush a little bit more. until you both felt utterly comfortable with each other, like you had known each other for ages.

well, as comfortable as you could feel with a person who made you feel like every inch of your skin was on fire. as comfortable as you could feel with someone whose voice made your throat go dry, whose hands made you stutter, whose mannerisms made your stomach flutter.

one tuesday night, late into a session where he had told you he had passed his quiz with flying colors, he twisted his pen in his hand.

"you know, doll," he started, "you should come to a game sometime."

you looked up. "one of your games?" you asked, searching his steely eyes for meaning.

his lip quirked. "yes, one of my games."

here, he might as well have said, have a little more of me.

"unless you don't want to," he added to your silence. "which would also be fine. i don't want to force-"

you stopped him with a hand on his forearm, transporting you both back to that first day. did you imagine him relaxing into your touch, this time?

"i'd love to come," you said, looking him square in the face.

"good," he replied, content.

but nothing could have prepared you for what awaited you that friday night, standing with your friends in the student section of the rink you had never been to.

"how have we never been to a hockey game?" one of them asked, looking around at the crowd.

"basketball's just better," another said, although, to be fair, she was on the club basketball team. "what the hell is icing, anyways?"

"we never had a reason to, i guess," your best friend said in a teasing tone. you shot her a look, to which she raised her hands in surrender. "hey, no judgement," she said, and you laughed.

as soon as quinn was on the ice, though, he had your complete and undivided attention. he skated with a mesmerizing fluidity, hit with a concrete, undeniable kind of force. and he was right - he did see things no one else could see, made connections that you, nor anyone on the ice, could predict until they were already completed.

he was all over the ice, all over this space, he was everywhere. and you were transfixed.

walking back to the house with your friends, they noticed. of course they did.

"oh god, i know that look," one said.

"this is gonna be trouble," another added. was this trouble? was trouble when everything someone did felt like some great treasure you had discovered? was trouble this kind of fire, of comfort, of excitement, of rest?

you shook your head. "calm down, guys," you said. "it's not that serious."

"right," someone said. you didn't believe yourself, either.

"what did you think of the game?" he asked the following tuesday after you had covered enough material to be satisfied.

you were so close to him now, it probably would have been easier to just share a chair. so close you could feel the warmth radiating off of him, could all but feel his chest against your back.

"what did i think of the game?" you repeated lazily.

you could hear his smile in his voice. "yes, doll."

you hummed. how honest could you be, here? what could you get away with?

and maybe it was your closeness to him that made you bold. maybe it was the heat you saw in his eyes that had you leaning your head on his shoulder and looking up at him. you felt his breath rumble through him and into you.

the air sparked.

"thought you were incredible, quinn," you said honestly. "like nothing i've ever seen."

his exhale was shaky as he peered down at you. "yeah?" he asked.

"mhm," you hummed, your body buzzing with his contact, the most you had ever had. something unspoken settled between you like dust.

"you would come again, then?" he asked, hopeful but drowsy.

you couldn't help but smile, a bit, gaze up at him through your lashes. "think i'd have a hard time saying no to you, if 'm honest."

something like wonder misted across his heated gaze. "i like knowing you're there," he said. "like knowing you're thinking about me."

dangerous desire swirled around the two of you, melting your gaze and blurring the lines.

things don't work out like this for you, a voice said, bitter and mocking, drawing the lines up again, sturdy and menacing.

you cleared your throat, lifted your head from his shoulder. if you could look at him, you would have seen that uncertainty swimming in his eyes again, along with something like hurt.

but you couldn't look at him. at the drowsy slouch of his shoulders, the rugged line of his jaw, the glossy want that practically dripped down his face like starry tears.

i'm always thinking about you, you wanted to tell him. i'm sorry.

but you gathered your things, stood up. "i should go."

he was silent for a moment, looked you up and down, gave a small sigh. "okay, doll," he conceded. "on one condition."

you scrunched up your nose in confusion.

"you agree to come golfing with me tomorrow," he said in a completely satisfied tone. "then, you can go."

a million excuses flooded onto your tongue.

"i'm busy tomorrow," you tried, your voice coming out tight.

he waved that off lazily. "me too," he said, something like a smirk growing on his pink lips. "but we're both free at four, so let's plan on that. next?"

you sputtered.

"but i don't know how to golf," you tried.

he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. trouble.

"don't worry, doll," he offered. "i'll go real slow for you."

you flushed, almost walked into the doorframe, quickly decided you needed to leave immediately, if you wanted to maintain any level of mystery or dignity.

"fine," you said, already on your way out. it felt like flames were nipping at your heels, biting at your nose. "i'll come."

his smirk deepened, a different look on him. "don't put up much of a fight, do you, doll?"

"i'm leaving," you choked as you walked out, turning to face him one final time. "what if i just didn't want to come?"

he seemed to ponder this for a moment. "i think," he started, "if you really didn't want to come, it wouldn't make you blush like this to say so."

he didn't ask you to think about him, but by the look on his face, you knew he could tell he didn't have to.

so, the following day, you found yourself on the course with quinn.

a terrible, terrible idea, really.

especially considering the want that filled his gaze when he first saw you, catching on your legs before returning up to your eyes.

"showed up for me, did you, doll?" he asked, a hope you recognized tinting his voice a shimmery pink.

you rolled your eyes, but smiled. "you knew i would."

"thank you anyways," he replied, and his genuineness, his honesty, his straightforwardness, it all made you melt. made you want to know what his smile felt like against your neck, what his hands felt like in your hair.

so, as you both made to tee off, you turned to him. "can you help me with my swing, please?"

his gaze softened. liquid steel. "sure, doll," he said, then lined up next to you and explained his way through it.

you bit your lip. "i'm a hands on learner," you said, which was a lie. "i think i need you closer." that part wasn't.

he didn't adopt a cocky smirk, like so many would have. he didn't lean into your act, didn't pounce on the opportunity to show his superiority. he only approached you from behind and reached his arms around you to grip your driver with you, his hands on top of yours, warm and rough.

you could feel each breath he took in your back, felt the solid plane of his chest on your shoulder blades.

"close enough?" he all but whispered into the space between your neck and your shoulder.

something sinful must have possessed you then. "for now," you breathed out.

he went through a swing with you, slow and fluid. you weren't paying attention, not really, but how could you, when he was just so, so close? was this dazed sensation, was that what he felt when you touched him, that first day? or later, in your study room?

but, of course, the swing was soon over, and he reluctantly retreated off to the side.

"your turn, doll," he said.

you took a breath to shake the phantom of his embrace away, then teed off - beautifully straight and hard, arcing through the air like a physics textbook problem.

you looked at him to find a knowing, teasing look on his face. he ran a hand through his hair, displacing the curling ends as he gave a quick laugh.

you smiled. "call me a natural," you offered, shrugging.

"oh yeah?" he said, tilting his head. "how about i call you a liar?"

you leaned forward onto the end of your driver, grin widening. "how about i call you gullible?"

he shook his head, let out a playful scoff. "like you'd ever have to trick me into touching you."

the rest of the round went by quickly, both of your guards down, lost in conversation and high on each other. too soon, it was over.

it was this realization that urged you to act uncharacteristically - in that, you acted according to what you truly felt.

"can i see you tomorrow?" you asked him as he loaded your clubs into the trunk of your car. you didn't cringe as much as you would have a few weeks ago.

he wiped his hands on his shorts, looked at you with something that looked like relief. "think i'd have a hard time saying no to you," he parroted. his ability to remember things about you warmed you from the inside out.

"meet me at the sig nu party tomorrow?" you asked hopefully. "maybe you can meet some of my friends?"

he looked truly touched. "some of the guys are going already since we don't have a morning lift on friday," he said, "so you could meet some of them, too, if you want."

you nodded, flushed with expectation. "see you then," you said, making to get in your car. "and yes, i'll think about you."

his smile as you shut your door was something of dreams.

sigma nu was not one of your favorite frats. their basement was especially dirty looking, their brothers were on the sketchier side, and the never seemed to have enough alcohol to make it through the night.

but one of your friends was talking to one of the brothers, who also played club basketball. so you and the rest of your group were going for moral support. and also because no one else was throwing. it was only a thursday.

you were nervous. you had only just begun to accept that you were really, really into quinn, and you had only just begun to accept that he might, possibly, probably, be just as into you.

it still didn't make much logical sense to you. when had it ever been so simple?

don't talk about logical sense around me, chance would say, that bitch knows what she did.

when you first saw quinn across the crowded room, chance and logical sense and all those divine powers, they all melted away.

it was just him. his hair was messy and his gaze was relaxed and the lights made it look like his face was glowing as he laughed with his friends.

but the crowd got the better of you, for a little while. you danced with your friends, politely escaped several "so, what's your major?" conversations, and actually spent a while talking to your friend's new talking stage.

as you laughed at something, you were internally surprised. this guy seemed perfect for your friend - they shared so many interests, and he was able to laugh at himself easily, which was something that was at the top of her priority list.

after a while of learning enough about him to approve of him graduating from the talking stage, you looked up. of course your gaze was immediately drawn to quinn, closer than you had seen him last.

closer, and yet farther than he had ever been, because he was leaning against the wall, talking to another girl.

you couldn't really see the girl, but it wouldn't have really mattered. it wasn't about her. she was just a girl talking to a guy at a party. a guy who was, in all technical senses, single and available.

it was more so about him, and how close he was to her, how he leaned down to hear her, meaning she could probably smell his all-but-worn-off cologne.

your grip tightened on your red cup as you swallowed.

before, quinn had only ever been yours, because even when you doubted that he could ever return your feelings, he had never given you concrete evidence that he was interested in anyone else. so even though he hadn't been yours, he had been almost yours, probably going to be yours, or something like that.

but here he was, giving you concrete proof that he existed to others, too, that other people could be interested in him and he could be interested back.

and of course that had always been the case. how could you have been so narcissistic? of course people would foster crushes on him, like you did, and of course he was bound to reciprocate eventually, to someone.

you had let yourself believe that you were the center of the world for a moment, of his world, and you hated that.

so, honestly, it was barely even about quinn. this struggle, this was about you.

but if you stripped back everything external, oh, how downright jealous you felt right then.

so jealous that you had to leave, that you couldn't watch anymore. when you got home, you shut the door and exhaled.

what did i tell you? that bitter voice said, things just don't work out that way for you.

you could have growled, now, at how lazy, how self-centered that sounded.

don't look at me, chance would have said, hands raised in surrender, this was all you.

he was just talking to another girl, logical reason would say, that doesn't mean he's not interested in you. you have what, a couple months of history?

and of course reason would be right. of course, you knew, deep down, you didn't have to let this consume you.

but now a tendril of doubt had woven its way into your heart. if you had been so misled by your own ego before, how could you tell if any of it was real? how could you trust yourself to know if this wasn't much more to you than it was to him?

time. you needed some time.

thankfully, that was doable. you went home for break on friday after class, and planned to stay there for the week.

so you stayed home, caught up with your parents, ignored his numerous texts.

it hurt to do so, but you told yourself you needed some distance.

which wasn't that hard, considering he was playing a series of games across the country. you still put on his games though, which your parents noticed.

"didn't even know we got this channel," you dad observed one night as you watched quinn stickhandle around a sloppy winger.

"when did you get into hockey?" you mom asked, never critical. "we could go see a game sometime, if you want."

you started to settle down a bit, really enjoyed the time at home. before you knew it, though, break was almost over.

"sweetheart," you mom called to you on your second to last day, "would you mind taking the car in?"

you were skeptical. "why?"

"they just called," she explained, "said we're due for an urgent oil change."

you thought it was weird that they would call for that, but quinn was supposedly still away, so you figured it wouldn't be that much of an issue.

"sure," you responded. "i'll bring it in now."

you knew it was a trap as soon as you opened your car door at the garage.

the young receptionist approached you quickly with a guilty smile.

"hi, miss bean," you said, trying to gauge what she was about to say.

"look," she rushed, "i didn't want to, and i'm thought the plan was stupid, and i'm sure you're ignoring him for good reason-"

you sighed, knowing what was coming. having walked right into it. "i'm not, really," you stopped her, then felt the need to clarify. "it's not really a good reason."

"what is it, then?" that low voice asked from your side, and everyone else disappeared.

just him, standing there, looking the same as you had last seen him, but so, so different.

the same, because he was just as lovely as you last recalled. was it insensitive to say that he wore his weariness beautifully?

so different, because he just looked so tired. his coveralls did little to hide the slight slouch in his shoulders. a subtle stubble now shadowed his face, making his jaw sharper. and his eyes. that steely stone that had occupied your mind all this time - it was cracking, desperate for something to hang on to.

"just needed some distance," you mustered. you were jarred by his appearance, by being close to him again, just the two of you.

"yeah?" he looked you up and down, that desperate disappointment now running down your figure. there was no malice in his tone. "why, doll? so you can say you were right?" you could have hissed. "so you can go on knowing everything went exactly as you told yourself it would?"

things like this don't work out for you. who had been telling you that, again?

you sucked on your teeth, had no idea what to say. what do you say to someone that sees right through you? the pause settled like sludge. "i thought you were away," you eventually whispered, ignoring his question.

he ran a hand through his hair, let all his grief flood into his eyes. "and i thought it would be a lot harder for you to forget me," he said, "so i guess we're both at a loss."

you took a step forward, then stopped yourself, almost dizzy. "you actually think i would forget you?" you breathed, practically choking on your words.

he scoffed. "what was i supposed to think?" he rubbed his palm against the back of his neck. "i think everything is going well when you ask me to come to this party, then you spend the whole time talking to some other guy-"

your brow furrowed before you understood. "my friend's new boyfriend," you interrupted. to his confusion, you clarified. "i was talking to my friend's boyfriend."

he blinked, registered this information, appeared a bit lighter. "regardless," he sighed, "you were supposed to be talking to me, doll."

"hold on," you said, the memory of jealousy seeping into your bloodstream, "you were talking to someone else, too, quinn." you crossed your arms, images flashing in your mind of him leaning down, his ear much too close to her lips. "and i don't think that was your friend's girlfriend, unless they're trying out an open relationship."

"i just-" he gave a frustrated gesture, looked down at his feet for a moment.

"you what?" you pressed.

he sighed, now flushed. "i just wanted you to look at me."

you both were silent for a beat as you processed his words. you exhaled, took a few steps until you were right in front of him. his eyes flickered down to your mouth, took the long way back up.

you took his face in your hands, his stubble rough under your palms. you knew you didn't imagine the way he softened into you touch.

"surely by now you know you're all i think about," you said, an offering. like some sacrifice at a long-abandoned altar, so terribly desperate, shamefully honest.

so terrible, the way he grabbed at your hip, pulled you forward, against him. so desperate, the way his other hand twisted into your hair.

so shameful, how he captured your lips with his, all brute emotion, sleepy resignation, a million pleas of "look at me" answered with "i never looked away."

so honest, how he just barely whimpered into your mouth when you tightened your grasp on his jaw, kissed him harder. he pulled so slightly on your hair, you slid a hand down to his chest, gathered the collar of his coveralls in your first, trying to get him impossibly closer.

here, you both were practically screaming, here, have some more of me.

someone whistled across the garage. you pulled away from each other with a jump, having gotten a little carried away. quinn flushed on the tips of his ears and shot the culprit a look, which made you let out a light laugh into his chest.

the little rumble made him look down at you, wrap his arms around your waist and clasp them on the small of your back.

you stayed like that for a moment, just looking at each other. stone, molten.

"i have this thing next week," he said eventually, barely anything more than a rasp. "a formal for the team."

you nodded, reached up, twisted a strand of his hair around your finger.

"come with me," he asked, soft. "please."

you didn't have to think about it. "yes."

and so, about a week later, you found yourself at the hockey formal, an event you hadn't known existed a couple of months ago.

the past week had been blissful, but frustrating - you both were so busy, you with schoolwork and tutoring, him with the team. so much so that you could barely see each other outside of your scheduled tutoring session.

needless to say, you were very much looking forward to a weekend away with him. a whole night, just for the two of you.

and the whole night was wonderful. you were introduced to his teammates, saw a new side of him, heard his laugh so many times it made your head spin.

it was all just so easy. even the mess ups, the uncertainty, the silences, those were easy too, because they were with him.

when he stuttered over telling you how beautiful you looked - easy.

when you didn't know how to introduce yourself to his friends, so you just said you were "quinn's..." and then faded out, unsure - that was easy, because you weren't even really lying. your laugh was instinctual, and everyone else's was, too.

when he asked you to dance, reaching his hand out to you, there had never been an easier yes.

you danced with all the beautiful awkwardness of two people who weren't quite sure what they were yet - weren't quite sure how far they could go. there was not a question of how you both felt, but how slow were you taking this?

how slow could you bear?

every touch felt electric, like a gentle flame ignited whereever his hands had been. you felt a shiver erupt when his hand grasped your waist as you both moved together to a simple rhythm.

so up close and personal, you could smell his worn cologne, feel the warmth from his chest.

he gave you a sly smile, something close to a smirk. "okay, doll?"

you bit your lip, peered up at him through your lashes. "you just look so lovely, quinn," you told him, squeezed his hand, gave him a flushed smile. "it's distracting."

he pulled you a little closer, so that your chests were almost touching as you moved across the floor. "yeah?" he asked, his smile lazy, almost shy. "love a suit, do you?"

you tilted your head, met his gaze entirely and absolutely. oh, how much, how deeply you wanted. hadn't your want seemed to fray the fibers of the universe before?

babe, they seemed to remind you, we never cared.

then who was i praying to? you could have asked.

and they would have only shared a look, laughed like two girls at a sleepover.

well, who answered? they would have responded.

what you did do is give a slight shake of your head. "not the suit," you said. "you're distracting."

you watched his eyes become hooded, felt the underlying heat ignite between you. his grip on your waist tightened. "careful, doll," he breathed out, a warning, a plea.

"don't wanna be," you replied. there was a moment of understanding, a pause of anticipation.

"how slow do you want to take this?" almost drowsy with desire, his voice was slow, rough, only for you. "you know i'd go so slow for you, right, doll?"

you nodded. "i know," you assured him, "but i don't want you to."

you thought you heard him mutter a fuck before he was pulling you from the floor, out of the elaborate event room, upstairs to your room at the hotel. everything was a blur as his hand clasped around yours. a desperate escape, fleeing from everything, everyone except him.

and then the door was shutting and he was pushing you up against it, a hand on your hip and the other on your jaw as his lips met yours in a heated kiss that was every bit as desperate, as longing, and terrible and horrible and shameful as the first one.

you were both too far gone to hold back any longer.

you tangled your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, felt the curls between your fingers.

he tasted like mint and salt and something earthy.

kissing him felt like barbed wire made of gold, flowery rust, somehow the most violent act you had ever committed, yet also the most gentle.

like removing your heart with a cookie cutter, offering it to him on a painted porcelain plate.

you moaned into his mouth, he hissed just a bit as you pulled at his hair.

he pushed his hips up against yours, hiked your leg up around his thigh, making you gasp at the hardness you found across his front.

"more," you murmured against his lips, felt his sly smirk grow against yours.

he moved his hand from your hip to slide up your dress, glide his fingertips along your inner thigh, just barely skirt across your folds. "like this, doll? so wet for me already," he asked, his voice gravelly. "this must be enough then, yeah?"

you shook your head, moved your hips to try to get some friction.

"no?" he said, obviously teasing, "greedy girl, hm? wants even more?" he brought his other hand to your mouth, pressed his thumb against your bottom lip, smirked when you closed your lips around him without a second thought. "what do you say?"

"please," you whined around his hand, in a voice you barely recognized. "please, quinn."

he answered you by dragging his fingers through your folds once before pushing two into you, slow and deep, making you arch your back up off of the door.

"fuck, so tight," he rasped.

you whimpered against his thumb, closed your eyes as you felt his hand move from your mouth to your throat.

"open up, doll," he demanded. "look at me."

you obliged with effort, wrapped an arm around his neck for support, another one bracing the door as he increased his pace, pushing his fingers in and out of you, grazing your clit each time.

your nails dug into his neck as you lost yourself in the sensation, barely registering the way he groaned at the delicious shot of pain.

"this enough, doll?" he cooed, annoyingly smug at how audibly wet you were.

you vigorously shook your head, so desperate to get him to keep going. "no," you pleaded, "fuck, please, quinn, don't stop."

he tightened his hand around your throat just a little, only barely squeezing as he flattened his other palm against your clit, making you moan loudly. "must be ready for me then, yeah?"

you fisted his dress shirt in your hand, pushed yourself off of the door and pulled him onto the bed. "please, need more of you," you begged, nothing more than a prayer, "fuck, want you so bad."

something lovely flooded his gaze as he moved his clothes aside, pulled himself out as you further hiked up your dress.

he spat into his hand, pumped himself up and down in a way that made your mouth water.

you were practically pouting. "please, fuck me, quinn," you said, pathetic and just so fine with it, "'s all i've been thinking about."

and you knew you had said something magical when he groaned and tugged you towards him by the undersides of your thighs, his grip hot and rough, a working man's grip.

"shit," he hissed as he ran his cock up and down your folds once, twice, collecting your wetness there, "'d never say no to you."

you whined when he first pushed into you, so, so deep that you swore you could feel him in the palms of your hands, feel him rattling around in your teeth, behind your eyes.

he moaned like a sinner, clutched at the flesh of your hips so tightly you knew his fingerprints would be left behind later.

as he began to thrust in and out of you, his rhythm hard and even, both of you could barely form words, so lost in the feeling of each other, finally as physically close as you could be.

"fuck," he bit out eventually, his rhythm picking up speed, "so tight, doll. so wet for me, hm?"

you nodded, clenched around him, reached one of your hands forward to rub at your clit, increasing the pressure quickly building inside of you.

he choked out a grunt at the sight of you touching yourself, only making you squeeze him harder. "feels so good, quinn," you whined, "so deep inside me."

he moved one hand up to your calf, hoisted one of your legs up to change his angle, thrusted down into you in a way that hit a dizzying spot inside of you. he kept going, bringing you both closer every minute.

"shit, feel so perfect," he bit out at some point. "made for me, hm?" he asked as you rubbed your clit faster. "squeezing me so perfect, yeah?"

you hummed something like affirmation, your breathing becoming ragged as he hit that spot over and over, his chest rising and falling, his thrusts becoming broken and messy.

"fuck, quinn," you moaned, "fuck, 'm so close."

he groaned. "gonna cum for me, doll?" he asked, letting your calf rest on his shoulder as his hand travelled down to apply only the slightest pressure to your lower stomach.

the sensation, that unique pressure making you feel him impossibly deeper, sent you soaring right to the edge.

"feel you squeezing me," he breathed out, his own voice tight and rough, his chest and stomach flexing as he fought off his own orgasm. "cum for me, doll, yeah? wanna feel you cum on my cock." he squinted with effort. "be good for me, hm?"

and his words sent you spiraling, a wave of pleasure finally crashing, clenching and spasming around him in a way that triggered his own high.

he moaned as he came, his breathing labored as you both collapsed back onto the hotel bed.

effort and satisfaction glowed on your faces, realized desire settling along his cheekbones and on the cupid's bow of your mouth.

there were several moments of easy silence in the warm air, his hand throw lazily around your middle, one of yours resting on his chest.

"can i ask you for something?" you said eventually, looking up at him with tired eyes full of possibility.

"anything, doll," he said, and you remembered back to that first day, in the garage. how easy it was, now, to remember it fondly.

"can i have a kiss, please?" you asked, almost shy, more so gentle.

a smile already played across his mouth. "especially that," he said, eager to comply with your request.

he leaned down to press a fluttering, beautiful kiss to your lips.

well i definitely didn't see this coming, chance stage-whispered to logical reason behind her hand.

i don't really deal with this lovey-dovey kind of stuff, logical reason said, not my thing.

all the divine powers and the fibers of the universe and such, they were silent. perhaps they always had been. perhaps this was much too far out of their jurisdiction.

perhaps it was just none of their business.

fin.

[ohbueckers]

HEART OF A WOMAN. you should call into work if that ain’t too much to ask, i could pour you up a drink and we could burn somethin’.

03, CHAPTER THREE. COME THROUGH.

ju speaks. late chapter again lol and this election fucked me uuup but thank God for writing as a distraction. you can expect another part between now and monday mayyybe… i have some free time. pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. same old + sexual innuendos (we’re very familiar with my edging game).

present day, may 2025.

paige: yo 6:23pm

wyd?

nailea text me back bro 6:29pm

nailea: hmmm

busy

paige: busy my ass

nailea disliked a message

nailea: i’ve been at work all day. some of us don’t get to just play basketball, madison 😓

paige: ohhh is that right?

i’ll have you know i work hard af ma

nailea: hard enough for a reward?

paige loved a message

paige: bring that ass over here nai

nailea: i’ve got emails to finish

paige: they’ll be there tomorrow

i’m here right now. waitin on you actually

nailea: maybe i have been thinking ab it 6:32pm

paige: mhm?

well you ain’t gotta think no more let’s just do

nailea laughed at a message

nailea: you’re really ridiculous

paige: come over and tell me that to my face

nailea: depends on what you got there

a girl needs incentives

read 6:35pm

paige: i got plenty

few drinks, maybe roll up too. thought that might get you

nailea: it’s a start

send the address, i’ll come through when i’m done

paige loved a message

i sink back into the couch, letting my head rest against the arm, my feet comfortably draped across paige’s lap. the last few days, i tried to keep myself busy, focus on work, ignore the way my phone would vibrate and my thoughts would jump straight to her. the same old game. she’d sent a few texts, nothing too serious, just little things to test the waters i guess, and when she called yesterday, talking about how much she missed me, i could already tell she was pulling me back in, trying to see if that thread between us would hold.

paige kept her word, though—i can give her that. i said i’d answer, and she made sure i’d have a reason to. she knew exactly what to say, and it’s a shame that she always does, really. it’s messed up, but it works. i can’t say i haven’t missed this, either. the way she can look at me and make me forget everything i swore i’d remember, every reason i should’ve walked away.

and now, here we are, the sun setting behind her window and casting everything, even her, in some warm, orange glow that only makes her look all the more attractive. it’s like the universe is playing along, trying to romanticize something i know i should be more careful with. there’s an old celtics game playing on the tv, but neither of us is really paying attention to it. i watch her more than the screen, notice the way her fingers brush absentmindedly over my leg, the way she insists that she should be the one to hold the joint to my lips.

paige leans back, and her hand has inched from my ankle to a casual spot on my bare thigh. we’re both too deep in drinks and hits to make sense of it, but i’m not sure i would’ve said anything even if i was sober. she’s wearing one of her uconn tees, which i guess you could call old now, the shirt hugging her arms a little tight. her hair’s falling over her shoulders, looking a little shriveled but still perfect, and every time she glances at me, she wears this smug little smirk.

“…feels like everything i knew it’d be. more work and pressure than it seems, but you know me,” paige says, her grin turning a little self-satisfied, like she’s relishing every second of her own success. we’ve been catching up—if that’s what you’d call it—for awhile now. i should probably leave soon, sober up and drive home. i’m not that far. but i don’t want to.

she drags her tongue slowly over her bottom lip, eyes hazily drifting back over to me. “what about you, huh?” she asks. “you got that insane move up. what’s that been like?”

i roll my eyes, tilting my head against the couch arm to look at her. “it’s not that insane.”

paige grins, shrugging and taking a sip of her lazy attempt at a cocktail. i’d offered to make them myself, honestly not trusting the blonde to not fuck it up, but she’d insisted, hostess duties or something.

“still sounds like a pretty big deal. you’re all professional and shit now,” she rambles, and i can’t help but chuckle at her choice of words.

i shake my head, hiking one of my legs up. “it’s not like i’m paige bueckers or anything,��� i tease, a stupid, huge smile on my face. how is she able to bring out the worst and the best in me? “no one’s asking me to sign their shoes after a meeting.”

she laughs, eyes half-lidded and glassy, gaze intimidatingly lingering on me just a little too long. “bet you got your own version of that, though. people hangin’ on your every word, just tryna get a second of your time. don’t lie.”

i shrug, eyes shooting away from her. i don’t get how she does it. “i mean, it’s been good,” i admit. “long hours, but it’s nice to finally get involved the way i always wanted to, y’know?”

her hand shifts a little on my thigh, just enough to remind me it’s there, and i glance down. “coulda called that years ago,” she murmurs, barely louder than a whisper. then, it’s silent for a moment. just long enough for me to think of something else to ask her before she beats me to it. “you happy?”

i swallow, suddenly feeling a little hot in the face. “i am,” i reply after a pause, furrowing my eyebrows with a nod, almost like i’m trying to convince myself of it. “the dream, right?” i let out a breathy laugh, and paige smiles.

it’s silly to think that the both of us could recall that conversation like it was yesterday. but this wasn’t the dream. not the one we had when we were kids. just our own fucked up, adult version of it. and somehow, someway, we’re still here. somehow, someway, we still can’t let it go.

“and the people? they treat you right?” she sounds like she really cares, but is still trying not to press too hard.

“everyone’s good. most of them, anyway.” she can probably see through every word i say. pick up on the way i describe everything as good. i hesitate, looking back up at her. “never thought i’d be this close with a pro team after graduating, that’s for sure.”

“bro, ‘kea really don’t play ‘bout you,” paige laughs, but she’s serious. rickea’s one of the first people i got close with during my internship, contrary to belief. i was barely around the team then, too. “and maya’s been talking all kinds of good about you since cam’s party.”

i can feel my face flush, and i shift to sit up next to her, suddenly acutely aware of how close i am to paige, how tangled up i’ve let myself become. the mention of her name has clearly been a sore subject. i’m not sure why i feel so guilty, paige was mine first, but my mind flashes to her anyway, and then to paige, who’s probably hearing everything maya’s been saying about me, while i’m here, in the middle of all of it.

i don’t wanna ask what she’s been saying, and i surely don’t wanna press further into how deep paige and maya might be. ignorance is bliss, right? but shouldn’t it be my business? is paige still my business?

instead, i force a shrug. “i mean, it’s not like we’re on the same level,” i say, clearly selling myself a little short. maya’s been here longer, knows what she’s doing better than i do. credit never hurt.

paige doesn’t say anything. she inches just a little bit closer, and the sound of a sold out stadium of cheers from tatum’s three pointer is suddenly going in one ear and out the other. a small smirk tugs at her lips, and she tilts her head, eyes not sure what to focus on as she rubs up and down on my thigh, hand inching a little higher everytime. “i agree.”

i squint at her. “you do?” but it’s less of a question. my eyes flick to her lips, and i know she catches it because her smile widens, just a little.

“mhm,” she murmurs, her fingers twisting in, gripping my thigh until i’m squeezing my legs together. there’s a moment of silence, like she’s giving me a moment to breathe, to prepare, and she’s not done. “nobody’s fuckin’ with you, baby. believe that.”

i can feel my defenses slipping—not that they were ever really there anyway—as she presses closer, and i feel a warmth spreading through me, one that has nothing to do with the la heat. “what are we even doing, p?” i ask, and i don’t know where it came from. no part of me wanted to start an argument, or worse, hear the truth. i can’t look away.

she shifts, her expression softening as she glances down, then up again. she doesn’t know the answer either. “i dunno. what we always do.” she leans back a little, resting her head on the couch right near my chest, so close that her breath brushes against me with each exhale.

i tilt my head down, just enough to meet her blue hues, and the words come out before i even realize i’m saying them. “i’m supposed to be over this. over you.”

the second they’re out, i wish i could take them back. i didn’t wanna ruin the moment. the way her face changes, her jaw tightening and a flicker of something unreadable flashing in her eyes, tells me i’ve hit a nerve. a silence falls between us, an uncomfortable one if i’m honest, stretching longer than i mentally prepared myself for.

paige screws her eyes shut, letting out a low, frustrated breath as she sits up, running a hand over her face like she’s trying to gather herself. the loss of her touch makes me feel cold. “fuck, nai.”

i push myself up too, eyebrows are furrowed as i try to make sense of it. “what? i just asked a question.”

“you always gotta make shit so fuckin’ difficult,” she mutters, shaking her head like this whole thing is somehow my fault. like i’m the one complicating it.

i frown, glancing down, and she continues. “you’re just—God, nai, it’s like you can’t just let things be. you always gotta question it, question me.” she bites down on her lip. she’s actually upset, and the horrible part about it is that it’s so like her—so unmistakably paige—that somehow, i can’t even bring myself to be mad.

i want to laugh. “why does that piss you off?” i don’t want to say it, but the words slip out anyway. “you think you’ve given me any reason not to? especially now that you’re seeing maya?”

her head crooks to look at me, and her eyes narrow with it. “what the fuck does maya have to do with this?”

i can feel the heat in my face, the way everything inside me tightens, like i’ve been holding my breath for way too long. “what do you mean, what’s she got to do with it? you’re seeing her, paige. i’m not blind.”

her jaw clenches tighter than before, and she stands up, pacing a few steps before turning back to me. “we’re not—” she pauses, clearly trying to find her words, but i’m not giving her the time.

“that’s all i need to know,” i finish, forcing a tight-lipped grin. “you don’t have to lie. i’m quite sick of those from you, actually.” i chuckle, but it’s a hollow sound, one that doesn’t even make it past my throat. i reach for my shoes that i tossed to the side when i got here, pulling them onto my feet.

paige watches, hands on her hips, and i’m fine with her quiet. “i don’t want you to leave upset with me over somethin’ we coulda talked about,” she softens, but it doesn’t change the fact that i’m already over it.

“i’m not upset with you,” i bluff, and i tie the laces of my sneakers a little tighter than necessary.

she glances down, tongue swarming her mouth, and i don’t even have to look at her to know that she’s thinking of some way to stop me. “nai—“ she starts.

“i’m not upset,” i repeat, and i hope it was more firm this time. i force myself to look her in the eyes, not a single thought behind them. neither of us is willing to be the first to back down, but i’m too exhausted to care anymore. “i just need to go,” i finish, standing up and rounding the couch.

paige’s face drops, hesitation etched across her entire face. “you can’t leave. you had too much. just… stay, aight? we’ll figure it ou—”

i grab my jacket, ignoring her weak attempts. somehow, this all feels like that night again, and i feel that familiar nausea creep up. “i’ll call a fucking uber,” i snap, throwing the door open. and before she can stop me, i’m gone, my pulse racing as i step out into the hall, leaving behind the sound of her voice.

i don’t think i’m very good at pretending i’m not upset.