#there was a lot i wanted to say and i never quite got around to it diuasijdnajsda

[heart-eyed-love]

Charms

Summary | Eddie has a small gift for you before you both leave for Christmas break

Contains | Fem!Reader, Friends-to-Lovers, Cursing

Word Count | 1.2k

An | Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates, this is coming out late :( but I hope everyone had a good day!

It was the last day before Christmas break, and you were more than relieved to say the least. You need a 2 week break away from this shit hole. And while you had your friends, you still needed a break from this place.

You were gonna go visit some of your family members during the break, not the plans you had originally hoped for, but in your opinion just about anything was better than this school.

You had slightly brought up to your friends in passing that you were gonna be out of town during break, but it wasn’t something you had necessarily thought they’d care to remember. And it wasn’t something you’d be offended about them forgetting either way, you knew something you tend to fade to the background of settings.

So that afternoon, as you shoved all the books and papers you’d no longer need in your backpack over this break back into your locker, you let yourself sigh in relief as you now held a significantly lighter backpack.

���Hey…” The voice sneaks up behind you, causing you to jump. And when you turn to look at the source and smirking Eddie comes into view.

“Hi?” You answer back, raised brows at the boy in front of you, “What’s up?” You ask, shutting your locker as you do, and he can’t help but take notice of the jangling of your charm bracelet he knows all too well.

“Oh you know, nothing much. Excited to get out of here?”

“Yeah, I mean, who isn’t? It’s school… so I’m pretty sure everyone is eager to get out of here… aren’t you?” You ask back, looking up at the boy in front of you. Even after hanging out with him and the hellfire, you still feel a little awkward around him.

“Oh yeah totally, I’m gonna spend my whole break probably getting high, and doing jack shit, you know, basically the whole point of the break for me, right?” He’s all smirky and it’s so distracting when he gets like this… well when he gets like this with you. You never completely got used to the times where you’re the center of his attention.

“Yeah, right… Sounds nice…” You nod softly as you throw your backpack over your shoulder.

“It will be… if you weren’t going out of town I’d invite you over…” He’s hasn’t necessarily gone shy but he’s not as confident as he normally is and it’s throwing you off a bit. And If what he says is true, and he’d really like to invite you over, you’d take that over this trip to see a few family members who don’t necessarily give too much of a shit about you. But no. Now you have to miss out on the one thing you’ve always wanted.

“That sounds a lot better than having to go hang out with a bunch of family members who don’t even know who I am…” You chuckle slightly to yourself, and he smiles sweetly back at you and you can’t help yourself from feeling distracted from the look on his face.

“Yeah? Well that’s kinda why I came over here…” He pulls his back from his shoulder and unzips it, digging through it for a second, before pulling out a poorly wrapped box. A small bow sitting on top of it. Your brows raise in question, “Uhm… I got you something… you know, for Christmas.” He smiles.

“Oh shit, really? I- I didn’t get you anything….” You feel bad immediately, you had no idea he was gonna get you a gift, if you had you wouldn’t allow yourself to go all out for him like you always truly wanted.

“Oh no! No, don’t worry about it… it’s more like just so you don’t forget about us while you’re gone…”

“Forget about you?”

“Yeah, you know… Hellfire… me.” He smirks. To be quite frank he didn’t give a shit about Hellfire in this stance, forget about them all you want just don’t go forgetting about him.

“I’m only gonna be gone for like 2 weeks, if that.” You say with a teasing laugh, that has the soft smile reappearing on his face, and you don’t notice it, but his face heats up.

“Yeah, well here anyways…” He hands the box with a shrug.

You grab the box from him with a smile, “Do you want me to open it now?”

“Yeah, go for it…”

You pull the nicely tied bow from the top, leaving only the terribly wrapped box, and you couldn’t help but feel a swarm of butterflies. It was cute. He was cute. “Sorry, apparently I’m shit at wrapping.” He chuckled lightly.

“It’s alright.” You smile up at him, before looking back down to ripping the paper off the gift and a small box is now in front of you, Eddie grabs the wrapping paper from your hands for you, shoving it into his backpack.

You open the box and a small charm is revealed to you, it’s a small black bat. It’s beautiful, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a charm. It reminds you more of Eddie than the rest of the boys and you can’t help but like it more for that fact.

Eddie inspects your face as you look at the charm. He saw it at the mall while he was trying to find something for Wayne and for some reason he just needed to get it for. But damn, for some reason this small piece of metal was more expensive than he thought it needed to be.

But whatever it was for you anyways.

“You like it?” He asks, slightly nervous at the lack of words coming from you.

You look up from the charm in the box and see that smidge of fear in his face, “What? Oh my gosh! Yes, of course!” And the smile you love so much graces his face, “I love it, thank you, Eddie.”

“I’m glad you like it… thought it would go nice with all the other ones you have…” He lets his fiddle with the charm bracelet on your wrist, and you blush a tad bit at the feeling of his fingers against it.

“I really do…” You watch as the hallways drain of students and you know your time with him is limited, your bus is gonna leave soon, “My bus is about to leave… but thank you again, Eddie. It means a lot…”

“Yeah, of course… Uh, I mean I could drive you home if you want? Are you leaving today?”

“Oh, uh… No, we’re leaving tomorrow. Like ass crack of dawn.” You roll your eyes.

“Damn, first day of break and you’re still having to walk up early?” He laughs, and you can’t help but smile at the sounds.

“Right? That’s what I said, she just told me to get over it so it looks like I’m waking up early… but uh, yeah… a ride would be really nice…” I nod with a shy smile.

“Sweet, follow me…” He leads you out to his van, one you’ve seen time and time before but only ever rarely been in it. Definitely never just the two of you. He opened the van door for you and everything.

You were definitely gonna come back from break with a gift of your own for him.

[hischierslovergirl]

G'mornin'! I just saw your post and I want to say it's always warming seeing someone getting back into writing!! And so please can I request:

Luke Hughes with "the first initial kiss being a peck, then they immediately go back in for a stronger, more passionate one" + "I'll give you a ride, don't worry."

Have a lovely day and take your time, no rush <33

Thank you so much for requesting and for your encouragement xx. This turned a bit longer than I anticipated, but I hope you enjoy!

Just when you thought your day couldn’t get any worse, your car decided to show you just how bad it could get. You’d already had a long and crappy shift of dealing with handsy old men, your manager and coworkers were seemingly fighting to see who could piss you off the most, you had spilled a red colored drink on your white top, and now you had to deal with whatever problem your car has now. Needless to say, you were over it.

Members of the club you worked at passed you by without even a simple glance in your direction as you stood there with frustrated tears welling in your eyes, phone to your ear as you tried to get a hold of anyone. Your hopes of someone coming to your rescue dwindled with each unanswered call until you had officially given up. You sank to the ground, knees pulled to your chest and back pressed against your car as you let out a sigh of defeat.

“Hey,” You heard a familiar voice call out.

You slowly lifted your head up from its spot between your knees and your gaze landed on Luke, one of the guys you grew friendly with during his many trips to the golf course. Though, truthfully, you had always been a bit more than friendly with him on occasion, always throwing subtle flirty remarks his way that he would bashfully return. He was a little on the shyer side than most of the guys you encountered at work, but you liked it. You liked him.

“Hi, Luke,” You weakly smiled at him, hoping the sun had set enough that he couldn’t make out the small streaks of mascara underneath your eyes.

“Is everything okay,” He carefully asks, taking a few steps closer to you with his hands shoved into his pockets, “I thought your shift was over a few hours ago?”

You decide to ignore the fact that he remembered you always got off at three on Tuesdays, but it still made your chest warm.

“It was,” You confirm, your eyes flickering to his usual group of rambunctious friends a few feet away from him before finding Luke again, “My car isn’t starting, and I can’t seem to find anyone to come pick me up, so I’m stuck here until my parents get back from the city in a few hours.”

“A few hours,” Luke lets out in disbelief before he shakes his head, his curls bouncing around in disarray, “Absolutely not. I can take you home. You’re not waiting out here for hours.”

“Luke, no,” You stressed, finally rising to your feet so you’re closer to eye level with him, though he still has quite a few inches on you, “I can handle waiting a bit longer. It’s okay. Plus, it’s way out of your way.”

A fact you knew courtesy of the time Jack had invited you to a party they had sometime last summer. A party that you left early because of the multitude of girls hoarding the one person you had gone there for.

“Doesn’t matter,” He stubbornly stands his ground, hesitantly taking a step towards you, “I’ll give you a ride, okay? Don’t worry. Making sure you get home safe will never be out of my way.”

Luke didn’t take no for an answer, and that was exactly how you ended up in seat of his expensive car with his music softly playing in the background. You had never been alone with Luke before, let alone in such a confined space, and it made you nervous. Any of the usual teasing and flirtatious remarks you would throw his way were left in the parking lot of the country club, only awkward casual conversation falling from your mouth now.

Luke kept stumbling over his words, occasionally veering off into a rant of sorts whenever certain things were brought up, and it made a smile twitch at your lips. After a few minutes he would realize that he had been talking far too long, though you didn’t mind, and he would mumble a bashful apology before directing the conversation into something different. By the time you were nearing your house, a bout of silence had fallen over the two of you and you watched everything flashed by.

“This is the one,” You pointed to the house on the right side of the street, “You can just drop me off at the end. I can walk the rest of the way.”

Luke brought his car to a stop right in front of your house, quickly throwing it into gear and grabbing the key before he was darting out of his seat. You watched him with furrowed brows and curious eyes as he jogged to the passenger door before carefully tugging it open. He was sporting a shy, timid smile, his hand grasping at the frame of the car as he patiently waited for you.

“Thank you,” You sheepishly mumble, hugging your bag to your side as you slip out of the seat.

“Of course,” He clears his throat, awkwardly shifting on his feet, “I’ll walk you to your door.”

Luke walked close enough to you that his hand kept brushing your arm, making warmth spread up your neck and to your cheeks as you kept your gaze on the ground in front of you. Once you were standing in front of the door, you finally turned to face Luke and you couldn’t help but admire the way he looked under the warm porch light. His features were soft and delicate, his curls framed his face in a way that made your mind run rampant with the idea of running your hands through them.

“Thank you, again,” You swallow thickly, “For taking me home. I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” He nods, and you swear his eyes drift down to your lips, “It’s the least I can do after all the gatorade’s you supply for me and the boys.”

His joke brings a quiet giggle out of you as you playfully shake your head, “I definitely make sure to keep my cart stocked when I know you guys are coming. Though I can never seem to have enough for Jack.”

“Yeah, he throws them back like they’re going to disappear,” He chuckles, his lips tugging upwards into a smile.

“I believe that,” You airily chuckle, your gaze quickly darting to his mouth before looking away, “Well, I’m sure you probably have better things to do tonight, but I really do appreciate you.”

You hastily stand on your toes to place a small and delicate kiss on his cheek, your eyes fluttering closed for a fleeting moment until you were flat on your feet again. When you meet Luke’s eyes again, there was a certain glint to his eyes that made you nervous, but he gave you no time to dwell on it before he was surging forward and slamming his lips on your own. Your reaction was instantaneous, your bag falling from your shoulder as you wrap your arms around his neck and you kiss him back with everything you had in you.

Luke’s hands found purchase on your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin as he brings you further into his chest. His mouth is moving against yours, unyielding and fueled by months of suppressed feelings as you lose yourself in the moment. It felt like the two of you were connected for hours when you regrettably pull away from him to catch your breath, his hands sliding to the small of your back to keep you close to him.

“I’m sorry,” He eventually breathes out, his chest heaving against you, “I just— Um, I’ve wanted to do that for a long time and I—”

“Luke,” You tenderly cut him off, peering up at him through your eyelashes, “I’ve been thinking about that for a long time, honestly. Actually, I was wondering if we could do it again sometime?”

[cuubism]

I REALLLLLLLLLLLLLYYYY LOVE YOUR BELOVED PROFESSOR DREAM FIC!!!!!!!! PEOPLE TEND TO FORGET THAT!!! EVEN IN CANON!!!! HES FULL OF LOVE!!!! AND PASSION!!! AND HE CARES SO MUCH IT LITERALLY DOOMS HIM!!!!! AND IF ONLY HES BEING GIVEN A MUCH MORE KINDER CIRCUMSTANCES!! HE WOULD BEHAVES EXACTLY LIKE YOUR FIC!!! I FEEL SO CRAZT!!!! PLEASE NEVER DIE I LOVE YPUR WORKS SO MUCH!!!

I've grown quite fond of him myself 🥺 @five-and-dimes and I discussed him at length and created more lore for him. It was determined that Dream's earnest whimsy probably got him bullied a lot when he was younger. Not since he met Hob though.... it's probably a coincidence 🤷‍♀️ surely everyone just realized the error of their ways and decided to grow up and be kinder! Dream knew it would happen some day :)

-

Dream is still reeling as he reaches the cafe where he's meant to get afternoon coffee with Hob. He feels a bit shaky, but happy. Joyful. In disbelief.

When Cori had cornered him after class, Dream had been sure he was going to shove him up against a wall, or throw his books on the ground, or any of the other number of things he seemed to get satisfaction out of doing. He'd clutched his books tight, bracing himself.

Instead, Cori had, with halting, uncomfortable words, apologized to him. Actually apologized! Dream had been wary at first, sure it was just another way to hurt his feelings--he's been called gullible many times and he knows there's truth to it--but Cori hadn't taken it back, or suddenly turned on him again like he had every other time Dream had tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. He seemed genuine.

It was what Dream had always wanted, what he had always hoped for, so decided to take it and just pray that Cori wouldn't change his mind again in the future. Or trip him as he walked away.

He didn't, though. And as Dream left to walk to his next class, he couldn't help but feel victorious. He knew he would get through to him eventually! He'd always known that eventually people would grow out of their juvenile pranks and learn to treat others better. And finally it was starting to happen.

None of the other usual suspects bothered him that day, either. Nobody tried to trip him, or snickered when he said something overly sentimental in class. It was like overnight the world had woken up and decided to better itself. It was magical.

So he's still shaking a bit when he sits down across from Hob, who's already gotten him his mocha latte. When he doesn't say anything at first, just takes several long sips of his drink, Hob nudges his leg under the table.

"Everything alright?"

"Cori," Dream says, "apologized to me."

He must have milk foam on his lip, for Hob reaches across the table to wipe it away with his thumb, lingering on the corner of Dream's mouth. "Did he?"

Dream nods. "It- it did not seem to be a joke. Hob, I think he actually learned."

Hob smiles sweetly. "That's great, honey."

"Nobody tripped me today," Dream muses. "Or made fun of what I said in class. I cannot believe it. I knew that eventually people would grow up and learn how to treat others kindly, but it's startling to see it happen in real time."

"They must have learned from your example," Hob says. He takes Dream's hand on the table and starts playing idly with his fingers. Hob is very touchy-feely with him, always holding his hand, or playing with his fingers like they're a fidget toy, or petting his hair while they're lying in bed together. Dream found it strange at first. He was used to others he had attempted to date wanting to rough him up a little. When he questioned it, they would say, with a laugh, you're just too sheltered. Dream didn't think he was, particularly, he just didn't understand wanting to push someone around. At least not without finding out if they even liked it.

When Dream mentioned it, Hob had said, with a grimace, that Dream's kindness could be misinterpreted as innocence, and it made people want to 'corrupt him.' Dream didn't get it, but there were a lot of things he 'didn't get', at least according to other people. In any case, Hob didn't do that, because he knew Dream didn't like it, so Dream is content now. And he has Hob to at least attempt to interpret other people's odd behavior for him.

"I hope it sticks," he says, worriedly. "I would hate for Cori and the others to backslide now that they're finally making progress."

"Oh, don't worry," Hob says, bringing Dream's hand to his lips and kissing his knuckles. He looks at Dream over their joined hands, gaze absolutely sure, a look that never fails to make Dream shiver pleasantly when it's directed at him. "I think it'll stick."

[powerfultenderness]

Return

Summary: König misses his neighbor and pathetically eagerly waits for you to return. Paring: König/F!Reader Rated: T+ Word count: 1319 Notes: [More neighbor König] As always, König speaking German is in "italics".

In all his fantasies, you were always there when he came back home. He’d come home still covered in sweat and grime and you wouldn’t even care, you’d just run up and hug him. Then you’d fuss over him, insist that he eat something that you were keeping warm just for him. And he'd lead you back to his room and he'd eat what he really wanted.

But things were never quite like his fantasies. Instead of you waiting for him at the top of the stairs, you were gone. He only left for a few days, a meeting with executives nothing more, but he still couldn't wait to get back home and see you. The day he landed, you sent him a text saying that you would be away for a few days. There was a death in your brother-in-law's family and instead of making the kids miss a week of school, your sister asked you to stay with the kids. 

He sighed as he washed dishes. Usually, if you ate dinner together (which was more often than not these days), you would do the dishes together too. It turned the task from something boring and tedious to something exciting and even fun. He’ll never forget the night that dishes turned into a little soapy splash war while you were wearing a white blouse. Sure you went home shortly after, a little embarrassed and keeping your arms crossed over your chest, but that only fueled his dreams even more. He went to sleep imagining that the pillow under his head was instead your soft chest.

For a moment he wondered if he could sneak into your flat (as much as one sneaks when they have a key!) and sleep in your bed, surrounded by your scent and warmth. He didn't. He thought about it, a lot, but he didn't want to break the trust you put in him when you gave him your spare key. Nor could he bear the thought that you'd think less of him. 

So he did the next best thing. He slept with his nose pressed into the blanket that you usually wrapped around you when you complained that he kept his flat a little too cold. 

On Tuesday he tried calling you after work, but you were busy with the various after school activities the kids had, so the conversation was short. “Welcome back! I missed you too! I’ll be back Friday night. Gotta go, g’night!” 

At least he got to hear your voice. 

He tried to text you on Wednesday, but by the time you answered, he was already starting to get tired and the conversation fizzled out pretty quickly. 

He slept with the pillow that you usually leaned on that night. It wasn’t the same, he wasn’t even sure if he could actually still smell you or if it was just his imagination. But it reminded him of you, so he held it close in his sleep.

He could hardly sit still Friday, impatient enough to raise a few eyebrows when he rushed home as soon as he could, as if that would make you get home any faster. No, he just didn’t want to miss you, he hadn’t seen you in so long that he needed to spend as much time with you as possible.

Should he question when and how he became this attached to his neighbor? Probably, yes. But he wasn’t going to, not when his phone just lit up with a text from you saying that you were on the way home. 

Then he froze, his heart hammering in his chest as he realized that he hadn’t changed out of his work clothes. He cursed under his breath and rushed through a shower, he even shaved the five o’clock shadow off his chin. He paced around his room so much trying to decide how “casual” he should look that he practically air dried.

An alert on his phone told him that someone had just set off the motion detector he set up in the stairway. (He'd take it down later!) And he rushed to finish dressing. Simple gray sweats and a black t-shirt. He hesitated when his hands hovered over his makeshift mask but when he heard footsteps in the hall he grabbed it and hastily threw it over his head, at least he could hide any embarrassing faces he'd make. 

He managed to pause and catch his breath before he opened the door, seeing you standing in front of your door with your keys in hand. 

You only had the door unlocked, not even opened yet, when König emerged from his flat, your name a cheerful exclamation on his lips. 

“König!” You laughed as he quickly gathered you in his arms. 

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hood pushed up so that his lips were pressed into your skin as he mumbled something in German. You were grateful for how many cognates German and English shared, you figured he was saying something about you coming home. 

“Ok! Ok!” You laughed again as you wiggled in his arms. “Let me put my things inside!” 

“No! No!” He shook his head, face still pressed to your neck. “If you leave  again you won’t come back!” 

“Then come inside with me!” You protested with a giggle. 

He nodded and leaned down just enough to grab your bag in one hand, the other securely placed on your back. You wrapped your legs around him when you realized he had no intention of putting you back on your feet. “You act like I’m the one that went off to war!” 

“You were gone long enough.”

“It was a week!” Admittedly by the end of the week you were eager to get home and just as eager to see König again. 

He carelessly dropped your bag by the door and locked it behind him before you carried you to the couch, where he laid you down and climbed on top of you. “Like I said,” he once again buried his face in the crook of your neck, “too long.” 

“You,” you shifted beneath him, allowing the two of you to get more comfortable, König ended up with his head resting on your chest, your heartbeat lulling him into an easy relaxed state. “-are acting like a big baby.” You finished with a chuckle.

König hummed and looked up at you, resting his chin between your breasts, “you are good at taking care of babies. Will you take care of me?” 

You let out a sharp laugh that you tried to hold back, giggling at his absurdity. When you finally had your laughter under control, you met his eyes again. He was looking up at you reverently, like you were about to say something profound. You just smiled sweetly at him, “only if you promise to always come home to me.” 

He nodded quickly, “I promise.” 

“Good.” 

“Good.” He nodded again and went back to resting his head on your chest.

“Ok, now get up.” You nudged him, though he didn’t budge. 

“Already breaking your promise, my love?” 

You rolled your eyes and nudged him again, “noo. Just suggesting we move to my room, it’d be more comfortable.” 

König paused before he finally pushed himself up, “yea ok, you’re right.”

Even as he stood, he didn’t let go of you, pulling you up with him and keeping his arms around you as you led him to your room. 

As he slipped into bed behind you, wrapping you up in his arms and holding you close, it felt so easy to drift off to sleep, the anxiety that had been gnawing at him all week gone in what felt like an instant. 

Even as your presence lulled him to sleep, he knew what it was. He’d been back for a week but it finally felt like he was home.

End Notes: This was a totally unplanned chapter, but I'll write what I can these days.

[Neighbor!König Masterlist]

Neighbor König taglist (blurbs): 

@warrior-of-justice  @cumikering @ihateuguys @rand0m--fangirl @keiva1000 @dtftheavengers @takeyour-pants-off @aeeliy @milenko115 @sodonuthideout @onegami @nadiauddincrafts @nadiauddincrafts @grizzersmamma @flooftoof @techs-ass @virginalsacrifice @s0rc3r3r @sleeplessskeleton @introvered-violinist @tizylish @romula96 @peach-habibitch @mitchlow @queenotaku27 @fenixnegras @emmbny @love-dove-noora @lesbianmitsuri @supergirl16 @wybwtjmiadz @ghonigsloverbabe @thatmusedhatter @grassclippers @skystreamchan @lordlydragon @luvecarson @thetestsubject666 @mafer383 @darkangel4121 @puppylikethedog  @trashitytrashitytrash @teapartydreams 

[g3tj1nx3d14]

even more caitvi / violyn because i’m bored !! fair warning i’m SO tired so these will be incoherent

warning, spoilers up to act three season two, NSFW after the big warning, and mentions of alc + w33d

SFW

• I see a lot of people saying Vi would smoke, but I fear Caitlyn could also be a bit of a stoner. She was insanely nervous when Vi got her to try smoking, but after her first time taking an edible and getting in a bubble bath with a book? She’s relaxed, that’s her new favorite little thing.

• Vi quit drinking after her underground fighting time. She doesn’t like how it makes her feel, especially as she’s been trying to develop more healthy coping mechanisms for stress.

• Caitlyn gets jealous. It’s harder to tell, as when Vi gets jealous— which is much rarer than Caitlyn— she tends to be very obvious. Grabbing Caitlyn’s waist, the obvious comments of “MY girlfriend”, maybe even straight up PDA. But Caitlyn? Oh, you looked at Vi the right way and all of the sudden Caitlyn is plotting your downfall. She doesn’t share well, at all.

• Random less wholesome one because I like hurting people emotionally; when Caitlyn got out of surgery for her eye— considering she lost it, there must’ve been some sort of surgical process post stabbing— she didn’t call for Vi or Jayce like expected. She called for her mom.

• Vander used to just yank his kids around, so the kids did it to each other too. Not in any bad way, just scruffing them or pulling them over his shoulder with no hesitation. Vi didn’t notice most families didn’t do this until the first time she wanted to show Caitlyn something in the other room and decided to just yank her out of her seat and carry her into the other room.

• Vi and Caitlyn would SO have a dog. 100%. There’s no disagreements there, but on the name? A huge disagreement. Caitlyn wants to name it a cute person name, while Vi wants to name it something stupid. They both train it to respond to their name. This dog ends up named like, Florence but also replies to Microwave.

• Given the amount of explosions they’ve both been in proximity to, they both have wonky hearing. They’re either always super close to hear each other properly or kind of shouting and not realizing it.

• Vi gets more piercings. 100% would.

okay freaky time, warning we’re lowk getting nasty in a good way

NSFW

• I need to elaborate on the Vi bites thing because I’m so sure it’s true to me. She’s biting Caitlyn’s shoulder anytime it’s exposed. Biting her fingers whenever they’re near her mouth. Biting down on her thighs. Everything. She grins like a smug idiot whenever she sees Caitlyn with teeth marks.

• Similarly, Vi is a hickey leaver. She takes it as a challenge whenever she sees Caitlyn try to cover up a love bite.

• Caitlyn tried to do a similar thing, leaving lipstick marks all over her face to embarrass her, but she was proven to be an idiot for that when Vi proudly showed everyone what her girlfriend did.

• Vi would SO be a strap user I fear, and she treats it like it’s her own. I know a lot of people hc the hex strap as feeling like it’s an actual appendage for the user, but if she’s using that or not, Vi is 100% using that shit like she can. Now I can’t stop imagining Cait giving her strap head SORRY IM A FREAK

• Vi tried to tease a few times, but Caitlyn was somehow even more patient than her and cracked before she did.

• Caitlyn used to think she’d always be solely into very pre-planned sex— think candles, already having a plan of what she’d do beforehand, never spur of the moment— but Vi quickly changed her mind. Before Vi, she usually had to spend a bit of time before any hook up trying to make herself get worked up, but with Vi? She could see her in her pajamas, half brushed hair, just grinning at her in a certain way, and she’s jumping on her.

• Vi lowkey seems like the type to lick her fingers after ✌️.

[terrietont]

Yes thank you! As someone who exhibits a lot of these traits with quite a few of these characters, it feels super ableist to me especially because women with different personalities and traits that seem too “weird” often get bullied a lot, especially teenage girls! But you never hear any of this “EvERy PriNcess The SamE” about male characters that are “quirky!” And it infuriates me! Let women be silly for the love of fuck!

Plus if that’s all people see about the characters, they obviously haven’t even paid attention to what said characters are doing! They’re more than just “quirky” many of them are harboring trauma and anxiety and there’s only so many ways one copes with those things. Sometimes it’s being spontaneous, sometimes it’s sleeping a lot. Women are more than their appearance!

I have seen complaints about Moana, in fact recently. People saying she’s “akorable” because she can be silly and she’s also A TEENAGER (at least in movie 1 I haven’t seen the sequel so I can’t judge)

But fucking hell man. People will look at women and judge them immediately.

Just go ahead and tell me you would judge me because I have AuDHD and I often make little jokes and quirky sounds every so often to stim and I’m also clumsy and self conscious. Tell me you would say I’m “doing it for attention” because being myself isn’t normal.

I look up to so many of these characters because I understand so much of their anxieties and trauma and the love of being silly without being judged.

Frozen for example connects with me to this day since my sister and I are so close as friends and I was once the ‘conceal don’t feel’ type and my sister I often say is like Anna. She’s determined, she loves her sister so much, she can be clumsy and silly and also break down from time to time, she has a little bit of a temper but she’s still got so much kindness and respect.

I’m like Elsa in many ways too. I get very bad anxiety, I can be creative when I’ve focused. I prefer being alone a lot of the time but I still want company. I can be silly and joke around and I struggle with crowds and prefer to be in nature.

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again.

Despite these characters being conventionally attractive, it’s the fact that they have a personality that many people wouldn’t find “attractive” because they’re clumsy, highly emotional, silly, can make awkward mistakes and often seem airheaded.

I’m so sick of women only being seen as Boobs and Butts and also “Manic pixie dream girls” just for being “not normal” Why do men get to be silly and goofy? But as soon as a woman/non cis gendered man has a personality and flaws it’s considered “too quirky”? Get fucked!

It’s hurtful to see people pinpoint neurodivergent behavior in women as being “quirky uwu” and not women unmasking and being themselves. Being silly is being real to me!

I don’t care if it’s fictional or not, it’s rooted in reality. The way people react to women being not socially acceptable even in fiction happens in real life and it hurts. I can’t be on good terms with someone who looks at these characters and thinks that they’re just “quirky” and not that maybe a ND person could relate to them because she also happens to have a lot of the same traits and trauma.

LET. WOMEN. BE. SILLY.

Not saying all Disney Princesses should have the same personality, but I can’t help but have an itching feeling that a lot of the pushback against “quirky” and “adorkable” princesses is rooted in at least some form of misogyny. I mean, what? Girls can’t be socially awkward? Is that what you’re saying?

[liketolaugh-writes]

Re: the Fenton Parents-

The thing is, it's not abusive to be just... sort of okay at parenting. It is not abusive to be unable to stop your kid from behaving erratically, to not be able to figure out what's wrong, to not be able to stop your kid from lying to you and sneaking out of the house. They tried! They spend several episodes trying, which is, frankly, a lot of screentime for a 45-episode series (movies excluded)! They just were never able to figure out what was wrong.

(If you're curious: S1E7, S1E17, S2E9, and S3E3 all center around plotlines where the Fenton parents make an active effort to connect with their kids... and that's leaving out episodes where it's merely a major element and not half the plot.)

(It's also not neglectful to assume that a man showing an inappropriate interest in a married adult woman is probably not inappropriately interested in a teenage boy, especially when Danny hasn't said anything. That would frankly be a really weird assumption to make, and it only seems obvious to us because... we already know.)

You can say that they never showed the Fentons taking Danny to the hospital after his accident... but we also aren't shown that they didn't do that. We know nothing about the immediate aftermath of the accident. Stupid Desiree reality-warp episode aside.

It never said that they knew about Danny's accident... it also never said that they didn't. (Personally, I think that it would be super out of character for Jazz to know and not tell them, regardless of whether or not they're neglectful? Jazz, like Danny, has faith in them.)

You can say that we didn't see how the Fentons fed their kids when the food in the house was contaminated... but we also never heard that they didn't do that. There was not a word about missing meals, not even from Jazz.

Do I think the Fentons were abusive?

The simple answer: yes!

The complex answer: But not in any of the ways I usually see depicted.

The thing is- the thing is, I think that the only thing the Fentons did that was genuinely abusive - not just a mistake, not just they could have done better - is their godawful lab safety. That is where they knew better, knew what they were doing was wrong, and did it anyway. The house wasn't safe and that was entirely on them, and danger on that level is criminally neglectful.

But that's a very unusual profile. It's not that they didn't care enough about their kids. It's not that they didn't pay attention to their children, or that they prioritized their work over their family, or that they neglect their responsibilities. (For God's sake, they go to multiple parent-teacher conferences! Jack chaperoned a dance he didn't remember agreeing to attend! Maddie woke up in the middle of the night, not yet knowing there were ghosts around, and immediately went to find Danny!)

They were just, quite literally, criminally irresponsible, which is a different breed of family trauma altogether.

Now, Danny definitely experienced domestic violence. Was Danny physically abused? Absolutely. But because of identity shenanigans, 'was Danny physically abused?' and 'are the Fentons physically abusive?' are two very different questions. 'Was Danny physically abused?' is about Danny's childhood and the trauma he gained from it; 'are the Fentons physically abusive?' is a statement about their personalities. And this extends out to all of the other ways they failed Danny because they never knew about his ghost half.

Did Danny experience that trauma? Yes. Would the Fentons ever knowingly do those things to their child? No. (This contrast causes Danny a lot of stress.)

Of course, a lot of this is still rooted in headcanon, and other interpretations are equally valid! Just as it's never shown that they didn't make sure their kids got every meal, it's also never shown that they did. Just because it's never said that their kids couldn't catch their parents' attention when they needed help, doesn't mean that they could. But I wanted to get my thoughts down, since it's a fairly significant divergence from most of the standard interpretations.

[hyperpotamianarch]

Hello. Today, I'd like to make some random anecdotes about Rabbi Avraham Ibn Ezra - poet, commentator, linguist, mathmatician, probably not too bad at chess and cursed to be poor for the entirety of his life.

After a cursory look at his wikipedia page, I must admit I didn't really know much about his life: only that he was born and raised in Spain, went travelling, had terrible luck with everything, wrote his commentaries on the Torah for money (which I think didn't help with the "cursed to be poor" thing), befriended Rabbenu Tam in France, possibly married the daughter of Rabbi Yehudah HaLevi and promptly died... somewhere... oh, and also wrote lots of poetry in the middle.

Historically speaking, he lived at the end of the Golden Age of Judaism in Spain, around the 11th-12th centuries CE. This puts him right after Rashi - which allows him to snark at everything he thinks Rashi was wrong about, but before Rambam - which means he doesn't get to snark at everything Rambam got wrong. His commentary on the Torah leans a little towards the linguistic side, though he has a couple of other things going on as well, like roasting people he disagrees with (Ben Zuta is the only friend a bull has, anyone?) and dancing around verses he thinks were added later to the Torah, like every time it says "to this very day".

He also wrote one of the first math books in Hebrew - Sefer HaMispar, he wrote a poem about chess, one about how whatever he'll work at he won't get enough money. And generally, he wrote poems. Quite a lot.

I suppose at this point I should mention something: Hebrew linguists were, at the middle ages, predominantly Sepharadi. I mean, sure, there could be a non-Jewish Hebrew linguist, but for some reason I don't hear much about those. And there probably were Ashkenazi linguists, but there weren't many of them. Rashi does deal with linguistics - but half the time he does, it's using the books of two famous Sepharadi linguists. The Sepharadim, living in Muslim lands as they were, simply had a better background with learning Hebrew, since they were surrounded by speakers of a closely related language - Arabic. And Ibn Ezra's deep understanding of Hebrew led to him loving linguistic riddles, which I can never figure out - and I was reading an eddition with footnotes! Though maybe I didn't make enough effort or something.

But no, the reason I wanted to talk about Ibn Ezra was the impossible standards for poetry, as set by Sepharadi poets. You see, Jews were always influenced by their surroundings, in multiple facets. and poetry is definitely one of them. So, the influence from Arab poets includes strict rules for rhythm and - and this is what I actually wanted to talk about - rhyming.

The rythm thing is bad enough. Only once in my life have I tried keeping up with that. It was very, very hard. It's probably because I'm not used to this, but no song I write can keep a consistent rhythm and meter, and that's without trying to apply the standard Sepharadic rules. So trying to have such a strict meter... didn't work well for me. I guess I'm the frenchman from

וּמִי הֵבִיא לְצָרְפַתִּי בְּבֵית שִׁיר,

וְעָבַר זָר מְקוֹם קֹדֶשׁ וְרָמָס;

וְלוּ שִׁיר יַעֲקֹב יִמְתַּק כְּמוֹ מָן,

אֲנִי שֶׁמֶשׁ, וְחַם שִׁמְשִׁי וְנָמָס.

which was actually written about Rabenu Tam, but I'm a distant relative of his so this might still be applicable. Besides, as far as you know my name is Ya'akov, just like Rabenu Tam! (Sorry for not providing a translation, the gist is "how dare a frenchman trample all over poetry?!")

But rhymes. Oh, the Ibn Ezraic rhyming standards.

According to Ibn Ezra, one must always rhyme with the entire syllable. So no, just the last sound isn't enough. In Ibn Ezra's book, rhyme and dime don't actually rhyme - though I don't think he'd care about English at all. For the Ibn Ezra, shor and ḥamor can't be rhymed with each other; shor can rhyme with Mishor, and ḥamor can rhyme with har hamor, but you can't rhyme any other pair of those with each other. And I can't stay up to this challenge. It's nearly always impossible for me to find proper words to rhyme even without the extra demand for the rhyme to be the entire syllable. With English I don't think I even bothered or ever will. You have too many weird syllables for me. But with Hebrew... I do try with Hebrew, really. But I can't keep this up. And the most frustrating thing? It doesn't appear other Ashkenazi writers had this problem.

Now we get to the interesting part. I have been trying lately a new possible format for my very-anticipated-and-definitely-not-only-I-want-it Jewsade fanfic: introduction, preface and Haskamot to books. I just really enjoy reading prefaces for books, and one of my recent favourite pieces of writing is the conclusion piece of the Vilna edition of the Babylonian Talmud. If you're interested - it can be found in most editions of the Talmud at the very end of Masechet Nidah. The piece describes the trouble they went through to publish this edition of the Talmud and it's very interesting. Another favourite piece of mine is the preface of the Levush, a slightly obscure Halachic book from the time of the Shulchan Aruch. If you've ever seen me talk about the race to Halacha - this is my source for that, because the poor author was upstaged about three to four times by other people doing exactly what he planned on doing. I highly recommend this piece as well, though I don't know how easy it is to find. And the Levush - Rabbi Mordechai Yeffe - is a nice Ashkenazi guy. So he must be more lenient with his rhymes, right?

Well, I guess I didn't establish that part. Yes, the preface to the Levush starts with a poem. It's fun. It's great. It's also up to the Ibn Ezraic standard, while my attempt to write an equivalent is... not.

Huh. This post is oddly rambly. Ah well, maybe someone will like it. Anyway, the preface portion that really takes the cake is actually one from a fairly recent obscure book - like, this one was written barely a century ago. I only found it because one of my favourite singers, Aharon Razel, made a song out of it, but the song doesn't really capture the hilarity of the piece. Do ask me if you want to hear more, this one's great.

Signing off with a "darn you, Ibn Ezra! Why must you set such high standards!"

[lexicorp]

Transformers Earthspark: Another Place, Another Prison

Got a weird little chapter where the perspective shifts from Megs to right back to Star. I swear dude, when i write these peeps I can't help but slip a bit of TFP into them. It was my first fave after all, and it often fills in some of the cracks for me. Oh and also a bit of Armada energy or a bit of other stuff from things i've heard/seen from comics and shit. Totally mish mash inspo admittedly.

[also side note: I don't necessarily ship op and meg, I mainly used the partner title as platonic and referencing that Megs doesn't rlly see him as his leader per say. I kinda like to keep the ship ambiguity much like the shows do tbh]

But yeh, first a short bit of Op and Megs talkin about our seeker creature. Then we see said creature fucking around with the chaos powers and getting into a bit of trouble. It ended up a lot more brutal than I initially outlined it i must admit-- but don't worry! After this insanity, the bots actually might realize how much of a non sustainable solution it is to keep Star in there.

Previous Chapter: An Unwanted Sequel

First Chapter: The Need For Read

Next Chapter: The Illusion of Freedom

Chapter 7: A Broken Boogeyman

“I just don’t know, Optimus.” 

Megatron leaned against the steel bars overseeing the cameras with crossed arms. He’d been loitering in silence for quite some time as he observed Ori–Optimus, type away at the databanks. Prowl and him had been working rather constantly in the effort to locate the ship the Decepticons had stolen. But Megatron had asked him to relocate his efforts to this access point to their system, so that they could keep an eye on Starscream.

“About what?” His old friend finally inquired. The mech surely knew of what he spoke, yet was merely prodding him to further explain his thoughts.

“Starscream.” Megatron gestured towards the caged seeker on the screen, even if Optimus wasn’t looking at him. His former second was just pacing as he so often did, but he also seemed to be intentionally calling upon that unstable power Megatron had seen him carry. “His recent behavior bothers me.”

“That so?” Optimus removed his servos from the keys and turned to face him as a show of his attention. “What about it concerns you?”

Megatron stared at the monitor a moment before sighing and refocusing his gaze upon Optimus. “The aggression. It is less like him to lash out in the way I’ve witnessed as of late. When it comes to his anger, I've known him to often be more… snide, than explosive. Do you suppose it has to do with the corrupted Emberstone incident?” A rather vague question, yet he knew his partner would understand the full scope of its implications. 

“I suppose,” Optimus followed Megatron’s previous gaze to the smaller corner of the large board of screens displaying the seeker for a moment. Of whom looked to be rambling about something, and punching the wall in a little tantrum. “It is rather odd. Even so, should it not bring you comfort that he is within our custody? He poses no threat from here. Or is it perhaps a more personal matter to you, Megatron? Did the conversation you two shared not go well?”

“It went as well as it could. We have…never been quite good at…talking.” Megatron tapped a finger against his plating in thought. Starscream had always held a particular seat in his mind through the years. He kept him on his toes, even when Megatron hadn’t wanted him to. “I know it seems like he is secure at the moment,” He continued, “yet I cannot help but question how long it will be until he manages to escape and continue on with his questionable goals. I had tried to determine what his next move could be, but he still eludes me with his backwards talk.”

Optimus hummed and slowly began to resume his typing, now only half focusing on his work. “Would perhaps, upping security ease your mind old friend?” 

“Perhaps…” Megatron contemplates this offer. What more security could be implemented? It seemed useless to station someone outside Starscream’s cell to just sit there when they could be useful elsewhere, especially when they already have eyes on him from here. Plus, he could just use someone’s presence as an opportunity to trick them somehow. Obviously then, Megatron would be the best suited for such a station, but that was not going to happen. Prowl would likely not trust him for the task. They may have gotten on slightly friendlier terms, but one act in battle could not wash away centuries. Well…that statement could be debated on circumstance, he supposed. But that was a worn out topic in his processor.

“Regardless, I can assure you, that even if he does somehow escape as he did before; we will be notified immediately.” Optimus’ antennae tipped back only slightly, in a way that informed of the ridiculous smirk the mech no doubt brought to his faceplate. “You should not worry so much! Maybe all you need is a walk in the sun. That is what the humans say is a cure-all for a dower mood! We have been stuck in this stuffy rock for quite some time, after all.”

Megatron chuckled, “If you are going to try and send me off on some frivolous nature stroll, then I will be forced to drag your workaholic aft out there with me!” He removed himself from the steel ledge guards and made his way by Optimus’ side to punch his shoulder. “You need it just as much as I.”

Optimus rolled his eyes and glared with a fond grin at the playful threat. “That may be so, but my responsibilities as leader would not allow me such things at this time.”

“Preposterous! Shoulder the load to someone else. You cannot rust in here while insisting I take leave.” Megatron put his hands on his hips like he was talking to a sparkling. Which his old friend very well could be sometimes.

“I will not simply pass my burdens upon my comrades for my own pleasure, thank you.”

Megatron groaned, “Oh don’t phrase it like that.” 

Optimus sighed and brushed Megatron out of the way to reach a different conduit. “It is accurate. Now unless you intend on assisting me with my work, you should decompress elsewhere for the time being.”

Megatron’s posture drooped slightly as he watched his partner continue on in his mission. The fool was always so focused on others. Putting so much pressure on his plate alone like he was the soul force that kept the planets aligned. Sure, he occasionally relied on others quite well. But in these past years of working alongside his partner, Megatron had seen just how absurdly stubborn the mech could be.

He knew the Prime would want him to simply heed his word and not pry further, as per their conversation about Megatron’s tendency to question him perhaps a bit too often. Even so, this was different. A matter of a concerned compatriot enforcing a bit of necessary self-care. Whether the mech would be mad at him or not was an irrelevant notion, and could even be quite amusing.

So Megatron began to extend a hand to take the Matrix driven mech’s arm, “Come now Optimus–”

When suddenly, the alarm blared obnoxiously through the base. Megatron’s helm immediately shot to the monitor to see a cell filled with nothing but a bit of ash and a barrier littered with chaotic sparks.

Starscream was gone.

***

Starscream paced back and forth across his prison in a rather short path. An intentional stride, as he found that the less distance he allowed himself to travel, the more it lent to instead increasing the tension within him. That was what he needed. Calm wasn’t going to get him out of here. 

Frag having a cool head. Any rational plan would just come back to blow up in his face. No, they’d expect that classic, clever, scheming Starscream. They’d surely predict any little uselessly intricate plan he could concoct, and crush it, if his own Primus damned processor didn’t accomplish that first. 

Red lightning was steadily increasing in intensity across his frame. Good.

No one had visited him after his horribly done exchange with Hashtag, and that had left him with plenty of time to focus on finally getting a better handle on Quitus’ curse. It thrived off of anger, spite, and destructive thoughts. Starscream had that in spades! If it wanted him to disintegrate the structure housing them, or crush the mechs caging him into sniveling lumps of slag, it was about time it helped him do it. 

“You will do as I command or so help me Quintus–” Starscream hissed at the crimson air as he flexed his shaking servos.

“Planning on showing the world just how dangerous you truly are, Transformer?” Mandroid was right by his peds with his absolutely revolting amalgamation of parts and flesh before him. “Prove me right.” The wretched pest had such a mad grin on its squishy faceplate and a taunting tone that made him sick. Making the power surge in his spark. 

Starscream yelled in a rather embarrassingly feral manner as he launched a fist down upon its helm–head–whatever the damn human had! Even with his new found speed and electrified assault power under his control, the illusion managed to escape into whatever Pit it had spawned from. All with an infuriating laugh. He thrusted a fist into the wall to test his strength against it, before turning to survey the little space he aimed to destroy.

“I will never take orders from a human.” Starscream growled at the phantom. “I will use this power because I need to. What I will prove, is just how capable I am no matter what these fragging fools throw at me!” He began to laugh. “They think… They think they can cage me like an animal. That they can just mock me, and leave me to rust away out of sight from whatever pathetic fantasy they think they’ve created for themselves out there?! They think they can leave me behind as they praise the oh so beloved LORD Megatron– DO THEY? She thinks I am WORSE than HIM, does she? Oh… but I can be so much better…”

The power shot through his frame and out from his peds, causing him to yell in surprise from the sudden shock. He panted unevenly on his knees as his wings shook painfully, pulling a servo to his helm to grip the edge of his optic. No… he couldn’t focus on revenge right now. He just needed to get out. 

“Mm… Regardless…” He dragged his impaired frame from the floor with an addled voice box, slouching far much more than he would like. He felt heavy. He hated it. But it was a necessary evil to lean into this curse’s power. 

Starscream made his way over to the barrier that led into the corridor, and directed the lightning to collect at his servos and shoot into its target. It rapidly spread across the surface which rippled and strained to keep its shape. His spark ached as he forced it out, and finally, the barrier sputtered and shrunk away into pathetic wisps. The controls were sparking wildly and exploded into a stream of smoke. 

He hesitated in the doorway for a nano klick before a siren shrieked through his audials, causing him to yelp and spring into action. His peds automatically tracked the same path they had taken the last time he’d broken out. He wasn’t thinking about whether it’d be predictable. Whether they’d be waiting for him. Or if the exit he had closed off would actually be open again. He was just running. 

And this time, as soon as the force fields began closing behind him, he immediately transformed and blasted through the tunnel. Starscream’s engines shot red as the lightning flickered off his frame. He was going so fast that if he weren’t the exceedingly skilled flier he was, he’d have eaten metal by now. But of course he naturally dodged around every corner and eventually–

No. He needed a missile to destroy the door. But he hadn’t had the time to locate his confiscated weaponry. 

Starscream transformed mid-air to launch himself into the door in a super powered kick. Only a sizable, useless dent resulted. He looked at it in disbelief then turned to survey his surroundings wildly. There had to be another way. He dashed around the closed off room at a blinding speed. There was no other exit that wasn’t already blocked.

“SCRAP! NO NO NO ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” Starscream desperately shot streams of lightning at the door. Punched and kicked as hard as he could–and it was starting to work! He just needed to focus on the bent seam… But he heard a crowd of noisy pedsteps rapidly approaching his position. They were barking some strings of orders to each other or perhaps at him, but he didn’t care to make out what any of it was. He just needed to–

Suddenly, the space between his wings was burning in an all too familiar way, and his front was thrusted into the uneven wall. Time was up. It couldn’t end this way so easily. There was no way he wouldn’t go down without a fight now. Starscream quickly stumbled to his peds and turned to immediately blast a stream of crimson lightning from his servo. 

The group of bots scattered in surprise, with one blasted mech attempting ridiculously to call out his designation.

“Stop this now, Starscream! You know you are outnumbered!” Megatron was once again so desperately trying to control him. Acting like he knew his limits of what he could and couldn’t do. 

“SHUT UP!” He screamed as he threw continuous follies of the curse’s power at his assailants. “I will not allow you to have the pleasure of taking me alive today to be smelted under your petty gaze! Either I am getting out of here, OR NOBODY IS!” Maybe Starscream could draw their fire at the door behind him, or maybe he could simply disintegrate them all here and now and seize the base for himself. Both flickering visions in his processor paired with all the ways he could leave them as smoldering piles of ash. The siren still wouldn’t cease its incessant whining. 

The surrounding mechs became scattered, and he rapidly made certain to dodge every shot sent his way paired with an equal retaliation. He’d get some shots off, but they were still closing in. He finally managed to get the pink one to stay down, leaving the red femme to see to her companion like a weak fool. Starscream attempted to shoot the pair to finish them off, but was blocked by that slagger Prime with his stupid axe. 

There was still Megatron lurking in his hazed vision, and he redirected his fire toward the bucket head. Yet something bothered him about the roster he saw around him. Where was that blasted bot Prowler? Why wasn’t he here with them? Bumblebee’s absence could be excused, but that tactician’s was far too precarious. Were they planning something?

Suddenly, Megatron and the others slinked a peculiar amount of steps from his position. Something was happening. 

Blasters retracted from the ceilings and began raining relentless fire upon him. He frantically dodged what he could, but was surprised by the unexpected direction, resulting in a hole to be scorched through his wing before he could decommission the blasters. While he was distracted, the Prime attempted to rush him, but he was all too obvious and Starscream dived out of the way with the intent of a counter attack. Apparently, that was what they wanted, because then he found Megatron’s monstrous chassis slamming into him. 

“GET OFF OF ME!” Starscream demanded as he struggled for control. 

“Not until you surrender!” Megatron was insane! The longer he remained in contact with Starscream’s corrupted frame, he was easily in the line of fire to become overcome from helm to ped with the electricity. But he wouldn’t let go. Starscream could hardly move.

“Never.” Starscream growled lowly through his absurdly rapid vents, of which were absolutely useless in cooling the heat burning his spark and processor. He kicked and pulled in practically any effort he could to gain some leverage. Yet right when he had finally freed a servo to try and deck Megatron in the faceplate, of course the Prime had to step in and force Starscream’s servo back to the ground with his axe. A flash of amusement flitted through him at how the reckless leader of the Autobots was less willing to touch him than the ever self-perseverating former warlord.

“It’s over, Starscream. Stand down.” Megatron growled through gritted dentas, and crushed Starscream’s ped as a nice little punctuation to his order. 

Starscream refused to give the silver brute the scream or pleas of mercy he no doubt sought from the action. All the same, he felt like he was about to explode. The power wracking his frame was starting to take its toll. The world was spinning, and the more he continued to struggle, the more desperately he felt the need to be anywhere but in this moment. Well, perhaps not anywhere. Surely he could think of many worse things–scrap that was a bad direction to take that thought. 

The siren warped into a wretched ringing that swirled in his helm. His optics were glitching so harshly that he could barely make out pixels beyond mere silhouettes, and the lights glared painfully. He could feel his vocalizer saying something to his captors, and he could faintly recognize that they were responding. But what were they saying? He didn’t want this power anymore. It hadn’t helped him. It never did. 

“W– tranq–quickly!”

What?

Starscream tried to look at what they were doing as he pushed against Megatron’s servo. It was a needle. They were getting closer. 

He panicked and flailed to the point that he twisted his stabilizing servo out of its socket to allow his upper half the opportunity to slip out from under the mech for even just a moment. But it didn’t matter. He was pinned again and they stuck him with whatever it was.

Of which, rapidly started making every circuit in his frame feel disgustingly limp.

He desperately fought to stay conscious. But just like everything in his life. It was useless.

[steamberrystudio]

2024 wrap-up and 2025 plans

It's been a really weird year for me and the last few months have been particularly challenging - so much so that I can't really remember much of the start of the year. There's been a lot that has happened and yet it feels like almost nothing has happened.

With a personal move in the works at the moment, and lots of lists and packing and cleaning, the last couple of weeks have felt like a blur of limbo as well.

But rather than just complaining let's jump into the wrap up and plans for 2025.

2024 Progress Wrap up

When looking back over a year of visual novel development, it can be really easy to forget progress and victories because it all smears together into an indistinct timeline.

You know stuff happened but you lose sight of the details of that stuff.

Even while writing this last night, I forgot that A Faerie's Tale was something completed and released this year. I remembered it just now while doing a final proofread of this post.

Development is such a long and repetitive process that you forget all the individual steps it took to get where you are. When I look back over 2024, I admit I feel like I somehow didn't do that much...that time slipped away while I did very little actual work.  

And of course, that isn't true. (Or is it?? Self-doubt assures me that I didn't do anything noteworthy this year.)

When Stars Collide

At the start of 2024, When Stars Collide sat at 485,000 words. I was finishing up editing Asher's route but had portions of the other routes to draft. The UI was still the old design, most of the backgrounds were incomplete and none of the additional features like the flowcharts and affinity meters were set up.  

I wanted to release an updated demo and the more new people told me they were playing the demo, the more I died inside because it was not at all reflective of the project any more. But I was missing critical backgrounds that I actually got only a few weeks before Episode 1 went to beta.

The point is that back at the start of 2024 the game was still very unfinished but I had big plans. My goal was originally to start releasing episodes in June of 2024 but editing and coding just took so much longer than expected that it just wasn't possible.

From a writing perspective, I learned that drafting and editing a game in this overlapping route style was hard. It was just genuinely so much more difficult than the separate route structure I'm used to. It really requires different processes and styles of planning than what I've done in the past. The burden of meticulously matching a timeline of events across 6 routes simultaneously is really tricky with the way I write and form the choices in my games.  

You kind of have to either never refer back to anything that happens within a choice scenario or you have to remember and track a lot of variables and conversations and events. Additionally, writing one plot line from multiple relationship perspectives is actually quite tricky. Things have to align in very specific ways but you also kind of want to make sure that each play through is interesting. You don't want the conversations within the LI-specific content to be identical but they have to be similar enough you can manage the difference with a few key variables.  

I honestly found it a really exhausting way to write. There's so much less complexity and so much more freedom when you are writing separate routes. And for that reason, the writing took a lot longer than I am used to.

One day I want to write up all my thoughts on route structure in visual novels but I haven't had time yet.

Ultimately I drafted about 172,000 words this year. The total word count of the game before I coded it was around 657,000 words - plus an additional 8-10k or so of bonus content. Of course, that shrinks when I code it but that was the total uncoded word count. So that is quite a jump from the 485,000 words I started with this year.  

I always say that working on VNs really skews your view of what "a lot" of words is. To me, as weird as it is to say, 180k doesn't feel like that much writing, which is silly because it's like writing two YA novels.   

But between the end of the Kickstarter for Gilded Shadows and the end of that year, I think I wrote about 250,000 words. That's 70,000 more words but in less time. I think it just shows how much more difficult writing WSC has been due to the structure of the routes.  

I remember having a conversation with someone once where she told me that writing a game like Gilded Shadows is *definitely* harder and more work than writing a game like When Stars Collide. GS has multiple plots and a lot more words. In WSC, the routes share a plot, they share scenes and content, there's only one plot line and there are far fewer words.  

I think it really underestimates the simplicity buff and the freedom buff that you get from having a single separate route in its own space time where you don't have to care as heavily about continuity across routes or a shared timeline of events or all of this other stuff that was such a burden to me when writing overlapping routes.  

I maintain that I'm really glad I wrote When Stars Collide the way I did. I learned so much about game structure and choices and all this mechanical stuff about how visual novels work that I'd never really had to think about for. It was really, really enlightening.  

But I will never do this game structure again. Lemme just say that.  

Drafting aside, I had to also edit all that writing which was its own special layer of hell.  

And then the art. The art has been enjoyable. I really love this game's aesthetic and the character designs. And the characters. I really enjoy them all so much. They are the most adorable crew of nerdy gremlins out there.  

But the art has had is own challenges. I've done about 20 CGs for the game so far and a lot of them are easy enough but the colour slider MC is definitely a bit of a challenge for the CGs. With GS where I recoloured by hand, there were times that I had to slightly tweak Morgan's default colours to look good in CGs. For instance, one of her skin tones looked quite odd next to Magnus, who is very pink. And I had to just slightly tweak that skin tone in his CGs so they looked okay together side by side. It was easy to test that sort of thing before the CG even got into the game.

But I colour Wil in greyscale and I don't see them in colour until I test. And each colour available on the slider is represented by a number. And there are essentially 100 of them. So testing all of those isn't really viable. I do test multiple skin tones from my saves. But in some ways it's more cumbersome to make sure all of that looks good.  

Wil also has 8 hairstyles…in two colours (which are recoloured manually because a couple of the hairstyles just don't really looks as good recoloured automatically (it's my art, not the dynamic colour slider tool).  

It's a lot of work. Hair 5 usually puts my hand out of commission for the rest of the day (so I save it for last. Ha ha). I don't regret it and again, it's something I wanted to to do as an experiment. I knew that 5 hairstyles was probably manageable and 8 was definitely pushing and I was right so no hard lessons really learned there.  It's sometimes valuable experience to push yourself right to that line and really see where the division between "feasible" and "too much" really is. Because then it's no longer hypothetical. You know where the line is.  

A lot of how WSC is set up was me testing if the line was where I thought it was.

Beyond the art, I also got all the other new features set up and experimented with a few things I hadn't been planning on. Many of those features had the core elements set up and coded by wonderful programmer friends and colleagues (Feniks and Windchimes and Jeneara) but I still had to implement all those things in the code to make them function as part of the game.  

Which, for things like the flowcharts - is time consuming. Flowcharts are like that.  

The flowcharts in WSC use a different method than the ones in GS. It's a brand new tool and I'm still learning how to use it but there are also some kinks that rear their heads (not those kind, you guys! The annoying kind that break the game!)  

I think the feature most people are most excited about would be the save screen. It's quite popular. Ha ha.  

With all of that stuff done, I was able to finally….*finally* release the official version of Episode 1 to Patreon and on Itch.  

And I released Episode 2 (minus two CGs that have been delayed by an abrupt move to a new place and me just not having time to draw right now) to Patrons in early access. (and the Itch version should go out mid-January. I hope).

So the point is…that is actually a fair amount of work that has taken place this year. And a lot of challenges that have been met and overcome.

A Faerie's Tale

Another thing I did this year was finish and release A Faerie's Tale as part of Amare Fest and with a team of friends to help out.

AFT is a concept I've had since about 2020 (prior to WSC actually). It was based on a dream I had as was always meant to be a cute little side project. But it kind of fell by the wayside in favour of my larger projects.

Being able to get it released was definitely fun. Jen and I definitely want to go back to it and release Lachan's route though - it was something we didn't have time for previously and it would be nice to get it truly complete.

Thornewood

And while I haven't specifically mentioned it anywhere outside of my server and Patreon...

The truth is...

I've secretly been planning my next project. But not really all that secretly since I have mentioned it a few times.

I've been torn, for a while, on two projects I'd like to tackle. One is called The Crown Wheel and the other is called (tentatively) Thornewood. I still go back and forth over which one I really want to do next. 

Crown Wheel is the one I *really* want to get out there. It's another story that's close to my heart with some ancient characters of mine that I really love and would love to throw out there for other people to enjoy. But…

Thornewood is a bit more solid a project when it comes to planning and plot. Crown Wheel is a little more nebulous in terms of where the story would go. I'm getting side tracked…I'll get into this more in my 2025 plans.

I have not been working on any other project regularly or in any truly significant way. I've really been working on outlines and character profiles more than anything and I typically do it late at night when I can't sleep but can't draw any more because I'm resting for the day and while I just don't want to be working on WSC because I worked on it all day.

I think I have about 13000 words of outline. I did a rough summary of each route and have been trying to expand those and detail them out a little bit more. So technically that is work I've done this year too.

2024 still somehow feels like a weird year for development. I can't articulate why but it definitely was an odd year for sure.

So What are my 2025 Plans?

That's really the big question at this point. What is in store for Steamberry Studio?

First and foremost, the plan is to get When Stars Collide fully released. This isn't as straightforward as it seems though. With the writing complete, I'm focused on the coding and art, but...

Coding expressions is currently a bit tedious because there have been a ton of group scenes in this game so far. This is because it is somewhat of a 'closed set' so when you are not 1x1 with a love interest…you tend to be with a group. This will diminish in upcoming chapters as the plot kicks off more and you also get longer scenes with the love interests. But unfortunately it does come back in the last few chapters.  

But for now I'm looking forward to heading into parts of the game that are more 1x1 or at least smaller groups at a time.  

Additionally the CG situation has been somewhat up in the air for me. I was originally planning to do CGs in every chapter but I wasn't sure if that would a) be sustainable for me and b) make sense.  

I suspected that there would be chapters coming up where there just weren't necessarily any good CG moments. So the "CGs in every chapter" thing was always going to be a bit squishy.   

I know, for instance, that chapter 6 probably won't have any because there aren't any good moments for it to be honest?  

Anyway. I am thinking that I may take a less formulaic approach to CGs and focus on making sure there are CGs in every episode if not every chapter. Maybe chapters 5, 8, 10...and then...Idk. One or two of the ending chapters. 

Even if it's just four of the remaining chapters, that's still 24 more illustrations for the game. Which I feel like is a very reasonable amount considering there are already about 20. 

Another thing I'm really going back and forth on is the nature of episodes moving forward.

Do I want to continue with 2 chapters per episode or do I want to drop to 1 chapter per episode? I battle myself on this all the time. It's such a hard call for me.

One challenge with moving into single chapter episodes is that I just feel the episodes would be less satisfying with only one chapter. Realistically the chapters aren't that small - even the short ones are more than 30,000 words each. That's...half a YA novel.

But, again, *realistically* when we reduce that to a play time, it's not that much.

People consume unvoiced visual novels at a rate of about 250 words per minute. That means 15,000 words per hour.

So 30k is just two hours of content. When you start dividing this up between "main plot" and "LI route content", you start whittling away at how much content *per character* there is. If there are 20,000 words of "LI content" - yeah, that's more than half the chapter. But that gets divided by 6 characters. And that means 13 minutes of playable content *including all the choices* for each character which isn't a lot. And most people are not going to play through every choice option.

Which means people could be getting through the unique content for their favourite character in less than 10 minutes.

By combining chapters, that means we get episodes that are 70,000 words or 90,000 words. It boosts the amount of content per character by a significant amount and that is really what I'm looking at when I consider episode layout. 

I try to think about what is going to make for the most satisfying episode for players. The drawback of 2 chapters per episode is that it's…a lot. It's a lot of expressions. It's a lot of flowchart work.  

It just takes more time.

Regardless of whether it's just 1 chapter at a time or whether it's 2 chapters at a time, I really want to move forward with steady releases and get the game fully released to players in 2025. That is obviously my primary focus going forward.   

The story is finished. It's burning a hole in my laptop. (Not really). But I want to get it released.

Having the story already written but delivering it in smaller bites to players is doing a lot to save my drawing hand from inevitable doom but it's so hard for me mentally. I know the things coming up in future episodes and I'm so keen to release it and see reactions and talk to people about it. And it's just so difficult to not be able to do that as fast as I want.

I'm trying to be patient and I hope all of you are willing to be patient with me.

In other work…

I will likely continue to plan out my next game on the side, though I don't intend to start working on it or writing it until WSC completes. It's too hard to manage two projects like that - at least for me - most of the time.

When it comes to Thornewood (the most likely contender for 'next project'), it is a 'dark fantasy' in that the setting is gritty and grimy fantasy with an underlying darkness in the world. It's not really a dark romance though.

I always view dark fantasy as including settings where the darkness comes from outside the main character interactions. The setting is dark and the stories have danger and darkness....

But dark romance is when the relationships themselves are also dark. And I feel like I don't really write dark romance. I don't write perfect relationships either but I wouldn't describe them as 'dark' by any stretch.

Either way I'm looking forward to working on something more overtly fantasy again.

I've been dabbling in science fiction for a long time now (since 2019 - that's when I started Gilded Shadows!!) and I've been wanting to move back into fantasy settings for a while now.  

Even just working on the profiles and outlines and world building for fantasy projects, it feels like the Fae and the magic are calling me back home. So I'm really eager to wrap up WSC and bury myself in a more fantasy themed setting again.

But I have a long journey to get to that point.

There's a lot to do in 2025 and I still have a lot of stories to tell.

I hope you will all be here with me for the journey.

[pressplay-if]

Sfw alphabet for Kalena and her hubby? We never get no questions for em i wanna knooooooow

ohhh I really like this ask! Now I'll be answering this alphabet for Kalena and Russell as a couple, as opposed to them having a relationship with the reader.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Russell and Kalena are very affectionate with each other. They tell each other "I love you" all the time, hold hands, sit close together. They're still crazy about each other and don't hide it very well, although they're not super wild about it.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Neither Russell nor Kalena have friends outside of the industry. They're both very cutthroat (yes, even kind-seeming, stuttering Russell - you'll see) and are rather unpopular with quite a lot of people due to that. But they're still in contact with some of the people they've managed/produced for, and there's some benevolence there.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

They cuddle all the time, very casually.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

They already have! Technically. It's their version of settled, at least.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Kalena and Russell never once considered leaving each other. They are the perfect storm. Kalena has had partners in the past, and she has dumped them pretty coldly, never having gotten too attached. Russell is very different to her in that regard. He has never broken up with anyone, only ever been broken up with before. He took it in good faith.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Kalena and Russell got married pretty quickly, maybe two of three years after they first met? It felt right.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

With each other? Extremely. Kalena is always very sweet with Russell, she views him as something tender, a creative genius she admires as much as seeks to protect. To Russell, Kalena is like a goddess, a force of nature.

With everyone else? Not at all.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

They do. You can tell the difference between their polite work-hugs, where they quickly touch a person to greet them and offer superficial interest, as opposed to when they embrace one another and melt into the other's arms.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

They told each other pretty quickly.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

They trust each other very much. Russell will get jealous sometimes, very rarely, but when he does, he just needs a little extra affection and assurance. Then he'll be done sulking soon enough.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

They kiss each other... pretty much everywhere. And sometimes they'll greet their musician charges or colleagues with little pecks on the cheeks. You know, the showbiz-greeting.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Sore topic.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

They wake up together, have a quick cup of coffee, and shower together. They'll be discussing work-related matters in the shower.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Russell waits until Kalena has put on her various creams, lotions, hair- and face masks before she climbs into bed with him.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

-

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

By each other? Not easily at all. By everyone else? Very quickly.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

They remember every little thing about each other, but are of course less attentive about others.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

*their relationship; probably the way they met. Russell can't believe he left Kalena waiting until some stupid music video was over before turning around and seeing her for the first time. She still gives him shit for it. They love recounting it.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

-

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

They don't really care very much about that sort of thing.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Oh, you'll see.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Kalena is very concerned with her looks. Maintaining a stately, professional appearance is very important to her. Russell on the other hand doesn't care all that much. He makes sure he's dressed well, but other than that... he thinks he's fine with a quick shower and shave.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

*without each other, yes, absolutely. They complement each other perfectly and have grown accustomed to one another's presence, both in their work and personal life. They would wither, were they deprived of the other's company.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

-

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

-

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

They're not cuddly sleepers, but sometimes they'll wake up holding hands and just be like ":)"

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Calico - Act Three

Choi Y/N is pretty, smart, and funny and she knows it - mostly because she hears it all the time from all the men (read: victims) she dates. She’s about to get a taste of her own medicine. 

You can find the masterlist here. 

Calico has a sequel called LMLY, if you’re interested.

Genre: (a little) fluff, (quite a bit of) angst, smut, college au, heavily inspired by John Tucker Must Die

Pairing: Joshua x female reader (with mentions of Mingyu x female reader, Woozi x female reader, Seokmin x female reader, Jeonghan x female reader)

TW/CW: MDNI!!, contains smut with no protection mentioned (be safe please!!), mentions of alcohol, food, a whole lot of cyber bullying.

Word count: 8.6k

This is a repost of a previous fic I did. It was one of the first fics that I ever posted on here and I wish I had made some different choices aesthetically. The content will be the same, it will just be a little prettier and more readable.

The drive is quiet, mostly because no one knows what to say. It’s never been this quiet for the three of them, not in 22 years. Not even when it was supposed to be. 

Seungcheol and Jeonghan aren’t talking. Two weeks ago, Seungcheol found Jeonghan on campus and just started swinging. Jeonghan ended up with a bloody nose before some of Seungcheol’s teammates nearby could drag Seungcheol off of him. Not as bad as it could have been, but it was a first. They’d never been in a fist fight before, not even as kids on the playground. They ended up in front of the Dean for it too. Thankfully, the Dean let it slide with a warning. 

Seungcheol is also not talking to Y/N, specifically because he hadn’t known she slept with Mingyu the night of their birthday party months ago. He’d thought he had a pretty close relationship with his twin sister, but he feels betrayed that he found some thing like that out on twitter of all places. 

Jeonghan and Y/N are talking, but barely. The tension is overwhelming. No matter how much they emphasize that they haven’t been sleeping together, no one seems to believe them. Without really discussing it, they decide some distance would be good. He’s insistent that he’s still her best friend for life and she’ll never be rid of him, though it doesn’t feel like it from the back seat of her and Seungcheol’s shared car. 

Y/N kind of feels like a ghost. She has for two weeks now. She barely took in anything to do with dead week or finals week. The normal stress of that time of the year doesn’t really register because she feels too numb. It’s kind of a blessing because if she can’t take much in, she doesn’t notice all the laughter and whispers that follow her around campus, at cheer practice, and in the sorority house. 

Just about the only person that gives her any sympathy is Wonwoo when she goes to return the loaner laptop before leaving for the break. He delicately asks how she’s doing and he seems like he really wants to know. His kindness doesn’t feel like something she deserves. She leaves before she cries in front of him again. 

Tonight is the dinner at her father’s house. Jeonghan is always invited and is still coming despite whatever is going on with the three of them. When they got in the car, the only thing they really said to each other is that they didn’t want to involve their parents in this mess. So they had to pretend like everything was fine, if only for one dinner. 

The mansion is cold when the three of them arrive. Their bags are still in the car because they aren’t staying here. Y/N is relieved by that small blessing. She can’t wait to be in her old bedroom in her mom’s small cozy apartment in a matter of hours. 

Nari greets them with a smile that is totally fake. She’s wearing a little black dress and heels under her apron. Y/N guesses she’s taken on the role of housewife since leaving her position as secretary at the company. It sounded like it didn’t look good for her to be married to the boss, preferential treatment and all. 

Nari sends them to the sitting room. It’s cold in there too and not a blanket in sight over the back of the couch or in a bin in the corner. Jeonghan silently takes off his wooly cardigan and hands it to her, ignoring Seungcheol’s glare. He’s been doing that anytime he sees the two of them interact. 

Nari comes out with a tray of drinks, handing them around. Y/N takes a single sip of the drink and puts it down. There’s no grenadine in hers while the boys’ drinks are a light pink because of it. She knows it’s a calculated jab to not give her something everyone else gets but Y/N refuses to give Nari the satisfaction of a reaction. 

“Where’s Appa tonight?” Seungcheol asks politely. Everything is formal with Nari, just as it’s always been with their father too. 

Nari smiles and it’s so sickly sweet that Y/N has to look away. “He called and said he was running late at the office. Should be here anytime. Excuse me, I need to go check the roast. The chef is on vacation.” She says it snidely, like the chef doesn’t deserve a vacation, but the three of them say nothing. Once she’s out of the room, Jeonghan switches drinks with Y/N, taking the non-grenadine one. He, again, pointedly ignores Seungcheol’s glare.

Y/N is still cold at dinner where she picks at her food. Her father has barely glanced at her the whole time. He’s worried about how Seungcheol’s team is going to do this year and how Jeonghan’s applications to the internship at his company’s office near the university have gone. He promises to put in a good word for Jeonghan. 

Reluctantly, her father looks down his nose at Y/N. “And how was your semester?”

“It went well,” Y/N said, feeling a little bit like she was in a job interview. “I got straight As. The sorority and cheer team are doing well too.” She could talk about the fundraisers and volunteer events the sorority did, or how she learned a new stunt for a routine, but she knows by now he doesn’t really care. He’d always looked at her with such disinterest, even as a child.

Her father pretends to look pleased. “Good to hear. We need a Dr. Choi in the family. Can’t let those grades slip.” Y/N just nods in agreement. “By the way, did you get the replacement laptop I sent?” 

“I did. Thank you for sending it so quickly. I apologize that I didn’t send you a message when I got it, but I had a lot to catch up on, what with a broken laptop.” The words burn in her throat. She doesn’t want to thank him. She doesn’t want anything from him. She wants her mom. 

“Of course, but you should really be more careful, Y/N. Don’t be so reckless with your belongings,” he scolds. Y/N doesn’t miss how pleased Nari is with the lecture. Y/N remembers when Nari sent her to boarding school for part of semester in high school. Seungcheol hadn’t been sent away since he was supposed to be a starter on the basketball team. Their mother had to drive to the boarding school and pull her out after Y/N cried on the phone one too many times. Nari didn’t look happy when she showed up on the doorstep with her suitcase again.

“Yes sir,” Y/N answers meekly, if only to avoid anymore conversation. Seungcheol and Jeonghan both clench their jaws across the table. 

After an agonizing couple hours, Seungcheol makes the excuse that they should get going. They still have to drop Jeonghan off and get home to their mother’s apartment across town. 

In the car, neither boys say anything as Y/N cries in the backseat. This dinner was the straw that broke the camel's back. Jeonghan ignores Seungcheol’s looks in the rearview mirror because he refused to sit in the front seat, sliding into the back with her to hold her hand. 

The break flies by only because Y/N wishes it wouldn’t. She’d like to stay in her warm bed in her mom’s warm apartment for the rest of her life. She surprises herself by even considering not going back, but she knows she’d never hear the end of it. After all, she has one semester left. Then she can pick anywhere for medical school, given that she gets accepted. 

Her mother is clearly worried, and Y/N feels so guilty for it. Her mother has been a nurse for over 20 years. She works hard and she works long, weird hours. She always has in order to make it work for the twins. So Y/N tries to slap a smile on her face when she’s out of her room if only to keep her from worrying, particularly when she’s just come home from an overnight shift. 

But it seems it doesn’t matter because her mother still knocks on her door the night before they’re scheduled to drive back to school. Y/N is packing after doing some laundry and she slaps that fake smile on her face when her mother sits cross legged on her bed. “Are you sure you have to go? You could just move back in for good. Just don’t tell your brother,” her mother teases. 

This does bring a little bit of a genuine smile to Y/N’s face. “I would love to, but I’m so close to being done.” 

“I know, baby, and I’m so proud of you.” Her mother stopped and stared for a second. Finally, she sighs. “You know, I had a really bad semester at nursing school. Even had to switch schools because of it.”

Y/N isn’t sure how she knows that the semester was bad because she hadn’t said anything. But there’s no point in denying it. She’s been moping for weeks now. “Really? What happened?”

“Some mean girls,” her mother shrugs. “They’re everywhere, but they were more tolerable at the second school.”

Y/N continues folding clothes if only to keep busy. “What if I’m the mean girl?” 

“What do you mean, baby?” 

It had been weighing on Y/N’s mind. Something about the post a couple weeks before finals had made things painfully obvious to her. She hadn’t realized how it looked to others while she was chasing and looking for the right guy. She didn’t realize how many feelings she’d hurt on that chase. She eventually deleted her twitter account and locked down all of her other socials to avoid finding out how anyone else really felt about her. 

“I think I’ve hurt some feelings with my dating habits. I didn’t mean anything by it… but I did.” 

Her mother is quiet for a moment, before waving her over. There’s something so comforting about curling up into her mother’s side. “I’ll tell you what I think, okay?” Y/N nods into her shoulder. “You have so much love to give. You always have, you and Seungcheol both. And you really want to be with someone to share that. But maybe it’s okay if you keep it to yourself sometimes.” Her mother’s head plops down on top of Y/N’s. “You know, I was always afraid the divorce would affect you two. It’s why I stayed until I just couldn’t anymore. But now I see how you might be chasing after the validation you didn’t see in mine and your father’s relationship. And you don’t need it, okay? Take care of yourself first.”

Y/N is tearful and this is all too serious, so she has to crack a joke. “I think you’re spending too much time covering shifts in the psych ward. You sound like a shrink.”

Y/N’s mother laughs loudly. “Oh, I know. They’re keeping me on that rotation because I’m so good. Come on. Let’s finish packing this and then we’ll make some cookies for you to take with you tomorrow.”

Mingyu is pissed. He has been for days. Specifically, because a couple days before he was due to come back from break, the twitter account mysteriously disappears. So does any trace of it. No one has screenshots and the document they’d drafted of the exposé is gone too. All that’s left is anything they compiled for the final project. 

Seungkwan says he didn’t do anything with the twitter account and Mingyu believes him because his texts sound panicked. As Seungkwan is lamenting over the years he’s spent building up that account, Mingyu develops a theory. When he calls Wonwoo multiple times without receiving an answer, he considers it evidence. 

So when Mingyu arrives back at his apartment, he’s seething. Wonwoo looks totally unfazed where he lays on the couch with a book as Mingyu all but throws down his suitcase. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Wonwoo sounds bored. He doesn’t even look up from his book. 

“The twitter account, you asshole!”

“Oh, that? I hacked it and deleted it.” Wonwoo says this so casually that it almost makes Mingyu’s brain explode. 

“Why would you do that?! You know how hard we worked on that.” Mingyu thinks he might hit Wonwoo. “Months of work and now we have nothing to show for it. And years of work for Seungkwan.”

“That’s too bad,” Wonwoo says without an ounce of sympathy. 

Mingyu is fast approaching the bargaining phase. He plops down on the couch next to Wonwoo. “I thought you said you couldn’t do it anyway. What happened?”

Wonwoo gives him a blank look. “Oh, I’ve spent months on it, but I was finally able to do it over the break. It wasn’t easy, but it was very satisfying to click confirm on that little pop up.”

Mingyu stammers, at a total loss of words. Eventually, he’s pleading. “Why, Wonwoo? That was the basis of our whole project.” 

“And your project is done. I saw the document you guys turned in.” Wonwoo’s voice is turning icy. “What? It wasn’t enough for you to get a little revenge and an A+? Now you want to go back and relive it?”

“Why are you acting like this? You don’t even like her!” Mingyu cried. 

“I like her a hell of a lot more than I like any of you guys right now. I don’t even recognize you anymore, Mingyu.” It’s Wonwoo’s turn to be mad. He slams the book closed, throwing it down on the coffee table. “You tore her apart and then kept that account up to let everyone else keep tearing her apart. Do you feel better now? Does that help you get over the three dates you took her on? Are you seeing how you guys overreacted now?”

“She had it coming,” Mingyu argued but he was losing heat. Wonwoo rarely lectured him like this. 

“You destroyed her. I’ll be surprised if she even comes back,” Wonwoo snapped, standing up to pace. “I asked her if she was okay when she turned in the loaner laptop and she looked like she could cry on the spot. Whatever vengeance you got, I hope you enjoyed it because you don’t get anymore if it touches a computer or phone. I’ll hack every single device you guys have to make sure of it.”

Mingyu has deflated, totally stunned. “Why are you defending her? I don’t understand this at all.”

“I’m defending her because it seems like literally no one else is. I’m sure you know the damage that you’ve caused.” When Mingyu gives him a blank look, Wonwoo snaps again. “Let me refresh your memory. I heard she’s the laughing stock of the sorority and cheer team. She’s deleted her twitter account because there were hundreds of people tagging her in comments. And last I heard Seungcheol and Jeonghan fought.”

Mingyu had heard that. It makes news in the locker room when your captain gets into a fist fight and is sent to the Dean’s office. The coach wasn’t happy. “I can’t help that,” Mingyu insisted. “Besides, that was probably a long time coming. Joshua said Y/N had been sleeping with Jeonghan the whole time.”

“And that’s another thing! They’re both firmly denying that.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes because he can’t help it. “And you believe that? How do you know all of this anyway? Everyone’s been gone for break.”

“You know, I do believe it actually, especially since she didn’t bother denying anything else you guys wrote. And let’s just say some other accounts have been cleaned up as well.” Wonwoo picks up his book. “I’m leaving. I mean it though. You guys are done.”

Wonwoo’s disappointment is clear and leaves Mingyu feeling conflicted. But the thing is, the project’s over and the twitter account is gone. Mingyu decides it’s time to move on. 

Joshua can feel eyes on him, but this time he knows who it is. Minghao has been doing a lot of staring lately. Neither had anywhere to go during the break, but they saw very little of each other. It seems Minghao is upset with him, and Joshua hasn’t asked yet. 

But it’s starting to drive him crazy, because he really wants to enjoy his night off and watch some TV. When he glances at Minghao, his roommate is peering over his laptop. Joshua raises an eyebrow. “What?”

Minghao continues to stare, before finally saying, “Nothing.”

Joshua scoffs. “If you have something to say, just say it. You’ve been like this all break.”

Minghao purses his lips. “Nothing, really. I just thought you were nicer, is all.”

“Nicer? What do you mean?” Joshua prided himself on being polite, a gentleman even. 

“I mean the twitter account.” Joshua must looked surprised, because Minghao rolls his eyes. “Yes, even I have twitter. And even if I didn’t it would have been impossible to miss. I just don’t understand how you got involved in all that. Or why.”

“She deserved it,” Joshua mumbled. He didn’t really have another excuse anymore. He’d deleted the app to keep from looking at it because it was kind of like watching a car crash. 

“I beg to differ.”

Minghao’s statement makes Joshua’s jaw drop as he sits up. “What do you mean? You were the first one to tell me what she was like.”

“Yeah, I get it. Play the player and all. But you and whoever you were working with took it to the extreme,” Minghao said seriously. “I mean, there are some nasty things being written about her.” 

“So?” 

Minghao blinks a few times. “Fine, be that way. Leave me alone, though.” Joshua watched as Minghao slid headphones on and turned away. 

Y/N has never been what you would call a recluse. She liked to be around people, always had, but she finds she can’t when she returns to campus. She hides out in her room at the sorority house most of the time, even avoiding her housemates. Some are mean and others are pitying, but Y/N doesn’t care for either of those things, so she waits until everyone has left or is in bed before she comes out for things like food or laundry. 

She’s taken to spending a lot of time in bed. Not scrolling, not watching TV, not even reading. She’s staring at that same spot on the wall when there’s a knock on her bedroom door. It opens and Seungcheol comes in. They haven’t really talked much outside of the necessities of traveling together so she sits up in bed, surprised. He doesn’t really acknowledge her as he puts the bags he’s carrying down onto her desk. She watches as he unpacks a couple orders of her favorite sushi. When he hands them to her with a pair of chopsticks, her eyes water a bit. 

She doesn’t dig in right away, waiting for him to get his stuff and sit next to her on the bed. He doesn’t crack open his food either. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. 

Y/N shakes her head. “No, I’m sorry. I made such a mess without even realizing it.”

“Maybe a little,” Seungcheol chuckles. “But you’re still my sister and I’m sorry that I didn’t just come talk to you about it. And I’m sorry I haven’t really helped you out any lately. I know you’ve had a hard time with all this.”

Y/N sighs, putting her food to the side. She leans into Seungcheol. “Maybe I deserved it. All the pranks. The twitter account. I didn’t even realize how bad it all looked until I read it along with everyone else.”

She feels Seungcheol shake his head. “No. They don’t understand it.” She doesn’t have to ask what he’s referring to because she knows it’s about their father and the divorce. Seungcheol had once jokingly said the whole thing had given her a complex, but maybe it wasn’t much of a joke. “And anyway, that whole thing with Joshua reeked. I wish I’d pressed you more to end it with him because it’s totally unfair that it was a set up.”

Y/N frowns. She’d tried not to think much of Joshua lately because it would do no good. She hadn’t heard from him and she didn’t expect to, so she hadn’t reached out either. “I should have known it was too good to be true.” 

“Maybe, but it’ll work out with someone someday.” Seungcheol sounds like he means that. After a beat, he asks, “So you and Jeonghan? How long has that been going on?”

“It hasn’t been. We lost our virginity to each other when we were 16. That’s it.”

“That’s it?” Seungcheol sounds surprised. 

“Yeah, I promise. It rarely comes up anymore. I’m not even sure how that rumor got started recently,” Y/N sags into Seungcheol’s side. That was something that hadn’t gone back to normal yet. She was used to seeing Jeonghan all the time, maybe more than she saw her twin, but they didn’t really know how to be around each other lately. 

“Do you wish it would come up? The idea of you and him, I mean?” 

Y/N is surprised by the question, only because she remembers hearing about their fight. “Do you really want to know the answer to that question?” Seungcheol nods. Y/N bites her lip. “Sometimes. I wished it would have back then, but we were so lucky we didn’t ruin our friendship at 16. Not that it matters now, even if I did want it to come up.”

“He misses you too, don’t worry,” Seungcheol says easily. 

“Have you guys made up?” Y/N’s head pops up, relief in her eyes. 

“Yeah, I interrogated him this morning,” Seungcheol smiles and there’s a flash of something mischievous before it clears and he’s serious again. “I told him to come see you but he’s working up the courage. He wishes he could have shielded you from all of this.” Y/N frowns at Seungcheol’s explanation, but he doesn’t let her press him for anything. “And for the record, I’d be okay with it if you two did have something going on. I’d just like to know about it. Don’t keep secrets from me anymore.”

Seungcheol places her food back in her lap and with a tone of finality, he insists, “Eat. That place is expensive.”

Y/N does, feeling a little bit lighter. 

The next day, she decides that she’s not going to wait for Jeonghan to come see her. He’s been her best friend for over 20 years and this is getting fixed today. Seungcheol is out when she knocks on their apartment door. Jeonghan looks like he just woke up but his eyes widen when he sees her. “Surprise,” Y/N sings lamely, holding a bag from their favorite bakery. 

Nevertheless, Jeonghan smiles and lets her in. They sit together on the floor next to the coffee table. As kids, they didn’t care to sit at the table or even on the couch, and it was a habit they still had occasionally if only for nostalgia.

Jeonghan would normally inhale the cake that she’s just given him but he eats slowly today. Y/N picks at her own slice. “I’m sorry you got roped into all of this.” 

He looks at her for a long time and she’s beginning to worry that he’ll kick her out. But eventually he shakes his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong in my book, so there’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“Others would disagree with you,” Y/N says bitterly, putting her cake down on the coffee table and pulling her knees up to her chest. Laying her chin on her knees, she looks at him. She can’t imagine not fixing this with him, but it’s up to her to apologize and it’s up to him to decide if he still wants to be friends. “I don’t even know how that rumor started. It makes you look bad too, since you’ve been dating as well. So I’m still sorry.”

Jeonghan looks so stubborn now. She knows the look well. It’s the same one he gives when someone tells him to do something he doesn’t want to do, like doing chores or homework. “No. I don’t accept your apology because it’s not needed.”

Tears prick Y/N’s eyes. “Let me apologize,” she pleads. “You should be saying ‘I told you so’ anyway. You’ve been telling me for years to be more careful.”

“You’re misunderstanding, Y/N,” Jeonghan lets out in exasperation. “I never told you to be careful because of how it looked. I know your intentions were never bad. And I never imagined anyone would do anything so… cruel in response to it.” He looks back down to his cake, picking some of the frosting off with the fork. “I only told you to be careful because I didn’t like seeing you get let down over and over again. And I’m certain there’s no one who deserves you so it happens all the time.”

Y/N stares at him while he still picks the frosting off his cake. “Do you really feel that way? Not even you?” There’s a tinge of a joke, but she really wonders.

Jeonghan chuckles, some light returning to his eyes. “Not even me, and I’m flawless.” This earns a laugh from Y/N but then things get quiet. “Of course, I feel that way. Whoever you do end up with one day will be really lucky.”

There are so many things Y/N wants to say, but finally, she lands on, “I feel the same about you. I’ve been telling you for years that you’re total husband material.” 

Jeonghan laughs again. “And who made me learn all that? You hold your best friend to high standards,” he teases. “Now, can we go back to normal? I missed you.”

Y/N grinned. “I missed you too, Hannie. But did you really think I was leaving here without things going back to normal? You’ll never be rid of me, I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.” Jeonghan shoves her by the shoulder and she loses balance, laying flat on the floor. 

“Don’t make me kick you out. Now, eat your cake or I will.”

Joshua walks into the hospital with a minute to spare. It’s his first day at his internship and he’s really looking forward to it. He goes to the front desk and finds out where he’s supposed to be - to which the answer is the 3rd floor. This is one of the regular units, specifically not the ER or the ICU. As soon as he steps out of the elevator, he bites back a groan. 

Somehow, he’d forgotten that Y/N would be here. And even if she was, he kind of assumed they’d never have to run into each other because they’re interns in different departments. But sure enough, Y/N is standing there with the charge nurse that Joshua was told to find. 

Both women turn to him as he approaches. “Joshua, right?” The charge nurse, Eunji, asks and when Joshua nods, she smiles. “Good! And both of you are on time too. Joshua, have you met Y/N before?”

Joshua looks at Y/N, who doesn’t so much as glance at him now. Evenly, she says, “Yes, we’ve shared some classes.” Her tone has none of the usual sparkle to it, and he’s not sure if it’s because she’s trying to be professional or if it’s because he’s here standing next to her. 

“Great! Well, unfortunately, I don’t have anything exciting for you guys,” Eunji looks apologetic. “We need to do inventory today, and the tech that would normally do it during this shift is out.” Eunji hands both of them clipboards and pens, before leading them to a supply closet. The bare overhead light is not very bright and most of the corners are still dark. “Sorry it’s so dingy in here… Anyway, it’s pretty straightforward. For each line item, do a count and write it down. Split it however you’d like and if you have any questions I’ll be around.”

With that Eunji closes the door behind her, leaving Y/N and Joshua alone. They haven’t seen each other since that Sunday in her bedroom, outside of a couple classes they shared. Joshua feels awkward when Y/N turns to one of the shelves and starts without another word. He doesn’t know why but the silence kills him for the next hour. He has to recount rolls of gauze and boxes of bandaids a few times before he thinks he got it right. 

He’s in the middle of his third count of boxes of alcohol swabs when he hears a grunt behind him. When he turns, he sees Y/N on her tiptoes, trying to reach the top shelf. Without thinking, he comes up behind her, grabbing the bin that she needs and handing it to her. She barely glances up at him when she mumbles a quick, ‘thanks’, before turning to the table in the corner to count the contents of the bin. 

Joshua doesn’t know why he’s staring. Doesn’t know why he thinks she looks cute in hot pink scrubs and a ponytail. Doesn’t know why he likes how concentrated she looks. It burns him up inside that he wants to talk to her when he couldn’t wait to be rid of her last semester. 

Impulsively, Joshua says, “Are you okay?”

She doesn’t look up from the bin. “Yeah, why do you ask?”

“It’s just, we haven’t talked since…” He trails off when he sees the tension building in her shoulders. 

She looks up at him with confusion all over her face. “Joshua, I don’t mean to sound like a smart ass, but what would there be to talk about? That tweet was pretty clear about where we stood.”

“So? You have nothing to say?” Joshua’s blood starts to boil.

“What is there to say? No one wants to hear it anyway,” Y/N says with a bit of bitterness.

“A lot of people want to hear an apology,” Joshua seethed. “You’ve fucked with a lot of people.”

“Yeah. I know how to read twitter comments, Joshua,” Y/N snapped, throwing things back into the bin haphazardly to turn to him fully. “Are you happy? I don’t even know what I did to you. Other guys, fine. I’m not great to date, I get it now. The comments made it crystal clear. But I did absolutely nothing to you.”

“Absolutely nothing? What about sleeping with your best friend while you were seeing me?” 

Y/N throws her hands over her face in exasperation. “When we were 16! Not once since then. I’m so sick of explaining this.”

Joshua freezes. “What? But I heard you guys talking about it.” He watches realization wash over her face. 

“Oh my god,” she groans into her hands again. “You’re telling me you spread a rumor like that because you eavesdropped on a snippet of a conversation that you had no context for?” Joshua’s silence must be answer enough because she barrels on. “We did what stupid teenagers do and wanted to lose our virginities to someone we trusted. And if you had waited five fucking seconds, you would have heard him say that he was happy things were going well with us.” She laughs, but it’s not right because it sounds a little watery. “I really liked you, Joshua. I don’t know what I did to deserve all this. And I don’t give a fuck about the mean girls on the cheer team or in the sorority, or the gross guys on the basketball team, or anyone else on campus for that matter. But you almost wrecked the two relationships that I’ve had for my entire life.”

“You deserve it because I’ve met girls like you,” Joshua bit. “You just have to smile and you get handed whatever you want. You play with people like toys until you get bored.”

“Well, I didn’t get what I wanted, now did I?” Now she’s crying but she looks furious. “You saw to that, did you? All I wanted was for it to finally feel right with someone, and when it did it was all a trick.”

Joshua scoffs. “Like it’ll take you long to move on.”

Y/N’s chin wobbles in the dim lighting and there’s a pang in Joshua’s chest at the sight. “Oh no. I’ll be swearing off dating from now on. No one will have anymore reasons to fuel their stupid pranks or trap dates or twitter accounts.” Joshua freezes again and Y/N is on a roll now. “You didn’t think I would figure out who was behind all of that? It’s a little too convenient that you’ve been hanging out with just about everyone mentioned in that stupid tweet. Do you guys feel like you’ve gotten your revenge now? I considered dropping out over all of this. Would that have made you guys happy to never see me again?”

Joshua stumbles over his words. He didn’t expect her to piece everything together, and he really didn’t expect that she considered not coming back to finish her degree. She was a good student and seemed so invested in her future. But it doesn’t matter what he has to say because she’s shoving the clipboard into his chest hard as she passes by him. “You finish the rest. I can’t fucking reach it anyway.” 

The door slams behind her and he looks around the supply closet for help understanding what just happened. He feels guilty now in a way he hadn’t throughout this whole experiment. He’d felt that he had no choice but to transfer after the embarrassment that was the end of his relationship with Lily, and now he’d just made someone feel the same way. But she was brave enough to come back while he ran across the world with his tail between his legs.

When he finally snaps back to attention, it takes him way more than three counts to get each line item right. 

Two months have passed and things are looking up for Y/N. She, Seungcheol, and Jeonghan are glued to each other again just like it’s meant to be. What few classes she has to take are going well. And she’s getting used to the way things are with other people around campus. Once she got over the initial shock and subsequent depression at the whole situation, she decided not to acknowledge it anymore. She didn’t entertain the conversation with her sorority sisters or teammates when they asked if she was seeing someone. She was getting really good at shutting out anyone that asked her out, which seemed to be just as frequent as it was before. She used to enjoy the attention, but now she just saw a bunch of red flags. 

Her escape had become her internship. After the first day, Joshua was working in another unit so she didn’t have to see him. As promised when she was offered the internship, she would be shadowing in the ER. It was mostly triaging or assisting the non-critical cases, and she didn't even get to do the fun stuff. Mostly, she would call patients back and gather their history under the supervision of an RN. Then she might escort them to a room when one became available. The exciting days were when she could assist with treatments, but it was mostly handing the doctor or nurse things and holding the patient’s hand while she talked their ear off to distract them. 

Today was a triage shift and it was almost over when the nurse from the front desk gave her a new clip board and walked away. Y/N sees the name on the sheet and smacks her forehead with the clipboard hard. Then, resigned, she goes to the lobby. 

“Lee Seokmin.” 

He hobbles into the triage station with another guy holding him up on one side. She can tell he’s surprised to see her, but she doesn’t react to it. “Have a seat,” she said, pointing. She also drags over two more chairs so he can prop up his foot and his friend can sit down. “I’m Y/N and this is Yunseo.” Yunseo waved from the other side of the computer. “Yunseo is the RN for triage today, but since I’m an intern, she’s letting me take some of your medical history. Injured foot, huh?” She says neutrally. 

“Ankle I think… Y/N, this is my friend Junhui.”

Y/N gives Junhui a polite smile, but she can tell by his reaction to her name that he knows quite a bit about what’s been going on last semester. “What happened?” She asks Seokmin. 

“We were rehearsing and I tripped,” Seokmin sighs. 

“Can I take a look? I have to make sure it isn’t critical. If it is, I need to hand it off to Yunseo right now.” Seokmin doesn’t hesitate to roll up the leg of his jeans. His ankle is swollen and starting to develop a nasty bruise. Y/N hums sympathetically, and Yunseo nods encouragingly to her to continue. This is how Y/N knows she’s right to assume it’s not critical. “I’m sorry, that’s rough.” She backs away from Seokmin. “Well, unfortunately there’s not much to do until a doctor can see you besides icing your ankle and taking information for your records.” When Seokmin nods, Y/N zips out of the room.

She wants to linger at the ice machine for a breather, but today’s charge nurse is in the break room taking lunch. So, Y/N works quickly to get the bag of ice and returns to Seokmin and Junhui. Once the ice is on Seokmin’s ankle, Y/N plops down in front of the computer. It’s both a blessing and a curse that these questionnaires are so long. On one hand, there’s not a lot of time for them to talk about anything else when she’s peppering him with questions one after another. On the other hand, it feels like it takes an eternity to get through it. She tries to focus on the fact that this is good experience with Yunseo over her shoulder pointing out certain things.

Y/N feels like she’s so close to freedom after she’s rolled Seokmin in a wheelchair to an exam room while Yunseo calls the next patient to get started. “Someone will be in to see you shortly, but call if you need anything,” she says professionally. Her hand is on the knob to pull it closed behind her when Seokmin speaks up. 

“Y/N? I’m sorry.” 

She pauses and she can’t help but frown at him. He does look sorry actually, guilt all over his face. Junhui must sense where this is going, so he asks where the vending machine is and excuses himself. Y/N is still standing in the doorway, arms crossed now. “Sorry for what?”

“For the experiment. The pranks. Joshua. The twitter account.”

Y/N blinks at him because she’s not sure what else to do. “Experiment?”

“It all started as a psych experiment - conformity on social media. But it got out of control… and that sounds really stupid when I say it out loud.” Seokmin rubs the back of his neck. 

“Yeah, it does,” Y/N murmured. She looks around the pristine exam room because she can’t really look at him. She’d just started to feel better from all of this, but now she’s learning of a whole other layer to it. Her misery lately is a result of a class assignment made of questionable ethics. She’d really like to forget about all of it. “I guess I owe you an apology too. I didn’t mean anything by cutting things off, and I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that I wanted more.”

“You didn’t,” Seokmin insists and she looks at him in confusion. “I thought maybe you led me on. I was upset at how things had gone with us. That’s the whole reason I agreed to any of this in the first place. But the longer I think about it, you were pretty honest about how you felt. You shouldn’t have to apologize because I got my hopes up.”

“You’re not the only one though. That twitter account kind of makes it seem like it’s a habit of mine.”

“Yeah… that got really out of control. I’m sorry you had to see any of it. But if it makes you feel any better, it was hacked and deleted.” 

Y/N found herself laughing. “Hacked? Who did that?”

Seokmin looks amused. “Let’s just say you have a very talented friend looking out for you. He shut down that dating app because of you too.” Y/N’s eyes widen. 

“Man, you guys were serious about this revenge.” 

She watches Seokmin relax because she’s laughing again and he finally laughs too. “Yeah, like I said. Out of control. I’ve been trying to convince them to apologize. I think Mingyu, Jihoon, and Seungkwan will come around… I’m not sure about Joshua.”

“Seungkwan? Boo Seungkwan?”

Seokmin nods. “He ran the twitter account.”

“Ah,” Y/N sighs. “Well, you might be right about Joshua. He’s interning here too, and that’s going about as well as you would expect.”

“Total avoidance, huh?” When Y/N raises an eyebrow, he shakes his head. “We haven’t seen or heard much from him either.”

Junhui’s hovering outside of the door with a pack of cookies and a loud crunch gives him away. It makes Y/N laugh. “You can come back in. I’m leaving for real this time.” 

A couple hours later, she waves to Seokmin and Junhui as she leaves. It’s kind of a relief to know that someone involved feels a little bad, but she thinks he’s probably wrong. She won’t be getting an apology from any of the others. 

“You want me to do what?” Wonwoo asks. He thinks he’s heard the request wrong and he’s confused. 

“Bring the twitter account back,” Seungkwan requests again. 

Wonwoo sighs and nods. “Ah, that’s what I thought you said. Two questions, are you stupid and do you know what the word ‘deleted’ means?”

Seungkwan is totally unfazed by the insult. “It’s for another project. You can’t restore it?”

Wonwoo can’t help but glance around the table. The whole crew is back together and he was kind of hoping that would never happen again. It had been a disaster last semester. He finally pins Mingyu with a look. “I told you that you guys would not get a technical method to do this again.” 

“It’s not what you think. We probably should have led with that,” Mingyu puts his hands up in defense. 

“Then what is it? I deleted it for a reason. Nothing on there should have seen the light of day, especially near the end,” Wonwoo says impatiently. He wants nothing more than to be rid of these little requests because he doesn’t trust any of them as far as he can throw them. 

“We need the reach to issue an apology,” Jihoon says simply. “We can’t do that with a brand new account.”

“An apology?” Wonwoo’s laugh gets caught in his throat because he never thought he’d hear something like this considering how evil they were last semester. “This should be good. Tell me more.”

“We’ve been talking,” Seokmin started. “We got carried away and we’d like to reel this back in if we can.”

“There’s not a lot of reeling back in you can do,” Wonwoo scoffs. “The damage is done. Now you guys get to feel guilty about it.”

“Yeah, that’s why we’d like to issue an apology,” Mingyu says. “So can you restore it or not?”

“No! The warning message says ‘permanently deleted’ for a reason.” Wonwoo lies through his teeth. He’s not going to tell him he didn’t hit delete. Instead, he’d changed the email attached to the account and hit ‘deactivate’. “Besides, an in-person apology will probably go much farther. If you’re apologizing to the person I think you’re apologizing to, she doesn’t even have a twitter account anymore to see it.” 

“I don’t think she’d want to see us,” Jihoon huffed. “Which is fair, I guess.”

Seokmin shrugs. “I don’t know, she wasn’t mean to me or anything when I was in the ER last week.”

Joshua has been silent the whole time. Wonwoo’s not sure why he’s even here because he might have been the cruelest of them all and hadn’t seemed to regret any of it. Wonwoo stares him down. “Are you part of this apology too?” He watches Joshua hesitate for a moment, then nod. 

Wonwoo purses his lips. “I can’t promise anything. They might really mean ‘permanently deleted’ when they say it.” He lies through his teeth again. He needs some time to think about it before he hands the account back to any of them. He glares at Seungkwan. “But I’ll be doing some major clean up if I can actually restore it.”

Seungkwan nods eagerly. “I would have done it anyway, but have at it. You’ll probably be faster at it anyway.”

“Great. But how do we make sure she sees it?” Mingyu asks. 

Something catches Joshua’s eye and suddenly he’s jumping out of his seat. 

If Joshua had to describe Seungcheol and Jeonghan in one word, he would say overprotective. He got that vibe at the dinner and movie triple date he met them at. He’s definitely getting that vibe now. In fact, he thinks they might leap over the table at any of them. Maybe Joshua first though with the dirty looks he’s getting.

Joshua has to talk fast to get them to agree to even sit down with the group at the table. Jeonghan even sets a timer for five minutes passive aggressively. 

They explain everything, starting from the psych experiment, to the dating app, the pranks,, the twitter account, and Joshua. Seungcheol and Jeonghan look totally unimpressed. Joshua gets that because it all sounds so fucking stupid now that they have to explain it.

“And you think an apology will fix this?” Seungcheol asks coldly. 

“We’d like to try,” Mingyu says weakly. He’s been feeling Seungcheol’s wrath for two months now. He doesn’t want to run anymore laps or do anymore pushups. 

“It better be a damn good one then. You know she almost didn’t come back to school?” Seungcheol snapped. 

“Yeah, we heard that,” Jihoon said, glancing at Joshua. “Look, we would approach her if we thought she would hear us out. But we’ve made a mess of this to everyone else that followed that stupid account and we need to correct this with them too.”

“I thought it got deleted?” Jeonghan asks, eyes narrowed. 

“That’s why he’s here,” Mingyu says, pointing to Wonwoo. Wonwoo waves him off with a simple ‘don’t talk to me’. “He’s going to try to recover the account. The problem is that we’d also like her to see it.”

Jeonghan scoffs, a bitter smile on his face. “Yeah, good luck getting her back on there.” 

“That’s what we’d like your help with actually,” Joshua started. 

Seungcheol and Jeonghan share a look. The timer goes off on Jeonghan’s phone, but they stay anyway. 

It’s Saturday morning and Y/N is busy hosting a sorority house meeting. The president and vice president have been away at a conference and won’t make it back in time to run the meeting themselves, and as the treasurer the duty falls to her. Her phone has been buzzing in her pocket the whole time and she keeps ignoring it. She’s thinking it’s Jeonghan blowing up her phone because he’s bored, something he likes to do when she’s inconveniently busy. She has no problem making him wait for a bit. 

But it’s becoming apparent that something exciting is happening what with the way all of her sorority sisters will not focus on anything she’s saying. It’s starting to get frustrating and when Y/N can’t take it anymore, she bangs the gavel as a call to order. “Okay, what’s going on? I’m trying to run a meeting here.”

A young sophomore named Ara hesitantly stood up, but she was smiling when she handed over her phone. “You might want to read this, Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t have to skim long before she mumbled, “Meeting adjourned. Have a good day, ladies.”

Did you miss us? Yes - us. 

I started this account a little over two years ago and have always enjoyed interacting with all of you. But if you’ve been a follower for a while, you may have noticed a shift in the tone of this account. You won’t find any evidence of that here now, but… if you know, you know.

That’s because this became a team project last semester. I’ll be honest. It was a revenge plot and as we look back on this plot of ours, we’re embarrassed. We all got carried away, some because of hurt feelings and some because of a desire to run a successful account with a thirst for drama.

So, here it goes. We built a dating app, the one that was posted on here a while back. It was used to make a match with someone that had the same kind of vendetta some of us had against Choi Y/N. 

While we waited for this app to be ready, we began pranking Y/N. At first, we thought it was harmless, but things escalated quickly. (Y/N, we still owe you a new laptop.)

When the dating app was ready, Joshua joined us with the goal of giving Y/N what we perceived to be a taste of her own medicine. We were cruel. Particularly near the end of the semester with our little exposé. 

We owe Choi Y/N an apology. A big one that we’ll probably never convince her that we mean honestly. For the pranks. For Joshua. For the way this account was used. For nearly ruining over 20 years of friendship between her and Yoon Jeonghan on a baseless rumor, and damaging the relationship between her and her twin brother, Choi Seungcheol. 

Y/N, if you’re reading this (and we hope you are), we’d like to start making this up to you. Reach out if you’re interested. 

Seungkwan, Mingyu, Jihoon, Seokmin, and Joshua

[anamazingangie]

i thought you ought to know | Rupert x Taggie

Rated M | 6.5k words | Complete! | by  AmazingAngie

Tags: fluff, all comfort no hurt, breeding kink, daddy kink, spanking, married life, older man/younger woman, making your husband a daddy in more ways than one

Summary:

"This is  my  wife, Taggie Campbell-Black.”  She would never tire of hearing that, especially when Rupert said it with so much pride.  It wasn’t uncommon for them to get the response, “My god, I thought she was your daughter!”  But Taggie never tired of that, either, even if she probably should. It was hardly an insult, to be thought related by blood to a man like Rupert.  (Though, being related by marriage almost felt more special, because he had chosen her in a way you couldn’t choose a child.) . or; Rupert takes far better care of her than her actual father ever did, so it's no wonder that Taggie, on occasion, pretends Rupert is more than just her husband. 

Excerpt:

"You’re an angel, darling. All the more so, when I’m such a devil.”  He meant the words in jest, but they didn’t come out that way. He was still too concerned with corrupting her, even if they both enjoyed her corruption a great deal.  “Rupert,” she said, tugging on his tie and forcing him to look at her, “I may be an angel in your eyes, but you are hardly a devil in mine.”  Maybe he expected her to make a joke, but she was quite serious when she said, “You’re my wings,” she said with a smile.  Sometimes, he really did make her feel like she could do anything, maybe even that she could fly.  But he made her so happy, that she had no desire to fly away. 

the snow is snowing and the wind it is blowing

.

They had gotten married in spring, just a handful of weeks after her birthday. It was a small ceremony, in a meadow, with a few dozen guests they could trust not to leak details to the press.

There was no debauchery on that day worth reporting, really, but they wanted it to be private since it was a luxury rarely found in Rupert's life.

Though they had agreed that their love would be public — in part because of their mutual insecurity, but also because of Rupert’s possessiveness, and his inability to keep his hands to himself. 

(Which, to be fair, Taggie also struggled to do.)

.

but I can weather the storm

.

Taggie hadn’t expected a lot of support regarding their nuptials, because Taggie never expected much support for any decision she made. 

A stupid girl could hardly make smart decisions, after all. 

She had been told that often enough to question herself constantly, often looking to those around her for guidance, because her sister and brother were so clever, especially compared to her. 

Of course, their opinion was better and more trustworthy than her own. It had to be.

Or, at the very least, they were more confident in their opinions. 

(Then again, it didn’t take much confidence to be ' more confident' than Agatha O’Hara…at least until she met Rupert Campbell-Black.) 

.

what do I care how much it may storm

.

There were a thousand reasons she shouldn’t trust Rupert, at least on paper. 

Her sister had told her that when she found out about the engagement.

Taggie had laughed because it was probably true, but she simply responded, “Good thing that I can’t read them,” and hung up. 

She had never hung up on her sister before. Or anyone, even. 

She was always polite to a fault.

But for the first time in her life, she didn’t care what her sister thought, because she was confident her sister was wrong. 

Because the only thing Taggie had ever been confident about in her entire life was : 

She loved Rupert Campbell-Black. 

And the only time she hadn’t questioned what she was doing or saying was when he asked her to marry him. 

The answer had been so obvious, and she had been so certain, and so happy. 

(Of course, she said yes.) 

.

i've got my love to keep me warm

.

It didn’t matter that everyone else thought she was setting herself up for heartbreak. 

Maybe she was. Maybe he would grow bored and leave her. Maybe he would become cruel. 

Maybe. 

It was a risk she was willing to take because she had already lived the reality that was life without him and it was agonizing. If their marriage was just a brief reprieve from that, a plaster on her heart that beat only for him, then it was better than nothing. 

“You don’t understand,” she told her siblings, fiddling with the tea towel in her lap to hide her frustration, “He makes me feel like I can do anything. Because if a man like him loves me, then surely anything is possible.” 

She swallowed, looking down at her fingers, “He makes me feel safe. Not the way a security system does, it's more than that. It feels like...nothing can hurt me when I’m with him, not the world, not myself, nothing. When he looks at me, when he holds me, I know everything will be okay.” 

For someone with near-crippling anxiety, there was no sweeter feeling than a safe haven that made all those thoughts ebb away, and nothing had ever given her that sort of relief, except for Rupert.

“He can’t protect you from himself, Taggie. He could hurt you.” Patrick said softly. 

Caitlin was frowning, “Patrick is right, and you talk about him like he is your father, not your fiancé. It freaks me out.” 

Declan, who had been ignoring them from his seat at the table, snorted, snidely commenting that, “He is certainly old enough to be, imagine how I feel.”

Taggie grit her teeth, wanting to scream that this wasn’t about him, or anyone else. It was about her, and maybe he should think about how his sniping made her feel. 

The thought was selfish enough that in the past she might have cried and apologized just for it crossing her mind. 

But a single week of being with Rupert had changed her, and she could practically hear him whispering in her ear, asking ‘How does that feel, darling?’ while his fingers curled inside of her, ‘You’re such a good girl, Taggie, let me make you feel good.’ 

He was the only one who ever cared about how she felt, much less making her feel good about herself. Taggie didn’t associate those things with a father figure at all, she just associated them with Rupert. 

Maybe Caitlin was right and she did talk about Rupert like he was a parent in addition to a partner. But she would never talk about their parents like that. Neither of them had been much of a safe haven to her, in fact, they were often quite the opposite. 

So she just sighed, “Maybe I do.” 

(Maybe she needed a father figure as badly as she needed a husband.) 

.

.

.

“For fucks sake, you look more like her father than her groom,” Bas said with a laugh as he looked over the prints from their wedding. 

Rupert glared, “I’ve heard enough of that from Declan, my father-in-law, thanks.” 

“It isn’t your age that makes me say so,” Bas said, lifting a photo from the reception, in which Rupert’s eyes were narrowed at the cameraman, his hand on Taggie’s waist, while she was turned to speak with Ricky. 

“You look at her like she is an angel, and you look at everyone else as if they want to corrupt her. Or steal her, I suppose, and you have to be constantly on guard to protect her virtue.” 

Rupert snorted, he’d well and truly stripped Taggie of that, both before they married and after.  

He hadn’t even waited for the honeymoon to do it, either. 

He hadn’t even waited until the reception , he thought with a grin. 

Her rosy cheeks, glow of happiness, and ruddy lips had nothing to do with touching up her makeup, even if that was the excuse she gave to slip away after the ceremony. 

“She is an angel,” Rupert said, “And of course people want to steal her. Every man she speaks to falls in love.” 

Bas laughed but didn’t disagree, “Quite like you with women, no?” 

Rupert’s mouth opened, then closed, finally stumbling out the poor come back of, “Some men, too,” which made his friend chuckle. 

“What a match you make, inciting so much lust and love wherever you go that you constantly feel undeserving of each other,” Bas dropped the photo and took a seat across Rupert, “My point still stands, though.” 

He took a long sip of his drink and crossed his legs, “Is that not how a father feels for their daughter? That sort of adoration for a girl is so great that you assume everyone feels it too. The sort that makes you spoil them rotten and leaves you fearful that one day they will grow up and find someone they love more than you.” 

He frowned, thinking about it. His actual daughter, Tabitha, was the complete opposite of Taggie in nearly every way — their shared commonality being him and the fact they were both great beauties.

Though he supposed there were some parallels in how he categorized them in his mind. 

(Perhaps it wasn’t a terrible thing, he had been a much better father to her than he had been a husband to her mother.)

.

The words lingered in his mind the following day as he sat beside his wife in the stands, his arm protectively curled around her waist. 

He watched the way people watched his daughter as she rode through the course, in awe over her talents and good looks, despite being too young to be a prospect in any way. She would be a menace when she got older, though, and started looking back, and he dreaded that day.

But he loved her, too, and he would do anything to protect her. But he didn’t feel this… need to protect her the way he did with Taggie. 

Tabitha, having had him as her father, had no qualms about talking back and speaking up for herself, assuming that her opinion was always the right one, just as he so often did.

She had an awareness of her talents and beauty, and the fact these were perceived by others. She knew her worth and she would curse out anyone who treated her as anything less than what she perceived that worth to be.

But Taggie wasn’t like that. She was talented and beautiful, and completely unaware of it.

Maybe they were both lambs being circled by wolves, but where Tabitha would fight them off with her hooves, Taggie would probably apologize for being so unappetizing, her dying bleat saying how she hoped they found a better meal and didn’t go hungry that day. 

Taggie needed him in a way his actual daughter never had. 

Rupert was used to being wanted, but never needed. There was a stark difference. 

(Maybe he needed someone who needed him, too.) 

.

i cannot remember the worst December

.

The timeline was…suspicious in many people's minds, and rumors of teenage pregnancy and entrapment ran rampant through Rutshire. 

Even The Scorpion speculated as much as they legally could without setting themselves up for a lawsuit, which was something Rupert would have been happy to funnel his riches into. 

The whispers followed Taggie when she went shopping, the leading comments from the cashier asking if she had any, ‘unique cravings’ recently, while holding up the jar of pickled onions. 

Rupert’s response to this was buying her a wardrobe of summer dresses, ones with fitted bodices that showed off her tiny waist — and often a bit of cleavage, too, which he claimed hadn’t occurred to him at all. 

(Rupert would never admit it, but he wished the rumors were true. He would happily trap Taggie in such a way, if she hadn’t chosen to stay on her birth control.)

.

just watch those icicles form

.

“I just want them to know you married me for love,” she had told him and he could understand that even if he didn’t like that. 

To him, it was so obvious he loved her, and he had finally convinced her of that, he had no desire to waste time convincing others, too. 

But he had seen her parents’ disapproving looks and heard the skepticism around town. They didn’t have anything to prove, but it would make Taggie’s life easier if they did. 

“Until then,” Taggie said softly, “We should practice a lot.” 

(Taggie had never scored well on a test, but Rupert gave her high marks when it came to their sex life.)

.

.

.

When the tell-all article came out a month after they married, he was…god, he had never been so angry, so devastated, and so disappointed in himself. 

His dirty laundry had been spread across The Scorpion, spanning eight pages and linking him to dozens of women. It spoke at length about how he had fucked his way through just about every city he stayed in and every party he went to—including ‘the political party’ given that his leg up came from getting his leg over  a ‘woman of great influence’ so now people were speculating he fucked Margaret Thatcher. 

They outlined drug-fueled orgies, the fact he had sex before and after every competition with whatever groom took his fancy, that he celebrated his twenty-first birthday by sticking himself in twenty-one different women, among countless other sordid stories which padded out the pages.

They weren’t really stories, though, because it was all true.

He had proudly recounted the vast majority of it to Beatie Johnson, delighted to share his promiscuous past. 

That had been just a handful of months before he met Taggie, and god, so much had changed between then and now. 

Before the articles came out, he had been delighted by his monogamous future with her, but now he was haunted by his past inability to keep it in his pants. 

Taggie, the fucking angel she was, was surprisingly non-pulsed. 

“I knew you had a past,” she said softly, “It didn’t change the fact I loved you and wanted to marry you. Those actions…and women…they are part of the patchwork quilt of your life, not my favorite parts, but without them, you wouldn’t keep me nearly as warm at night.” 

She pressed kisses to his damp cheeks.

“I don’t love you because I think you’re perfect, Rupert. I love you because you’re you. There is no other man I could love the way I love you, and your past cannot change my feelings in the present.” 

Now it was his turn to kiss her. 

God, he loved her so much and he hoped like fucking hell that was true, and that this angel would stay no matter how devilishly he had behaved in the past. 

He almost wanted to say a prayer, but he chose to worship her instead. 

(There was a difference between being loved and being loved unconditionally. The first was expected from one’s spouse — the other was expected from one’s parents. But both Taggie and Rupert had been denied both …until they met each other.) 

.

what do I care if icicles form

.

His political career was over, though he found it hard to be sad about that, especially when Taggie sweetly reminded him it would give him more time with the horses. 

And, more time in bed with her, too. 

She was optimistic, and truly seemed unbothered by the revelations, not that she had read all of them. She insisted she was only concerned with the man he was now and how he treated her. 

She was the only one who seemed to feel that way, though. 

She sighed at the headline, Campbell Conquest says: ‘he took all my confidence when he left me’ and Rupert reached out to flip it around. 

Then, catching sight of the one below it, Rupert Campbell-Black insists he has moved on from a sordid past, and claims his teenage bride has ‘changed him.’

The wedding photo they used on the cover was sweet, at least. If you ignored the dig at Taggie’s age. She was nineteen for fucks sake. 

Barely nineteen, but still. 

“It’s fine,” she said, tangling her fingers with his when he reached for the magazine rack again, “You have changed,” Taggie said so genuinely he believed it. 

He did, truly, but given his track record and his friendships with men made similar statements while financing a half-dozen mistresses, left him painfully aware of how little the words meant. 

Your words don’t matter nearly as much as your actions , Taggie had told him a dozen times. 

She had taken to telling that to his daughter, too, like she was trying to make them all better.

(Tabitha had taken to responding with, “You would say that, you can’t read!”)

.

i've got my love to keep me warm

.

The pitying looks she got made him feel sick, eyes searching for cracks in the marriage that they were now, more than ever, certain was doomed for failure. 

They would prove them wrong. 

It made him cling to Taggie all the tighter, afraid the sympathy would guide her to a realization that ended with her leaving him . 

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her. It was quite the opposite. He thought so highly of her, that it seemed like just a matter of time until she came to her senses. It wasn’t like she would be lacking options, everyone loved her, truly. 

His possessiveness only worsened the rumors. People thought him controlling or even abusive.

(Only half those bruises were his fault, and Taggie had damn well enjoyed the act that led to them.)

.

so I will weather the storm

.

Taggie was forced to bear the worst of the gossip at the end-of-term recital that Marcus was performing in. Hiding in a bathroom stall during intermission she bit her lip and waited for the trio to leave. 

“Did you see them come in? It’s creepy how he never lets go of her.” 

Taggie loved how he never let go of her. 

She didn’t like parties or strangers and clung to his arm out of anxiety as much as desire. She found it comforting how he returned this grip several times over, fearing she would slip away. 

It made her feel confident he wanted her there as much as she wanted to be there.

And god, the pride in his voice when he introduced her to people. The little smile he saved just for her, almost gloating as he said, “This is my wife, Taggie Campbell-Black.” 

It wasn’t uncommon for them to get the response, “My god, I thought she was your daughter!” usually said in good humor. 

Taggie didn’t mind that either, even if she probably should. It was hardly an insult, to be thought related by blood to a man like Rupert. 

(Though, being related by marriage almost felt more special, because he had chosen her in a way you couldn’t choose a child.)

.

what do I care how much it may storm

.

“He has always been so…dismissive with his partners, and then there is her, who he constantly babysits!” 

“Maybe he misses his children, it would explain the child bride.” 

“Fuck, you are so right. He must see her as a kid rather than a woman. That is why he is so loyal and protective, he probably isn’t even attracted to her.” 

“That makes more sense, I mean, really, she is so meek—I can’t fathom why else he would be with her.” 

“When his daddy era is over I’m going to try my hand again. I miss his cock.” 

Taggie winced, waiting until the women left before leaving the stall. 

She knew they were wrong, but it still hurt. 

She was used to people having doubts, but they were usually directed at Rupert’s past that had recently been dredged up, not her potential failings as a partner. 

She wasn’t a child, she told herself as she returned to her seat, playing with her wedding ring while she waited for Rupert to return.

He smelled like cigarettes and mint, not what she would classify as pleasant out of context, but the scent of him, no matter how smokey or sweaty, was so familiar and comforting that it felt like a warm blanket on a cold day. 

She took deep breaths, determined not to cry. It didn’t matter what Sarah said. It didn’t matter that Helen was glaring at her, along with just about every other woman in the audience. 

They saw her as an inconvenient barrier in the way of seducing the most attractive man in the room. 

God, she just wanted to crawl into his lap, to rest her head on his chest and breathe in the fading scent of cologne on his collar. 

Maybe she was a child.

She bit down on her lip, hard, grateful when the lights dimmed and her tears were hidden. She had forty minutes to compose herself now, she could do that much — even a child was capable of that. 

She was so focused on this task that she startled when Rupert’s fingers tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, which was just a ploy to cup her neck and pull her closer to him. It wasn’t quite a kiss, but it was hardly appropriate, either. 

“How do they expect me to concentrate on anything but you?” Rupert muttered, “A whole fucking orchestra and it doesn’t sound half as pretty as your moans.” 

Her cheeks felt warm, growing hotter when someone loudly hushed them. 

Rupert sighed, letting go of her neck, and settling his hand on her thigh instead. 

Those women were just jealous, she reminded herself, attraction clearly wasn’t an issue in their marriage. 

(He was too fucking attracted to her, that was the issue in their marriage.)

.

off with my overcoat off with my gloves

.

Rupert laughed, “Fuck, she really said that?” 

Taggie nodded, feeling far more at ease after riding him in the backseat of the car, neither of them wanting to wait until they got home. 

Sometimes, she mused, a hard fuck was all one needed to see things clearly again.  

She hoped his driver hadn't seen much, though. God knows how she would ever look him in the eye again if he had.

“My daddy era,” he spat, “That feels like an insult.” 

“It probably was,” she agreed, “But I don’t see it like that — you’re a good dad, you’re good at taking care of me, there isn’t anything shameful about that.” 

Not to her at least, god, she hoped she wasn’t some freak for thinking so.

“It’s a bigger insult to me,” she said with a frown, “That I’m an incompetent little girl.” 

Rupert laughed, tugging on her hair until her head tipped back, “Mm, but there is nothing shameful about that, either. If what you said is true, you’re my little girl, and sometimes you need guidance, as all girls your age do.” 

She shivered, feeling butterflies in her belly along with the familiar arousal that always pooled there when Rupert was present. 

“You like that, don’t you?” He mused, sounding surprised. 

She shook her head a little too quickly, if that wasn’t a giveaway than the blood pooling in her cheeks surely was. 

(It was a good thing that he liked it, too.)

.

who needs an overcoat I'm burning with love

.

It had only been a few months, but Rupert liked to think he could read his wife well enough to know what she liked. 

Sometimes even before she realized what she liked. 

And he guided her towards it, as he supposed fathers did with their children, shepherding them towards their interests and a bright future.

With Taggie, those interests just happened to coincide with sex. 

And as often as they explored those interests, they had never taken on roles, never cried out a name other than what they were called by their typical acquaintances. 

This was different and he had to tread lightly. 

“Don’t lie, Taggie, I’d hate to have to punish my sweet girl.” 

She shivered, “I—I’m not…” 

Her eyes were closed now, unable to even meet his. 

“Are you sure? Or are you just lying again because you want to be punished?” 

She shook her head, but her breathing had changed, and her hips squirmed.

“Maybe you’d like being punished, too.” He mused, carding his fingers through her hair, “That is what fathers do, don’t they? When they care, they make sure there are consequences, so their daughters are well-behaved.” 

Taggie nodded and then, “I— myfatherdidn’t,” spilled out. 

“That’s because you’re so good, he didn’t think he needed to,” he paused, “And you had to be good, to be loved, didn’t you?” 

She nodded.

“You know I’ll love you no matter what, don’t you? Even if you’re bad. Even if you lie. And I love you enough to punish you, too.” 

(When her sister was worried Rupert would hurt her, she probably didn’t mean like this.) 

.

my heart's on fire and the flame grows higher

.

He had such nice hands, Taggie had noticed that on their second meeting, and hated herself because of it, still fancying herself in love with Ralphie. 

Rupert had nice everything, really, though she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge that at the time, either. 

Now she could scarcely stop acknowledging it, even getting aroused on car trips simply from watching his fingers grip the wheel of his Aston Martin. 

His every action and gesture held so much confidence. He never stopped to question himself, and sometimes that was to his detriment, but she thrived in his company. He was such a force of nature that his attitude flowed over his surroundings, over her, and it made her feel brave and confident, too. 

And aroused. 

God, she had never thought herself a wanton person, but Rupert seemed to radiate sex in a way that made him irresistible. Somehow her inhibitions melted away under his touch, and her response was immediate and instinctual in a way that was entirely beyond her control. 

It was terrifying, having her desires be discovered by someone else and trying to process them while feeling so much pleasure. 

But it was refreshing, too, because her body reacted before her brain could, she wasn’t responsible for her reaction, and that made any humiliation ebb away — allowing her to enjoy things she would have been far too embarrassed to ever suggest. 

She never would have suggested this. No matter how nice his fingers were, she had never imagined them there, stroking her in a place that not even she had touched. 

She had certainly never imagined his palm coming down on her bare rear, making her gasp and arch against his grip while she stayed spread over his lap. 

She flinched when his fingers smoothed over the stinging cheek, expecting another slap, dreading it, yet almost disappointed when it didn’t come. 

“How about we do ten, and by the end, we’ll see if you’re willing to tell the truth.” 

Each one hurt more than the last, the ache building and building until her ass throbbed, but it was good, too, he is doing this because he cares. Because he wants me to be honest about my feelings. Because he wants me to be good. Good girls don’t lie. 

The thoughts were jumbled, not fully logical but making perfect sense in the hazy moment where pleasure and pain coincided. 

“Do you like the idea of being my little girl, Taggie? Do you like the idea of me being your daddy, taking care of you like this and as a husband?” 

The word came as easily as it did when he proposed, “ Yes,” she mumbled against the quilt that was still stretched atop the bed. 

“Does my little girl want to be fucked?” He asked, his hand stroking her inner thigh.

“Please,” she begged. 

“By who?” He sounded amused and perfectly composed, a sharp contrast to her desperate words laced with such obvious desire. 

“You — just — you, Rupert, Daddy, please.” 

It should have felt wrong, or cheesy, or embarrassing, but it didn’t. It sounded right, it felt right. 

“There is my good girl, asking so nicely, of course I’ll fuck you.” 

(It felt so good.) 

.

i thought you ought to know my heart's on fire

.

It wasn’t a kink of his — at least it wasn’t before Taggie. 

But he liked it a lot. More than he probably should have. 

She sounded so desperate, so pitiful, so overwhelmed as she writhed beneath him, her voice mere gasps of ‘please’ and ‘more’ so frustrated by him taking his time, showing a rare bit of patience and drawing out her agony and pleasure. 

And his agony and pleasure, too, because fuck knows his cock was so hard it hurt. 

But that would make the orgasm feel all the better. 

“You have to let me take care of you,” he admonished, making her whine. 

He loved her like this, so desperate, looking like that innocent girl he met a year ago, and so very young, yet begging for his cock and her orgasm like she would die if he didn’t give it to her. 

She was so fucking selfless in life, which made her greed for orgasms in bed all the more delightful. 

“Please,” she mumbled, “Need you inside of me.” 

He curled the fingers buried in her cunt and she wailed, “I am inside of you, darling.” 

“Noooo, I–I–need your c-cock, please, I’ll be good, please,” she sniffled, “Don’t be mean, be nice, Dad— please. You said you would!” 

“I did, didn’t I? But I didn’t say when,” he really was being mean, but she was so gorgeous like this. 

“Now,” she pleaded, “Need it now, Daddy, please,” the word came more frequently the further gone she got, like when she was stripped down to this raw state, it was what came to mind first—how she saw him before anything else, not that she had permission to vocalize it. 

He supposed she likely had seen him as such a figure before he became her lover and then husband. He had certainly tried to see her as a daughter for months before acting upon his feelings. 

He may have failed to see her as that — or to see her as only that, rather, because having her as just his daughter wasn’t enough, even if she played the part of one when with his children. 

And played it so well even the waitstaff got confused when they went out for meals. 

He didn’t dislike the idea, not anymore, not when he got to have her as his wife, too. 

(He got to have all of her, she was his .) 

.

the flames, they just leap higher

.

The word slipped out often. Too often. Especially when Tabitha was around. At least then, Taggie could claim it was for the children’s benefit. 

Thank god no one ever questioned her flushed cheeks when she stuttered out that excuse. 

Rupert always gave her a look, though, because he knew, and when the children weren’t looking, he’d pull her into her arms — tell her that she was his favorite, because she was so well-behaved. 

“Tabitha is a fucking nightmare, but you’re a dream, darling.” 

She couldn’t help but laugh, because she knew he adored Tabitha too — and he loved Marcus, too, even if he did a very poor job of showing it — but they were exhausting at the best of times, and according to his words, she was perfect. 

“Best fucking thing that ever happened to me.” 

(She felt exactly the same way about him.)

.

.

.

He was so lucky to have met Taggie. 

He was so lucky to have married Taggie. 

He loved her long before he had any idea how she would be in bed, and he was pretty sure there was no sex bad enough to discourage him from being with her, because she was so good in every other way. 

But fuck, he was grateful she was good at this, too. 

As in, genuinely, the best fuck he’d ever had, and he had a lot of experience. 

Maybe it was because he loved her. 

Maybe it was because she was half his age. 

Maybe it was because she was so responsive. 

Maybe it was because she was so fucking tight. 

Maybe it was because she whimpered the word ‘Daddy’ like a prayer when she came. 

(Maybe it was all of those things and more.)

.

so I will weather the storm

.

He was grumpy the day he turned thirty-nine, feeling very old, all the more so by the nineteen-year-old in bed beside him. 

She had her whole life ahead of her, but he had been too selfish to let her live it without him. 

If there was a god, they would probably never forgive him. But that was alright, his life with Taggie was heavenly, whatever came after, no matter how hellish, didn’t matter. 

She tried to cheer him up, making him breakfast and insisting on delivering it to him while he was in bed — while she was wearing nothing but a cotton apron. 

The following fuck left them sticky, maple syrup being drizzled and licked off of ill-advised places, but the orgasm was worth it. 

“Was that my present?” He asked, and he would be perfectly content if it was. 

Taggie bit her lip and shook her head, “No–I couldn’t think of what to get you, when you have so much, so instead, I got rid of something instead.” 

Maybe his memory was going in his old age, but he didn’t quite understand, and the fact she looked nervous was not helping things. 

“What did you get rid of?” He asked, very slowly.

“My birth control,” she said plainly. 

He froze. 

“Do you mean it?” He asked, not wanting to sound too hopeful. 

She nodded, but looked more nervous now, “You want that, right? I can get them back out—they are just in the tras—” 

He rolled them,  “ Don’t you fucking dare,” he growled, feeling his arousal flare again at the prospect of knocking her up. 

She knew he wanted that more than anything, and had been trying not to pressure her while vying for it since before they even married. 

If someone asked him a year or two ago if he wanted more children, he would have said no. 

But Taggie was such a natural-born caretaker, she would be such a good mother, and he wanted to make her one. 

And, a possessive part of him, wanted to see her pregnant. He wanted everyone to see her pregnant with his child, because she was his wife, and she was so much more than that too. 

“I fucking love you,” he muttered against her lips. 

(Since ‘actions speak louder than words,’ he made love to her, too.)

.

how do I care how much it storms

.

Their first Christmas together felt like a test — both the day of, and the parties that came before and after it. 

It had been six months since Beattie released the dreaded article, and even longer since they married. 

They had survived Rupert’s thirty-ninth birthday, and his…response to her ‘gift’ had given her confidence that he would like this one too. 

Because the truth was, she was already pregnant.

She hadn’t taken a pill in nearly three months but didn’t want to get his hopes up, knowing it could take a while for it to leave her system. 

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she said, when she saw the boxes under the tree. 

He scoffed, “Of course I did.” 

This was it.

“You didn’t, really, you already gave me the best present.” 

His brow rose, and she was impressed by the restraint he showed in not saying, ‘my cock?’ 

“You gave me a baby,” she said softly, hand moving to her stomach. 

He looked stunned. 

And then he smiled. 

“Going to make you a dad for real,” she said softly, then adding, “Again,” since she could never forget Tabitha and Marcus. 

“Can’t fucking wait for it,” he said, pulling her into his lap, “You’ll be the best mother, god, can’t believe my little girl is giving me a baby,” he purred. 

She squirmed, feeling the heat build in her pelvis. 

“I’ll still be your little girl, though, won’t I?” She asked, hating how insecure she sounded. 

The look he gave her was adoring as anything, “Of course you will be, Taggie.” 

And he’d still be her daddy . 

But—

“Will I still be your favorite?” She asked, feeling ashamed for asking but needing reassurance.

“Always,” he promised, “My favorite girl, my favorite wife, my favorite fuck, my favorite person on this fucking earth.” 

(It was not lost on Taggie that he said favorite person, she knew better than to ask where she placed amongst the hounds and horses.)

.

i've got my love

.

People knew right away. They couldn’t tell from how she looked — the red velvet clung to her waist that was tiny as ever, the little bump barely visible even when she was nude — but the way she refused drinks could only mean one thing. 

The congratulations were plentiful, if not particularly genuine. 

He heard the, ‘that poor girl,’ muttered, and got sympathetic, ‘sorry your young wife is going to get fat,’ slaps on the back from other men, both of which he found equally offensive. 

Taggie was glowing, though, she couldn’t stop smiling, even with the stressors of the party and holiday. 

“I got everything I wanted this year, you know,” she told him that night, “I have you and I’m having your baby.” 

(He had her, and he made her happy, and that was all he wanted, too.)

.

to keep me warm

.

“Fatherhood suits him,” Sarah said longingly, her bleary eyes focused on Rupert while she sipped her fifth drink of the evening.

Though Taggie usually appreciated her husband earning such compliments, because he deserved them, Sarah’s attempt to ‘nurse him’ while Taggie fed Matthew in one of the spare bedrooms was not something Taggie would forgive or forget any time soon, even if Rupert had turned her down quite emphatically and publicly. 

“It does,” Taggie agreed, “He is the best daddy,” she said, drawing the word out and leveling a glare in Sarah’s direction, because she hadn't forgotten her words from last year, either.

“He will always be that to me, so try your hand at something else. And keep your tits to yourself, too.” 

Rupert moved towards them, and baby Matthew reached for her, bouncing in his father’s arms while looking delighted to be reunited with his mother, “How is my favorite girl?” He asked, greeting her with a devastating grin and a lengthy kiss.

“Tired. Happy. Hopelessly in love. And horny, too," she told him, when her lips were freed from his. 

He laughed, “So the usual, then.” 

She nodded, “You’ve turned me into a monster.” 

He shook his head, “I think you mean mother, though some are one and the same.” He frowned in the direction of her mother, Maud, who was hanging off some stranger's arm, while Declan looked on with an expression of exasperation heavy on his face. 

“Not you, though,” he reassured her, “You’re an angel, darling. All the more so, when I’m such a devil.” 

He meant the words in jest, but they didn’t come out that way. He was still too concerned with corrupting her, even if they both enjoyed her corruption a great deal. 

He had been especially whiny on his fortieth birthday, going on about how she was ‘wasting her life with an old man’ until Bas called him a, ‘fucking idiot wasting a day moping when he could be fucking his gorgeous wife who is half your fucking age’ which was a bit crass, but something Taggie very much agreed with. 

“Rupert,” she said, tugging on his tie and forcing him to look at her, “I may be an angel in your eyes, but you are hardly a devil in mine.” 

Maybe he expected her to make a joke, but she was quite serious when she said, “You’re my wings,” she said with a smile. 

Sometimes, he really did make her feel like she could do anything, maybe even that she could fly. 

But he made her so happy, that she had no desire to fly away. 

.

i've got my love to keep me warm

.

[bisexualtwinkk]

bff vi!arcane

queer! fem reader x vi from arcane

summary: you and vi are really close best friends, but she doen't know something quit important about you.

a/n: I can't get vi out of my mind.

it's almost impossible to be best friends for more than 5 years and not be close. you and vi went through a lot of fucked up situations together, being there for each other every day, getting to the point of living together after finishing college. some of your and her friends find it kinda suspicious, teasing both of you every time about being in love. everyone could see the way vi looked at you, with glistening eyes, and how you would do everything to make her happy and safe, from cooking her favorite food to take care of her wounds when she fought with random people when you two went out from drinks. but vi and you were oblivious of these things, continuing to believe you acted like a normal pair of best friends.

"I think I need a nap, vi" you yawned, feeling your eyes growing tired.

"my god, cupcake, can you at least cover your big mouth?" vi stood up, grabbing your arm to get you out of the couch.

"big my ass" she looked you up and down, with a smirk on her face, entering your room.

"I mean, it kinda is"

"that's why everyone think that we are a couple, vi! you're such a tease" you laid down under a blanket, moving closer to the wall, "big spoon or little spoon?"

"yeah, right, I'm the one asking about being cuddled or being the one who cuddles, genius" vi moved closer to you, turning around and grabbing your free arm, placing it on her waist, "which, by the way is a stupid question, I prefer being the little spoon, you should know it by now"

a laugh left you lips, getting even closer to vi, your faced buried in her neck, breathing slowly, "right, sorry about that" you squeezed her a little tight.

"does it bother you? the couple stuff, I know some people can feel uncomfortable and shit" her back got stiffer, almost like she was afraid of the answer.

"oh god, no, never"

"okey, I just thought it may be weird for a straight woman, that's all" your eyes got bigger and a loud laugh interrupted the silence of the room. "why are you laughing, you weirdo?"

"You must be joking!" vi turned around, almost being completely under your body, "vi, you really think I'm straight? like, heterosexual?" you whispered, a big smile decorated your face, looking at violet like the just said the most strange thing in the world.

"yeah?" her face showed how confused she was, "you are not? I mean, you didn't say you weren't, how would I know?" her eyes wonder your face, looking confused by how entertained you were by the situation.

"I'm not straight, vi, that's outdated" your finger tapped on her nose, getting on your old position again. "I'm queer, I think, at least, I just know I'm not straight." your fingers played with her shirt, "what about you?"

"haha, you are so funny, cupcake" vi closed her eyes, an involuntary smile forming on her face.

"we can talk about boys latter, if you want"

"oh, yeah, we can do that, pretty"

[minnlahzz]

Alain Relationship Headcanons.

requested.

alain, alain... i hate french people, but ig he gets a pass because his pokemon are sick!! sorry for the delay of this request, procrastination gets the best of me

alain isn’t the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. he’s reserved, almost to a fault (dangerously nonchalant 😔🙏) and it takes time to understand how he shows affection. he’s not one for grand declarations, but his loyalty and quiet care speak volumes. you might not get a lot of words from him, but his actions leave no room for doubt.

alain would never confess first–not because he doesn't care, but because he's too cautious. (also because he doesn't know how he would talk to you about this, considering he's still young and doesn't want to look like a fool infront of you) you guys have a great friendship already, why ruin it with all that mushy stuff? even if it's obvious you like him back, he's not quick to make assumptions and sees this as your 'friendly gestures,' which definitely killed you as he ignored all your signs BLINDLY. so realistically you would have to confess first.

when you confess to him, he just zones out trying to process what you said. almost like he didn't believe that you liked him back. It would go something along the lines of this.

you weren't planning on confessing, and especially not today. it just slipped out of your mouth while you guys were hanging out. “i think i’m in love with you,”

alain blinked, turning to look at you like you’d just spoken gibberish. “what did you just say to me?” he heard it loud and clear, he just didn't understand why you said that.

“nothing!”

“...you’re terrible at lying.” (he likes you back)

for him, actions speak louder than words. that's why his love language is 100% acts of service. he’s not great at expressing his feelings, but he’ll go out of his way to do it for you. need help with something? already done. forgot your umbrella? he’s there with one even before it started getting cloudy.

alain is okay with pda, as long as its not excessive or like frequent. holding hands? sure, why not. hugs? yup! kiss? sure, but only on the cheek.

he’s very observant and notices things about you that even you might overlook. if you’re stressed or upset, he’ll pick up on it right away, even if you’re trying to hide it.

alain can be quite protective, but not the point of being overbearing. he trusts that you can handle yourself, but if ever someone tries to mess with you, they're going to face alains charizard!!

arguments with him are rare, but when they happen, they’re intense. he’s not the type to yell or lose his temper, but his stubbornness can make things drag out longer than they need to. he hates conflict, so he’ll sometimes shut down instead of addressing the issue right away. it’s frustrating, but once he’s had time to think, he’ll come back to make up.

dates with alain aren’t traditional, and honestly, they might not even feel like dates at first. like a walk through the streets of lumiose city or spending time at a Pokémon Center while Charizard gets checked up. it’s less about the activity and more about being with you in a way that feels natural to him. he tries his best though!!

he's not that romantic let me make that clear, but his silliness is somehow charming in a way. he does hilarious things without noticing, and he'd just stare at you confused on what you're laughing about. he's the type of guy who would give you flowers randomly and then say "it was on sale..."

one time, you walked in on him mid-rant about how the weather was today, and charizard was just sitting there nodding like it understood. when he noticed you, he got all defensive: “what? it’s not weird.” yeah, okay, whatever you say alain...

rating time!! 8/10 he's actually really fun to be around despite his cold demeanor and nonchalant dread head energy, he's dependable and genuinely cares for your well being, but his communication skills are through the floor because its almost non–existent! goodluck showing him to your parents...

[my-current-obsession]

every time i see bakudeku compared to k/ance (now specifically in terms of them getting shafted in the ending and/or accused of queerbaiting) i take psychic damage