#they’re sitting in a vague park in this. don’t think about it too much

[soupthatwasreheated]

Did u guys know. what the girlfriends

I think they deserve to be happy post-canon <3

[leighsartworks216]

Pumpkin Patch

Sylus x gn!Reader

Inspired by my going to a pumpkin patch and carving pumpkins today and yesterday. I am soooo sore, BUT I made a kitty pumpkin and it's so fuckin cuteee

Warnings: pumpkin carving, fluff, cuddling, Halloween, sleepy Sylus, soft Sylus, established relationship

Word Count: 2,172

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Sylus normally doesn’t get up during the day. Usually, on any other day, he’d sleep all the way through from dawn until dusk. If he woke up at all, he’d use that time to check up on you, diurnal creature that you are.

This is “late” for him. It’s mid-morning, the sun is closer to its peak than the horizon, and you’re bouncing around like a 3-year-old that just raided a candy store.

You’d insisted on going to a pumpkin patch. The issue with that is the hours they’re usually open. As he turns into the lot, parking his nice (very expensive) car on the grass, watching you already starting to unbuckle your seatbelt, he thinks ruining his sleep schedule just a bit is worth it.

You hold his hand like a tether as you practically skip all the way down the driveway. At the end, on the left, is a big red barn, side doors open wide to welcome guests into a small shop. Cider, candles, donuts and more sit along wooden shelves, waiting to be bought. But to the right…

“Sy, look at them all!” You gape at the array of bright orange gourds in front of you. Big, medium, small - even a couple huge ones that he could sit inside of if they were hollowed. You suddenly look at him, a bright smile tearing at your face and stars dancing in your eyes. “I never asked! Have you ever carved a pumpkin before?”

It’s a miracle you’re not letting him go to run ahead into the field. Other couples trail along, searching for that one perfect pumpkin. A small family is taking photos of their dressed-up child among the hay bales. One person is looking at the huge ones with the eye of a sculpture artist.

He shakes his head, his own smile accompanying yours. “No. I don’t think we have anything like it in the N109 Zone.”

“Really? Do you have Halloween?”

He chuckles. “It would be a funny place if we started handing out free candy for one night of the year.” He tilted his head and raised a brow at you. “Besides, do you really want kids running around unsupervised?”

You huff, face wrinkling into a cute grimace. “Most kids who trick-or-treat aren’t unsupervised,” you retort. Your face softens as you reach the edge of the field. “But I guess you’re right. Oh!” You tug on his arm excitedly. “You should spend Halloween with me! We can watch scary movies and dress up and give out candy to the kids!”

A warmth seeps into his chest. You’d never allowed him to visit your apartment in Linkon City. You were always so scared of someone recognizing him, of being caught in this little game. To offer so freely now, and with this much enthusiasm, how can he refuse?

“Alright,” he agrees. “I’ll spend the holiday with you. Now pick out your pumpkin.”

“You gotta pick one out, too!”

“I will, sweetie.”

You let go of his hand to weave and wind your way through the patch. Pumpkins of all shapes surround him as he follows, scanning each gourd with a discerning eye. He vaguely understood the concept; pick a pumpkin, carve a face or design into it, and leave it out on the front step with lights inside. It was strange, to be sure. He couldn’t, as of yet, understand the appeal.

When he looks around at the people, they’re just like you: bouncing around, grinning from ear to ear just thinking about what they’ll carve. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think there was some reward or prize involved. But there wasn’t. As far as indulgences go, it’s one he can’t fully grasp yet.

You gasp as you run ahead toward a pumpkin. It was bright orange with shallow grooves, almost perfectly round, and with a stem twisting out of the top. You pick it up, turning it this way and that. “Look how perfect this one is, Sy! What do you think?” You turn to him, holding it for him to see.

“It’s a bit big for you, don’t you think, kitten?” he teases.

“Hush, I think it’s the perfect size for my design.” You swat at his chest, but he doesn’t even flinch at the contact. Instead, he holds out his arm so he can carry it for you. While it’s not the heaviest pumpkin in the patch, you do struggle with the heft. He doesn’t struggle at all as he cradles it in one arm.

“What are you going to carve into it?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” You smile mischievously up at him.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “I look forward to it.” He turns his attention back to the array before him. You hold his free hand as he continues his search.

It’s minutes later when his eyes catch sight of a smaller pumpkin. It’s gumdrop shaped, with a shorter stem. He isn’t sure what draws him to it, but he points it out to you and you pick it up.

“Awe, it’s so cute! I thought you’d go for one of the big ones for sure.” You spin it by its small stem to look at all its sides. The grooves are mostly shallow, with some running deeper than others. It’s also not perfectly orange like yours is. It’s instead more yellow toward the top.

“I should start small for my first pumpkin, no? I’m not an expert like you yet.”

You laugh, tucking the light-weight pumpkin into your own arm to carry as he leads you back towards the barn. “Maybe one day you’ll be as good as I, the Pumpkin Carving Master. I’ve had years of experience - you gotta lot of catching up to do.”

“You sound confident,” he says. “Maybe you’d like to put a little wager on whose pumpkin turns out better?”

“And who would be judging this competition?”

“Luke and Kieran, of course.”

“Ha! They’d give it to you in a heartbeat.”

“Do you know any other impartial judges?”

You think for a minute. All of your friends are hunters, and they’d probably feel bad choosing someone else’s work over yours, friendly competition or not. You shake your head. “Not anybody that wouldn’t turn you in.” You nudge him with your elbow. “We can always hold the competition next year. Oh! We can do us versus the twins! And then have the quote-unquote ‘impartial’ chef decide the winners.”

He chuckles warmly. “I like the way you think, kitten.”

“I know,” you chime back, grinning wickedly at your own devious little plan.

-

Sylus drives you back to the N109 Zone. It’s too risky to go back to your apartment right now, what with all the hunters that live there. It’ll be safer when it’s dark, perfect for Halloween night.

He helps you cover the coffee table in the living room with plastic trash bags to catch the guts and bits of pumpkin that will undoubtedly end up on the floor and couch anyway. You open up the cases of carving tools you got from the barn, setting out two scoops and a series of serrated knives for you both. He sets out a few toothpicks, telling you not to worry about them as he smirks all too knowingly. A familiar Halloween favorite plays on the large TV as you get started.

You show him how to cut open the pumpkin and gut it. He grimaces at the slippery, squishy innards as he pulls them out, causing you to laugh.

With a sharpie, you draw out the design you want to carve. You may or may not have found a reference for it online, while he seems to have gone in completely blind. You’re curious to know just what he’s making, but you hold back. It’ll be more fun to show them to each other after the fact.

Very few words are exchanged the longer you work. The movie fills up most of the quiet. Sometimes, you both make little jokes or commentary, but you become quite content to just sit in the moment with him. You can also understand that he’s not used to being awake at this hour. He might be too tired to keep up a conversation, so you don’t push.

“Sylus, what do you-” You quickly cut yourself off when you turn to see him.

He’s sitting with his arms crossed over his chest, resting deep in the couch cushions, head tilted back so his face is to the ceiling. His chest rises and falls slowly, quiet breaths you’d completely missed over the sound of the movie. You reach over and carefully turn it down a few ticks.

When you set the remote down, however, you notice his pumpkin sitting on the table. It seems finished, as far as you can tell. Unable to wait any longer for the reveal, you turn his pumpkin to face you.

Slanted triangle eyes with an upside down triangle nose, and a wide mouth with two little fangs. The triangles from the eyes have been repurposed with the help of the toothpicks to form ears at the top of the pumpkin. He’d even carefully cut away the orange outer layer of the pumpkin to accentuate the fangs. It was a cute little kitty. You can’t fight the smile that lights up your face as you take in Sylus’s first ever jack o'lantern.

“You’re making the same expression.”

You gasp and turn to see Sylus, no longer with his head leaned back, and with a sleep-softened smirk. You’d been so caught up in his pumpkin that you didn’t realize when he’d woken up. His red eyes shift from you to your own pumpkin. He chuckles.

“Is that me?”

Your own jack o’lantern was a classic: sharp eyes and a jagged smile full of pointed teeth. You laugh. “No, it’s not you.” You turn both of the pumpkin faces to look at you both, before leaning back into the couch next to him. His arm automatically wraps around your shoulder, pulling you in closer. “I don’t see you like that anymore.”

He hums noncommittally. How you two met remains an unspoken stain on your unusual relationship. He was scary and intense, so damn determined for you to Resonate with him that he hadn’t cared about anything else. He’s spent every day since making it up to you.

“Is that me?” you ask, pointing to his cat carving, steering you both away from that time.

He nods. “Of course it is, kitten. That’s the face you make when you’ve come up with a mischievous scheme. The resemblance is uncanny.”

You chuckle. “We can set them out later. But right now…” You pull away from his side, drawing a disappointed sigh from the man. He watches as you slide down to the other armrest, leaning your back against it and making sure the TV remote is within reach. You pat your chest. “C’mon, it’s past your bedtime.”

He huffs a soft laugh. “I wonder whose fault that is,” he teases. Still, he’s all too happy to accept your offer, stretching himself out like a sleepy cat until his body covers yours, his head resting on your chest. His arms slide between your body and the couch until they’re wrapped securely around you. You pull the blanket off the back of the couch - one of your own additions after coming and going so often - and drape it over the both of you.

“Comfy?” You comb your fingers gently through his hair. It’s always softer than you expect, gliding through your fingers easily as you scratch along his scalp.

He groans against your shirt. “It’s perfect, kitten,” he murmurs. His eyes are already shut. He’s certain now that they won’t open again until midnight. With his ear so close to your chest, he can hear your heart beating clearer than ever, mixing with the movie in the background to create a lullaby that eases all the pent up tension in his muscles. “This was fun,” he admits, voice so quiet you almost don’t hear him. “I look forward to the competition next year.”

Your fingers scrape along the nape of his neck, sending chills down his body. You grin at the power you hold. The way he so naturally responds to your touch is addicting, a power you will find a way to abuse when he wakes up. But for now, you use your newfound skills to massage the strain in his neck away and play with his hair. “I think yours won this time,” you comment.

He grins. “What do I win?”

You pretend to think. “A kiss.”

He chuckles, a darker twinge of possessiveness staining the sound. “Be careful when offering yourself up as a reward, kitten. You don’t know just how much I’ll collect.”

“Well, you can collect when you wake up. Deal?”

He squeezes you a smidge tighter in his embrace, pressing his face into your neck as he lets out a long sigh. “Deal.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44

[sunlightmurdock]

thinking about mechanic bradley and goody-two-shoes reader fooling around behind the backs of her rich upper class family & him accidentally knocking her up

sksksks bc I’m so picturing enemies to lovers for them, like maybe the office she’s interning at is next door to his shop and he’s always playing his music too loud for her to work and hitting her with vaguely naughty, witty remarks when she comes to scold him about it

Really, he loves her bossy attitude and is just dying to get his hands on her

One Friday night she has been ditched at the office with mountains of work to do and he’s working into the night, blasting the music over the shop speakers with little respect for the neighbours. So, in her classy office heels, she stomps over there to give him a piece of her mind and as you could have imagined — it doesn’t exactly go that way

Instead, she winds up being manhandled onto workbench, tools, pencils and parts flying to the ground, her hands tangled into his messy curls as he sucks feverishly along her neck. Her neatly ironed blouse torn open and her skirt bunched around her middle, her heels digging into the small of his back as he fucks her wildly.

Then, he fixes the button on her blouse with a safety pin and drives her politely back to her parents’ house. It’s far too late for her to walk by the time they’re done. Of course, she makes him park down the street though — she can’t be seen with a guy like him.

After that, he becomes her regular stress relief. You can usually find her in his bed in the apartment above the shop on her lunch breaks, ranting to him about those asshole bigwigs who never take her seriously as he kisses along her body.

Her parents don’t even notice when the lunch portions that she packs every day double in size, to be shared with Bradley once they’ve worked up an appetite. He’s no stranger to vegetables, despite his otherwise messy lifestyle — but he regularly wrinkles his nose at the weird, fancy lunches she brings him.

And now that she’s not walking home from work, she has an extra hour to kill before her parents expect her back — an hour that is often spent making out with Bradley in his truck.

They’re having so much fun that sometimes, they forget to be careful. It’s only once Bradley coolly asks her what kind of birth control she uses as he’s tugging up his jeans, that a cold feeling strikes her.

“… What do you mean?”

“I mean we’ve been fucking like rabbits for four months straight and you haven’t gotten your period. Do you take the pill for the full month or something?” He asks, grabbing his shirt from the bedroom floor and tugging it over his head while she sits, still naked, in his bed.

He takes the dumbfounded look on her face for her being surprised at his knowledge and just chuckles, “Not my first rodeo, honey. What, it’s not the pill? IUD?”

She just squeaks softly and buries her face in her hands, bursting into tears, making his face fall in realisation.

[skelavender]

“Still, my mom is going to imply…” “I know. It’s not serious. I mean, it’s not like we’re married or anything.” Scully chuckles and pushes up onto her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Now that’s not going to help dissuade the rumors, Agent Scully.” He teases. “At this point, I don’t think there’s any hope.” OR After a year of platonic marriage, things start to change.

read chapter one of you are in love on ao3, or below the cut!

One look, dark room

Meant just for you

Time moved too fast

You play it back

Buttons on a coat

Light-hearted joke

No proof, not much

But you saw enough

***

November 1996

There are flowers on Mulder’s desk. 

A bouquet of… well, Mulder’s not great with flowers, but they’re all purple. There’s lavender, he knows that, and what he’s guessing are violets and irises. The last he can’t recognize, but it looks like a purple daisy. Maybe it is just a purple daisy? He didn’t know they made those. 

As he steps further into the office, he notices Scully behind the desk. She had been gone when he woke up, which was unusual for them, but had left a note on the coffee maker saying she had some errands to run before work and she would meet him there. It was folded and in his pocket. 

“Good morning,” she greets.

“Hey. Who sent you flowers?”

Scully raises one eyebrow and a small smirk graces her face, a challenge. “Check the card.”

He looks at her with curiosity and approaches the desk. He plucks the card out of the little fork, and when he unfolds it, he blinks dumbly a couple times.

Happy anniversary, sweetheart. 

Oh.

It wasn’t as though he’d forgotten. Of course not, not in a million years. Her gift is waiting at home, on top of the bookshelf in their home office where she could neither see nor reach. That was part of why he’d been disappointed when he woke up to a cold bed. He had wanted to give it to her before work, but she left before he got the chance. He had ordered personalized stationery for her, paper being the traditional gift for a first wedding anniversary, from a store down in Rosslyn. They have Special Agent Dana Scully, M.D. letterpressed across the top in green, with a notepad to match. 

“I don’t think anybody has ever gotten me flowers before.” He notes with a dreamy tone to his voice. Scully has impressed him.

Her satisfied expression softens. “I’m glad I could be the first.”

“Thank you, Scully. I love them.”

“You’re welcome.”

“God,” he laughs and ducks his head. “I can’t believe it’s been a year. It’s flown by.”

“It has, hasn’t it.”

“It seems like just last month we were averaging a hospital visit every two weeks.”

Scully snorts, “Not that we’re that far off.” 

Mulder chuckles, and rounds the desk to peck her cheek. “I didn’t forget, by the way. Your gift is at home. I’ll give it to you this evening.”

“I didn’t think you had.” She mirrors the small kiss and Mudler retreats to the chair Scully usually sits in. If she wants the desk today, she can sure as hell have it. 

***

Scully pulls up outside her mother’s house and parks the car. She’s unbuckling her seatbelt when his hand shoots out and stops her. Her eyes shoot up to meet his, one brow raised.

He’s been thinking about it since Maggie called him to extend the invitation to the dinner. When they were first discussing getting married, Scully was concerned about her mother finding out. She had mentioned to him that she didn’t think her mother would keep the secret, but he suspected that she was afraid she wouldn’t approve of what was essentially a sham union. 

But Mulder wears his ring, and people tend to be curious.

Most of the time he can get away with vague answers that aren’t really lies, but he knows Mrs. Scully would grill him about it. He can only answer so many questions by talking about Scully without really talking about Scully before her mother notices. 

“Your mom still doesn’t know, right?”

Scully knows what he’s talking about immediately. “No. Only that we’re living together.”

He slips his ring off his finger and holds it out to her, “Will you hold onto this for me?” Her mouth forms a little O. “She’ll have questions. There are only so many ways I can skirt them.”

“Of course,” she says. Her hands trace the neckline of her cardigan. He’s about to ask what she’s doing as he’s still holding the ring out to her in a flat palm, until the gold chain pops out and she undoes the clasp.

It would be so easy to forget about it. That she also wears the ring. That their union isn’t one-sided. That she’s as intertwined with him as he is with her. She wears it openly at home, sometimes, but the necklace remains hidden when they’re out and about. Despite that, Mulder, with a possessive streak that he tries to damp down, remembers. The image of her ring laid against her chest, or the fleeting vision of it on her finger for a couple days in the hospital, is settled into its own corner of his mind. He thinks of it more often than he’d like to admit. 

Scully plucks the ring from Mulder’s hand and slides it onto the chain. It clinks into place next to hers. Two hearts, strung together. 

“Thank you for mentioning that, I hadn’t considered it,“ The thought of hiding you hadn’t crossed my mind, she doesn’t say. She tucks the necklace back into her shirt and goes to unbuckle her seatbelt again. “You ready?” 

Mulder nods, and they approach the Scully residence. 

“She does think that we’re dating, you know.” Scully says as they walk up the pathway side by side.

“Really?”

“I tried to explain we’re living together because of the convenience, but she was not convinced.”

Mulder’s hand goes to the small of Scully’s back as she does up the couple steps onto the porch. “I’m not surprised. She always seemed to think we were…”

“I know. But now she’s pretty damn sure of it.”

“You did your best.”

Scully wonders how different things would be if they were… romantically entangled. Would he have fought her mother’s Thanksgiving invitation so hard? Would his hand be in hers, or around her shoulders, instead of on her back? Would he drop a kiss onto her lips on her mother’s front porch before facing the crowd inside?

She steps back and her eyes crawl up and down Mulder’s form. One of the buttons on his shirt doesn’t match, she notices. The cleaner would have attached a closer match, so he must have done it himself. 

Who had taught him to sew a button? It’s not a skill she would expect him to have. She can’t exactly picture his mother sitting him down to teach him. Every time Scully thinks she finally knows Mulder, finally understands him, something new surfaces that makes her rethink him. 

Scully sucks in a breath and refocuses. “Still, she’s going to imply…”

“I know. It’s not serious. I mean, it’s not like we’re married or anything.”

Scully chuckles and pushes up onto her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Now that’s not going to help dissuade the rumors, Agent Scully.” He teases.

“At this point, I don’t think there’s any hope.” She rings the bell.

“Dana! Fox! Oh, it’s so good to see you both.” Maggie swings the door open and greets them with her usual warm, excited smile. She takes each of them in for a hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mom.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mrs Scully.”

Maggie slaps his arm playfully. “You call me Maggie, Fox, how many times do I have to tell you.”

“Alright Maggie.” Mulder smiles at his shoes. Mulder fucking loves Maggie Scully. She offers affection so freely, in a way Mulder isn’t used to experiencing, especially not in a familial manner. He wasn’t raised with this, with hugs hello and being allowed to call friends’ parents by their first names. It’s foreign to him. She’s been trying to get him to call her Maggie since she started feeding him while Scully was gone, but it had never stuck. 

“Bill and Charlie are in the living room, why don’t you two go sit with them while I check on the bird?“ Maggie offers.

“Tara and Marcel couldn’t make it?”

“No, Tara decided to go to her parents last minute, and Marcel is, well, Polish, so he didn’t want to come back over with Charlie for an American holiday.” Maggie winks at her daughter. “You’re the only one who brought a partner this year, Dana.”

“Mom, that’s not—“ Scully sighs and runs a hand over her forehead in exasperation before deciding to just drop it. “I’m surprised Charlie was able to get the time off, he usually isn’t.”

“I’m not teaching this semester,” a new voice explains, Mulder turns around to face a burly looking redhead. “I’m focusing on research and writing. Makes it a bit easier to get away for American holidays.” He turns to Mulder and offers a hand, which the agent takes. “You must be the Agent Mulder I keep hearing about in Dana’s emails. Charlie Scully.”

“That would be me. It’s good to meet you.”

“Dana says you just go by Mulder?”

“With a first name like mine, you’d go by anything else.”

Charlie laughs, “So tell me, Mulder, has Dana ever told you about what happened at her senior prom?”

“No, she has not.” Mulder replies, tone keen and interested. He turns to his partner, “Scully, am I about to unlock embarrassing childhood stories?”

“Charlie, you promised you would never tell anyone!”

Charlie taps his fingers together conspiratorially, and begins regaling Mulder with the story as they enter the living room. 

Upon introduction to Bill, Mulder understands why Scully had laughed so hard at a joke he once made about the two of them having an affair. Bill hides his contempt for Mulder poorly, with a pinched smile as they shake hands and the occasional glare. When Maggie calls them into the dining room to gather for the meal, Mulder sticks to his Scully’s side and Bill settles himself on the other end of the table, at the head. 

“Mom, that was delicious,” Scully says as she pushes her chair back. She then turns to Mulder, “Should we get on the dishes?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, Dana.” Maggie protests, rising from her seat.

“You cooked us an amazing meal, Mrs. Scully, please let us clean up.” Mulder places a hand on her shoulder to encourage her to stay in her seat and converse with her sons, and he and Scully retreat to the kitchen with piles of dishes in hand.

“You wash, I dry and put away?” Scully offers, and Mulder nods. 

“Thank you for inviting me,” he says after a few moments of quiet washing. “I was afraid it would be awkward. I mean, Bill doesn’t seem to like me very much, but Charlie seems nice.”

“I can’t believe he told you about Marcus.” Scully laughs, “That story is so embarrassing.”

“I’m just glad to have finally earned your embarrassing childhood stories. It’s like I’ve reached the next level of friendship.”

Scully snorts. “Right, Mulder. Step one is they bail you out of jail, step two is they shoot you, three is get married, four is buy a home together, and five is learn about their senior prom. That’s the natural order of things.”

Maggie watches from the other room as Mulder tilts his head back to let out a full belly laugh. Dana elbows him, and he deposits a smear of suds onto her nose in response. As she observes the ensuing playful water fight, Maggie can’t help but hope they soon see what she does, what she’s sure Charlie has picked up on as well, what Bill might still be unaccepting of. There’s so much affection between the two of them. Dana looks up at Fox with a look that she’s never seen on her daughter’s face before, one filled with raw affection. Maggie can tell that whatever they have, it’s coming to a head. Something is there. Everything is there, glowing between them.

Plus, Fox has a thin strip of paler skin on his fourth finger of his left hand, right where a wedding ring would lie. 

next chapter ->

[harringtonswriting]

hi bree!!! may i please request knuckles brushing against each other and person A getting shy with bob floyd? thank youu ily <33

ahhh hi kait!!! thank you so much for the request!! i love bob sm and i loved writing this!! ily too, i'm so sorry this got away from me and is much longer than i wanted but i hope you like it! <33 (this is bob x fem!reader, i hope that's okay!)

...

The clock on the wall reads six o’clock, and you can’t help the smile on your face as you know your favourite customers are about to come through the doors.

It’s almost like clockwork at this point; every Friday night after they’re done work for the week, a group of young aviators you’ve become very well acquainted with comes to the Hard Deck to relax, hang out, and get drunk. There’s quite a few of them, too; on days when they can all make it, they number thirteen–though their thirteenth member usually spends his time sitting at the bar and making moon eyes at Penny while she laughs at his terrible jokes. But they usually come in a group of six, sometimes eight, depending on deployments and detachments and things that they explained to you when you’d asked, once, back when you first met them.

The music from the jukebox, which you can vaguely recognize as Kenny Loggins, is playing through the Hard Deck, loud enough to enjoy but not so loud that you couldn’t hear yourself think, or hear anyone else who might try to talk to you. The Hard Deck is still pretty empty, just a few people sitting at the bar or having gotten drinks and taken them to a table.

However, when you hear the door open, you look over and you don’t see the normal group of aviators you’ve come to expect. No, the only person walking in is Lieutenant Robert Floyd, also known as Bob. He’s the sweetest and the quietest of the group, but one you’d find yourself looking out for, singling out among the group to talk to when you brought them drinks or when you spoke to them when they came over to the bar top. He was also pretty easy on the eyes, you’d be happy to admit, and today was no exception. He’s wearing a tight fitting white t-shirt, tighter than he normally wears, and tight jeans with some light brown leather boots. He’s got a baseball hat on his head, though he’s quick to take it off as he approaches where you’re standing behind the bar.

“Good evening, ma’am,” he greets you, ducking his head slightly. He’s always been polite, almost too polite, but it was endearing coming from him. You think so, anyway. His big, sweet-looking blue eyes shine behind his glasses, and you can’t help but lean forward on the bar towards him.

“Good evening, Lieutenant Floyd,” you greet him, and he ducks his head again. You look around, between the tables, the pool tables in the back, and the front door. It’s more than a little unusual to see him on his own; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him at the Hard Deck without at least two or three of the other aviators. “Is it just you tonight?”

“Oh, uh, no, everyone else is coming by later,” he explains, still clutching his baseball hat in one hand. He shrugs with one shoulder. “We were supposed to meet here at seven, but I didn’t get the message until I was already in the parking lot here. And with traffic, if I went back home and came back here I’d really just be driving for an hour, so…” His voice trails off, and he looks around. It’s unusually quiet for a Friday, even this early in the day, and there are only four or five other people besides you and Bob and Penny, who’s talking with someone else at the other end of the bar top. There’s plenty of open tables in the Hard Deck, and none of the pool tables are being used, but it wouldn’t be much fun for him to play by himself. So you decide to be bold.

“Well, there’s plenty of seats available at the bar, if you’d like some company while you wait.” You try to be as nonchalant as possible as you wait for his answer. His eyebrows raise and his mouth opens just a bit in surprise, but then he’s blinking and nodding his head.

“I’d like that very much, ma’am,” he says, nodding once again as he politely addresses you. It’s very sweet, but you put a hand on your hip and shake your head.

“You can call me by my name, if you’d like.”

“Only if you call me by mine.” You’re not expecting him to retort so quickly, but it’s definitely not unwelcome.

“Deal.” You smile at him as you grab a clean glass and start filling it up with his usual drink of choice, a club soda with lemonade. You slide it across the bar to him before starting a tab for him on the register behind the bartop. You also grab him a fresh plastic cup filled with peanuts, holding it out for him to take as well. A faint pink flush spreads over his cheeks as he takes that too, his hand brushing yours.

As your skin makes contact with his, you see the pink flush deepens into a rosy red colour, spreading across his cheeks and down his neck. His glasses slip down his nose just a bit, and you feel yourself melt inside, just a bit, at how shy he is, and you just stand there and look at each other for a moment before laughter from behind you breaks the spell. Bob clears his throat, sitting down on the closest stool and putting his hat back on his head. He pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose while you grab a cleaning rag and start wiping down the area around where he’s sitting. You start talking to him, asking about his day, and the two of you slip into conversation from there.

He’s so easy to talk to; he keeps his eyes on you the entire time you talk, nodding along and laughing at the appropriate times. Not fake laughs, either; his laugh is like a guffaw, which you hadn’t thought was real until you heard him laugh, and you love the sound of it. You find yourself confiding in him, telling him about your week, about the latest drama with your friends, about everything and nothing and anything in-between. You do get other customers who come up for drinks, and regulars who come by to say hello, and you serve them in between topics of conversation with Bob. He also tells you about his day, about the ups and downs of flying multi-million dollar planes, and about how if he has to do any more push-ups because of Hangman and Rooster’s eternal pissing contest, he’s gonna lose it (well, okay, those aren’t the exact words that Bob uses, but if he wasn’t so polite you’re sure he’d word it like that).

But before you know it, nearly an hour has gone by since Bob first walked into the Hard Deck and sat down with you. And while he’s watching you with a smile on his face, you know you’ve been going on and on for most of it. Which is a little embarrassing, but it was just so easy. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I’ve been talking your ear off this whole time,” you tell him, feeling your cheeks warm at the thought. Hopefully you haven’t been boring him.

“Don’t apologize. I liked it.” Bob is quick to offer you reassurance, almost as if he can read your mind. He adjusts the hat on his head, and his fingers sweep some loose golden blond hair up under the navy cap. You can’t help but watch, wondering if his hair is as soft as it looks. You’d bet it is. “I like the sound of your voice. It’s nice to listen to.”

You’re not quite sure if he’s flirting with you or genuinely that kind. It might be a mix of both. But it gives you some relief, and the two of you chat for a few more minutes before you hear Penny call out a greeting from behind you. You look towards the door to see that the rest of Bob’s usual company is walking in now. As usual, Pete makes a beeline for the bar top to say hello and shamelessly flirt with his girlfriend, while the others go off to claim a pool table and some seats nearby.

Bradley looks in your direction, very noticeable in a bright green and yellow Hawaiian shirt and ripped jeans, and then he nudges Natasha to look over at you as well. There’s a big grin growing from under his mustache and he does so, which isn’t too far from normal for him, but as he waves to you and Bob before grabbing a pool table, you can’t help but wonder if he’s behind the hour delay tonight. No, it couldn’t be. Bradley’s not sneaky enough to do anything like that.

But now that they’re here, you know that Bob is going to go and join them; that’s what he’s here for, after all, not to sit with you and let you talk his ear off all night. Not that you’d mind his company, though. You honestly would gladly give him this spot permanently, just to hear his laugh and see his pretty blue eyes behind the glasses that you were finding more and more attractive on him as the night progressed.

So you decide to do something bold, wanting to keep talking to him. You grab him a clean glass and, while he’s busy looking over and waving at the others, you grab a napkin and a pen from your apron to scrawl your name and number down. You fill the glass with club soda and lemonade, and place it in front of him with the napkin when he turns back around to look at you. He reaches into his pocket, presumably for his wallet, but you shake your head.

“Your drinks are on me tonight. As a thank you for being such good company,” you tell him, and once again his knuckles brush yours as he takes the drink and napkin from you. He thanks you, his voice soft, as he turns and heads over to where his friends and co-workers have gathered. He greets Natasha first, putting his drink down on the table she’s leaning against, and talking to her. Some of the others approach the bar top and you fetch them the drinks they request, making small talk for a few minutes before they head back towards the pool tables.

Bob and Natasha are still talking when you look back at them and he’s since grabbed a pool cue to play, but you see her look at his drink and the napkin you’d given Bob with it. She points at it, saying something you can’t hear. Bob walks back over to the table to look at it, while she takes his pool cue and starts playing against Jake.

You see Bob look down at the napkin, and then he’s pushing his glasses further up his nose and pinking it up to bring it closer to his face. Then he looks up and his big blue eyes meet yours from across the bar. He points at the napkin, and then at his face. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he’s got a tightlipped, nervous smile on his face. You nod, and you can’t help the giggles that come out as his entire face lights up, his smile becoming more relaxed and you can see the pink flush that spreads across his cheeks under the warm orange glow coming in from the big windows in the back of the bar near the pool tables.

(And when you get a text message later on from an unknown number, one that identifies themselves as Lieutenant Robert Floyd who hopes he entered in the right number and is looking forward to speaking with you again, you can’t help but hope that next week the others get delayed as well)

.

.

.

[heartbreakslow]

Da$h watch 1x07

"Do you not want to have sex with anyone or just me?"

Cash goes to pick up an order from Harry's (with Chook, Jayden, and Tilla waiting for him) and gives Darren a death stare.

Darren tries to watch sports and get takeout with their dad, but when he asks them what’s wrong because they don’t usually hang out with him, they get mad and leave. 

At school they basically act like a first grader pulling their crush’s hair, making fun of Cash for wearing…a turquoise t-shirt? (Idg fashion I guess.) When they ask him to participate in the direct action he immediately agrees and there’s a couple moments in the school occupation where he kinda takes the lead and seems to be using his crime skills!

They have only one scene together but it’s a doozy. Cash is sitting in the hall by himself when Darren comes and sits down with him. Cash looks glum but can’t help but smile when Darren makes fun of his shirt again. Then things get serious.

Cash: I know you think I’m scared, eh, but I’m not. I’m just trying to figure stuff out.

Darren: …Do you not want to have sex with anyone, or just me?

Cash: Anyone.

Darren starts asking more questions, and Cash articulates his flavor of asexuality (without the word ever being used): “I like kissing you, but when it becomes more, I don’t get the urge to go any further. And if I do, it’s not enjoyable.” It gives the impression that his past experiences were consensual but awful.

Darren makes a bunch of “what not to say to an ace person” comments (“well have you tried it?…Maybe it was just bad sex or with the wrong person”) and Cash is becoming frustrated trying to get across that he just doesn't enjoy sex. Darren suggests that the two of them could take it slow or try to find something Cash likes, but he’s not biting. He’s on the verge of tears as he asks, “so you’d be totally fine if we just never did it at all?” They look shocked and can’t answer, so he makes them agree to just be friends. They agree, fake smiling while looking like they're about to cry, and abruptly leave. He cries by himself.

Then Darren watches him sleep and pines!

Some more Darren bits: when Quinni asks "am I too much," Darren says, "yes but you're my too much"--I think that's very indicative of how Darren defines love! Also, Peter is happy that Darren was in the protest!

Thoughts:

It’s really sweet that Darren tries to go to Peter for company when they’re sad, though of course they end up pushing him away. After Darren comes out of the building at the end, Peter high fives them and pats them on the back and Darren just looks...so happy about that approval and like they're trying to hide that reaction. I LOVE THEM.

I think the hallway scene is great, in the vein of the Bobby and Darren pronouns scene in ep 1. It’s not about being educational or spoonfeeding you why you shouldn’t say shitty things. (I like how Darren says “but you can get a hard-on” and the show doesn't even stop to unpack that, Cash just ignores it.)

Rather, the point of the scene is how the marginalized person feels. Darren doesn’t get it and Cash is frustrated, and he feels hopeless that their relationship could ever work. When they say “maybe it was just bad sex” he literally facepalms!

I also think that even though the description of Cash’s asexuality is written as well as it can be, it’s a lot to deliver and King Will is knocking it out of the park making it sound so impassioned and natural. The lines about his past experiences imply so much pain despite being so short and vague.

What is so great about this show’s portrayal of asexuality is that it’s not attempting to be generic or universally relatable. There is no one ace experience--there are so many traits that are combined differently. Having a character who's queer, very romantic and sensual, AND sex repulsed and low libido, instead of like "bleep bloop, if you don't want sex you must not want anything else," is so satisfying. Also, representation aside, it's a new story.

On a Darren note I do think it shows a lot of maturity/growth that they have this conversation, even though it’s messy. I’m not sure he would have been ready to make up with them at this point even if they’d said everything right. I also think that agreeing with Cash’s request to just be friends was done out of respect and maybe some guilt at not having respected his boundaries before. 

[becauseimanicequeen]

RANDOM THOUGHTS: Big Dragon ep. 4 (rewatch)

(These are my random thoughts from my rewatch on the 29th-30th of March 2024)

Since my rewatches may contain spoilers, I’m putting my random thoughts after the “Read More” link.

After the previous episode where Mangkorn and Yai seemed to start getting interested in each other, and then ending with the whole arranged engagement for Mangkorn, I’m expecting some extra drama in this episode.

I would’ve walked out too. These dads are so fucking clueless it’s not even funny.

Like I said in the post on the previous episode, I had forgotten about this whole arranged engagement thing. However, now that Mangkorn and Hong are talking about their past, I vaguely remember them playing with kites. But, wasn’t there another boy playing with them at one point? And didn’t it turn out that that boy was Yai? And that boy dropped something, like a bracelet or something, which was his mother’s (or something his mother had made for him), right?

Yes, give me more Pong and Park moments!

The fact that Yai almost rejects the invitation he got from the girl he likes (Arjo) because of the hope he has that Mangkorn will get back to him at some point is telling of his new feelings for Mangkorn and how much that ”date” night after the pool party impacted him.

Ooh, the tension in the air as Yai and Mangkorn meet again. I love it!

I was just sitting here laughing at Yai and Mangkorn being sulky and how they cleared up the misunderstandings (except for the misunderstanding about Hong, though) only to have Mangkorn honking his horn and scaring the shit out of me. I jumped just as high as Yai.

The way they’re looking at each other at that skatepark…

It’s funny how that went from Mangkorn saying he wants to be friends to him kissing Yai within seconds. I mean, sure, you can definitely kiss your homies. But, Mangkorn’s desire for more is leaking out into what he does while his words say something different. The mixed signals would make anyone confused. And Yai certainly is. Not to mention that Yai still believes Mangkorn is dating Hong (since Mangkorn hasn’t cleared that up, yet).

Yai masturbating to a photo of Mangkorn (and imagining it’s Mangkorn’s hand touching him)... He’s got it bad for Mangkorn, doesn’t he? Considering he’s been into gals before but is starting to catch feelings for a guy (and I think Mangkorn is the first guy he’s been interested in, right?), no wonder he’s confused. Add to that the mixed signals he’s getting from Mangkorn.

I know they will (kind of?) clear it up. I remember that confrontation scene in the rain that leads to them going to Mangkorn’s house and having sex again. I just don’t remember when that happens in the series. But I’m guessing it might be a while still, since (if I remember correctly) Big’s character will come back into Yai’s life and show his interest in Yai. That happens first, right?

The innuendos in my head when Mangkorn was sucking that straw… And right after Yai’s masturbation scene, too. That was well-planned. Thank you, team Big Dragon.

Wait, now I think I remember that Big’s character shows up at Arjo’s party, right? So, I expect he’s going to show up pretty soon.

Oh, it’s already Friday and party time.

Ooh, ominous music when Mangkorn and then that girl (called Cherry out of all the names in the world) showed up.

A total side tangent: I don’t like cherries. A cherry almost killed me once as a kid. So I have a personal beef with cherries. That’s why I know, for a fact, that this Cherry shows up to be part of the drama between Yai and Mangkorn that’s coming. Am I being delulu for basing this on my personal beef with cherries? We’ll see. WE’LL SEE. (Besides, I remember that she’s trying to hook up with Mangkorn in that confrontation scene between him and Yai, so I know I’m right.)

And here we have Big’s character! I feel sorry for him already since I know he’s going to get his heart broken. Doesn’t all his characters, all the fucking time, get their hearts broken? (Poor guy is finally getting a lead role, though, so there’s a 99% possibility of a happy ending for him at least once.)

Oh, his name is Nine. Thank you.

What got Mangkorn pissy? I can’t remember. It wasn’t just him hearing that Yai would come to Arjo’s party, was it? Well, he could’ve gotten jealous about that since he knows Yai likes Arjo. That could explain his stare in the elevator’s direction after Yai went into it before…

And here’s the scene! The confrontation! But it was cut short…

And then we got a moment between Pong and Park at the end. At least that made me smile. And the pinkish neon light in their room was pretty.

I can’t wait to see more of the confrontation between Yai and Mangkorn, which I'm sure the next episode will start with. And I can’t wait to see the development between dumb and dumber, er, I mean Pong and Park.

[parkitaco]

1, 49 and 3 for byler?

(these touch prompts give me LIFE good god ur writing is T O P T I E R)

After so many near-death experiences over the past few years, you’d think Mike would have gotten used to it now. But when the Upside Down vines grab him by the ankles and drag him straight through the gate, Will close behind him, he still manages to be taken aback.

They land hard on the ground on the other side of the Lover’s Lake gate, both gasping frantically for air after being suddenly yanked through the water. Mike sits up, blinking and staring out at the desolate sky surrounding them. He hasn’t been through a gate yet, and he immediately wishes he could have kept that streak up - he feels sort of nauseated, and also vaguely like the world is ending, probably because it is.

Nonetheless, Will is here, so things can’t be all bad. He glances over at his friend- no, his boyfriend now, as of two weeks ago, he reminds himself, and happiness cuts through his fear and adrenaline. Will is sprawled out on the ground, coughing as he lifts himself up onto his elbows and glances around. He looks dazed, like he’s not sure where he is, or maybe that’s just the trauma response talking.

“Will,” Mike says quietly, and Will’s eyes snap to him with no small amount of relief.

“Mike,” he chokes out, and he crawls his way over to him, grabbing Mike’s shoulder tightly, and Mike hurriedly reaches out to wrap an arm around him as he scoots closer. “We shouldn’t- God, the bats, we need to get out of here.”

Mike glances around, frowning. There don’t seem to be any bats around, he notes, nor are there any demodogs or new beasts lurking in the corners. Maybe they’re still distracted by Eddie’s corpse, lying somewhere near a trailer park forever abandoned, Mike thinks bitterly, and quickly shoots down that thought before he can think too hard about it. Now is not the time.

“I think we’re okay for now,” he murmurs to Will, who nods blankly, still staring around and looking incredibly shaken. “Are you okay?”

“I- yeah,” Will says, not believable in the slightest, and he continues to cling to Mike’s shoulders as Mike pulls him closer, halfway into his lap. “It’s just- I haven’t been here like this before. Through a gate. It feels more real.”

Mike hums sympathetically, arms wrapping carefully around Will’s back, and Will takes a shaky breath, head dropping to rest against Mike’s shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay,” Mike says, with as much conviction as he can muster, reaching up to brush gentle fingers through Will’s hair. “We just have to get back, and we’ll be fine.”

Will doesn’t respond, instead squirming closer to Mike and tucking his face away against his neck, face hidden and breath warm against Mike’s neck. Mike lets it happen for a beat, kissing the top of Will’s head and keeping one hand resting gently against the back of his neck as he feels Will’s breathing even out a little. Then he pulls back, gently lifting Will’s face off his shoulder with two fingers under his chin. “Talk to me,” Mike murmurs, as Will reluctantly blinks up at him, and he leans forward to press his forehead against Will’s, fingers gently brushing back and forth over Will’s jawline.

“It’s, like,” Will starts haltingly, licking his lips, “When we’re in Hawkins I can only feel him when he’s near, but here he’s- everywhere. I don’t like it.”

Mike shivers a little at the words, and not for the first time he wonders at what it must be like to be Will Byers, sweet, shy, sarcastic Will who has never done anything but be himself, and the world has thrown obstacle after obstacle at him for it. It’s not fair, not even a little, and Mike wants to take some of his pain, wants to transfer it onto himself just so that Will can be a little lighter. “We’re going to get him,” he says quietly, as Will continues to cling to him, “I want him dead, okay? We’re gonna do it.”

Will huffs something resembling a laugh, eyes falling shut as he leans further into Mike. “Yeah, I’m sure Vecna’s super intimidated by the scrawny fifteen-year-old with pent-up anger issues.”

“Who, me?” Mike asks in mock offense, and relief courses through him as Will laughs again. “I am not scrawny.” The other stuff, however, is right on the nose, but he chooses not to share this particular information.

“You are,” Will says, opening one eye and smiling at him, “But it’s okay. I still like you.”

“You love me,” Mike corrects, just because he can, and he tilts forward to press a kiss to Will’s lower lip. “You love me so bad.”

Will smiles, and he’s not shaking at all anymore when he responds, “Yeah, I do.”

[patch-doll]

No Going Back

contains: angels, rape, drugging, violence, falling

Her body feels heavy, vague, and blurry. She opens her eyes, but she can’t process anything. Her vision was too fuzzy, and the room was too dark, dim illumination provided only by her own Light.

She lays still, and stops trying to perceive what’s around her. She remembered she was at a park, and then-

She gasps as she feels something touch her, she tries to move away but her body isn't responding properly. Her squirming only ends with one of her wings getting crushed between the floor and her body.

“Seems the little birdie is almost awake. I’ll be back for you soon, I promise.”

Desperately she tries to ask something, anything, but nothing about her was working. A soft click sounds as her captor leaves.

Stuck, trapped. Panic and small sobs. Vague thoughts until unconsciousness finally claims her.

She slowly stirs awake, drifty and soft, until she becomes aware how uncomfortable her body is. What was- Oh, right.

She sits up and slowly starts to process things. The floor was hard and cold. She’s naked, which isn’t helping with that. One of her wings aches horribly, worse than the rest of her. 

Something was chafing against her wrists, cold metal. She tries to reach forwards but gets stopped short. Chained to the wall by her hands. 

The panic starts pulsing inside of her again.

That click echoes through the room again as her captor comes back.

She starts begging, pleading, incoherently. Barely aware of any individual word, just a jumbled stream of sorry please sorry no stop don’t please sorry no-

A kick to her stomach stops the fevered begging.

“That’s better. Quiet, just like that. You must be thirsty, it’s been a little while since you’ve had something to drink.”

She's so very parched, she doesn’t know how she didn’t notice before now, but she needs liquid badly.

Her captor leans down, and the faint Light of her halo lets her see who has been doing all this to her. 

Her captor is… completely plain. She didn’t know what she expected but she thought- She thought- Didn’t think it would be like this. This is worse somehow.

A glass is tilted to her lips. “Drink up, you need it.”

Her throat is so dry. She thinks about pushing it away, but her throat is so dry. She opens up and swallows as much as she can, nearly choking on it.

Laughter. “You took the first drink? Really, how could you be that desperate already?”

Steps fading away from her, as she begins to sob softly again.

“This is gonna be fun.” is the last thing she hears before the click of the door lock leaves her alone again.

She exists in a cycle of waiting. Waiting for the next meal, waiting for the next drink. Waiting to see when the next one will be drugged. She can never tell, it’s always tasteless.

It’s not hitting her as hard as it did at the beginning. She’s not sure if she’s developing a tolerance or they’re just using less on her now though.

A cycle of waiting for the next time they take her body and-

She’s not thinking about it, she’s not thinking about it, she’s thinking about anything else. Like her friends finding out where she is, hearing the click of the lock but with a different voice finally accompanying it.

The last time they took her and- There was a cracking noise, and she wants it to have been her joints, but her Light got dimmer and she knows- She knows- She knows, but she can’t check. Nothing reflective in here, so maybe it was a different part of her that cracked.

Maybe.

She waits.

She wakes up. Cold, tired, hungry, thirsty. Water and bread is right there though, so it’s fine. They don’t usually leave it there while she’s sleeping, but maybe they felt nice?

She’s careful while eating, if anything falls out of reach, or gets spilled, she knows she has that much less until next time.

Half an hour passes and her body still feels okay. Maybe they actually were feeling nice today, it’s usually drugged after this long of a gap between meals.

Her body feels really nice, actually. Soft and warm in a way it hasn’t in… She’s not sure how long.

A little while later and that click echoes, a tiny moment to prepare for whatever comes next.

“Little angel.” is the only greeting she gets.

They stand just in front of her, and she tenses tight, but they just sit down with her and lean in close. A hand cups her cheek and she gasps, the warmth in her body pulsing to the rhythm of that touch.

They smile, and she realizes the meal must’ve been drugged, just not with what she’s used to.

She gets embraced, and it feels impossibly good compared to everything that had been happening before. Her whole body is singing with the sensation. She hears soft little moans bouncing around the room, distantly aware that they must be coming from her but unable to really understand that fact.

They start laying her down, positioning her in a way that leaves a small part of her head screaming, knowing what’s about to be done to her. But she can’t put up any resistance, too enthralled by touch that finally fulfills something she forgot she needed.

They slip inside her, and the shock of it brings her back to awareness. Horror and fear rushes through her mind, but her body only presses closer to them.

“No, don't! Please please not like this! I can’t ignore it like this, anything else, I’ll do anything else! Please don’t do this to me!” she begged.

They just laughed in response, speeding up their pace. She felt herself matching their rhythm, body still feeling warm and wonderful, utterly heedless to her growing panic and disgust.

“Stop, stop! I’m sorry, please don’t take it away- Unh!” she interrupts herself with a sharp moan, unable to suppress everything her body was screaming out.

She hears a sharp crack from right over her head, and sees the room get even darker as her halo breaks down further.

Her moans get louder, entirely instinctual. Words fail her, and the protest is left as just tears rolling down her face. She still can't stop from pressing them even deeper into herself.

She feels something building up inside her, and she knows if she- That’ll be the end of it all. She tries to think of anything to say to get them to stop but it’s just too much. No room to think with every feeling shooting through her body.

It builds and builds, up to that edge. She’s tensing up so much, almost like she might be able to pull away, but they bring her closer and bite down on her neck. Everything that she is-

Crests-

And shatters.

Her Light goes out.

[thelunarbar]

Back to my rewatching(was waiting for DVDs to show up bc I got tired of watching it in my phone)

Ah the classic forgot where I parked the car thing. We’ve all been there

Why was his first thought to run over the cars??? I mean ig it took less time and maybe he wanted the noise but it seems very unnecessary

Distractions i.e. Allison

Liar. and point proven literally ten seconds later. God I hate him he’s so annoying

Oh good more cringey teenage make outs 🤮 and it never ends wtf

Ha cockblocked

I refuse to believe she wouldn’t need Kate to spell Gevaudon(probably misspelled that which I think proves my point quite well)

Tyler posey is not a great actor

Seriously enough with the super dim lighting already 😭

Love the sitting in the dark waiting for Scott thing that Derek does

Liar. Why do people lie so much in this show??? Just be freaking honest with people. And if they aren’t lying they’re being vague and cryptic Oi with the poodles already

Scott has no right being annoyed at stiles for being upset with him

Stiles is me. I am stiles. We are one. Wanna use the silent treatment but someone has to tell my friends they’re dumbasses

I feel like she wouldn’t have been able to find a book on some random French fairytale that easily but maybe that’s just me

Eyyyyy Star Wars reference love it

This feels so like smth teenage boys would do so props to the writers for that. Ofc normal boys would tie up their friend and chuck lacrosse balls at them for fun with no ulterior motive but still

This is so gross why did they have to show him retching like that???

I’m used to being special and now I’m not is literally Jackson’s whole argument for why he’s an ass to Scott and like buddy grow up the world doesn’t revolve around you

Why is Allison not commenting on the fact that he kinda looks like he’s dying rn?

I love stiles rolling his eyes when Allison says maybe she can bring Scott’s grade up 😂 I’m with stiles on that

Coach is probably my favorite character

Ik stiles intelligence gets talked about quite a bit but imo it can always be talked about more

Ofc then he does smth dumb like scratch up so dudes truck and then makes the guy think it was Scott that did it and gets him beat up by like four grown men sooooooo still a teenage boy

I mean at least chem teacher stopped the beating up of Scott but I still hate him

I fucking love Derek’s car

How did he afford it tho??? And like where does he park it when he goes to his house bc it’s never there when he is

Don’t we find out deaton has known the hales for a long time? Why are he and Derek acting like they’ve never met before? Maybe I’m misremembering

Wow and moving right on to tying him up

I feel like they totally change what/who deaton is to the plot later on bc none of this makes sense with what I remember happening later on

Ahhhh love stiles jeep too

See I remember the going to the school and Scott howling through the PA system but I did not remember deaton being tied up in the back of Derek’s car

Scott’s first attempt at howling is horrifying and hilarious at the same time

And Derek’s “you’ve gotta be kidding me”

And then stiles “like a cat being choked to death Scott”

Sour wolf

Gross. I really didn’t need to see all the blood pouring from Derek’s mouth

Also is that what Peter looks like as the alpha always or does that change later bc he doesn’t look how I remember? My memory of this show isn’t great tho

[imjustanauthor]

@lord-irving-braxiatel continued from [x]

After the War had destroyed both the Collection and Gallifrey, the only place that Braxiatel felt relatively safe to return to except for Legion was Earth.

He had started running his White Rabbit bar again on a trap street, one for the alien visitors that were stranded on Earth with nowhere else to go much like himself. Earth was like a station stop for aliens; just waiting to get on board the next train to take them home. Whether home may be.

Since the bar didn't open until later, he decided to do some errands. He fixed up his TARDIS, checking to see if the old girl's eye of harmony needed any more rift energy in Cardiff, and tidied up the bar from the brawl from the night before he glanced at his watch and realized he hadn't even had his morning coffee yet.

Braxiatel wasn't usually a coffee person, he preferred tea but now and then he liked to try and shake up the mundane routine he had found himself in and decided to take himself for a walk in St. Jame's park when the gentleman sat beside him. Braxiatel took a curious look at the gentleman, wondering why the man next to him decided to sit here when all the other benches were clearly empty, and pursed his lips. He looked vaguely familiar, a deja vu feeling that he couldn't quite place. "I don't watch much television but I do read plenty of books," Braxiatel admitted as he sipped his drink. "What kind of books do you write?"

“Science fiction. I’ve got this series called Time Shards. It’s about time travel. They’re pretty popular.” John shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. While he was not going to lie about the fame he’d received from his books, it wasn’t exactly something he particularly cared about. He just liked writing his stories. He’d be doing it whether or not a publisher had picked up his books.

“What about you?” He then asked, happy to make idle conversation. “What do you read? You don’t look like a sci-fi kind of guy. No offence, of course. Nothing wrong with being a history guy, or a poetry guy, or a whatever you are guy.”

John shrugged again. He liked all those things too. In fact, was there any kind of reading that he didn’t like? Hm...

Nope, he didn’t think there was. There was definitely TV that he didn’t like, though. Last week, he’d watch a ‘documentary’ about popular music of the 70s, except it’d had really been clips of music videos spliced together with celebrities talking nonsense - and most of that nonsense wasn’t even correct! Yeah, he didn’t like that kind of thing. Maybe it also came in book form, but that wasn’t something he had the misfortune of coming across yet.

“Mind you, you don’t look much like a chatting to strangers guy either, yet here we are, eh?”

[littlespoonevan]

Buck/Eddie L. A stolen kiss from the prompt list😊

Anonymous asked: oooh, Buck/Eddie + L. A stolen kiss?

ahh this was a fun one to write!! thank you both for prompting it 💖

also @mellaithwen tagged me in seven sentence sunday and this is much more than seven sentences but it's also the last thing i wrote so akjsdhf enjoy!!!

-

The thing is, Eddie’s pretty useless in the mornings.

He knows how to function – he has to when he has a kid to feed and send off to school – and thanks to the army and his job he knows how to do so on very little sleep. But just because he knows how to function doesn’t mean he’s actually awake. The Eddie Diaz that exists before 8:30am exists exclusively on autopilot.

And that’s exactly the excuse he’s going to go to his grave with to explain why he does what he does on one fateful Friday morning.

Buck had stayed over the previous night, not for any reason other than the fact neither of them had really wanted him to go home after dinner.

(And like always, it had been easy to use Christopher as the scapegoat when he’d turned to Buck with hopeful eyes on his way to bed and asked, “Will you be here in the morning too?”)

The mornings somehow always seem to run that tiniest bit smoother with Buck there. He butters the toast while Eddie gets the coffee machine going and intermittently checks to make sure Christopher is actually getting ready and not just lazing on his bed like he’s taken to doing recently.

It’s not until they’re about to head out the door that Eddie temporarily loses his mind.

They’d lost track of time over breakfast, too busy discussing weekend plans – the zoo versus aquarium debate took a long time – which means he has to rush Christopher to brush his teeth so they can still leave on time.

“You take him to school,” Buck says, putting their dirty dishes in the sink while Eddie hovers around uselessly. “I can clean up here and meet you at the station.”

And it’s a small thing, really, because Carla wouldn’t actually mind tidying up the kitchen when she brings Chris home later but it’s the fact that Buck knows Eddie hates leaving a mess for her – knows he hates leaving a mess in general. So Eddie stills and asks a slightly awed, “Are you sure?” while slinging Christopher’s backpack over his shoulder.

Buck nods right as Chris yells, “Dad, I’m ready!” from the hallway and Eddie lets out a breath.

“Okay. Thanks. I’ll see you at work.” And then he promptly, rounds the kitchen table, presses a chaste kiss to Buck’s lips and darts out to the hallway to bustle Chris out the front door.

It isn’t until he’s sitting behind the wheel of his truck that he realises what he’s done.

“Oh my god.”

“Dad,” Chris huffs from the back. “What’s wrong? Won’t the car start?”

Eddie shakes his head, turning the key in the ignition and just about managing not to scream. “No, sorry, bud. I just got distracted there for a sec.”

Christopher gives a vague hum in reply, clearly not interested now that Eddie’s finally pulling out of the driveway. And it’s fine. Eddie’s completely fine except for the fact he just fucking kissed his best friend on the mouth like he was-

Like he’s-

Well.

Like they’re married.

Jesus Christ.

And now he has to go work a twenty-four hour shift with Buck.

Buck, who has never been able to let anything go in his life ever.

Buck, who will most certainly mock him for this for the rest of his life.

Maybe he’ll offer Eddie some courtesy by at least not mentioning it in front of Chimney.

God, what the fuck was he thinking?

He looks at the time on his dashboard and suppresses a groan.

It’s too early in the morning for this.

~

“And then I just kissed him.”

Karen’s laughter rebounds throughout his car and Eddie bangs his head on the steering wheel. He’s currently sitting in the parking lot outside the station. Buck’s jeep is already parked up next to his and Eddie is so not ready to face him yet.

“What were you thinking?!” Karen hiccups, still cackling while she waits for Eddie to reply.

“I don’t know!” he exclaims, dragging a hand down his face. “I wasn’t thinking at all. We were just doing our regular, normal routine. It just felt-“

“Normal?” Karen supplies and he doesn’t need to be in the same room with her to know what face she’s making. It’s the same face she makes when she looks at him over the rim of her wine glass with a faint, knowing smirk.

He hates that face.

“Shut up,” he mutters, slumping in his seat and looking in the direction of the truck bay. He’s really only got another two minutes before he’s officially late and Bobby will kick his ass if he finds out he’d just been lurking in the parking lot the whole time. “I know what you’re gonna say.”

“Then don’t make me say it,” she retorts. “Eddie. Do you want to know what I did this morning?”

He’s not quite sure what noise he makes in response but Karen clearly takes it as encouragement to continue.

“I made breakfast while my wife helped our kid get ready for school. And then we all sat down together and ate. And right before I left with Denny to take him to school, do you know what I did?”

“I hate you.”

“I kissed my wife goodbye,” she concludes, ignoring him completely. “See what I’m getting at?”

“I really hate you,” he repeats. Except he doesn’t. Because Karen is the confidant he never expected to have and probably his favourite person to text besides Buck.

“I’d ask you over for a wine night this weekend to unpack all of this but I think you’ll be otherwise engaged. I want updates though, Diaz. Don’t leave me hanging.”

He hums in agreement, looking at the time again. He really needs to get out of the car. “I can’t avoid him anymore. I need to head inside.”

“Good luck!” Karen calls and then she’s hanging up, leaving Eddie to deal with his fate alone.

Here goes nothing.

~

Eddie steels himself as he walks up the stairs to the loft. Everyone is milling around, moving between the dining table and the couches with plates of breakfast food or cups of coffee. No one immediately turns to point and laugh at him when he reaches the top step though so he assumes Buck hasn’t said anything yet.

Buck, who looks up like a deer caught in the headlights when Eddie glances in his direction.

They stare at each other for an indeterminable number of seconds and just as Buck opens his mouth to say something, the bell rings.

Eddie doesn’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse.

~

The rest of the morning is populated with back to back calls, leaving absolutely no room for Buck to confront him unless he intends to invite the entire firehouse into their business. Which- wouldn’t be the first time.

They work together as well as ever but every time their hands or shoulders brush Eddie thinks he might just about crawl out of his skin.

By the time they finally get back to the station and stay there, it’s long past lunch time. Bobby heads straight for the stairs, calling over his shoulder that he’s taken them offline for an hour so they can eat and clean up. (The last rescue was…messy.)

Eddie manages to sneak off to the shower before Buck can catch him. They’ve probably said all of ten words to each other between calls and he knows Buck is only going to let this go on for so long but he’d very much like to live in denial for as long as possible, thanks.

He thinks he’s in the clear when he’s out of the shower, assuming Buck’s still in there. It isn’t until he’s on his way to the laundry room to dump the towel he’d been using to dry his hair that he’s ambushed.

A hand grabs hold of his arm and then he’s being unceremoniously dragged behind the ladder truck.

Buck lets him go as soon as they’re both out of sight of the general firehouse, eyes wide and chest heaving with what can’t be exertion so must be…nerves?

“You haven’t talked to me all morning,” he says without preamble and Eddie tries not to cringe.

“I’ve spoken to you today,” he mutters, staring at the space on the floor between their shoes and twisting his towel from one hand to the other.

“’Pass the jaws, Buck,’ doesn’t count.” The exasperation in his voice is enough to make Eddie look up again and there’s something there behind his eyes. Something a little desperate. A little hopeful.

Taking a breath, he forces his voice to remain steady when he meets Buck’s gaze head on. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Buck’s expression shutters but recovers almost just as quickly. “What d’you mean?”

Eddie sighs. “I mean I did it without thinking! I was just- we were having breakfast and making weekend plans and- and I was getting Chris ready for school and you were cleaning the kitchen and it just. It felt…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. Doesn’t know how he could. Because telling Karen and telling Buck are two completely different things.

Buck’s jaw works and Eddie can tell he’s deciding what to say, if he’s going to say what’s really on his mind or smile and shrug it off. Eddie’s not sure which he’d prefer right now.

Finally, after what feels like far too long, Buck takes one deliberate step forward, puts his hand on Eddie’s shoulder and leans in to brush their lips together.

It happens so fast Eddie doesn’t have time to react, save for the dazed way he looks at Buck when he pulls back.

“That was on purpose,” Buck says and Eddie-

Eddie laughs, heart beating wildly in his chest, and quickly drops his towel in favour of hauling Buck in for a real kiss. Buck grins against his mouth, hands curling over Eddie’s shoulders, and slowly backs them up against the side of the truck.

And they’ve got approximately twenty seconds before someone finds them and completely ruins the moment but for right now, Eddie wants to bask in this.

Because maybe it’s a feeling he’s always known without thinking about it but now that he’s allowed to think about it, now that he’s allowed to feel it on purpose, he thinks nothing could possibly feel better than being in love with Evan Buckley.

~

[dominimoonbeam]

Scars That Remind - Part 2

More teen pack drama! I will be aging them up soooooon.

AU where Gabe basically adopts Darlin and they end up being like a sibling to David. 

Posted on ao3 as well as here!

tags: homelessness, pack family, dysfunctional darlin aka canon darlin, bullying, family dynamics, learning to trust.

Scars That Remind - Part 2

“You drove Darlin to school,” Milo notice allowed.

David grunted once in the affirmative and dumped some books into his locker. They went to an empowered high-school, one of the perks of growing up in Dahlia. He heard empowered people outside of big cities either had to homeschool or try to go to unempowered schools—which could easily get messy. Just the other day, Asher flirted with an electro until they accidentally fried the lights in the gym.

“You’ve driven them to school every day this week,” he added, not noticing when Asher stole the second half of his sandwich from his lunch.

“Mhm…” David finished his apple and looked up at the sky where a cloud was sliding in front of the sun, casting a shadow over the crowded quad and all the students eating lunch. Milo was a year younger than him and Asher, and a year older than Darlin. The week had been weird to say the least. Darlin was living in the guest room at his house, eating breakfast with them in the morning before going to school and then coming home with him. They pretty much hid in the guest room except for meal times, where they cleaned their plate and eyed the rest of the food but never took anything more than whatever his dad put on their plate—which was a lot.

“Didn’t they leave the pack? Why are they still in Dahlia?” Asher asked, mouth full of Milo’s sandwich. He asked the way only Asher could, without any offense or ill thought, only vaguely curious.

David shrugged but it was only a matter of time before they knew. Any day now, Asher usually went home with him on Fridays and slept over sometimes on the weekends. And plenty of the pack hung out at the house. It was actually kind of weird no one had noticed in the last few days. “They’re parents left the pack and Dahlia.” It was a fact. Not a secret.

Milo had been about to yell at Asher for stealing his sandwich when the words hit him. “Wait. You mean…Their parents left without them?”

David nodded once, still scrutinizing clouds.

“So…What, they’re living with you and Gabe?” Milo continued, voice pitching.

David felt Asher watching him. Asher could be flighty as fuck but he never missed a detail and he was often first to put them all together. He’d asked David about the bandages on his shoulder on Tuesday in the locker rooms before gym class.

The bell rang and Milo swore, grabbing his shit and hustling off to his class. Asher and David had their next period together and he waited until Milo was gone to ask, “You said someone bit you when I asked. You weren’t joking?”

David sighed and got up. He started walking, Asher falling into step beside him. “No.”

Asher smirked curiously. “Did Darlin bite you?”

David snorted. “No.” He sighed, glancing around to make sure they were alone, walking around the outside of the buildings toward gym. “Don’t say anything?”

Asher nodded once and David knew whatever he told him now, he’d take to the grave.

“They were sleeping in a park and this other wolf showed up. We got in a fight.”

Asher glanced at his shoulder again, like maybe he could see the wound through his t-shirt and hoodie. “That’s rough. I can’t imagine being alone like that.”

David sighed, nodding. Leave it to Asher to find the point and ignore everything else.

“Can I still come over after school tomorrow?”

David nodded again as they ducked into the locker rooms. “Yeah. Of course.”

A couple hours later he was sitting in his truck waiting for Darlin. Waiting too long. What the fuck? The parking lot was almost empty. Had Darlin finally made a run for it? Did they really think Gabe was bullshitting when he said he’d chase them down? It wouldn’t even take him that long to do it. His dad would probably have them back at the house before dinner.

David considered driving home without them and growled at himself for thinking it. Asshole. He got out of the truck, slamming the door and storming back into the school. Where was there last class? They always came from this direction…

“Do it!” he heard someone laugh-shout.

He followed the voices outside, to a spot between buildings where kids sometimes snuck out to smoke.

He heard the very clear sound of someone slapping someone just before he rounded the corner to see the group of younger students. Darlin’s age, and Darlin was the one with a growing handprint across their cheek—the one that was still bruised yellow and brown. The four other kids had them cornered. Still, Darlin should be able to knock these idiots out. He’d seen them fight.

“Shift! I wanna see it!” the air elemental shouted, shoving hard at Darlin’s chest to slam them back into the wall, using a little wind to give themself more force, that air rolling around between the buildings to kick up leaves.

Darlin grinned, lip bleeding onto teeth. “If I shifted you’d shit yourself and I don’t wanna smell it.”

One of the other kids moved fast, grabbing at Darlin’s arm. Darlin growled and tried to shake them off but there were too many hands and for some reason Darlin wasn’t throwing punches or shifting. Smoke rolled off their arm where the other kid was holding—a fire elemental.

David growled when he stepped forward, the sound loud enough that it started all of them. All eyes turned to him, growing bigger when they had to turn their heads upward. He bared teeth. “You want to see a wolf shift?”

The fire elemental stumbled into a second, both looking around for an exit but David was in the way now. The air elemental grew instantly teary, jabbing a finger at Darlin. “They threatened us!”

Darlin’s eyes widened at that. “What? No! Fuck you, I didn’t do anything!”

“I saw you. I heard you,” David said, stalking closer. They all backed up—except for Darlin who just grabbed their bag up off the ground and rubbed at their arm, their sleeve burned. “You were using your powers on them—to cause pain. You know you could get expelled for that, right?” He took another step and they were backed into a brick wall. “You know they belong to the Shaw pack right?”

“But-But they’re always by themselves,” one cried, full tears now.

David growled and one of them screamed. “Pack is pack and if anything like this happens again, you will be enemies of the pack for life. Am I understood?”

They whined and nodded.

David sneered before turning on his heel and catching Darlin by the arm, pulling them along with him around the building and toward the parking lot. “What the fuck was that?” he asked when they were well out of earshot of those shits.

“What?”

“You were just going to stand there and take it?” He kept walking, only stopping when he got to the truck. He pulled them in front of him and then lifted their arm. He grabbed their hand and carefully lifted the sleeve to get a look. Red and welted but not a burn that would scar. “Why?” he demanded when they didn’t answer.

“I…If I did anything they would have told someone. You think anyone would believe me over them?” They jerked their arm back from his hold. “And I can’t get in trouble again. They’d try to call my parents and it’s not like that’s going to work. Then they’d call—” they stopped suddenly, jaw ticking when they snapped it shut.

David stared. “My dad.” They would call Darlin’s pack alpha if they couldn’t get ahold of their parents. “So?”

Darlin looked away.

David’s dad had been called by schools plenty of times. “What? You think he’d believe those assholes over you?”

“Would it matter? It would be a scene. I would have fucked up. Either way I didn’t handle it myself. The last thing I need right now is your dad regretting letting me stay.”

David actually took a step back. It was like this kid learned new ways to hit him. “No one is letting you stay,” he said clearly. “You belong with your pack.” Did they think his dad would kick them out for getting into a fight at school? They made it sound like they were a criminal granted mercy. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Darlin. You aren’t in trouble. Your parents just…” He tried and failed to understand what exactly Darlin’s parents had done or thought they’d been doing. “They left. But that doesn’t mean you did anything wrong.”

Darlin stared back at him, eyes big with surprise, like they were actually trying to absorb everything he said. They swallowed hard and nodded once, looking away.

David sighed and opened the passenger door of his old truck. “Get in.”

Darlin did, slinging their backpack onto their lap. It was always just as heavy and full as it had looked Monday night when he found them in the park. He wasn’t sure if they’d actually left anything in their room at the house. He suspected they took everything they owned with them every day.

After that, Asher or David would find Darlin on their way to lunch and drag them along to sit with them.

 -

 Darlin made the bed in the guest room, grabbed their bag and headed out to the living room. Asher and David were in David’s room playing video games and Darlin had overheard something about Asher staying the night.

They planted themself on the couch, in the corner, and pulled a book from their bag, thumbing it open.

When Gabe came home they tensed but kept there eyes on the page. Why did they always want to run away when he showed up? He’d never been anything but nice. They knew that but it didn’t change the gut reaction.

He hung up his jacket and took another couple steps into the house, stopping and looking at Darlin on the couch.

A million thoughts flashed across their mind. Were they not supposed to sit out there? Darlin’s parents hadn’t had house rules, aside from staying out of their way and not touching any of their stuff. Did Gabe consider the couch his stuff? Fuck.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Darlin creased the cover of their paperback. “Yeah. Why?”

Gabe shrugged. Was he smirking? “Haven’t seen you come out of your cave all week.”

David and Asher laughed in his room down the hall, the sound carrying.

“Ash is spending the night, so I moved to the couch,” Darlin explained, suddenly worried they’d made the wrong move. Maybe they weren’t allowed to sleep out there?

Gabe took another step closer, shoulders eased back. “Asher sleeps in David’s room when he’s over. The other room is yours as long as you want to stay, Darlin. You don’t have to give it to anyone and you don’t have to share it with anyone.”

Darlin stared, surprised. He sounded so firm on that—like it was a real rule, like it was their own space and no one else’s. They got the feeling he wouldn’t go back on it either.

Gabe’s gaze flicked to their backpack for a second and then away. “If you want to leave stuff in there you can too. No one’s going to go in there and take anything.”

“I don’t have anything,” they said reflexively. They didn’t have anything anyone else wanted, anyway. It was just their junk. But they wanted to keep their junk. It was all they had.

Gabe was so calm—so different from how Darlin’s parents had been and even farther from how they’d said he would be. They’d been staying at his house all week and there hadn’t been any red flags, no signs that his invitation had been a trick or anything to suggest he’d done it for any reason other than…what? Loyalty? He said they were family like it meant something.

“You have things,” Gabe said clearly and Darlin felt heat in their face. “But I mean it, Darlin, your room is your own.” He smirked and turned toward the kitchen. “But you are always welcome to sit out here too.”

Darlin looked at their bag, considering grabbing it and bolting for the guest room…their room. Gabe was going to make dinner, so he’d be in the kitchen for a while. They chewed their lip and went back to reading on the couch.

Next week when they went to school, they didn’t take all of their junk. They left the clothes they weren’t wearing in the drawers and their toothbrush on the desk with some of their books and the rubbed duck they’d had since they were a kid on the bedside table. It was all right where they left it when they got back. Eventually the surprise of that wore away. Eventually they even thought of the room as their own, slammed the door when they were pissed at David, and told other teens from the pack to stay out with the full belief that they couldn’t come in.

[bobafetts-princess]

More construction worker!boba, please ? 🥺 (maybe with jealous boba ?) Thank you !

Fine fine fine fine more Construction Worker!Boba under the cut 😘

I’ve been working on this for MONTHS and finally found the inspo to finish it so here nonny, I hope this scratches the itch!!

Warnings: Jealous!Boba, smut, PiV, dirty talk fem!reader.

So one day you go visit him at the job site and catch him working. Sweat dripping from his brow, swinging that fucking sledgehammer, the evidence of his hard work staining his shirt and boots. He’d left his lunch at home that day, bag sitting on the kitchen counter as a signal for you to get your cutest sundress on and meet him at the job site.

So you do, donning on your favorite red sundress and some wedge sandals, grabbing the bag and heading out to where he’s working. As he finishes up, you’re leaning against your car, parked right next to his truck, and watch. He doesn’t know you’re here yet, he’s busy, but someone else does.

It’s a new guy on his team, tall and lean, a bit older not as old as Boba, but he really leans into the salt and pepper look and it’s a good look for him.

“Hey darlin’ what can I do for ya?” He asks, clearly not having seen you the last few times you’d been to the site.

“Waiting for someone,” you offer up vaguely, if Boba taught you anything, it’s not to offer up too much information.

“Well I could be that someone?” He says, smooth like he’s accustomed to hitting on his bosses partner. You laugh, loud and sincere as you shake your head no. Boba hears you and his head whips up to see who’s making you laugh.

“What’s the matter, Princess?” This new guy asks, but he’s light about it, clearly not hurt that you keep turning him down. The nickname sends a prickle down your spine as you think about how that’s Boba’s nickname for you though, not this guys.

“I told you, I’m waiting for someone,” you tell him again, kinda annoyed, kinda amused. Interested as to how this situations going to turn out.

“And I told you I could be tha—“ but he’s interrupted.

“Cobb!” Comes Boba’s sharp voice, several feet away but still intimidating. Cobb jumps, ever so slightly, before he flashes you a winning grin as he turns to greet your partner.

“Just making sure this pretty thing finds her way around, Boss,” but Boba’s already maneuvering around him to press up against you, one hand cupping your cheek and the other cupping your ass. The grope leaves you with a small smudge of dust on your cheeks and a faraway look in your eyes.

“I think she knows her way around. Tell the boys I’m taking my lunch break and I’ll be back in an hour,” he tosses over his shoulder as his hand presses into your lower back to guide you to his truck.

-

“You like when he hits on you, Princess?” Boba sneers, low and deep in your ear. He’s buried inside you in the back seat of his truck, dragging himself in and out in this torturous pace that leaves you panting for more.

“No,” you lie through your teeth, gasping as Boba gives you a harsh thrust. You didn’t love being hit on, but it gives you a dark thrill to know someone besides Boba finds you attractive enough to publicly flirt with you. Especially if they’re respectful about it, not creepy or rude.

“Don’t lie to me, Princess, I can feel your pretty pussy clench around me,” he’s got one hand wrapped around the back of your neck, holding you in place so he can turn you inside out. “So let me ask again. Did you like when he hit on you?”

“Yes.” You admit, arching up against Boba’s strong body.

“I knew it,” he grunts in your ear, pulling the shell between his teeth. “I could see it in your eyes when I walked up,” he explains, his thrusts increasing in depth. “It’s alright though, Princess,” he spits the nickname out as he staves off his end. “We both know I treat this pussy better than any of those boys could hope to,” his fingers find your clit and it shoves you over the edge to the third orgasm he’s given you in the short amount of time you’ve been in the backseat. You keen, crying out his name as you clench down on him, triggering his own orgasm. He fills you, thrusting throughout, as he presses his lips to yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth.

“I love you, Princess. So much,” he pants, resting his forehead on yours as you both come down.

“I love you too, Boba. I promise I’m not interested in that worker or anything-,” you start but he cuts you off with a chuckle.

“I know, I’m not concerned, I trust you with my life, sweetheart. Sometimes the jealousy factor can make a scene more fun, give a little forbidden aspect to things,” he winks at you, reassuring and explaining in the same breath. You shake your head in loving disbelief at him before drawing him close to kiss him one last time.

No tags here friends. I hope you like it!!!

[yuurivoiceincorporated]

If this is a little grim you don't have to write it but, what if the listener went with Al to visit and clean up his parents graves? Also what if they go by themselves to plant flowers by the grave and surprising Al with it? Thank you have a good day/night

The Apple Doesn’t Fall Far From the Tree

-Alphonse x reader

-sad

-note: the interpretation of Al’s parents is not canon and also vague. I didn’t want people to be confused on what’s canon and what’s not

“Al, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. It’ll be quick, I promise.”

“Are you saying that to comfort me or you?”

“Honestly,” Alphonse sighed, “I’m not really sure. We’ll just be there for a little clean-up if their graves. Nothing big, I swear. Though, I guess you’ve never been there before.”

“Okay…”

Later, you two arrived at the grave sites.

“We’re here.”

Both of you stared in silence at the stone slabs. You wondered what they would think of you.

“You know, they would’ve loved meeting you,” Alphonse looked away, shyly.

“You think so?”

“I know so. But, first, let’s get rid of these leaves around the graves. Then, we can clean the graves.”

“Got it.”

You watched Alphonse. He was so gentle when cleaning up the graves. And fast, too. He must’ve done this many times before.

“Al…” you whispered quietly.

“Yeah, boo? Is somethin’ wrong? If you’re uncomfortable, you can leave.”

“No, no, it’s not that. I was just wondering if you could tell me about your parents.”

“Oh.”

“Only if you want to, it’s okay if you don’t. I was just wondering, that’s all-“

“No, I don’t mind. Come,” he patted the area next to him. “Sit.”

You sat down on the lush, green grass.

Alphonse pondered about what to say. “Okay, so,” He pointed to his mother’s grave. “This is my mom. She was awesome. I looked up to her a lot. I don’t remember much about her though. She was really nice to Seth. She saw him as another son.”

“She sounds like a very nice person.”

“She was.”

You patted his shoulder, encouraging him to continue.

“Alright.” He pointed at his father’s grave. “That’s my dad. He was also nice. He had a good sense of humor. We used to go to the park together. Taught me how to play catch. I think we also used to get ice cream together on the weekends. What was his favorite flavor? Shit, I can’t remember. And I think I used to help around the shop with Seth. What did I do there? I think I used to sort stuff and stock shelves… fuck, I really can’t remember.”

“It’s okay.”

Alphonse sighed.

You cupped Alphonse’s face. “I’m sure they’re very proud of you.”

His eyes widened a bit. “You think so?”

“Yeah, i mean, well, look at you. What’s that thing that old men say all the time? Oh right, ‘You’ve grown into a fine young man, Alphonse!’”

Alphonse chuckled. “Come here, you goof.”

He pulled you into a kiss.

“Al,”

“Yeah?”

“You talked about how great your parents are, right?”

Alphonse nodded.

“But, I think the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree. You’re amazing, too. And they would have been so proud of you.”

“Aw, boo… Come here, give me a hug so I can wipe my snot all over you.”

You pulled him into a tight, loving embrace. “It’s fine. After all, you’re the one who’s doing the laundry.”

“Wait, what?”

[roniscloud]

psh - love affair

park sunghoon [f. 8516 words] love affair

so when i’m gonna know what to feel inside, baby?

maybe it’s just all in my head, so

don’t overthink, this is love

maybe it’s just a crush

baby, is this your love affair, your love affair?

synopsis: what happens when two childhood best friends make a deal to help each other’s reputations? an unforeseen circumstance prompts sunghoon to approach you, intriguing not just you but practically every other student at your college. you believe your reunion with him can only end in one of two ways: you resort back to being friends and go on with your lives, or you use each other and once you’re both done, you fall out and never talk again. how will you two navigate your companionship? is it just the nostalgia coming up? a revival of feelings? a new crush? could it possibly be actual love?

genre + tropes : fluff. comedy. the slightest angst. childhoodbestfriends!au. enemiestolovers!au. college!au. fakedating!au. 

warnings: fem reader. a little swearing. slightly suggestive themes, sorta. a few cliches. mentions of underage drinking. the american collegiate school calendar. does them geeking out over fantasy/sci-fi sagas need a warning? unknown mutual pining. they’re so helplessly clueless of their feelings. also appearances of the rest of enha plus txt.

i. prologue

if someone told you that you would reconnect with your childhood best friend—let alone date him, you would’ve laughed in their face and told them to fuck off. park sunghoon is bad news. well, at least to you he is. one of the infamous campus playboys, you can spot him around the quad flirting with a different girl practically every day. 

but to you, he couldn’t have been anymore unlike the sunghoon you grew up with. you grew up with the sunghoon who couldn’t stand being around others, mind always focused on his own interests. you knew him as the little shy boy who would hide behind his mom whenever new people came around. the first person he opened up to was you. you can blame your mom for that. you can vaguely remember her words, something along the lines of mrs. park and i have been friends for longer than you have been alive. when we found out we were both expecting, we knew you two were destined to be besties. 

she was right. everyone thought you were two peas in a pod. wherever one of you went, the other followed. always stuck together, like true partners in crime. your close bond stuck for years. if anyone needed you, you’d most likely be found in the seats of sunghoon’s ice skating practices and competitions, cheering him on and being obnoxiously loud. likewise, he always attended your showcases, spending hours complimenting your artwork.

but then the villain of everyone’s lifetime eventually appeared. puberty. 

alas, your friendship did what anyone could predict of a couple of preteens entering high school. the usual “no matter what we’re gonna stick together!” leading to “sorry for blowing you off, got really busy,” to the imminent “what happened to us? we used to be so close,” and eventually the end of it all. senior year, the two of you attempted to leave on a good note. by that, you mean your parents made both of you apply to the same colleges to have a chance at sticking together. well, it worked, you got into the same university. funny how the universe does things.

back to present day, you’re now in your second year at hybe university. let’s just say, sunghoon isn’t the only one who went through a personality change. sunghoon traded his late night practices on the ice to one-night stands at frat parties. you, on the other hand, traded your once outgoing and fun-loving persona for a more… cold grunge meets artsy introvert. overall, let’s just say you both have reputations for not being the most approachable people. well at least you still have one thing in common.

ii. the cafe

the busy campus cafe was roaring with study groups filling every table. the aroma of fresh coffee and tea being brewed filling the air, creating a warm atmosphere—contrast to the cold winter weather just outside the walls. the college students scattered around, just like their minds scattered as they prepare for finals. not immune to the dreaded time of year, a group of four boys enter, immediately grabbing the attention of those already nestled inside.

a quick roll call of the four known by the student body as en-4, a combination of the dance crew name enhypen and the notorious f4. lee heeseung—the campus heartthrob, captain of the dance crew, center of the basketball team, and an unknown hopeless romantic. park jongseong, although everyone calls him jay—the resident bad boy and party animal, but those close to him know that he’s actually the responsible one. sim jaeyun, otherwise referred to as jake—the friendly and flirty frat boy who you can catch playing soccer in the quad almost every day. finally, park sunghoon—the handsome heartbreaker. he doesn’t need more of an introduction.

the four of them make their way to the counter, placing their orders. of course jake doesn’t miss his chance to sound extra sweet and send a quick wink to the barista, getting elbowed by heeseung in the process. after getting their drinks, they look around to see almost no where to sit. not a single table to fit all of them was available. 

in one of the tucked away areas, sunghoon spots an empty seat at a smaller table. the only catch was there was someone sitting across from it, hunched forward over her laptop. he can’t see much of her figure but he immediately recognizes her features. it’s you. well, a more mature and grown up you, but he couldn’t forget that face for the life of him.

sunghoon’s feet drag himself across the crowded room, catching the attention from the neighboring groups he passed but sneaking away quiet enough to not alarm his own friends. the three are too caught up arguing about what to do. sunghoon can hear the faint voice of jay suggesting going somewhere else while the other two shoot him down as he walks further away. he makes his way all the way up to your side. you look up, scanning him, confused but unamused. “this seat taken?” the first words he said in a year and half to you. still not not giving him any emotion, you hesitantly shake your head once, immediately bringing your focus back to your essay.

ignoring him only works for so long, his gaze not leaving the top of your head. you can feel his stare piercing into you, finally meeting his eyes. “what’s your deal?” the irritation and bluntness in your tone is all too evident.

he shrugs and answers nonchalantly, “nothing, just go along with it.” his answer is hushed, almost as if he’s a bit embarrassed.

“what are you trying to pull here, park?”

“can i not just sit here and peacefully drink my latte? am i that disturbing to you?”

“considering that the second you started walking in this direction, everyone had their eyes on us, then yes, you are that disturbing.”

“they’re not looking at us.” he pauses before continuing with his rant, “they’re looking at you.”

“and why the hell do you think that is?”

“they’re all trying to figure out what could possibly be so interesting about you that i would choose this seat.” he says it like it’s the most obvious answer.

you scoff and turn to see the lingering stares of the others in the cafe. “well, if it isn’t the god park sunghoon being as humble as ever, gracing me with his presence and having mercy on a peasant like me.” the sarcasm dripping off your tongue like venom.

he smiles warmly at your animosity and chuckles. “i’ve always loved your sense of humor.”

“funny cause i’ve always despised yours. i’m gonna ask one more time. what do you want, park?”

he only shrugs. hesitating before responding again, “i like it here. i like talking to you. it’s familiar… comfortable.” he sees your expression change subtly. it’s only for a second before you regain the prior look. he tries to read you. he caught you off guard and his pride brings a smirk to his face. 

by now, he finally tunes back into the situation around him and can feel his phone going off in his jean pocket. he pulls out the phone to see dozens of notifications, quickly stealing a glance back up at you to see that you’re already back to typing away on the previously forgotten assignment. he laughs as he sees the boys blowing up their group chat asking what he was doing. he looks up, finding the three sitting at a cramped booth with shock and confusion written all over them.

“enjoying the attention?” your turn to break the silence. when he turns back to you, you continue, “you’re no stranger to it but you’ve always loved it.” he gives you a slow nod, turning the question back to you. you answer him, “you know that it’s not my forte.”

“and why is that? scared people will get to know the real you?”

“oh please, like you aren’t afraid of me exposing all the dirt i have on you. imagine the buzz i could create with all of your old baby pics.”

he jolts up from his relaxed position, eyebrows raised, and completely on edge, “you wouldn’t dare.”

you lean forward in your seat, elbow resting on the table, cheek resting in your palm, and chuckle, “try me.” the words leaving your mouth quickly and a smile immediately replacing it.

“you’re finally smiling at me. good to know you still have emotions.” he gets you to laugh again. you spend the next 20 minutes catching up. looks like you two kept more in common than you thought. things run smoothly between the two of you, some of your old memories and inside jokes being brought up. “why didn’t this happen sooner?”

“what, us talking? i mean, you and i stopped running in the same crowd and school got the best of us. i will admit, though, freshman year sucked without you.”

he sighs when he hears your admission. “how about this? a proposition. i’m sure you’re aware that i don’t have the best reputation.”

you cut him off, “you can say that again.”

“haha, very funny,” he throws in another sarcastic comment. “you know you’re not exactly the most approachable either. hate to be the one to break it to you but you’re pretty intimidating.” he notices the expression on your face turned into one of annoyance at his last statement, “don’t look at me like that, you know it’s true.”

you dismiss the slight jab, telling him to continue. what you don’t expect is the next four words to come out of his mouth. “go out with me.” he sees your face drop, “oh come on, stop looking at me like that.”

“so i see, a little bit of time without me and you go insane.”

“look, i don’t mean actually date me, i mean… pretend to.”

again, you stare at him like he grew another head. “you want me to fake-date you? what are we, in a k-drama now? sorry hoon, you’re attractive but i would’ve preferred hwang in-youp or song kang.”

now he’s a bit annoyed, answering cockily, “i am so much better looking than them.”

“you wish.”

his jaw drops for a few seconds and then he chuckles. “i’m serious, think about it. we go out and spend time with each other like old times. i don’t look like i’m so incapable of being in a committed relationship and you don’t look like such a loner. no offense.”

“offense taken… but i see your point.”

“see, look at you using that smart brain of yours. this would be no strings attached. just two friends helping each other out while simultaneously deceiving everyone else. i know how much you love tricking others.”

you sit quietly, weighing the pros and cons in your head. “deal.”

iii. bro code

a few days later, sunghoon sits in his shared apartment with the boys, slumped on the couch as they eat dinner. “why are you guys so against it? i thought you wanted to see me in a relationship and now that i’m in one, you guys don’t approve. make it make sense. i should be free to date whoever i want.”

“yeah dude,” pausing to take a bite of his burger, “we get that.” jay answers, seeing how defensive his friend is getting.

jake interejects, “we respect your choices, but like… her? of all the girls that are falling at your feet, you chose her? the one that has no interest in you at all? i know you’re powerful but i don’t get how you managed to pull that off.”

“i feel like you could’ve consulted us about it first. bro code, man.” heeseung says as he shrugs his shoulders and sips on his soda.

“that’s kinda why i like her, because she isn’t all over me like the others. she’s cute and fun to hang out with. just give her a chance. honestly, what’s the worst that could happen? we go out and it doesn’t work. no harm in trying….”

that seems to do the trick as the boys lay off from the topic, going back to their own dinners and watching the latest episode of the penthouse.

later that night, sunghoon leaves their dorm to meet up with you. you agreed earlier that if you needed to meet up and talk that you’d go to the art department. perks of being an art major allows you a studio to spend your time in, secluded from the outside world. in this case, you and sunghoon don’t have to worry about nosy roommates.

when he arrives, he makes sure to take the back entrance like you mentioned. he makes his way through the deserted halls, glancing at each room he passes, and taking note of the various pieces framed along the corridor walls. he gets to the end of the building, finding a studio decorated with your name on the door. he silently enters. you don’t notice him at first with your back against the entrance and the music playing too loud through your airpods, focused on molding the clay on the pottery wheel. he grabs an empty stool, propping it beside you and taking a seat. he takes off one of your airpods, putting it in his own ear.

you finally turn your head towards him, “how long ago did you get here?”

“just now. how long were you waiting?”

you sit up, facing his direction. “i had a couple of classes today and came here to finish some stuff, been here for… what time is it?”

“um… almost 11.”

“then like four hours.”

“you’ve been working on that for four hours? what even is it, and when did you start doing pottery?” he points at the unfinished ceramic.

“not just that. i had some paintings that i needed to finish for my portfolio and those are in a separate room to dry. this,” you refer to the clay, “is just something i’m working on for fun. i got into it cause one of my profs suggested i try another medium.”

he nods along while you explain. “you can keep working on it while we talk.”

you hum in confirmation and turn back to the wheel, rewetting your wands. “so how do we make this believable? seems like people already know. word spreads quick when it comes to you.”

“we just need to act like a couple. so hanging out, going on dates, posting each other here and there, and being affectionate.”

“wow you finally found an excuse to kiss me,” you laugh as you joke with him, him following suit. “sounds reasonable, not much different from how we were as kids, just now we have to call them dates.”

“shouldn’t cause too many problems. just don’t fall in love with me, babe.”

you smile at the new nickname, “likewise, hoon.” you continue throwing the clay, molding it to your desired shape. you hyperfocus on the sculpture, tuning out the boy sitting next to you as he watches—he catches on that you still have the habit of pouting whenever you work on your art. you hunch forward, letting some of your hair fall in front of your face. too caught up, you don’t notice that sunghoon left his seat to stand behind you. he takes your locks and ties it into a messy ponytail. you snap out of your tunnel vision to ask, “why do you just have a hair tie handy?”

“i always had to carry some around for you because you always lost them. i never grew out of it, i guess.” he grins warmly, “do you remember how many times you had complained when you would get paint in your hair and i would have to clean it up for you?”

“how could i forget?” the night ends with more laughs and reminiscing on your childhood. time really does fly faster than you think.

iv. rated pg

the bell rings as you and sunghoon enter the convenience store. you two are discussing the movie you two just watched as you walk through the aisles. 

you split up agreeing to meet back at the register. you make your way to the drinks in the back while sunghoon goes to get snacks. you grab an iced jasmine tea for yourself and an iced vanilla latte for hoon. sunghoon yells over the stands as he browses, “hey, what should i caption for my insta post?”

you respond loudly, “i don’t know, something related to movies.”

sunghoon looks at the picture on his phone: a photo of you two snuggled up in the theater, most of your face hidden in his hoodie. he types in quickly “rated pg for park’s girl <3”, hits post, and goes back to browsing. he goes to grab bento boxes, honey butter chips, candy jellies, and practically everything his eyes landed on. 

when you make it to the cashier, you see sunghoon with his arms full. “you good there, park?”

a muffled “yup” is heard behind all the food.

you look around, walking away when you find what you needed. going closer to him, “why didn’t you just grab a basket?” you start to take some things from his arms, lightening his load. 

“i… uh… didn’t think of it.” he pauses in between, an embarrassed expression adorning his face. you giggle as you take everything to be rung up, missing how his ears turned red. you catch the worker’s name on his tag, jungwon. before you can take out your wallet to pay, sunghoon’s already entering his card into the machine. you whip your head around, ready to tell him off. “nope, do not look at me like that.” you roll your eyes at him as you grab the bag with what you just bought. 

“oh come on… you can’t seriously be mad at me.” no response from you. “really? the silent treatment?” he scoffs jokingly when you cross your arms against your chest. he comes closer to bend down and wrap his arms around your waist. “it’s snacks. it’s not that big of a deal.”

you release yourself from his grasp and walk out of the store, still faking being mad. you mumble, “whatever,” under your beath but still loud enough for him to hear.

he bids jungwon a quick “have a nice night”, not missing him calling the two of you a cute couple. sunghoon meets up with you outside, already sitting on the curb of the parking lot. 

v. pretty boy

the start of a new semester. en-4 are sitting out on the grass of the quad. surrounding them are various groups of students, typical for the buzzing campus on a crisp spring day.

“you need to cook the noodles first. end of discussion.” jake says sternly. he and heeseung are in a heated argument over the proper order of cooking ramen.

heeseung defends himself, “you are so wrong. you make the broth first to build the flavor.”

jay brings his attention up from his phone, “neither of you should be allowed anywhere near a kitchen.”

out of nowhere, a loud car horn is heard, drawing the attention of every student in the area. sunghoon looks up to find you leaning against the passenger door of your car and yelling, “hey, pretty boy! get in.” he chuckles at both the label and how bossy you sound, turning to his friends to grab his things. the three of them are stunned at him.

jake breaks first, “wait, what?”

heeseung lets go of his argument with the australian, “dude, are you seriously leaving?”

sunghoon only nods as he walks away, not letting them ask any more questions. he notices all the watching eyes and decides why not put on a show? he shouts out to you, “thought i was picking you up later, babe.” he makes sure to emphasize the nickname as his infamous smirk tells you exactly what his intentions are.

“lecture ended early, love. prof had some emergency. thought why not surprise you…” you wrap your arms around his shoulders as he reaches you and let him lay a quick peck on your cheek. “now come on, i’m taking you out on a date so either hop in or lose your chance. your choice but i don’t have that much patience so hurry up.”

“yes, ma’am,” he leans in closer and guides his hands lower from your waist. “but i’m driving,” he says as he sneakily takes your keys from your back pocket, 

“you sly fox.” he laughs at the new nickname as he opens the door, letting you sit down before closing it. he makes his way around the hood, noting that all attention is still on you two. he meets eyes with his friends again, the three looking much like the faces he saw in the cafe almost six weeks ago. as he buckles in and starts the car, you rest your hand on top of his on the gear shift. he raises his eyebrows and gives you a charming smile. “by the way, why’s your friend looking at me like that?”

he looks back up to face the boys, “which one?”

“jay. since we started doing this, he keeps looking at me weird—like weirder than the others.”

he tilts his head to the side when he realizes that jay is indeed looking in your direction, but his eyes are focused solely on you. “jay is… how should i put this? you know what i’ll tell you later. for now, tell me where to?”

vi. jukebox

the hazy red glow of the neon lights and checkered tiled floors welcomed you as you led sunghoon into the local diner. this place was a staple in your childhood, your go-to hangout spot with the aforementioned boy when you were still in your youth. 

“i will say, this is a nice surprise.”

you look up to sunghoon as he sits across from you in the vinyl booth seat, “i knew you would love it.” you laugh with each other as you get situated, seeing a young but tall—why is he so tall? he looks like he’s only a teenager—server coming towards your table.

“hey, i’m niki and i’ll be taking care of you guys today,” the giant says cheerfully. “anything i can start you guys with?”

sunghoon looks up at the boy to take your order swiftly, “two strawberry milkshakes, please.” you watch as niki nods and walks back to the counter.

“well, well, well, park… you remembered?” you question teasingly with a cocked eyebrow.

“you’ve always had a sweet tooth. no wonder you loved me so much,” his turn to turn up the typical park sunghoon charm.

you scrunch your face in annoyance, “you should become a comedian.”

“i will never get tired of your sarcasm. it really just… keeps me going.” his way of joking back. “stay here. i’ll be right back,” he says quickly as he looks behind you and gets out of his seat.

you wait patiently for him, assuming he’s just going to the restroom. unbeknownst to you, sunghoon is making his way to the jukebox on the other side of the restaurant. he flips through the song list, finally finding the one he wants. he quickly puts in the coins and sets it in the queue. as he turns to go back to you, he sees an engraving on the side. he runs his fingers along it as he inspects the writing. property of sunghoon and y/n. he thinks back to your last day of eighth grade when you two etched the label onto the wood. he joyfully walks back to your table, ready to let you know about the memory. he sits next to you now, resting his arm behind you and around your back,

“what took you so long, park?”

right as he’s about to explain, niki comes to your table, “two strawberry milkshakes. anything else i can get you two?”

you turn your head quickly to the boy sitting next to you, seeing his eyes are already focused on yours. “um… no, i, uh, think we’re good.” you stumble and stutter a bit. you watch him as he nods his head and walks away. regaining your composure, you ask sunghoon again, “so what did take you so long?”

once again, he gets interrupted. the sound of “purpose” by justin bieber playing over the speakers makes him stop. he gives you a second to register the song, “that’s why.”

you tilt your head down and look at him quizzically, “really? this is why?” you reach to your drink, sipping on the straw as you wait for his answer.

he mirrors your movement, nodding his head in confirmation. he too drinks from the tall glass, contrary to your use of a straw, he opts to drink straight from the rim. he pulls the milkshake away, leaving some on his upper lip.

you burst into quiet laughter, turning your gaze away to not spit out your own shake.

sunghoon furrows his eyebrows in confusion, “what’s so funny?”

you turn back to him, “you got a little something there, park.” you wipe away the liquid from his face with your thumb, popping into your own mouth to clean it up.”there, all good now.”

sunghoon freezes in his spot, trying to comprehend what just happened. it’s quick but he feels something. trying to shake off the foreign feeling, he turns to face forward again. he feels you lean into him, head resting on his chest. a small grin appears on his face, humming along to the justin bieber tune still playing.

“i missed hearing you sing.”

sunghoon looks down at the crown of your head, “really? you used to always tease me about it, though.”

you shake your head with a light laugh, “i never meant it. whenever you sang, it always calmed me. i used to think… if you didn’t pursue skating, you could’ve been a singer.”

“and then what? i would bring you around on tour everywhere and sneak you in backstage?”

“that could’ve been fun.” you now laugh louder than before, him along with you.

there it is again. sunghoon’s not sure what it is, trying to suppress the odd emotion. he sits there, cuddling up to you in the booth, finishing the strawberry milkshakes, just hoping you can’t hear the way his heart starts to beat faster.

sitting at the bar, snacking on fries, and trying to not be seen by you two are heeseung, jay, and jake. they ask themselves would they really be considered sunghoon’s friends if they didn’t follow them and stake out their date.

vii. nerds

sunghoon picked you up from the art department today. he showed up about ten minutes too early, and he got permission from your instructor to monitor your class from the back. he waited outside the door while you cleaned up, earning a few prying looks from your peers as they exited. as you drove back to his place, you agreed to have a movie marathon. 

opening the door to his dorm, you say “we are watching star wars. luke, leia, and han solo are a way better trio than three child magicians.”

sunghoon defends his choice, “first of all, they’re wizards. second, i’m offended. harry, ron, and hermione use magic with their wands. all star wars has is weird weapons and robots.”

“they’re literally in space and excuse you, but does something called—oh, i don’t know—the force ring any bells? they’re jedis, duh.” you rolls your eyes, making your annoyance clear.

sunghoon stops in the hall, “harry potter has spells and potions.”

“star wars has chewbacca.” you stand next to him with your arms crossed.

definitively and matter-of-factly, sunghoon says, “quidditch.”

“you can’t seriously believe quidditch is praiseworthy?” you look at him crazily.

“you two are such nerds.”

you both freeze, turning to see the rest of en-4 sitting in the living room. in the midst of your argument, you both failed to notice the others were home. you realize that jay was the one to stop you two. you also realize it’s the dreaded time for the best friends to finally meet the “girlfriend”. sunghoon seems to realize it as well, reaching to intertwine your hands to both sell the act to his roomates and to calm you down.

he leads you into the living room, meeting eyes with the boys. “so… guys, this is y/n, my girlfriend.”

“it’s so nice to finally meet you! i’m jake. sunghoon here has been holding out on us. i mean, come on, it’s been like two months and he still hasn’t introduced you to us.” the australian continues on with his energetic and positive ramble, asking you questions about your relationship.

heeseung butts in to tell jake to slow down. “i’m heeseung. jake’s right though, you two started dating before winter break and we’re barely meeting you now. sunghoon is always hanging out with you and telling us everything about it. honestly, all i can tell you is to run while you still can.” the others all laugh at his antics.

sunghoon scoffs, “hey, i’m not that bad.”

you excuse yourself to get a drink from the kitchen. you can hear jake spitting out more questions like rapid fire to sunghoon as you walk away. you reach into the fridge, fishing out a water bottle.

behind you, jay enters quietly. “you two are cute together.”

you flinch at his voice, “geez, dude. almost gave me a heart attack.”

he chuckles under his breath and leans against the counter, “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. i met sunghoon at freshman orientation and we immediately became friends, but i’ve never seen him like this.”

“really hoping you mean that in a good way.”

“don’t worry, it is. you know… he only has a soft spot for you. the three of us are his best friends but he only ever smiles like that with you.” he sways his head back and forth as he rambles, taking a pause between his words. “stay with him. it’ll be good for everyone.”

you smile at his approval, “you wanna know something? he actually said you would be the hardest to win over. he said something about you being super protective over your friends… yet, at the same time you trust their judgement. he told me that when he and i got together, he wasn’t scared to tell you but more worried as to if you would like me.”

he smiles with you now, “that all he said about me?” he asks while raising his eyebrows in curiosity.

“he also mentioned that you’re a good cook.”

viii. proud

a professor of yours is holding their annual spring showcase for contemporary art. every year, a handful of students are chosen to join and display their art amongst other renowned artists. you happen to be one of the few, a top contender chosen for your abilities.

you’ve invited your friends, including en-4 to come by the studio and see your work—albeit a bit nervous for their reactions. you stand on watch by your section, greeting the patrons and waiting for the boys to arrive.

thankfully, they show up within the first hour of the gallery opening. they each show up looking professional and chic, sporting all-black fits—most likely at the hands of jay. sunghoon immediately finding you and leading the way for the rest. you welcome them in, explaining your collection, the concentration being “vulnerability.” the works are a mix of several mediums, majority being oil paint, each displaying a closeup of various people. the paintings show their bare faces, imperfections and blemishes with nothing to hide.

the night continues with more and more passing by, complimenting your collection. by the time the exhibition ends, you and sunghoon are the only ones left in the studio. he’s stayed in the same spot, eyeing one piece incredibly closely. throughout the entire showcase, he had kept going back to the one canvas. you join his side, linking your arm with his. “this one is my favorite,” you hear him say.

you look up to meet his eyes, “why this one?”

“because…  it’s you.” you takes your arm out and moves to stand behind you, now wrapping himself around you and resting his chin in the crook of your neck. he holds your hands in his, “i am so proud of you. times like this, i am proud to call you my best friend.” he turns his head, kissing you once on your jaw, and then pulling slightly back to kiss you again on the cheek.

you turn around, hugging him closer with your arms around his shoulders, “thank you.” you hold each other for a few minutes. when you pull away, you lock eyes. you feel your heart beating against your chest and your breathing getting faster. you snap back to reality when you feel sunghoon’s lips on yours. you’re not sure why you tangle your fingers in his hair and kiss him back or why he grabs onto your waist while backing you into the wall. he continues placing pecks on the corner of you lips, creating a trail down to your neck. when you let out a sigh and say his name, he stops. there he stands, a few feet in front of you, awkward and unsure of what to do next.

he breaks the silence, “it’s late. i should drive you back home.” he watches as you slowly nod your head. the drive back to your apartment was dead silent. you tried to occupy yourself by looking out the window.

when he drops you off, he bids you a quick goodnight. “um… text me when you get back home.” sunghoon just looks forward, muttering “ok” before leaving.

in the elevator, you look at your reflection on the metal doors. you make your way inside your place and take a seat on your bed. your mind is too busy reliving the moments with sunghoon before. you try to comprehend what you should do but find yourself too tired, instead falling asleep and missing his text.

ix. spring break

it’s currently the middle of april and the boys have made you an honorary member of en-4. you and sunghoon have been pretending to be a couple and successfully tricking everyone for the last four months.

everyone has the week off for spring break. jay, being the generous guy he is, rented out a cabin in the mountains for the now five members of your friend group. you all rode in one car on the way up, and you totally didn’t fall asleep in the middle seat while cuddling into sunghoon’s side. 

you all decide to settle into your rooms once you arrive. “so there are four rooms, two downstairs and two upstairs.” jay pauses, looking towards you and sunghoon, “i assume that you’ll be fine sharing one.”

you immediately answer, “yeah, for sure.” you look to see sunghoon avoiding your gaze, sensing knowing looks from the others. sunghoon and you already guessed that they would make the two of you share a room and truthfully, neither of you minded. growing up together meant a lot of sleepovers and sharing beds so this was no problem.

he continues on, “great, you guys can take the master bedroom on the second floor cause it has the most space. i’ll take the room next to you, heeseung and jake can take the two down here.”

everyone agrees and sets off to their assigned rooms. you and sunghoon drop your bags onto the mattress, starting to unpack. the interior is spacious, the tall glass sliding doors allow lots of natural light to come in. the room itself is cozy, king size bed with matching bedside tables, and a big fluffy area rug. you’re too distracted to notice that sunghoon has gone outside to the balcony. he leans against the railing, taking in the scenic views and the breeze, basking in the setting rust-colored sun. when you finally realize that he’s not next to you anymore, you silently make you way onto the balcony, wrapping your arms around sunghoon from behind.

he tenses up at the sudden contact, relaxing when he realizes it’s you. there it is again, his heart is acting up like at the diner. he’s noticed it more often—the way that whenever he sees you, his heart beats differently. this weird feeling in his chest, this warmth that only shows up around you. he gets lost in his thoughts, envisioning what could become of your situation.

“what’s got you so lost?”

your voice snaps him back to reality. he turns around to face you, “uh… nothing, just thinking.”

just when you want to question him further and talk about what happened at the showcase, a knock is heard on the door. sunghoon walks away, going to open the door. both of you can feel the awkward tension when he leaves his spot. 

“hey, we’re kinda hungry so we’re gonna order some food and watch a movie downstairs,” jake informs you two when the door opens. “feel free to come down and join whenever.”

“yeah, we’ll be down in a bit,” sunghoon tells him as heeseung nods before leaving you two alone again. you both finish getting settled before heading downstairs. you gather around the couch as ponyo plays on the tv and you reach for a tray of sushi. 

the night continues, the moon sitting high amongst the stars. after the movie, dinner, and some drinking games, everyone retires to their respective rooms. you plop yourself onto the bed, tired after the day’s activities. you hear sunghoon getting something from his bag along with the rustling of some plastic. you crane your head up to see him approaching you. he sits on the edge of the bed, now with fluffy headbands and face masks in hand.

you scoot back a bit, “nope. no way you are getting me to do that.”

he laughs lightly at your antics, “oh come on… let me take care of you, at least just for tonight. please.” he gives you a pleading look with pursed lips, dragging out the “please” to show how desperate he is. 

that was the deciding point that led to a spa night. you both changed into comfier clothes, you borrowed one of his hoodies and sweatpants. sunghoon got settled in closer to you and you reached for his wrist to grab one of the elastic bands. you adjusted your position to sit on your knees, reaching up to tie his hair back. he, on the other hand, took one of the headbands to bring your hair back and away from your face. 

by the time midnight rolled around, you two were snuggled under the comforter with face masks, surrounded by junk food, and on the fourth episode of some random netflix show. as the night continues, a wave of sleep starts to overtake both of you. you help each other take off the masks and clean up, getting distracted every few minutes because one of you would start messing around. the boys had stopped by to say goodnight, catching you two in the middle of a mild pillow fight. after sending them off, you fall asleep in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth of your shared embrace. heeseung had snuck in at one point and stole a few quick pictures to tease you two with.

the dawn breaking through the sheer curtains causes you to stir in bed. you turn to see the alarm clock on the nightstand say 6:02. untangling yourself from sunghoon’s grasp, you sneak outside. you climb up to sit on the rooftop, feeling the cool chill of the dewy morning. the time alone gives you a sense of serenity.

meanwhile, sunghoon moves under the covers, confused why he can’t feel you. his eyes open and he doesn’t find a trace of you in the room. worried, he gets up and quietly searches the house, making sure to not wake the others. he goes into the backyard, seeing a shadow on the ground with an unusual shape. he looks up to find you perched on the roof, facing the opposite direction. he eventually climbs up to sit next to you. he hesitates before getting closer and putting his arm around you. you sigh as you lean into him. there you both stay, watching the sun come over the horizon in a comfortable silence.

x. disaster averted

the following week, you all return to campus. needless to say, the break was well used—the days at the cabin mostly being spent at the lake or around the campfire. another day spent hanging out at en-4’s dorm after classes. sunghoon went out to pick up food for everyone. you are in his room, trying to cram for an upcoming test and failing miserably because the other three are all playing fifa way too loud.

while the boys are playing, the doorbell rings. jay gets up to check who it is, seeing a young girl and immediately recognizing her. he lets in yeji, sunghoon’s little sister. she casually joins the boys around the tv, catching up on whatever has been happening in their lives. sunghoon arrives back home within twenty minutes. 

“i’m back with the food,” he shouts out loud enough for everyone to hear including you behind his closed bedroom door. he places the plastic bags on the table, looking up to see another face. “yeji? what are you doing here?”

she gets up to greet her brother, giving him a hug, “it’s my spring break and i wanted to stop by.” sunghoon then realizes that his family doesn’t know about him becoming friends with you again or about your current situation. he drags her into the kitchen hurriedly, “ok so here’s the thing… you remember y/n?”

“of course! she’s like my big sister.”

his breath gets caught in his throat for a second, “yeah, don’t call her that. anyways, her and i are friends again,” he sees yeji’s eyes widen with excitement and continues with his explanation before she can cut him off, “and she’s my girlfriend.”

“what?!”

sunghoon panics and covers her mouth with his palm, “fake girlfriend!” he rushes out the whisper. “the guys don’t know that our relationship isn’t real and i’d like to keep it that way. they don’t even know that we were friends beforehand. yeji, i’m begging you to go along with it. please do this for me.” he clasps his hands together in front of him with a pleading expression.

the young girl crosses her arms in front of her and pretends to think about it, “hmm… fine.”

sunghoon blurts out a chant of “thank you’s” not knowing that his sister only agreed cause she always thought that you and sunghoon would’ve been a good couple. he tells her to help the others set the table while he goes to you. he quickly explains what’s happening and you’re just excited that you get to see yeji again. you both leave his room and you make your own way to the living room, spotting the other girl and exchanging glances.

yeji stops what she’s doing to turn and face you, “who’s this?”

you answer back casually, “y/n. i’m a friend of the boys, and you are?”

“yeji, sunghoon’s younger sister.” she says it proudly, bringing a grin to the aforementioned boy.

“oh, you’re yeji? hoon was right… you are pretty.”

she tilts her head and cocks an eyebrow, questioning you “why would he tell you about me?”

jake chimes in like it’s second nature, “i mean, why wouldn’t he tell his girlfriend about his sister?” he states like it’s so obvious. “they’ve been together since december.”

“girlfriend?” she takes a step back in false shock, “since december? why didn’t i know about this?” 

“what? i don’t seem like your brother’s type?”

“it’s not that. i’m just surprised he managed to get and keep a girlfriend. you’re like, way out of his league and he’s a loser.” one thing to know about yeji is that as much as she loves him, she will never miss a chance to tease her brother. 

with a scoff, you finally hear sunghoon join in beside you, “not gonna lie, that one hurt a little.”

“i’m so telling mom,” she says with a mischievous smirk.

you laugh at sunghoon’s shocked face and smile at the younger park, “i like you, i think we’ll get along just fine.”

“i like you, too.” she looks at sunghoon, “keep her.”

everyone laughs at the interaction as they settle in to eat. sunghoon sits to your right while yeji sits on your left, wondering how his two favorite girls learned to be such good actresses.

xi. returning the favor

fast forward another month, the end of the semester means the dreaded finals week again. sunghoon has been, for lack of a better word, slacking on some of his classes and is now juggling to prepare for exams and revisions. couple that with yeji telling his mom about your “relationship” and her nonstop questions, all of this stress has been piled on. this all amounting to him getting sick. 

now, sunghoon being sunghoon means that he pushed everyone away and hasn’t told you about his condition. luckily for him, you’ve been cooped up in your studio trying to finish your portfolio and also prepare for your exams. unluckily for him, the boys have gotten worried and heeseung called you. 

which brings us to the present, sunghoon stuck in bed with a fever, congestion, and neglected notes. a knock on his door does nothing to help his headache but seeing your face meekly peek in makes him relax. “what are you doing here?” he asks hoarsely.

“did you really think i wouldn’t find out?”

he avoids your glare, “i didn’t want you to worry.”

“honestly i’m not upset that you’re sick, but that i had to hear it from your roommates.” you come closer to him, clearing out the scattered papers and textbooks from atop his bed. you sit on the edge, taking out some medicine and cooling packs that you picked up from the convenience store.

“you really don’t have to do this,” he twiddles his fingers in embarrassment.

you tie back his hair and place one of the packs on his forehead, “you’ve always been the one taking care of me, so i might as well return the favor.” 

you busy yourself with getting the cough medicine ready and sunghoon takes an actual look at you. he notices that you’re wearing his old skating jacket, the same one he gave you at your high school graduation. he makes more room under the covers, allowing you to come closer and lay next to him. he drapes one arm over you and holds onto the end of the jacket sleeve, “i can’t believe you kept this.”

“we stopped hanging out and we weren’t in each other’s lives for a year and a half after being together basically since birth,” you pause, a little saddened thinking back. “this was the last thing i ever got from you. it’s all i had left.”

he brings you closer, neither of you caring if you got sick. “well… now you have me again. for good.”

xii. the party

the end of the school year has finally arrived. some seniors from the txt frat are hosting a big party to celebrate. of course, en-4 was invited—mostly thanks to heeseung being close with them. although you have made more friends and now have a more active social life, parties are still not your thing. 

yet, much to your dismay, being friends with designated party people means that you’re getting bombarded with pleas to go regardless. sunghoon took the lead on convincing you, “please, i promise that it’ll be fun.” the boys join in, their voices overlapping. sunghoon practically tackles you onto your couch while pouting and furrowing his eyebrows in desperation.

“stop looking at me like that. i can’t think properly when you do that.”

right on cue, the boys start to tease you. jay clears his throat and jake makes kissing noises, meanwhile heeseung starts singing y/n and sunghoon sitting in a tree… while you just glare at them.

“if i say i’ll go, will you all leave me alone?” 

they all shout “yes” in unison. which is how you ended up at the crowded frat house. although they had begged you to come, they practically abandon you and sunghoon when you get there. jake had yelled back to you that his friend sunoo from his econ class called them over for beer pong.

you and sunghoon find a big bean bag in the corner and stay there for a bit. he offers to get you both some drinks and leaves to the kitchen. you’re not sure how long he’s gone but you eventually get uncomfortable. you start wandering the house for some space to get some air. you find an empty room and make your way into the connected bathroom to wash your face. you take some deep breaths, then realizing that you didn’t tell sunghoon. as you’re about to step out, he enters the room.

“i figured you would want some space.”

“how’d you know where i was?”

he comes up closer to you, “in the sea of people, in this mess, in this frenzy… i will always find you. no matter what happens or who comes into my life, i always find my way back to you.”

“what the hell is that even supposed to mean, park?”

“i mean…” he stops to compose himself, “oh for fucks sake, i’m tired of this being pretend. i’m tired of being allowed to call you my girlfriend in public but not treat you like it in private. when i kissed you at the showcase, i had wanted to do that for so long, and i’ve been wanting to do even more.”

“sunghoon, look-”

“wait, i’m not done. what i’m trying to say is that i want you to be my girlfriend, for real this time—not as a joke, not as a trick. i want us to be together as an actual couple because i like you, a lot more than you could believe-”

you cut him off this time, kissing him like he did all those weeks ago. you kissed him in the way that you weren’t sure what words to say other than, “i would love to be your girlfriend.”

sunghoon shines with the biggest smile, picking you up and spinning around. when he lets you down, he incessantly leaves pecks all over your face. he holds you close, “now, how about we go enjoy the party?”

you nod and lead him hand in hand towards the door. you turn the nob, only to have the three remaining members of your friend group fall at your feet. heeseung landing on top, shouting out, “i fucking knew it!”