#this takes precedence over my homework

[stardrop4abigail]

hey little girl, would you like to be the king's pet or the king?

shiv roy // wild creatures by neko case

(first time editing on premiere pro lol)

[mxltifxnd0m]

working on sub! sam headcanons instead of my hw

this is probably going to be an average friday for me LOLL

[skylin-files]

girl code ⋆ na jaemin

pov: your best friend's former situationship started hitting you up. what could go wrong?

pairing: college student!jaemin x college student! yn

featuring! winter of aespa, nct members

note: this is my first work here. there will be three parts; this is part one. i hope you like it; your comments will be highly appreciated. ♡

check part two here: part 2 | part 3 (final)

── .✦

You and Winter have been best friends for as long as you can remember, inseparable since high school. Back then, you were the duo everyone recognized, always having each other’s backs. But now, in college, life has taken you to separate universities.

You’ve remained a consistent dean's lister and an active member of the campus newspaper, carrying the title of "no boyfriend since birth." Your focus has always been on academics, firmly believing that boys would only be a distraction.

Winter, on the other hand, has been part of her university’s cheer team since her freshman year. For her, cheer takes precedence over academics, and she’s had more talking stages than actual relationships. She’s the embodiment of "pretty privilege."

A classic pair of opposites, perhaps a little cliché. Despite your differences, your bond has always been unbreakable—until a boy enters the picture.

Speaking of the boy, there’s Jaemin, Na Jaemin.

“Na Jaemin!�� Jeno, Jaemin’s best friend, yells from outside his apartment, accompanied by the relentless blaring of his car horn.

“I’m not leaving until you open the damn door, Jaemin!” Jeno laughs, still pressing the horn.

“Are you insane? It’s almost midnight. Stop honking the car,” Jaemin grumbles over the phone, peering out his window to spot Jeno grinning, clearly amused. Jaemin shakes his head, slipping on his jacket and grabbing his keys before heading out.

“What took you so long? I told you we’re going to Johnny’s party. You don’t have a say in this,” Jeno remarks as Jaemin climbs into the car. “What were you doing anyway?” he adds.

Jaemin takes a moment, lighting a cigarette before replying, “Homework.”

── .✦

“He looks good—flawless. God’s favorite child,” Winter remarks, scrolling through Instagram as she admires a boy on her screen.

“Who?” you ask, leaning in curiously.

“Oh, just my failed talking stage,” Winter replies casually.

“It’s a failed talking stage for a reason, yet you’re still simping over him,” you tease with a smirk.

“You should get a boyfriend,” you suggest for the thousandth time, genuinely concerned by the growing list of Winter’s failed talking stages and situationships.

“No, you’re the one who needs a boyfriend,” Winter fires back.

“No boyfriend in high school, and now we’re in college, still no boyfriend!” she complains dramatically. You roll your eyes, amused by her antics.

“Boys would do me no good,” you counter.

“Yeah? What about Mark and Haechan?” Winter quips, referencing the two boys you’ve been close to since the start of college.

“They’re different—exceptions,” you retort firmly.

“Whatever,” Winter mutters, waving you off.

── .✦

As the typical college student you are, you decided to pull an all-nighter. Currently on a Discord call with your college friends, Mark and Haechan, what was meant to be a study session had derailed—Mark was already fast asleep, lost in his dreams.

While typing up a draft for an article for your campus newspaper and listening to Haechan’s playlist, your phone buzzed with a text from Winter.

Winter: “Please pick me up. I’m at the local club near your university.”

You frowned, puzzled as to why Winter was partying near your campus and not somewhere closer to her own. A quick glance at the clock showed it was already 2:00 a.m.

“I stayed up all night to be productive, not to fetch an alcoholic from a club,” you muttered under your breath. Still, you knew you couldn’t leave Winter stranded, so you began saying goodbye to Haechan. Winter could be a handful, but you weren’t about to let her fend for herself.

“Want me to come with you?” Haechan offered as you started to log off. “It’s late, and I don’t mind. We can just leave Mark here,” he added, the two of you laughing at Mark’s sleeping figure still visible on the screen.

“Sure, so are you driving?” you teased.

Haechan rolled his eyes playfully. “Yeah, yeah, like I have a choice,” he quipped, grabbing his keys.

── .✦

You felt the strange stares as you walked into the club, clad in a hoodie and sweats, phone pressed to your ear as you called your best friend. The line was picked up almost instantly.

"Winter, where are you?" you asked, only to hear a man’s voice reply.

"This isn’t Winter," he said.

"Who are you? Where’s Winter?"

"Smoking area. Come quick," he answered before hanging up, leaving you no time to respond.

When you reached the smoking area, you were greeted by the sight of Winter hunched over, puking. Beside her stood a boy casually scrolling through his phone, holding her bag like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Winter!" you called, drawing the boy’s attention.

"It’s a school night," you muttered in frustration, moving to help your best friend.

"Right," the boy murmured, barely audible but clear enough for you to hear.

"I ran into her inside," he explained, finally looking up from his phone. "She said she felt like she was going to throw up."

You froze momentarily, caught off guard by his appearance. He looked good—like God’s favorite child, visuals with no imperfection in sight.

"Do you two know each other?" you asked, not directing the question at anyone in particular.

"Yes!" Winter chimed in, her voice still tipsy.

The two of you exchanged a glance as Winter wiped her mouth, straightened up, and grinned as if she hadn’t just been throwing up moments ago—far from her usual composed self.

"Please take me home," Winter slurred, swaying slightly.

── .✦

“Who’s that?” Haechan asked, leaning casually against his car as he spotted you and Winter, who was currently being carried by an unfamiliar boy.

You shrugged. “No idea, but apparently, they know each other.”

“He looks fine,” Haechan remarked, his eyes trailing over the boy. You couldn’t argue with that, but you stayed quiet.

The boy gently helped Winter into Haechan’s car, her giggles filling the air as she pinched his cheek. Haechan grimaced at the interaction.

“Stop being a hater,” you said, nudging Haechan lightly.

Turning your attention to Winter, you asked, “Are you okay? Do you need water?”

Winter cooed dramatically, “You’re such a sweetheart!” Her voice was loud enough to make you, Haechan, and the boy flinch simultaneously.

Winter’s attention shifted back to the boy as she poked his cheek. “You’re a sweetheart too. You should date my best friend,” she said, her words slurring slightly.

Haechan snorted at the comment. “She’s been single since forever,” Winter added with no filter, causing Haechan to burst out laughing.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Shut up,” you muttered, placing Winter’s bag beside her in the car.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, which didn’t escape the boy’s notice as he smiled at the scene. His smile didn’t go unnoticed by you either.

── .✦

“Where were you?” Jeno exclaimed as he approached Jaemin outside the local club. Jaemin flicked his half-smoked cigarette into the trash as Jeno arrived.

“I ran into Winter,” Jaemin replied casually, prompting a frown from Jeno.

“Winter? As in Winter, your former... situationship?” Jeno asked, his tone laced with curiosity. Jaemin nodded in confirmation.

“Good thing her friend showed up to pick her up,” Jaemin added, earning an understanding nod from Jeno.

“You're lucky because if her friend hadn't shown up, you’d probably have been the one stuck taking her home,” Jeno teased with a chuckle.

Jaemin nodded. “Exactly what I was trying to avoid. You know I don’t want to have anything to do with Winter anymore.”

── .✦

It was just another day on campus when you entered the lab room, which was unusually crowded as your professor had combined your class with another.

“I wonder who my lab partner will be. Will I be paired with someone from the other class?” you mutter as you sat down and got comfortable, but almost immediately, a voice from beside you interrupted.

“Is this seat taken?” a deep voice asked.

Looking up, you were met with a familiar face—the same guy from last night, the one you suspected knew Winter. Once again, you were struck by his looks. He seemed even more handsome now, his features more defined under the bright lighting.

“Oh, it’s you,” the guy said, sitting down next to you without waiting for you response, his neutral expression replaced by a playful smile.

“I didn’t say the seat was free,” you remarked, watching as he settled into the chair.

He ignored your comment, instead glancing at your university ID. After reading your name, he wrote your name and his on a piece of paper.

“What are you doing?” You asked, watching him scribble.

The boy gestured toward the whiteboard at the front of the room, where it read:

"Look for a lab partner—by pair only! Write your and your partner's name on a sheet of paper. " You were momentarily taken aback as he casually wrote your name next to his on the paper, "Na Jaemin," it read, before standing up from his seat and walking to the front of the class to submit it.

As Jaemin walked back to his seat, you felt your cheeks flush for no apparent reason. Clearing your throat, you muttered softly, "I guess we're lab partners now."

Jaemin sat down and glanced at you, his head tilting slightly as a charming smirk appeared on his face. He thought your sudden shyness, which wasn’t there when you were picking up Winter, was quite adorable.

"I guess we are," he says, his smile widening slightly as he looks at you.

This was definitely going to be an interesting lab class for Na Jaemin.

[daemour]

Pairing: roommate! San x f! yn

Word Count: 10,664

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, smut warnings under cut

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, f2l au, college au, M for mature audiences

Summary: As the resident fuckboy San's best friend, you're legally obligated to be his hype man. It's only fitting as you're one of the few who can resist his boyish charms. But when he's set his sights on someone you cannot stand, perhaps you need to dig a bit deeper into your feelings after all.

Smut Warnings: masturbation (f), voyeurism, sexual fantasies, oral (f), missionary, protected sex, very slight breast play, overstimulation, cowgirl, some cumplay, dirty dirty talk, fingering, slight body worship ig?, praise, I literally have no idea I wrote it at a time when I should've been in bed so lmk if I missed anything

-

this is for the jackson wang party fic collab finished with @mingsolo (hella good) @flurrys-creativity (Pygalgia, Effervescent, and Abience) and @sanjoongie (trouble) <3 I still have one more to go but we'll ignore that LMAOOOOO I added too much plot :') flurry was a dear and helped me sort out my thoughts and I managed to write 8k of it in one day lol.

hope u all enjoy and sorry I'm a professional yapper there's no shutting me up

“Going out again?” you ask your best friend and flatmate, San, as he walks past where you’re seated at the kitchen counter, suffering through your essays.

“Yep,” San answers easily, popping the ‘p’ and leaning over to take a peek at your laptop screen. “You misspelt ‘dextrorotatory’, you wrote it as ‘dexrotatory’.”

As your eyes find the typo, you groan and plant your head on the table. “I give up,” you declare dramatically, “I’ll drop out and become a taxi driver.”

San laughs. “First of all, you can’t drive that well. Second of all, you’d make more money as a stripper.” He dodges your smack with ease. “Third, you’re smart and you’ll ace these like always. You’re just a little mentally constipated. Why don’t you join me tonight?”

You think about it for a minute. While you probably do need a break from staring at your laptop, you know how wild the parties San goes to can get from personal experience. And you don’t think it’s a good idea when it's the end of your semester and the final year of your master's program. You just can’t afford to do that. “I’ll pass this time,” you sigh. “Maybe after exam season.”

San hums. “All right. Make sure to take a break, though,” he reminds you, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head. “See you later.”

He soon disappears out of the door and you turn your focus away from your best friend to your homework. You feel bad for whoever his new conquest will be at the party.

In your opinion, it’s best to keep San at arm’s length when it comes to a romantic relationship. Not that you like him, but you also don’t want to be another notch on his bedpost, and you most certainly do not want to ruin your eight-year-long friendship. It’s not hard to see that San isn’t interested in a long relationship, not right now at least.

You honestly find it amusing that so many girls and guys still throw themselves at him and then get upset when he doesn’t give them a second glance after the initial night. His reputation precedes him, especially in your small town, and yet there will always be a line out the door for him. You don’t even know how he knows so many people.

With a sigh, you clear out your thoughts and refocus on your organic chemistry work. You’re lucky your job offered to pay for your master's classes, but the workload is killing you inside. You’re incredibly happy you’re almost done, and with newfound motivation, you hunker down and start writing out your notes again.

It’s almost two in the morning when you finally yawn and start putting your books away, and it’s almost three when you hear the front door open and the sound of San stumbling into the shoe rack as he always does. “You’re home already, Sanah?”

“YN!” San stumbles his way into the bathroom where you’re combing your hair, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his flushed face into your neck. “You’re still up?”

You laugh, tapping him on the head with your brush. “Yes, but I’m about to go to bed. And you should too, you know.”

San groans, his hold on your waist tightening and his words slurring together. “I don’t wanna,” he whines, “the bed's too cold.”

You sigh fondly. This happens almost every time he drinks, and usually, that’s why he doesn’t drink too much when he’s by himself. He gets too cuddly with people and you’re usually the one to keep him from bedding everyone he sees.  You suppose he somehow didn’t end up with anyone in bed and he’s disappointed now. “Do you think you’ll ever ask to sleep with me nicely, or will you just settle for wrestle-cuddling me into my own bed?” you ask, rolling your eyes as San does not answer, just pulling you towards your room. “There’s my answer.”

You’re too used to his drunk antics and just let him move you around. It’s comforting in a way, that he’s comfortable enough around you to do this with you, and it makes your heart warm whenever he throws his arm around you and presses his face in your neck.

You’d never admit it, but it’s nights like this when you sleep the best. With his warm breath tickling your neck, you let your body relax and your eyes flutter shut.

-

“God, I’ve got a raging headache,” San groans when he sees you enter the kitchen with a mess of bed hair. “I went so crazy with the soju last night, I think I’m going to die.”

You laugh, reaching for the pot to make some oatmeal for him. “Don’t be so dramatic. Why did you even drink so much anyway? No bitches?”

San snorts but immediately whines from the sharp pain that probably shot through his skull. “You’re so mean to me! No, I got no bitches, but that was from my own choice anyway. I don’t want to fuck around anymore.”

Both your eyebrows raise into your hairline. “No? What changed things, hm? Finally decided your one true love is Byeol?” As if on cue, your shared cat meows and curls around your ankles, and you bend down to scratch behind her ears.

“Never had to decide that, we all know she’s the real number one in my life. No, I think I’m interested in someone.” You stop your petting of Byeol, who meows in protest and runs off to pout somewhere. “Come on, don’t act like you just saw a ghost.”

“Who?” is the only question that comes out of your mouth. Of course, San has had a crush before, but he’s never stopped screwing around unless he was actively dating that person. He’s a fuckboy, but he’s not a piece of shit at least. This is new.

“Lee Yeseul. I met her yesterday at the party, and she’s so sweet. She was so out of place at the party, and not in a mean way. She just…has such an aura around her.” San’s voice is soft even just talking about her and you get the feeling he’s being serious. “We’re meeting up for coffee today.”

“That’s…amazing, Sanah. I really hope it goes well for you,” you smile at him, pushing a bowl of oatmeal over to him. “Don’t forget to let me make a speech at your wedding.”

San chuckles, rolling his eyes at your jokes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have study group today? Go there and stop bothering me.”

You ruffle his messy hair before planting a kiss on it and pinching his cheek. He blindly reaches around to smack at you but you dodge him easily, laughing as you head out to grab your keys. “See you later, Sanah. Have a good da-ate.”

San grumbles at you but ultimately returns to his food. You think you can hear him muttering about you being a pain in the ass and you smile to yourself. You don’t have the heart to tell him you know Lee Yeseul…and she’s a major bitch. You sincerely hope she’s sweet to San at least—he deserves the best. But you find her absolutely draining, especially with how often she talks about herself and doesn’t pay attention to anyone else ever. If she cries in your class one more time you think you might smack her yourself.

You still remember the time you had gotten a call that your grandfather had died, and after overhearing your conversation, instead of comforting you, she started talking about how “so many of my family members died in the past ten years.” Sure, maybe she was trying, but you’ve known about her antics enough that it was clear she just wanted to make it about her.

But if San likes her, who are you to interfere? He has a pretty good eye for who has a good personality so maybe Yeseul has changed. You’re not one to stop him. Not that you ever could. When he first started going out to party, you would tag along to make sure he wouldn’t make any bad decisions, but your efforts seldom paid off. You’re pretty sure he must be blessed since he somehow hadn’t pissed off anyone majorly enough to have them call a hit on him.

Shaking your head, you rid yourself of these thoughts and go to the library. There’s no use dwelling on it, the more you think about it, the worse your feeling about his crush on Yeseul gets. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t need you to parent him.

“Woah, who pissed in your cereal?” You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to hide your bad mood from your study buddy, Hongjoong. Although you only see him for studying, you’re confident enough to call him your closest friend other than San. “Are you okay?”

You sigh, dropping your books on the table. It earns you a harsh ‘shh’ from the librarian which you apologise half-heartedly for. “Do you remember Yeseul? Lee Yeseul?”

Hongjoong’s brows raise high into his hairline. “The professional bitcher? What did she do now?”

“San’s into her, and with her personality, she’s probably loving the attention from the professional heartbreaker.” You groan, glaring at the cover of your organic chemistry textbook. “It’s none of my business if he cares for her, but damn, I wish he could’ve picked anyone else.”

Hongjoong hums, leaning forward and poking at the top of your head. “Look, you’ve been his friend for years. I think you have a bit more of a reason to poke your nose into his business than most. Give it a few weeks, and if it truly bothers you, then you can bring it up to San.”

You sigh. “Maybe.” You say nothing else on the topic and Hongjoong knows not to broach it anymore. Sometimes you wish he wasn’t so smart.

-

“YN, I didn’t know you knew Yeseul!” is the first thing San says to you one week after he returns from one of his many dates with her. “When I mentioned you being my roommate she told me you were in the same class as her.”

You wince to yourself as you take a long swig of your coffee. “Mmh, I didn’t think it was that relevant,” you say. You can practically hear Hongjoong rolling his eyes at your excuse. You know you should tell him your qualms about Yeseul, especially since the gross feeling in your gut has only gotten stronger. But you’re not sure you want to tread those waters. San’s sweet, but he’s loyal to a fault and probably wouldn’t like you talking badly about Yeseul.

San narrows his eyes, clearly suspicious but not willing to pry. “Well, maybe if we ever find you a date, we can go on a double date.” He moves on pretty quickly, though, walking over to lean over your shoulder and look at your laptop. “Still going on that paper?”

You hum, cracking your knuckles. “Yeah, it’s due tomorrow so I need to pump it out today and then get Hongjoong to look it over.” You lean back, letting your head rest on San’s torso as you yawn. “I can’t wait for this to be over so that I can graduate already.”

San laughs, leaning down to rest his chin on your head. “You’re smart. You can do this. And when you’re done, I’ll take you to a party and we can celebrate.”

You groan, shifting forward and putting your hands back on the keyboard. “Well, in that case, I should get back to writing this.” As you start typing again, you hear the buzzer ring and the warmth of San’s body leaves you as he goes to check who it is.

“Oh, hey, Yeseul! Come on up!” Your eyebrows raise into your hairline and your head snaps up. Why would Yeseul go to all this trouble of coming here? Didn’t they just see each other?

You close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths before facing the dragon herself. You can hear the tell-tale sound of her voice pitched up to sound more sweet, although it’s grown to be grating on your ears. “Hi, Sannie,” she purrs and you have to refrain from retching. “I was on my way home but I realised it went right by your apartment so I figured I could come say hi. It doesn’t look like you’re too busy, right?”

“No, not at all,” San replies, and you hate how sweetly he talks to her. “YN is in too, she’s writing her final paper. Wanna say hi? She could probably use the distraction.”

No, I don’t need the distraction, is what you want to scream out, but your mother did not raise you like that although you wish she did. Instead, you just smile politely at the girl entering your kitchen. “Hello, Yeseul. Good to see you again.”

“Hey, YNie!” Her cheery nickname for you has your eye twitching. “How’s the paper going? I finished mine a few weeks ago so I’m home free. Just need to submit it.”

“That’s great, Yeseul,” you say, tone slightly more monotonous than you wanted it to be and San shoots you a look. “Hopefully you get a good grade on it.”

“Hey, would you want to join us for dinner?” San cuts in and you can already feel a headache starting to pulse behind your eyes. “I was going to order pizza since it’s my turn today and I’m not nearly as good of a cook as YN.”

“Oh, that would be lovely! I don’t mind whatever toppings,” Yeseul claps happily. The urge to punch her in the face increases bit by bit for you. San nods happily, stepping out into the living room to place the call. After a moment, Yeseul turns to you with puppy eyes and you brace yourself for whatever she has up her sleeve. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water, YNie?”

You try your best to keep your composure as you get up to fetch her a glass of water. She takes it without even a thank you and you decide you’d much rather die than deal with her any longer so you close your laptop with a sigh. “I’m actually meeting with a friend for dinner, but you definitely should stay and have fun,” you say, smiling as plausibly as you can. You do not have dinner plans but you’re sure you can figure it out.

When you go into your room, you’re drawing blanks. You’re still going out, but you’ll probably just end up calling a friend to complain. As you leave the room and grab your keys, San meets eyes with you and frowns. “Where are you going?”

“Ah, I promised to have dinner with a friend so I’m heading out. Enjoy your time with Yeseul, though.”

The furrow between San’s brows deepens. “But I already ordered the pizza.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I can bring the leftovers tomorrow for lunch. Sorry, I just forgot to tell you, but I really have to go now. Bye!” Before he can say goodbye as well, you slip out the door. The suffocating feeling that is encompassing you lifts and you sigh in relief, but then you somehow feel worse at the idea of San and Yeseul having fun and giggling and cuddling.

You shake your head again, trying to clear your muddled thoughts before setting down to go find your dinner. Fast food was the easiest option, and you figured you could at least sit in your car and wallow in self-pity.

-

After you receive your order you park and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t want to call your family because as much as you love them, they can be a bit over-protective and probably will offer to help you find a different apartment and that would be a bit dramatic. In the end, Hongjoong is probably the next best option.

He doesn't pick up immediately, and you’re just about to hang up when the phone crackles and Hongjoong’s voice comes through. “Why are you calling me?”

You can’t help but bark out a laugh at his disgruntled tone. “Hongjoong, it’s a perfectly reasonable hour to call, don’t blame me for your shit sleeping schedule. Are you actually free though?”

Hongjoong sighs and if you focus you can hear the sound of him rolling over in bed. “What’s up?”

“It’s about Yeseul again. She came around today, and it was just…so suffocating. Like, why did San have to pick her? There’s so many girls, and out of them all he picks her? The most bitchy one I know?”

Hongjoong hums. “Why does it annoy you so much?”

You groan, leaning your head back and taking a long sip of your drink. “She’s self-centred, bitchy, and she’s just so fake. I don’t think this relationship will end well, Joong. Clearly he’s just blinded and she’s so manipulative.”

“But why are you so bothered by this specifically? I mean, sure we’ve had bad interactions with Yeseul, but you’re pretty nonchalant about the shit San gets up to and you like to let him deal with the consequences himself.”

You frown glaring at the phone although you know he can’t see it and you pop a fry into your mouth. “I don’t know. It just feels different. I feel like I should interfere this time. I mean, he’s a lot more serious this go around.”

Hongjoong hums, rolling once again as he yawns. “YN, be totally honest with me. This is a shot in the dark, but I think this is pretty important.” You hold your breath in anticipation. “Do you like San?”

“Oh sure, he’s a good friend–”

“You and I both know that’s not what I meant.” You bite your lip, stiffening in your chair. “YN, you need to be honest with yourself. The way you talk about San, you interact with him, it’s not how just roommates, just friends interact. You kiss each other's heads, YN. And it can be platonic, but I’ve rarely seen San do that to his female friends, and I’ve never seen you do that, period. You don’t even kiss me.” His voice turns teasing on the last bit but you’re too shocked to register.

Do you like San? You love him like a friend, of course. But when you think about him being with anyone else, even if it wasn’t Yeseul, something in you aches. When you think about San’s smile being directed to anyone else, you can feel a burning in your gut. The answer is clear, whether you like it or not.

“I…yes. I do.” The confession comes out quietly. “But I don’t want to do anything about it. Like you said, it’s up to San whether he likes Yeseul enough. I can’t interfere.”

You can practically hear the look Hongjoong would be levelling at you. “Why not?”

You shrug. “When San likes someone, nothing can stop him from liking someone unless he wants to. I’ll just let it run its course and hopefully my own feelings will vanish in the process.”

“That doesn’t sound very healthy, YN.”

You let out a despondent laugh. “Sure, probably not. But who knows? Maybe I can find someone else in the process.” You let out a sigh before glancing at your now-cold sandwich. “I gotta head out, but thanks for talking, Joong. I’ll see you in class.”

Hongjoong can barely say goodbye before you hang up the phone and lean back. This is going to be difficult. The more you see Yeseul, the more you know you’ll accidentally slip up and something will tip her and San off. Your headache is pulsing behind your eyes and you take a small bite of your sandwich, your appetite diminishing. You miss being a child and your biggest worry is that San sneezed on your lollipop.

With another groan, you wrap up the sandwich and just go for a late-night drive instead to clear your head. It’s something that has never failed to calm you down and keep your mind level. San always berates you for driving alone at night, but you’d like to say you’re pretty safe. Plus, even he has agreed that it’s pretty calming when—you frown, forcing thoughts of San to leave your brain.

You don’t really know how long you’ve been out, but it’s surely long enough that Yeseul has left. As you carefully open the door, there’s a long silence, and you sigh, happy you made it home free. But as you’re about to call out for San, you hear a high-pitched moan come from his bedroom. And it certainly is not San.

You almost turn tail and head right back out of the apartment when you hear San’s reverberating moans fill the house. Against your better judgment, you take off your shoes and step closer towards his bedroom. His bedroom door is cracked open and curse him for putting his mirror right in view where you can see him leaning back on his bed, his lower half hidden off the edge of it and you can only see Yeseul’s knees.

And in your head, you know it’s wrong. But your heart is beating out of your chest and you can feel heat building in your core. And, well, you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve. You keep yourself pressed against the wall, staring at the way the muscles in San’s neck strain and the way he moans with every snap of his hips. You’re sure your panties are soaked through by now, and your teeth sink into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet. The taste of copper enters your mouth but you couldn’t care less.

It’s only when San sits up, probably to fuck into Yeseul better and he disappears from the mirror that you rip yourself away and escape into your own room. Not another thought enters your brain as you strip your leggings and underwear off, flopping on your bed and closing your eyes as you let your hand trail down to press against your slick pussy. It doesn’t take long for you to sink your fingers into your sopping cunt, turning your head to bury your face into your pillow.

The guilt in the back of your mind is quickly sent away as you imagine San’s hands fucking you instead. He’s always had well-worn hands, and your brain fogs up as you imagine him leaning forward to mouth at your neck as he fucks you.

Your brain flips back and forth between the idea of him eating you out so well and fucking so many loads into you with his thick cock that your stomach swells and you whimper into your pillow as your core tightens and you come onto your fingers. You feel tears prick your eyes as you get up to wipe your hands of the cream coating your fingers and toss the tissue in the trash. You’re not sure how you’ll be able to face San or Yeseul again after that.

You can feel the shame burning inside of you and you close your eyes and cry yourself to sleep silently.

-

Waking up is disorienting, your eyes red-rimmed and your bottom lip raw and blood dried on it. You feel like death and you’re pretty sure you can’t attend class like this. You lean over and grab your phone, yawning as you send your professor a text with a weak excuse. You don’t really care how plausible it is, Professor Jeong usually is quite understanding so you don’t worry about that for too long. San had texted you an hour ago, asking if you had come home, and you choose not to answer it.

You can hear mumbling in the other room, probably Yeseul and San sharing goodbyes, when you hear the door shut behind her. Unlike you, she’s probably happy to go to class and tell all her friends about her night with the campus fuckboy.

It takes another thirty minutes for you to finally roll out of bed and put some lotion on your face, hoping for the traces of the questionable night you had to erase from your face. Once you’re satisfied with your appearance, you venture out into your living room where San is standing by the door. “When did you get back?” he asks without even turning around. “I texted you like, an hour ago.”

You shrug, avoiding his eyes as you move into the kitchen to find breakfast. “I only just woke up, San.”

Your roommate gives a short huff, following close behind you. “Don’t you have class? Yeseul just left so you could walk with her.”

You try not to roll your eyes at the idea of that. “I’m not feeling well so I don’t think I’ll go.” “You’re not feeling well?” San’s voice deepens in concern and as you grab a yoghurt, he places his hand atop your forehead. “You are feeling pretty warm.”

At his touch, too many memories of last night flood through your brain and you shake away his hand. “Yeah. I’ll just go lie down for a little. Have a good day.”

Before he can say anything else, or realise your suspicious behaviour, you dodge past him and head off back into your room to hide. “I left your pizza in the fridge,” he calls after you and you just grunt in thanks before barricading yourself in your room.

You lean against the door for a minute before you realise you didn’t even grab a spoon. Unwilling to go back out there, you’ve resigned yourself to licking it out of the container like a cat when you hear a gentle knock at the door.

“I got you a spoon,” San’s unsure voice filters through the wooden door, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Thanks, San,” you murmur, turning to open the door a crack and take the proffered utensil. “Sorry for being short with you.”

His lips quirk into a half-smile, a silent acceptance of your apology. “I get it. Just get some rest, YN.”

You close the door again, this time a warm heart in your chest mixing with the guilt you still feel in your gut. You’re not sure how on earth you’re going to get over your feelings for San.

-

Avoiding San goes well for the most part. You are in your finals week anyway, and you’re spending most of your time at the library or in class. Your college’s library stays open for 24 hours during the last week of school anyways so some nights you’ve just been staying there until morning. Hongjoong disapproves heavily but doesn’t say much about it and you appreciate his support either way.

Avoiding Yeseul proves much harder. She seems to always find her way to wherever you happen to be, interrupting you and Hongjoong’s study sessions with a perfect smile and narrowed eyes. You don’t know what she wants from you, and you aren’t pleased with her presence.

But one evening, you’re about to leave the library to have some dinner when she corners you. “YN, let’s talk,” she says in that sickeningly saccharine voice of hers, looping her arm into yours and pulling you down the street. “I have some things to ask you.”

Unwilling, you try to tug your arm out of her grasp, but the girl is stronger than you expected. She pulls you all the way to her dorm on campus, sitting you down on her leather couch. “What is your relationship with Choi San?”

Her question comes so suddenly you need a minute to register. To her credit, Yeseul waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts. “He’s my friend and roommate?” you say as truthfully as you can muster, although you know it’s an absolute lie, and judging from her expression, Yeseul doesn’t believe you either.

“Don’t take me as a fool, YN. The way he talks about you is undeniable.”

“That seems like something you should be talking to him about,” you say, attempting to get up from the couch but Yeseul just pushes you back down.

“I’ve tried. He just tells me there’s nothing to worry about and I don’t believe that,” Yeseul grits through her teeth.

And you have to give it to her. She did try to come to San about her worries. But the way she refuses to trust him grates on your nerves. He stopped his fuckboy activities to be with her, and yet she’s worried about you, one of the few girls who isn’t all over him at any moment. You arch a brow. “Do you not trust him?”

Yseul scoffs. “Of course not. He’s a fuckboy. But I like the status I get with him. I just don’t want to end up embarrassed.”

Well, that will be inevitable, you can’t help but think to yourself. No matter how much your relationship with San is strained, you’re not about to let Yeseul talk shit about him like he isn’t genuinely trying for her.

“That’s where you come into play,” Yeseul’s smirk turns sharp. “I’m going to call San. Ask him to choose between us. If he chooses you, then I want you to stay far, far away from him.”

You shrug. No matter the outcome, it’s not like you’re not already keeping your distance from San. In the end, you’ll just tell him to break up with her and let him deal with the chaos himself. “Go ahead,” bitch.

San picks up on the first ring. “Yeseul?” He’s cheery and your heart aches at the thought of Yeseul breaking his so easily. “What’s the occasion?”

“Hey, babe, I just have a quick question, and I need you to answer truthfully for me, okay?” At his pause, she takes that as a go-ahead. “Who would you pick? Me or YN.”

There’s a long silence on the phone. “Yeseul, we need to break up.”

Only one thing unites you and Yeseul in this moment, and it’s your shared confusion for San’s reaction. “What do you mean?” her voice turns panicked. “Isn’t that a little far?”

“You’ve been stuck on this, and I don’t know how much I have to reassure you, Yeseul. I haven’t even seen YN for the past two weeks. And she’s my closest friend. I’m not dropping her for a two-week relationship. I hope you have a good time, Yeseul.”

Before you can react at all, Yeseul screeches and points an accusing finger at you. “This is all your fault, YN!”

Your jaw drops at her absolute audacity. “My fault? What are you on? I was just trying to live peacefully when you dragged me into this plot ignoring my advice. I told you to talk to him, to just fucking trust him. God, you’re an idiot. And I’m going home.”

Without another word, you leave, still fuming over that interaction. Couldn’t she just have made the call without you? You’re happy you don’t have to do all the convincing for San to leave her, but that just complicates things for you. Would he really so easily drop Yeseul just for you? From what you’ve heard, he was practically head over heels for her.

With another sigh, you head back to the library. You need to finish that exam.

-

“Pens down, and turn in your exams,” you hear the professor call, and you don’t think you’ve ever gotten up so fast. You’re so, so fucking happy that you’ve finished your last year and now you’re free.

As soon as your professor accepts your paper you race out of the lecture hall, only stopped by the cafeteria when you hear someone call your name. Lee Juyeon, someone you’ve started growing closer to, waves you down. “Hey, YN, congrats on finishing!” he smiles at you and you can’t help but smile back, the giddiness contagious.

“Thanks! You too,” you say, pulling him into a hug. “It’s so nice to be done.” Practically nothing could dampen your mood, especially seeing Juyeon. He’s sweet, and you have an inkling he likes you. And you’re not opposed to it.

“It really is,” Juyeon agreed cheerfully. “Look, I have to go celebrate with my family, I just wanted to say hi. But hey…there’s this end of the year party on Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

And your suspicions were right. You think about it for a moment. You’re not the biggest party person, anyone knows that, but Juyeon is sweet and just what you need, so you accept eagerly. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to exchange numbers and for him to promise to send you more details before he runs off. And through your excitement, you know you still have to go meet with San who’s probably waiting for you just outside. He wanted to see you as soon as you finish your exams, and you didn’t have the heart to decline.

“Congratulations on finishing your last exam, YN!” San cheers as soon as you exit the college building. “I’m so proud of you!”

You’re too tired to complain when San sweeps you up into a hug, just letting yourself relax in his firm arms. After all this work, you think you’ll let yourself indulge in his affection. “Thanks, Sanah. I appreciate it.” You let your chin rest on his broad shoulder, closing your eyes and letting the exhaustion take over you. “Can I go to bed now?”

You hear him chuckle, the vibrations from his chest comforting you. “Yeah, yeah. We can celebrate later. Come on.”

He tugs you all the way to your apartment, dropping you on the couch and quickly curling right up next to you. You can’t bring yourself to care. “I’m proud of you,” he repeats into your hair as he tucks your head into his neck. Your eyes flutter shut.

When you reopen them, it’s bordering on evening. San is no longer wrapped around you, and you can hear him moving about in the kitchen. “San,” you call out, voice raspy from having just woken up. “What are you doing?”

“Ah, I’m making dinner,” he responds, his voice too warm for your liking, your heart beating just a little faster. “Come and eat.”

With a bit of difficulty, you rise from the couch and move to the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter. “Japchae? When did you learn how to cook this?”

San chuckles. “Wooyoung taught me the other day because he was bored. I figured it’d be a nice surprise for you after all your hard work.”

Your lips twitch, unsure if you should smile or pout. “That’s sweet. Thank you again, San.”

As you start eating the noodles (there’s a little too much sesame but you don’t have the heart to tell San that), San clears his throat. “So…I promised to take you to a party.”

You vaguely remember this conversation. “Ah, yeah. What did you have in mind?”

“There’s this end of the year party, it’s supposed to be the biggest one, hosted by Jackson Wang.”

“Ah–” you shake your head, eyes apologetic. “I promised someone else I’d go with them. I didn’t know that was the party you wanted to take me to. Maybe we can do something else on a different day?”

San’s lips turn downward the slightest bit. “That’s okay. There are other parties. Who invited you, by the way?” His tone is casual, and yet you still feel like you’re walking into the lion’s den.

“Ah, Lee Juyeon from college. I think he’s in Hongjoong’s philosophy department, but he’s a year behind. He’s cute so I figured I’d give it a try.”

“It’s a date?” Your brows furrow at the heaviness in San’s voice but you pay it no mind and nod. “I see. Well, have fun.”

The rest of the dinner is filled with silence, San picking at his food and you in no mood to try and dissect his mood. He takes your empty bowl and starts doing the dishes, and you mumble out a thank you before running back to your room. He’s clearly not willing to talk more and it’s best to give him space.

As you lay in bed, you can’t help but worry about what is so grating on his mind after you mentioned your date. You can’t think of anything that would cause him to be angry—as far as you’re aware he has no grudges against Lee Juyeon, much less met him. Shaking your head, you try and fall asleep. It’s best not to dwell on it, you can just ask him tomorrow.

-

It’s Saturday, and you’re in a foul mood. San hasn’t spoken to you in the four days leading up to the party, avoiding you like there’s no tomorrow. The only saving grace comes in the form of Juyeon’s excited texts, telling you all about his outfit for the party, and you respond with matching enthusiasm. When you meet with Juyeon in front of the large house where the party is held, the thought of San isn’t even on your mind. Instead, you just take Juyeon’s offered hand and follow him into the party.

You weave through the bodies, reaching the counter where shots are being passed around. “Want vodka or tequila?” Juyeon asks, his voice pitching higher to be heard over the bass. Without answering him, you just reach for the bottle of tequila, pouring the two of you shots. “Good choice,” Juyeon laughs, throwing his head back as he downs the alcohol, you following suit shortly.

“You know, I never pegged you for a college party fan,” you lean in, laughing. “Maybe I should hang out with you more.”

Juyeon chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Maybe you should. I know great party-throwers. Although I’ve heard you’ve been to your fair share, what being San’s friend and all.”

You shake your head, a smile on your face. “Maybe at first, but you know, organic chemistry isn’t an easy major to balance with a party life.”

Juyeon laughs loudly, bumping you with his hip. “I understand the pain. Philosophy falls into that category of majors too. Another shot?”

You take the second shot happily, letting the alcohol burn through your veins as you stumble alongside Juyeon’s wandering through the crowd. Whatever you’re doing is a blur, all you can focus on is Juyeon’s smile and his warm hand holding yours.

It feels like barely a moment has passed when Juyeon pulls you into a nearly empty room of couches, only a few other couples lingering in the corners. “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself,” Juyeon starts, his eyes sparkling as he takes in your appearance. “It’s been fun hanging out.”

“I did too,” you agree with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes.

He leans in, and you lean in, and your lips brush. It’s a sweet kiss, one that you lean into as Juyeon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s warm and you smile into it. And then a familiar face pops into your head. You wonder to yourself how San would kiss you, if he would do it as sweetly as Juyeon or if he would devour your lips like it was his last meal.

When Juyeon pulls away for air, you feel guilt burning in your stomach again. Why would you think of other men when Juyeon’s right here in front of you? As Juyeon leans in to kiss you again, you almost move back before a hand grips your shoulder and pulls you into a broad chest.

“Hey, man, I’m going to have to talk to YN if you don’t mind.” You’d recognise your best friend’s voice anywhere, and it only serves to fill you with annoyance. Sure, you weren’t as into Juyeon’s kisses as you expected, but it doesn’t mean you’re thrilled to be interrupted by the man who’s been ignoring you.

Juyeon takes one look at San, and something changes in his eyes. A mix of reluctance and acceptance, and with a short nod and smile towards you, he slips away from you. You turn to San, frowning at the sharpness in his narrowed eyes, not one you’re used to seeing or enjoy seeing. “Why would you kiss him?” he spits, and your annoyance grows with confusion being added to the mix.

“What do you mean, ‘why kiss him’? I told you, San, I was on a date. Why the fuck did you interrupt us?”

“I like you.” Those three words would be a dream for you to hear from his mouth…if you weren’t so pissed.

“No, fuck that. I do not need to hear that from you right now. Not when I was enjoying my night with Juyeon. What was confessing supposed to do for you, San? It’s too late now. I wanted to enjoy this party, and now I have to go apologise to Juyeon for you.” San opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head, pushing him away from you.

You leave San standing by himself as you search for Juyeon, your mood immediately souring. Why would he fucking do this to you? You can feel tears burning your eyelids and you abandon your search for Juyeon, searching instead for some liquor to take away your embarrassment.

As you pour yourself another shot of tequila, you notice a familiar face, Hongjoong talking to a girl you recognise as someone he hangs out with sometimes. They look like they’re getting it on and you feel a little bad, but you need his advice. “Hey, Kim Hongjoong!” you call out to him, waving him over. Hongjoong’s eyes brighten and he makes his way over, leaving the girl staring after him longingly, but her attention is soon taken away by two other guys. You recognise one of them from the cafeteria but you don’t remember his name.

“Hey, YN, what’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here, did San take you?” Your face falls and Hongjoong realises he stepped into dangerous territory. “Okay, what happened?”

-

“I can’t believe San is mad at me for kissing someone at the party,” you groan after explaining to Hongjoong the events leading up to now. “Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best move on my part but he’s had like, twenty million one-night stands, and yet I can’t kiss someone else? He hasn’t even talked to me after I mentioned going on a date. And yet he looked positively murderous after he saw me kissing that other guy.”

Hongjoong tilts his head, confused. “Isn’t that what you wanted, though? You like him.”

“I did! I do! But I’m so sick of waiting around for him, and I could’ve had a chance at liking someone else. He’s all over the place, and I don’t know if that’s what I want in a man.” You’re lying to both Hongjoong and yourself, and Hongjoong knows it, raising an eyebrow.

“Honestly, YN, it just sounds like you need to talk to him.” Hongjoong crosses his arms, tapping his foot and eager to back to the girl was with, but also not wanting to ditch you in your time of need. You feel a little bad for pulling him away, but your mind is swirling with so many thoughts, you don’t know if you can sort them out by yourself and drinking to erase those thoughts is not something you like to do. You’re not San.

And speak of the devil, you smell his familiar cologne before his hand lands on your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. You whirl around out of his grip and glare at him. “Get off me,” you snap. “I’m in the middle of a conversation right now, Choi San.”

With one glance at Hongjoong, he raises his hands and winks at you. “Have that talk, YN. It’ll do you more good than harm.”

Oh, you’re going to kill that traitor after the party. You turn your attention back to San, your mouth twisted into a frown. “You make this quick or else.”

San has the decency to look a little ashamed as his eyes shake. “Can we talk on the patio? It’s too loud in here.”

With a dramatic sigh, you grab his wrist and pull him through the crowd to the back door, practically slamming it behind you. You can see the eyes of people interested in the drama through the windows but you pay it no mind. “Speak. You get five minutes before I go back in and you don’t talk to me again for the rest of the night.”

San’s face falls and his lips pull into a pout. But no matter how subconsciously adorable he is, you refuse to fall for his charms this time. The heat of anger is still curling in your gut when you think about the argument from earlier. “YN, come on, I had a good reason.”

You shake your head, ignoring the strands of hair that fall into your eyes. “No, San. Confessing to me is not a good reason to fuck up my night. You didn’t even apologise. You’ve been ignoring me for days after I mentioned my date, and the moment I kiss Juyeon you get all angry and jealous? Be for real.” You pause for breath, glaring daggers into his eyes. “You are not owed my time, especially after that shit you pulled. Yeseul’s jealousy is why you broke up with her, so why are you like this to me?”

San’s gaze intensifies and you can see him actively trying to reign in his temper. Although he does his best to remain calm, if tempers are rising, he can be intense. “YN, what was I supposed to do? Watch you go out with him? Watch you slip from my fingers just like that?”

“Yes!” you all but scream at him. “If I could sit by and let Yeseul take each little bit of your heart, you could’ve done the same! I was going to be happy, San! I wouldn’t have to sit behind and watch you from the sidelines with my heart slowly cracking. But I don’t get that same courtesy.”

You step forward, poking his chest with a finger as you let loose your storm of thoughts. In your anger, you don’t even notice San’s arm moving until it wraps around your waist and pulls you into him. The action shocks you enough that you stop mid-sentence, your finger still pressing into San’s flesh. “You love me?” San leans in, his nose brushing against yours.

You can feel heat flare up in your face as you stare wide-eyed at him. It takes you a moment to register your compromising position and you stumble back, pushing at his chest. “Don’t do that,” you hiss, turning your eyes away. “I don’t like you, San. Not anymore.”

“You’re lying.” San’s voice is firm. “Look at me in the eyes and tell me you don’t like me anymore.”

You don’t know where you got it from. You’ve never been good at lying, not to San. Maybe it was the alcohol burning through your system, mixing with the shame and anger you feel. But this time, you stare him directly in the eye and say the four words that might’ve been the biggest lie in your life. “I don’t like you.” San’s brows furrow and he shakes his head.

“No–”

“Yes, San. You cannot just waltz around and expect me to keep the patience I had for you. I’m sick of being pulled around like a puppet. Maybe at first you didn’t know. But refusing to give me space when I asked for it?” You shake your head, glancing back at the party. “I’m going back in. We can talk about the apartment lease later.”

Without glancing back, you re-enter the house. And maybe it hurts a little that he doesn’t go after you, but at this point, you’re too numb and all you want to do is go home and cry. But home is not an option, not when it would probably be the first place he would look for you. Fighting back the tears threatening to fall from your eyes, you slide into your car, staring blankly at the wheel for a long moment until you feel composed and sober enough to drive.

And drive you certainly do. You’re not quite sure where you’re going, and you’re plenty aware that this is a bad idea, but you just let yourself go around and calm yourself down first. The crisp breeze paired with the warm spring air does wonders to clear your head and paired with the late times, there are not too many cars out. It’s peaceful.

You’re not too sure how long you were out, but it’s long enough for the blurry memory of the argument to clear and you groan, pulling over to park by the side of the road and let your head hit the steering wheel. You went too far. San had always been the more emotional of you two, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. He must’ve had a hard time with Yeseul, and although it doesn’t excuse him, you never gave him a chance to properly apologise.

With a sigh, you check your phone to see five missed calls and twenty texts from San asking where you are. He somehow even got your neighbours (a sweet couple in their twenties who babysit Byeol sometimes) to ask you if you’re okay. As your finger hovers over the call button, debating whether to call him back, bright headlights shine behind your car and you stiffen. Your hand hovers over the pepper spray you keep in the dash as you press the call button in a panic. No matter what the disagreement was about, you know San would still come to your aid if you needed it.

“YN, open the door. I’ve been worried sick!” San’s voice crackles through the receiver and you spin around in your seat, squinting at the figure standing behind your car and your shoulders sag in relief.

“God, San, you scared the shit out of me!” you scold, leaning over to unlock the passenger seat and push the door open while hanging up the call. “Get in here.”

A haggard-looking San slides in, his eyes red-rimmed and mouth pressed into a thin line. The car that drove him turns and you look back in confusion before San starts explaining. “I wanted to give you space so I stayed at the party,” he starts explaining after a moment. “But I got worried and went to the apartment to find you. But you weren’t there, and I asked all your friends. I’m lucky you left your location on, and my friend gave me a ride.”

You wince. You forgot about turning off your location, although you’re glad you didn’t as it would’ve been more dangerous otherwise. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, turning your eyes to look out the windshield. “I just needed to clear my head so I went for a drive.”

There’s a long period of suffocating silence between the two of you when San finally speaks, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry,” he starts and your head snaps towards him, eyes wide. Of all the things you expected to fall from his lips, an apology is not one of those things. Not tonight, at least. “I was too pushy. I shouldn’t have ignored you, or interrupted your time with Juyeon. I should’ve talked to you like an adult.”

You laugh, resting your head on the steering wheel. “What an astute observation, San. However did you come to that conclusion?” Your exasperation is evident in your tone and San sucks in a breath at how done you seem. “Look, San. I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be that bad. But I’m just…tired. I’m tired of always wondering what is running through your mind, where I am in your list of importance. You date Yeseul, but break up with her over me. You give me the cold shoulder when I go on a date, but suddenly me being on a date is unacceptable. I just don’t know how to take anything.”

Against your will, tears start to drop onto your thighs, streaking down the skin and you sniff. “Shit,” San panics beside you. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He hands you a tissue and you take it with shaking hands, pressing your face into it as San tugs you closer, guiding you to lean against him.

He repeats soft little ‘sorry’s and leans his head atop yours, his tears falling onto your hair. The two of you stay in this position for a long while, no words are needed to understand the emotional moment.

“Let’s go home, YN,” San mumbles, his voice vibrating deep in your heart. “Let’s go home and we can talk tomorrow.”

You sniff again, tears run dry as you sit up and wipe your eyes. “Okay,” you whisper out. “Let’s go home.”

San stays attached to you throughout the drive home, his hand gripping onto your own hand whenever he can, and quickly wrapping you into a back hug as you walk up to the apartment. “I…cuddle with me tonight?” you ask, eyes flitting away from his face, missing the brilliant smile that spreads across it.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he hums, walking with you to his room, and he lets you slide in first, the smell of his detergent filling your mind and your eyelids flutter shut already. San crawls in next to you, pulling you close.

“Good night, YN,” San mumbles as your breathing evens out. As you drift off into sleep, you swear you feel his soft lips on your forehead but you dismiss it as wishful thinking.

-

When you reawaken, San’s still curled up, your body covered by his, his breathing slow and gentle. You can’t help but blink a couple of times to make sure it isn’t a dream when his arms tighten around your waist and he shifts. “YN?” His morning voice is as rough as always, rumbling low in his chest.

“Hey, Sanah,” you greet him quietly, leaning up to meet his eyes blinking slowly at you like a cat’s. “Good morning.”

“Hi.” He dips his head to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your scent. “I should probably explain myself.” His voice vibrates against your neck and you giggle softly at the ticklish feeling.

“That would be nice.”

San huffs, but he can’t complain about your snark. “I like you, YN. I don’t know when I started to, and I definitely didn’t realise I did until I started dating Yeseul. I did like her, but not as deeply as I thought I did. It was so easy to break up with her as soon as she made me pick between you and her. The answer came to me without a doubt in my mind as soon as the question left her lips, and yet I still didn’t realise my true feelings.” He laughs self-deprecatingly, and you stroke his hair comfortingly. “I didn’t realise why I was so pissed about you going out with Juyeon, and that’s why I was avoiding you. It’s a stupid reason, I know. But I just didn’t know why, not until I saw you at the party kissing him. I just wanted to be there instead of you. And I’m sorry, and I understand if you don’t like me anymore, but–”

“I love you.”

His head snaps up to stare at you after your sudden declaration, and after he registers your words a smile spreads across his face. He puffs out a breathy chuckle and you know his answer before he even says it. “I love you too.”

His eyes shine like you’ve hung the stars in the skies, and when they flit down to your lips, you know an unspoken question when you see it. You lean forward slowly, letting your eyes close once more when your lips meet his.

And damn, you were right about how San kisses. In a second, he deepens the kiss, bringing his hands up to cup your face while his tongue swipes at your lips. Shyly, you part your lips and he dives right in, licking into your mouth and biting at your lips.

“Sanah,” you gasp into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his plush lips. “Sanah–”

You repeat his name like a prayer as his lips travel down to your neck, littering wet kisses and bite marks all over your sensitive skin. “Fuck, baby, you’re so sweet to me,” San moans against your body. “Please, please, let me treat you right, make it up to you. Let me worship you.”

You whine as he laves his tongue over your breasts spilling out of the crop top you had worn last night. Any other time you would’ve stressed at how gross the clothes were but right now you could hardly even think about it. “Fuck, yes, please,” you beg when San nips at your cleavage, leaving a mark.

“Ah, already begging for me,” San groans, his hips pressing into your legs. “You’re so perfect.” His voice grows whiney as his sucks on your nipples, making your back arch.

His kisses move down your body until his breath is ghosting over your stomach and his hands are pawing at your pants, shoving them down as quickly as he can. He doesn’t have the same amount of minimal patience for your panties, and before you can react, he’s ripped them off your legs. “Choi San!” you scold, shifting to try and sit up but his grip on your hips stops you from moving too far.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” San promises before diving right in and sucking at your clit without another moment’s hesitation. Your hips jerk and your core tightens at the sudden feeling as you throw your head back and moan so loudly it’s bordering on a scream

His ministrations on your dripping cunt have you wordless. His fingers are pressing into your hip bones, the sensation making you squirm. As soon as his tongue breaches your clenching hole your hands fly down to grasp at his hair. “Fuck–” you squeal, your legs attempting to close but San just pushes them apart again, busying himself in your folds.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” San groans, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine as he lets his teeth scrape against your clit. You can hardly focus on anything at the barrage of sensations filling you up, San fucking his tongue into you so well. Your thighs are shaking as you can feel yourself grow wetter and wetter against his face.

When you tilt your head down, he meets your eyes as he moves one of his hands to push a finger into your hole. “Shit–” your grip on his hair tightens impossibly. “Sanah–”

“Come for me, love,” San groans, and you let the dam break, screaming out his name until your voice is hoarse, and San licks up your release through it all.

When he finally pulls away from your twitching and sensitive core, his lips are covered in your glistening slick, thick globs of it sitting pretty on his chin. Without thinking, you pull him down and crash your lips against his, tasting yourself on his tongue. San groans as you lick his face clean, shoving your tongue deep into his mouth.

“Fuck, I need to fuck you right now or else I think I might go insane,” San growls, blindly fumbling in his nightstand to pull out a condom as he shoves down his sweats to reveal his hard, red cock. Without another thought, he opens the pack with his teeth, rolling the latex down his length with ease thanks to the precum dribbling down it.

He lines up, the tip of it kissing your hole, when you groan. You’re much too impatient for this, reaching down and holding him steady as you shift your body to sink onto his thick cock. “Shit, YN,” San grits out as you take him deeper and deeper until your cunt kisses his crotch. “You’re too much.”

You pant, shifting on his cock as you try to get used to the stretch. He’s not the longest you’ve had, but he’s thick and the stretch is almost too much. “You’re fucking talking, you fill me up so fucking well, Sanah.” You hiss as you throw your head back, the stinging melting into pleasure. “Fuck me already, San. Or should I go and find Juyeon to–”

You’re cut off by San thrusting into you so violently that you swear the bed shakes. “I don’t want to hear that fucking name out of your mouth anymore,” San commands, leaning forward until his body weight pins you down and your eyes roll back as he starts fucking into you with short, quick thrusts.

With every movement, you feel like you may break apart. You can hear every slick sound, the sound of it obscene, and yet all you want is more. Your previous release coats his cock so well, thick strings of it attaching to his hips.

His arms wrap around your waist, and before you can protest or do anything, he hoists you up until you’re sitting in his lap. You swear this angle makes him impale you even deeper, his cockhead kissing the perfect spot deep inside you. Your head drops to San’s shoulder, moaning against the fabric of his shirt. “Fuck, San, you’re so deep,” you moan high-pitched. “You’re so fucking good for me.”

San growls, pressing a kiss behind your ear. “You’re so tight for me, so much better than Yeseul. I saw you in the mirror, you know,” he whispers conspiratorially and you gasp and clench, snapping your head to look at him. “You’re not as sneaky as you thought, love. Did you touch yourself to the thought of me fucking you so well?”

You whine, words failing you, and San’s hips slow to a stop. You try your best to grind against him but his hands grip your waist, keeping you still. “Please–” you try to beg but San chuckles and nips at your earlobe.

“Answer me, YN.”

“Fuck– Yes!” you cry out, so eager for him to start moving again. “Wanted you to fill me with your cum so well until it was spilling out of me. Please, please, please, fuck me.”

“Hm.” And without any warning, San jerks his hips up into you, biting into your neck like a fucking vampire and you scream, hips stuttering as you come on his cock. You don’t think you’re making any coherent noises, just babbling into his neck as your bones become jelly from the overstimulation.

If you thought the sounds were obscene before, you swear they’ve become ten times worse as you lay limp against San’s body. He’s moving you up and down his cock like a doll and you pant, squeezing your eyes shut as you still feel aftershocks from your orgasm.

“Shit, you’re so warm around me, I’m gonna come,” San moans in your ear, his rhythm breaking as he drops your weight on his cock. You can feel him twitching inside you as his teeth sink into your neck once more. “God, I want to fill you up so badly, but that’s just going to have to wait, my love.”

After a long moment, he pulls out, groaning at your come coating the condom and his thighs. Without thinking, he dips his fingers in the mess and brings it to his mouth, licking it off like it’s the most delicious thing in the world to him. “Come here, baby,” he says in that beautifully raspy voice, and you lean forward, meeting his lips in another kiss.

This kiss is sweet and soft, but the lingering taste of your shared releases still permeates your taste buds. You sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder as he lays against the wall with you in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises again, pressing another kiss to the top of your head and it’s almost like he hadn’t fucked you like it was your last day on earth. “I won’t ever leave you again.”

You hum, turning your head to pepper kisses over his neck freckles. “I should be the one saying that. I love you, San. And I’ll always run to you with no hesitation.”

[cloverapple]

Thank you for posting! Reading your stuff is a lot of help, and your shifting method is awesome sauce i've been using it for the past two nights (the reasons for why I didn't shift i'm self-aware of and will proceed accordingly, not writing it down here because i feel like it's unneccesarry and don't think you can say much abt it) what I was curious if you could give advice about is: fear of shifting? Don't get me wrong i really want to shift. Been on this journey for years for a reason! And i think soon i'll finally do it, as i've never been as consistent, putting in actual work, as I am and as I do now. Last night, when body was truly asleep and it was just only me, I did my thing trying to shift. And suddenly this weight settled on me, as if the world was too big and too heavy, and i immediately thought "I can't do this" and rolled over with the decision to just simply sleep. Today i talked with a friend about this, and he said it's probably "a fear of shifting, a fear of responsibility", and honestly I agree with this take. Of course I will try again tonight, and will keep doing so until I can push through this feeling and actually shift, but i was wondering if you had a word of advice? Thank you <3

• The way I see the fear of shifting is like: that fear you felt right before the shift wasn’t a failure, it was a sign you were right there.

• Think about it: why would your mind suddenly scream "I can’t do this!" and slam the brakes when you were on the edge of what you’ve been working toward? It’s because, on some level, your subconscious knew shifting was about to happen.

• It accepted it as real, as possible, and that’s exactly when the fear kicked in. That fear isn’t about shifting being impossible, it’s your mind clinging to the familiar, trying to protect you from stepping into something that it's your current reality. Our brains are wired to favor what we know, even if what we know isn’t what we want. It’s like standing at the edge of a cliff with a parachute—you know the parachute will open, but the ground beneath your feet still feels safer.

• So, no, you didn’t fail. Don’t look at that fear as a blockage because it’s not. It’s a precedent to progress, a signpost that you're on the brink of success. Fear is just your mind’s way of saying, "This is real."

To work through it: First, understand that fear is just another form of anxiety—and anxiety, at its core, is the same physiological response as excitement. The only difference is the story you tell yourself about it. When you feel that fear creeping in during the day, don’t shove it down. Let yourself feel it, but flip the script. Visualize the moments you’re genuinely excited for in your DR. Happy, comforting, exciting things that make you want to shift. Feel how easily that fear morphs into anticipation. Emotions are malleable, and once you start associating that tension with excitement instead of dread, you’ll find it easier to move forward.

What you really need to do if fear is your issue, is let go. Stop putting shifting on this towering pedestal. Yes, it’s amazing, but it’s also normal. The more you treat it like this huge, mystical event, the more your mind will see it as something to fear. Shift your perspective. Talk about it like it’s just another part of your day, think of it as routine, affirm it as something natural. Trick your brain into seeing shifting as regular and unexciting, and it’ll stop resisting. Because at the end of the day, shifting isn’t some impossible feat. It’s just you becoming aware of another space you already belong in.

• But let’s go even deeper, to stop that freeze response from hijacking you the next time you’re at the doorway to your shift. We’re going to eliminate the fear before it even has a chance to rise. (yes I'm giving you optional homework because I'm the worst 😁)

The "Normalize Your DR" Exercise

1. Document Your CR Routine. Write down your current daily schedule in your CR. What time you wake up, eat, work, study, relax, everything. Create a schedule.

2. Now create a parallel schedule for your DR. You could do this for the day you're going to wake up in your DR, or next day, depends on what you scripted and feels better for you. What are you doing at each hour? How does your morning routine look? Who do you see? Where are you?

3. Sync CR Time with DR Time. Match your CR schedule to your DR schedule. For every hour in your day, mentally check in with what you’d be doing in your DR at that exact time. This repetitive syncing normalizes your DR in your mind. It becomes part of your routine, not some distant, unreachable dream that your mind fears shifting to.

4. Visualize Throughout the Day. As you go through your CR, take moments to pause and visualize your DR. The more your mind gets used to the idea of being in your DR, the less foreign—and therefore less scary—it becomes.

I hope you can take something from this. Good luck! 💚🩷🫂

[beecauseevan]

Thank you @oldfashionedmorphine for the cute prompt <3 <3 <3

~~~

Eddie stares at the thing he just pulled out of the cardboard box in front of him, concisely labeled "Kitchen". That makes him think it must be food-related (then again, Buck kept a ring cutter in his cutlery drawer, so who knows), but try as he might, he can't work it out. It's a bright green plastic knife, but the handle is weird—it's a grid instead of a solid surface, too wide and too flat to be comfortable to hold.

"What is this?" 

He holds it up. Buck, who's sitting across from him, glances up, shrugs, and looks back down at Christopher's textbook.

"It's an avocado cutter."

"Why do you need an avocado cutter?" Eddie asks.

Buck looks up again. "Why do you think, Eddie? Not to cut apples, that's for sure."

Eddie reaches into the box again and takes out a (much more recognizable) plastic gadget—a red plastic frame and eight blades, arranged in the middle like spokes on a wheel. "And what's this?"

"That's an apple cutter." 

Wordlessly, Eddie drops that back in the box and pulls out something long and yellow—

"Banana cutter."

—followed by something that looks exactly the same, except orange.

"Hot dog cutter," Buck says, with a smile.

"Uh huh." Eddie pulls out something purple.

"That's an onion," Buck cuts himself off, "dicer."

"An onion cutter," Eddie repeats.

"No, an onion dicer," Buck insists. "It said so on the package."

Eddie looks at the thing in his hands. It looks exactly like the apple cutter, but the blades are arranged in a grid, forming little squares instead of wedges. "What's the difference?"

Chris, sat between them and brooding over his English homework, stops chewing on his pencil just long enough to say, "It's obvious, dad. Cutters cut, dicers dice."

"It's obvious, Eddie," Buck echoes, smirking.

Eddie drops the onion cutter on the no pile, ignoring Buck's pout. 

"I don't think you should be throwing out all of my shi—" Buck cuts himself off with a glance in Chris' direction. "All of my stuff. That's not the point of moving in together. Your stuff is supposed to mingle, Eddie."

"You can say shit, you know," Chris tells them boredly. "I'm not a baby."

"Our stuff is mingling," Eddie replies, pointing his finger at Chris, a silent admonishment Chris completely ignores. "But not this stuff. I already have a banana cutter. And an onion dicer. And all the other stuff in between."

Buck looks at him skeptically. "You do?"

Eddie nods and gets up. He walks to his cutlery drawer and pulls out a single kitchen knife. "See? It cuts, it dices, and it's universal."

"It's not shaped like a banana though."

Chris chuckles and quickly dips his head when Eddie looks at him, as if he's been focused on his homework the whole time. Eddie shakes his head.

"That sounds like a good thing, if you ask me."

"I guess I won't ask you, then," Buck replies.

Eddie sits back down. He would give in (he would fill every single drawer in this house with useless gadgets if it made Buck happy) but Buck's frown is clearly not genuine—the spark in his eyes is far too obvious.

"So what you're saying is," Buck continues, "as long as it's not a cutter, it's fine."

Eddie hesitates. "Why does that feel like a dangerous thing to say yes to?"

"Live on the edge, Eddie," Buck tells him sagely, and Eddie has never been one to back down from a challenge.

"Okay."

Buck pulls the box closer to him and starts rummaging through it. He produces some things Eddie doesn't mind saying yes to—spacer rings for his rolling pin, a collapsible silicone bowl for microwave popcorn, a pizza cutter shaped like a bicycle and cupcake tins shaped like firetrucks, which are just ridiculous enough that Eddie wants to see them in action.

"See," he says, "we're mingling."

"We are," Buck confirms, and there's something in his smirk that might be bad news. Eddie has seen that smirk before. It usually precedes a rope rescue or something equally dangerous. "So if you don't have something yet, I get to keep it, yeah?"

Eddie frowns. "That was the deal."

"Okay." Buck reaches into the box between them one last time and pulls out the weirdest thing Eddie has seen all day. It's chocolate-colored and square, with a round cylinder at the back. Two arms protrude from it, made from flexible white plastic. He shakes it lightly and those arms rattle, slapping against the flat base. 

Eddie stares at it. "What on earth does that do?"

"It's a s'more maker," Buck says, tugging at one of the arms. "You put your crackers here, and your chocolate and your marshmallow, and then you put it in the microwave. And this little thing holds everything in place."

"We used it every time I stayed over at Buck's," Chris says fondly. "The s'mores taste really, really bad."

"Microwaved s'mores taste bad?" Eddie reaches out to tug at the other arm, then lets it fall back down. "Shocking."

Buck is smirking, and the thing is—Eddie knows fully well that this is a dare. He knows that Buck expects to be told to get rid of this thing, and that he would do it, gladly. And maybe that last part is why Eddie just shrugs instead.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Buck repeats, incredulously.

"Okay," Eddie confirms. "Bet we can clear some space for it."

Buck stares at him, stunned. "For real?"

Eddie reaches for Buck's hand, still holding the chocolate-colored monstrosity, and smooths his thumb across Buck's knuckles.

"It's your house too," he says simply. 

It's Buck's house too. Buck isn't renting a room from Eddie, isn't staying here as a guest. Buck is a part of this household now, of this family. If he wants to make s'mores in their microwave, he doesn't need Eddie's permission.

Buck's eyes speak volumes. Later, when they're alone, Buck will kiss Eddie for this, hard enough that Eddie forgets about everything else. For now, he just flips his hand so he can lace their fingers together, Buck's a little longer than Eddie's but calloused in all the same places. 

Chris catches one glimpse of them and rolls his eyes, burying his face in his homework, but he's smiling too.

"Okay," Buck says quietly. "Okay. But I am getting rid of it. Chris is right. The s'mores are really bad."

"Could take it to work," Eddie says after a moment, when his brain is no longer too flooded with love to work properly. "Show it to Bobby."

"He'll disown me."

"Yeah, maybe. But his face would be worth it."

Buck's smile grows into a smirk, bright and devastating. He mouths the next words, for Chris' sake, but Eddie has heard them so many times by now that his brain fills in the gaps, that he hears Buck's voice as he reads Buck's lips: I love you.

"I know you do," Eddie replies. It takes one pout, and then he breaks. He mouths back, trusting Buck to be able to read him just as easily: I love you more.

"You two are embarrassing," Chris tells them. "And we're keeping the s'mores maker. I like it."

Just like that, it's settled.

[moons-and-mobility-aids]

Girl Talk

Pairings: Poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: The girls want details. You're not giving them any. Warnings: Discussions of sex Series Masterlist

The fire crackles in the hearth, casting a soft orange glow across the room. You're reclining on your bed, propped up by pillows, while Lily, Marlene, Mary, and Dorcas are scattered about, lounging on the floor or settled into the plush armchairs. Pages of homework lie forgotten as the conversation takes precedence.

It started off innocently enough, with Lily asking about how you manage with your wheelchair, but somehow, the talk has taken a more intimate turn.

"So… what’s it like being with all three of them?” Marlene finally breaks the silence, her blue eyes sparkling with curiosity.

You can't help but grin at their eager expressions, knowing they've been dying to ask ever since they found out about your relationship with James, Remus, and Sirius. The girls lean forward, waiting for your answer, and though you feel heat creeping up your cheeks, it's not exactly embarrassment that makes you hesitate.

"I feel like I should be asking you lot for advice," you joke, trying to buy yourself time. "After all, some of you have more experience in this department than I do."

"You're avoiding the question," Dorcas points out, a playful smirk playing on her lips.

"Because it's none of your business," you retort, aiming for firm but light. "Some things are private."

A chorus of groans echoes around the room, followed by laughter that bounces off the stone walls and high ceiling.

"Oh, don't be such a spoilsport!" Dorcas cajoles, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin. "Not even a hint? Like... who's the best?"

You raise an eyebrow at her audacity. "They're all great. Really. I'm not going to compare them like that."

Lily, who has been quiet up until now, looks at you with curious eyes. "But are they good?"

A soft chuckle escapes your lips. "They're very good," you admit, allowing yourself a fleeting moment to recall how each of them knows just the right way to make you feel safe, cherished, and, well... thoroughly satisfied. "And that's all I'm saying."

"Alright, but we can't leave it at that," Marlene insists, leaning in closer. "Who's the biggest then?"

Your face flushes with heat, and you're acutely aware of everyone's gaze on you. You know the answer—Remus, hands down—but there's no way you're admitting that aloud. Instead, you cross your arms over your chest and shake your head.

"I'm not telling."

Marlene pouts, her bottom lip jutting out slightly. Mary chuckles beside her, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "Oh, Y/N definitely knows."

You roll your eyes even as your cheeks burn brighter. "I do know. I'm just not going to say."

Dorcas lets out a laugh, her shoulders shaking with mirth. "Well, I suppose we'll have to guess then. Marlene here is convinced it's Remus, but I've got my money on James."

As if that will make any difference. You glance at Lily, who is grinning unabashedly at your discomfort. She hasn't asked anything herself, not really, but her eyes sparkle with mirth. She's in no hurry to intervene.

Before you can recover, Marlene leans forward with a wicked gleam in her eye. "Have they let you watch them—"

"Mar!" Dorcas scolds, though laughter tugs at the corners of her mouth.

"—you know, together?"

The question hits you like a Bludger, stealing your breath. The girls' laughter peals around you, their amusement fuelled by your flustered reaction. The truth is, it hasn't happened—not yet—but the thought has crossed your mind more times than you care to admit. Not that you would ever confess such a thing to them.

"I'm not answering that," you retort, keeping your face as neutral as possible. But your heart pounds in your chest, betraying your calm exterior.

Marlene groans dramatically, rolling her eyes. "Oh, come on! Don't be a bore. Give us something interesting."

Mary, who’s been mostly quiet, leans in with a curious glint in her eyes. "Do they all, uh, do it at the same time?"

Your mouth opens and closes, words failing you for a moment. They're not entirely wrong—that's how it often happens, each one taking a turn—but you have no intention of confirming that either. Instead, you shake your head, biting back a laugh. "You lot are impossible, you know that?"

The girls' giggles fill the room once more, infectious and bright. You can't help but laugh along, despite yourself. The teasing is relentless, but it's all in good fun. Still, you're thankful when the door creaks open, saving you from having to answer any more questions—for now.

James, Sirius, and Remus saunter in, a picture of casual confidence. Your heart skips a beat as you realise they've probably been listening outside the whole time.

"Well, well, well," Sirius purrs, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "What have we stumbled upon here?"

Your gaze narrows at him, but the corners of your mouth tug upward despite your best efforts to stay stern. "You better not have been eavesdropping."

James appears in the doorway beside Sirius, leaning against the frame with a grin that's far too pleased with itself. "Eavesdropping? Us? No, we would never."

Remus lingers just behind them, an amused quirk to his eyebrow as he pretends to examine his fingernails. "We simply happened to arrive at the most opportune moment, didn't we?"

The girls' cheeks flush, their giggles filling the room, and you shake your head, feigning exasperation while a laugh threatens to spill from your own lips. "Unbelievable."

Sirius saunters over, sinking onto the bed beside you and draping an arm around your shoulders. His lips brush against your temple in an affectionate peck as he grins. "Oh, come on, love. We didn't listen in... much."

You shoot him a faux glare, fighting the smile threatening to spread across your face. "You're all impossible."

James makes his way over, perching on the arm of your empty wheelchair with an nonchalant air. "So, what were they asking you about?"

Lily stifles a laugh behind her hand, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. "Just... some girl talk."

"Is that what we're calling it now?" Remus raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he settles on the edge of the bed.

Sirius grins beside you, leaning over to whisper, “You can tell them if you want. I don’t mind.”

You elbow him gently, your cheeks still warm. “You’re insufferable.”

His laughter is low and rumbling, a sound that sends shivers down your spine despite yourself. He pulls you closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. “You love me.”

And though you hate to admit it, especially now when he's being so infuriatingly smug, he's right. You do.

The girls exchange knowing glances, their laughter subsiding into quiet chuckles. They begin to gather their belongings, their movements slow and deliberate, unwilling to completely relinquish the moment.

"Alright, we'll let you off easy this time," Marlene says, her eyes still gleaming with mirth as she rises from the chair. She throws a final wink in your direction, a silent promise of more teasing to come.

"Thanks," you reply, your tone dripping with sarcasm even as a smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. You can't deny it—their jesting has lifted your spirits, if only a little.

The door closes behind them, leaving you alone with the boys. Without missing a beat, you turn to face them, crossing your arms over your chest, an eyebrow raised in question. "Now, are you going to tell me you weren't eavesdropping?"

Sirius grins wolfishly, not bothering to hide his guilt. He leans back against the couch, his arms folded behind his head as though he hasn't a care in the world. Beside him, James shifts uncomfortably under your gaze while Remus sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"Maybe a little," Remus admits, meeting your eyes with an apologetic shrug. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards, betraying his amusement.

You groan, dropping your head into your hands. "I'm never going to hear the end of this, am I?" you mumble into your palms.

James chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. He presses a quick kiss to your temple, his lips curving into a familiar, teasing grin. "Not a chance."

[thelonelybrilliance]

ok you know what I'm going to be a little reckless on the dash. Friday Night Lights subverted tropes it thought it was playing straight, and that only contributed to its timeless power. Landry Clarke was the holier-than-thou-nerd-who-gets-the-girl self-insert (Pete Berg my Eye is on you) who actually is one of the most sinister and entitled "Nice Guy" prototypes I've ever seen on the screen. He insinuates his way into Tyra's life despite her evident lack of interest and actual repulsion. He schemes and plans for ways to get close to her, and when she's recovering from the trauma of an attempted rape he actively incorporates her need for protection into his approach to ingratiating himself with her. When he kills her assailant (lol the infamous s2 "Murder" plotline) he equates his role to the David-Bathsheba-Uriah dynamic in the Bible, aka the king lusting after the most beautiful woman and killing her husband to get him out of the way. (Newsflash bud you didn't kill her HUSBAND and thus get RIGHTS to her, you KILLED THE MAN WHO ASSAULTED HER.)

Anyway, Landry decenters Tyra in her own experience through manipulation, condescension, and outright shaming. By killing her assailant he doesn't rescue her, he further limits her ability to seek help and healing, while constantly negging her for her complex feelings of panic, fear, rage, and relief. His feelings always take precedence. He willingly accepts her sleeping with him as recompense. Whenever she shrinks away from him thereafter, he shames her for not wanting to be with the "good guy." Literally ONE EPISODE after the attempted assault on Tyra, when she reconnects with Tim (platonically, as a trusted, if complex figure from her entire past life--aka someone who actually knows her, unlike Landry), he denigrates Tim's intelligence and character, all but slut-shaming Tyra for wanting to rekindle that friendship. Mind you, Tyra is not dating Landry at this time and in fact shows zero romantic interest in him until after he kills her assailant, which begs the question of how genuine her interest actually was. Their entire "relationship" over the course of s2 and s3 includes Tyra being the one to have to feel guilty and uncomfortable whenever her interests and desires do not align with what Landry wants. This is/was popularly seen in the fandom as Tyra "using" him. There is literally an episode of the show called "The Giving Tree" in which we are supposed to believe that Landry helping Tyra do homework etc is equivalent to the little boy destroying the tree for his own selfish ends. Meanwhile, Landry has had his eye on her since mid-season 1 with the most gross teen-boy-fantasy mindset imaginable, and there is actually no canonical basis to support them getting together had it not been for Tyra undergoing a string of deeply traumatic events. One of Landry's first physical overtures (which she does not appear to pick up on as romantic) occurs when he is staying in her empty house with her becuase she is afraid her would-be rapist is about to return. Landry literally calls Matt for advice on how to subtly initiate physical content, i.e., how to cop a feel on this traumatized girl who has only invited you in to protect her against another assault. On more than one occasion Landry jealously squares off against other men Tyra is interested in, often embarrassing her, or gives another girl attention only to drop her when he thinks he has another chance with Tyra. These behaviors were not cast negatively by the show. At the time (early 2000s), it was likely written as a nerd wish-fulfillment power fantasy that treated Tyra as a conquest, something to be earned, something that was obviously a "hot commodity" (as Landry's own father, a cop, implies to her face). Tyra is constrained by men's objectification, even while she resists her mother's and sister's even more sexualized paths. Tyra is seen as a bad girl, a temptation, a siren-song--but Landry himself does everything he can to ensure she can't get away from him.

And then? She does. Call it actors having other commitments, call it a change in the show's core arcs, call it what you want, but Tyra gets away. Through her own hard-won work, relying not solely on his assistance but also on her own experience, her own life, and her own wits, Tyra gets into college and makes a clean break from Dillon and specifically Landry. Until she returns in Season 5 (to reunite with Tim, the actual love of her life and her true narrative parallel, but that's for another meta), she has avoided Dillon and outright ghosted Landry (~deserved~). Despite being judged, scolded, abandoned, and pressed by almost everyone in her life, she forges her own path and doesn't offer continuing "compensation" to the Nice Guy(TM) just because she was beautiful and sexualized and once had the nerve to resist him. I genuinely don't believe the show intended to write such a commentary on the unfair stakes a girl in Tyra's position takes, but damn it made for a rich text.

[a-muscle-the-size-of-your-fist]

why don't you ever want to talk to me? (Josh for Foster!)

PROMPTS FOR PEOPLE WHO DON'T SAY MUCH

[ Foster + Lipstick ]

Lifting his gaze from the notebook he'd been burning a hole in, Foster pursed his lips at his father. He could say a lot, but he'd always been the quieter brother, even when he'd been young. Dalton had always taken precedence, and he'd been fine with that. Middle Child Syndrome at its finest with this boy, truly.

Setting his fountain pen down carefully after capping it, he sighed gently, placing his hands on the kitchen table. Gripping it and pushing a little, he lifted the dining chair's front legs from the floor and leaned back, trying to decide just what he could say here. Eyes falling to Josh's arm, he thought good and hard about what he could say here. What would be diplomatic enough not to cause a fight?

What could he blame his silence on? Favoritism? Bad memories? Scary memories? All of these things were parts of the problem.

You could always tell him about us…

That thought sent chills down his spine and he shivered a little, dropping the chair legs back to the floor and absently rubbing his arms with both hands.

Like that would go over well.

Well, Dad, you see, I was so lonely and neglected that I made friends with the demon that kept trying to steal my brother's body! We're cohabitating and it's actually a really nice setup!

No fucking way. Foster thought back, and he could feel the demon pouting inside his head; he only barely kept the look off of his face.

“It's not that I don't want to talk to you,” He finally started, still not making eye contact with his father, “It's just… I dunno, I don't talk a lot in general. Mom's used to it, Cali's used to it, Dalton's used to it. My…” Taking a soft inhale, he let it out through his nose as he stated the next thing blandly, “Friend's used to it. I'm more of a listener than a talker.” Always have been. You'd know that if you knew me.

“Did you want to talk about something…? I'm just working on…” Glancing at the red ink swirling across the pages of the leatherbound notebook in front of him, he hesitated. No doubt Josh wouldn't be interested in his novel ideas, they weren't polished enough, yet. Everything needed more work, but this was only his second rewrite, he'd have it done after a few more.

“I'm free if you want to talk.” Finally, Foster turned his head up to look back at Josh with a guiled expression, trying to offer a little, reassuring smile. This attempt landed straight in the category of uncomfortable instead, and he knew it after feeling the way his face was moving.

Poor, invisible Foster wasn't used to people wanting to talk to him badly enough to bring it up. For a long time, he'd wondered if their father had tried to kill them to just get rid of the unwanted kid in the middle. Cali had always been well-loved, and Dalton? Dalton had been the family's main priority for his entire life. As much as he loved his family, he didn't think they were capable of giving him even half of what he put out.

It was why he stayed quiet, a ghost in his own home. Chores were done, little things that he could take care of to take the pressure off of everyone else. The love language he put into the world was acts of service, and he did enough for the family that he felt got overlooked that he felt no love in return. Well, maybe not no love, but certainly less. With Dalton away at college, he'd felt a little more secure.

But only a little.

“I have homework I need to do at seven. I can push it off if it's important, though, if you want. I can always tell Mom I had something more important to do.”

[zmwinter15]

2024 Check-in

It's September 2024, and unfortunately Israel's actions have not de-escalated since last year's check-in post.

Last year's post in December was 60 days in to the current conflict, and I reflected on what I had learned about in the preceding nine years. This year, I want to look back at what's happened since, and reflect on how I continue to learn about my past ignorance.

Bottom Line Up Front: Arms Embargo Now

The post will be long and meandering as I try to share what I've learned in the hopes that others can also learn and grow too. However, I don't want to bury the most important part: calls for a ceasefire like I made last year have not been enough, most importantly I want readers to demand an arms embargo now. That is, the US government should stop selling weapons to Israel, which are immediately deployed to commit genocide. This year, the Uncommitted Movement has sprung up as a group of democratic delegates who have attempted to leverage their votes in the Democratic primary election, to use US influence to de-escalate the situation, and I am thankful for their clear-headed leadership in this space.

Last year's calls for a ceasefire have become watered down as the Biden Administration has voice abstract support for a ceasefire in Gaza, but as recently as August this year has still authorized $20B in weapons sales to Israel. And so, arms embargo now is the new bare minimum we can demand to de-escalate.

Taking one step back, I want to quickly explain why an arms embargo is so important. Israel would likely not be able to continue its attacks without US support. And it's important to prevent those attacks, for justice and fairness, and also to prevent more human suffering. The death toll numbers in Gaza are over 40,000 and by all accounts that must be an undercount, because so many of the survivors are seriously injured, maimed, and sick with things like polio that can be easily prevented with access to vaccines, the bare minimum of care.

You don't have to try very hard to dig up coverage of infants killed in Gaza. The linked article names a pair of twins, but there are countless more who go un-named. This is all to say, the Israeli attacks clearly constitute war crimes and don't show any sign of stopping.

Gaza and The West Bank

I am embarrased to admit that one of the biggest things I've learned in the last year is the difference between Gaza and the West Bank. As a quick aside, I remember my sixth grade history/social studies teacher giving us an assignment to go and research various things for homework, this would have been probably 2002 or 2003. Two items on the list were Gaza and the West Bank. I probably Googled the terms and wrote down a sentence or two, but I am pretty sure the goal of the assignment was to better understand the Israel-Palestine conflict, which was nasty and lopsided even back then. Unfortunately, none of that got across to middle school me.

I never fully internalized this year how geographically separate Gaza and the West Bank are, and how for decades, the Israeli government has prevented free movement of Palestinians between those two parts. Sure, the whole area of Israel/Palestine is not so large, but it's large enough that preventing movement actively harms people. This was the year that I started to finally understand the "open air prison" term, describing the harsh restrictions the Israeli government has placed on the Palestinians for decades.

The biggest thing that I learned this year was how the two Palestinian areas, Gaza and the West Bank, have been governed differently. In 2007, voters in Gaza elected Hamas, the so-called terrorist organization, as their government. But that does not mean all Palestinians are members of Hamas, nor does it mean all Palestinians support Hamas. The West Bank continues to be governed by the Palestinian Authority instead, but that hasn't made a difference: while Israel blames Hamas for last year's October 7th attacks, they continues to aggressively invade the West Bank. Again, the West Bank is not governed by Hamas.

This is the year that I finally started to unpack how Gaza and the West Bank get to be conveniently confused in order to legitimize attacks on one or the other, even if the attacks on either are unjust.

I never watched anything from the late Anthony Bourdain, but this is the year I've come across the his 2013 Parts Unknown documentary episode where he goes to the West Bank and Gaza. In 2013 he voices frustration at the treatment of Palestinians, and things have gotten worse for the Palestinians since then.

Gaza Geography

This is also the year I learned much more about Gazan geography. Unfortunately, it has been at the expense of too many Palestinian lives.

Last year in December, Israel's attacks were focused on Gaza city in the north of the Gaza strip. In the time since, they have escalated to level most of the entire Gaza strip.

In January, Israel attacked Khan Yunis, slightly to the South. Palestinians were told that the city Rafah (all the way in the south) was safe, and that refugees from the other cities could relocate there. President Biden declared that if Israel attacked Rafah, that would cross a "red line" and that he would intervene.

Well, Israel attacked Rafah, crossing the so-called "red line", and Joe Biden didn't do anything meaningful.

The attacks have been so brutal that South Africa made a case against Israil in the ICJ, and the ICJ ordered Israel to stop. Of course, Israel ignored the orders. The US State Department chose to criticize the ICJ. Some articles echo a talking point that "the ICJ decisions are not binding" but I'm pretty sure that's incorrect.

So I guess, in learning about the geography of the Gaza Strip, so too have I learned about the American government's complete lack of a spine.

Yemen

While some folks spoke up against Israel's actions, the Houthi government put their money where their mouth is. The Houthis used their location at the mouth of the Red Sea to attack commercial ships bound for or linked to Israel. This key intervention lead to commercial ships re-routing all the way around Africa (instead of using the shorter Suez Canal route). I think it's incredible and admirable what a relatively small force was able to do, and to see how commercial interests were easily affected. It gives me more hope that that the BDS movement could be successful in influencing Israel.

The US government and military intervened, bombing Yemen. I'm disappointed in our government, to say the least.

Self-Immolation

In December, a person (whose name I'm not able to locate online), set themselves on fire outside the Israeli consulate in Atlanta. They had a Palestinian flag and we can assume this was in support of Palestinians.

In February, 25-year old Aaron Bushnell set himself on fire outside the Israeli Embassy in DC. In recorded verbal statements, he explicitly did so as an act of protest against the US government and its active involvement in Israel's active genocide in Gaza.

And now, just last week a man named Matt Nelson also self-immolated outside the Israeli consolute in Boston.

By all accounts, each one of these is one of the most extreme acts of protest. While the Atlanta protestor's motivations may not have been as widely distributed, Bushnell's and Nelson's were. I wish more people were aware of their brave acts so that more of us could honor their sacrifices by agitating for a change.

The Jewish Calendar

The Jewish High Holidays are Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, and Yom Kippur, the day of atonement. These are in the S-tier of Jewish Holidays, the tier where observant Jews make sure to travel and visit family during them (they share this tier with Passover, but not Hannukah, that one is just conveniently close to Christmas and New Years.)

Coincidentally, the one-year anniversary of last year's Hamas attack, October 7, falls in between Rosh Hashanah. This period of time is sometimes referred to as the Ten Days of Repentance. I fully expect a full-court press of alligator tears from the Israeli government and their proxies. I can only imagine what will be demanded of Palestinians during this time.

Palestinians are not a religious monoculture, some Palestinians are Christian and some are Muslim. The Israeli government shows absolutely no mercy during important holidays or religous holidays such as Eid, but I expect any slight or criticism of Israel during this time will be treated as uncouth or insensitive.

Just like last year, it's important to remember that Israel and Judaism are not the same thing! Criticizing Israel, while there are Jewish people who live and create its policies, is not the same as condeming Judaism or all Jews! Anecdotally I feel like people in my bubble have gotten better at separating Israel the state from Judaism as a whole.

Lebanon

The last few months have also seen Israel escalate violence outside of Gaza into Lebanon, their neighbor to the north.

In Lebanon, hundreds of pagers exploded. Many of these pagers and the associated deaths and injuries were linked to Hezbollah, another organization that's an enemy of the state of Israel. However, many non-Hezbollah people were harmed in these attacks as well.

Sources linked these pagers to a years-long supply chain hack by Israel's Mossad. They're a cybersecurity person's worst nightmare, having what you assume to be consumer grade tech be augmented with military-grade explosives, being carried around in people's pockets. As somebody who is literally gleud to my iPhone, I can't imagine the trauma this has caused.

By all accounts, rigging consumer devices in this way also constitutes a terrorist attack. Israel's attacks continue to be unacceptable.

The United States

If it wasn't clear from the rest of the post, I am disappointed in President Biden and the US government as a whole. I was so relieved when Biden announced he would not be seeking re-election this fall, because he had been so vocally resistant to even ceasefire movements before.

I was extremely upset at how the Democrats treated the Uncommited Movement at the Democratic National Convention this year. The DNC had all sorts of speakers (Republicans, cops, Israelis), but refused to give any airtime to even the most watered down speech in support of Gaza.

As the Democratic Party's nominee, Kamala Harris has not indicated any sort of significant departure for the US from the status quo. A majority of Americans support an arms embargo yet Kamala Harris has not made any of that part of her platform. I don't follow the polling too closely, but I know that the presidential election is still a tight race. I wish that Kamala Harris would at minimum support an arms embargo to Israel, or otherwise do something to gain support from more potential voters.

Thanks

I want to take this time to thank my friends who have continued to share out information and stories, no matter how bloody, to their timelines. They've helped keep me in the loop and aware of these issues in Gaza and elsewhere, and they've had the courage to reshare things that I can barely stomach. The first friends that come to mind are Andres, Juan, Svetha and Liza, but I know others have shared invaluable information as well. And to the people I know of, but don't actually know on Twitter, on Bluesky and elsewhere, thank you too.

I want to end this post with a request. To find ways to help limit Israel's violence, to support the BDS Movement, the Uncommitted Movement, or anything that aims to de-escalate the situation.

Thanks for reading it this far, I hope that next year I won't have to make another follow-up post.

[martynrw]

Homework for my writing class

This is my second piece of homework for my last course of the academic year. I had to write the inciting incident for a proposed novel. The plan is we'll map out the full story as the course goes on. I'd appreciate constructive criticism.

Working title: The Strings of the Puppeteer.

Chapter 1: The man on the train.

Training saves lives, thought DS Alun Jack as he picked himself off the floor and took in the devastation wrought on his train carriage.

This was his third thought. The preceding two were wordlessly exclamatory, one registering his impending peril, and the other a flash of pain in his lower back he knew would burst into piriformis hell in his near future.

His training, a product of years as a Welsh Guardsman in trouble-spots around the world, taught him to recognise the flash of light near the barrier for what it was, the fact he had less than a second before the blast wave smashed into his carriage a hundred metres away, and the reflexes to throw himself to the floor before the concussive discharge and heat turned the windows into a glazed claymore.

Lumps of tarmac, concrete, and wood, together with flying bullets of glass, rained down on him. The carriage heaved as the roar of the explosion engulfed it, and he felt the thud of something heavy striking his right shoulder. He waited for a few seconds, then, just as the screams started, he leapt to his feet and sprinted for the open door.

***

Earlier that afternoon, Jack was on a platform in Cardiff Central waiting for the train to take him to his newly bought retirement cottage in Gowerton. He had three weeks’ compulsory leave before handing in his warrant card. Time he felt was better spent working his garden than twiddling his thumbs in his Cardiff bedsit.

Hopes of contemplative solitude were dashed by the packed carriages, but he spied an empty seat next to a tall, elderly man clutching a rucksack on his lap.

“Do you mind?” he enquired, patting the seat.

The man looked up, a startled expression crossing his face.

“No, please,” he responded.

Out of habit, Jack ran a policeman’s eye over him: white hair trimmed to stubble at the sides, head held high, back straight, an expensive raincoat, and an alma mater tie he failed to recognise but suggested somewhere expensively elite. He reeked of officer class to Jack.

“Are you travelling to Swansea?” the man asked. His voice was plummy and precise, but with an unidentifiable regional quality.

“Gowerton,” Jack said.

“Is that after Swansea?”

“The next stop after.”

“Do you know how many stops before we get there?” the man asked. “We’re late, you see, and I have to get back to Crewe.”

The conversation continued to unfold in this manner, and the old man mentioned he had to despatch a “Recorded Delivery package” from Swansea. He didn’t say to where, and Jack, cautioning himself he was in the escape lane to retirement, didn’t enquire. He checked his train app, though; it revealed the train they were on passed through Crewe before reaching Cardiff and he raised a mental eyebrow.

Something’s not right here, Jack thought.

“Why do you have to get to Crewe?” Jack asked. “You’ll only have about an hour before your train leaves.”

“Is that all? I had hoped to view the seaside,” he said, his voice filled with disappointment. “My connecting train to Edinburgh leaves Crewe this evening, and it’s essential I get back.”

“Have you come all the way from Edinburgh today?”

“Yes, I left this morning from Waverley.”

“That’s a hell of a trip just to post a letter.”

“It’s just a little task I have to do…” He left the words trailing as if there was more to the story, but said no more until they reached Swansea. When the train pulled into the station, they both rose. He hefted his bag with effort, slung it over one shoulder, stuck out his hand to Jack and said, “Thank you for your help with the train times. My name is Guy… Guy Strachan.”

“Alun Jack.”

With that, he turned and, with a surprisingly sprightly turn of foot, disappeared into the crowd as he hurried down the platform.

***

Even though it was outside the confines of the station, the second blast felt much stronger and, as Jack raced down the platform through thick clouds of billowing smoke from the first detonation, it crashed through the station windows, sending him sprawling to the ground, and snatching the air from his lungs as the compression wave struck. Before he passed out, he caught sight of a shredded brown raincoat hanging from a still standing stanchion.

The Swansea atrocity was only the first of many that winter.

*

[hellodenisestuff]

Oct., 6, 2023

Monday we said goodbye to 6 volunteeers and waited for the 5 new volunteers. The hange over is a mixture of poingnancy saying goodbye to friends and apprehension on receiving new ones. Joanne and I were the only two remaining so we hoped the new bunch would be congenial. They are.

There are 5 women an one man. The man is from Malta here with his daughter, a lovely pair. There are two women from USA an one from England. We were happy to see that they are full of enthusiasm and game for whatever needs to be done and comes up.

The two days in Naboisho are very long 10 to 13 hours in the game drive vehicle which I in this stage of my life find pretty tiring, but Oh, what we get to see. It is breath taking. I will post some of the more spectacular sights.

We met with the students of the Center for two hours. Most of them are in Wildlife training, a few in housekeeping and some in food production.

they are all Maasai and live relatively nearby. There are 13 women enrolled and 27 men. They are mostly young and not married. Some of the women have children who are taken care of by there moms. The struggle to attain this high level of education for the women especially is mind boggleing. I talked with some of the gals. One told how she walked barefoot for 3 kilometers at 6 years of age coming home to wash and iron her uniform and gather wood and help with the chores, then in elementary school walking 7 kilometers through rain and mud, or stifling heat and dust. She was able to get secondary school education, had a baby at 16. Her parents were helpful with school fees and encouragement. They do homework by firelight or kerosene lamp. Now most have solar.

I am so impressed with the parents. One young women who works in reception and the office here is 34 and has taken the guide school training but so far has not been able to get a guiding position. She has three children who her 72 year old mom is raising along with another grandchild after raising 9 of her own. The father is supportive and they want their children to have a better life as all parents everywhere. I am in awe of the obstacles these young people have overcome to get an education. This young woman had an abusive husband and divorced him. Again something relatively rare here. Many are now marrying for lovebut before they were married off to. old men and essentially were slaves to them. Just in the preceding generation the men had three wives and with each wife having 5 to 10 kids population grew very fast. Now those kids are just having one wife and maybe 5 to 6 kids. Still too many but Things changed in one generation which is fast.

Tues night we went on a game drive in Pardamat and saw such an awe inspiring sight. There was a herd of maybe 15 elephants in the bush at the base of the hills. Sem, our Masai guide, said they will all come out at dusk to go to the nearby watering hole. Watching these huge hulks one by one appear silently out of the dark bush into the semi light with the red and orange and pink light of sunset behind them was eerie and gorgeous. I was in awe and tears. They are so big, and so silent and seem like apparitions from another world. May they live forever on this planet.

They crossed into land where the Maasai live in individual houses now and many fenced fields. We are trusting that in-time that all the people will take down their fences in this conservancy as many have so the animals can be free to go where they please and there will be a mutually beneficial environment for all.

I could go on and on. But time to post some photos.

The students breaking the ice at our mutual meeting. We danced with them.

Denise, Joanne and Stacy from UK. , The guide showing us an elephant skull we found on the drive, Breakfast in Naboisho Conservancy on one of the long days there. Here we are with Sem and Samson the guides in our truck that we call Bushbaby. It is an old hulk very uncomfortable, but we see great sights from it.

Road building with the Zebra watching us. The local Maasai women brought their wares to us to peruse and buy after the road building, Volunteers and staff preparing art to go to the primary school for the little ones to fill in the blanks with drawing animals. Thank goodness Joanne has thirty years of teaching experience and came up with great ideas for the children who are from 5 to 10 years old.

Tower of giraffe, Close up of a male giraffe neck and head,Many lions resting in the shade, Hyena nursing a baby, and a young hyena.

[vexic929]

#2 “What’s that sound?” “Don’t worry about it.” “That’s reassuring.” from this prompt list info on Berrie here

OCs are mine but based on The Flash characters

Eobard paused, his hand raised to knock on Berrie's door, as a distinctive high-pitched mewing sound reached his ears. He'd come upstairs to remind Berrie to do her homework before bed but this was clearly going to take precedence as he heard Berrie hurriedly shush whatever was making the sound. Eobard knocked on the door.

"Berrie? What's that sound?"

"Don't worry about it!" Berrie called out, a little too quickly.

"That's reassuring." He said, amusement coloring his words. "I'd rather see for myself than trust your attempts to allay my concerns with 'don't worry about it'. Open the door."

Berrie opened the door with a slight huff and Eobard stepped inside. He glanced around the room, his eyes settling on a small, orange kitten stretched across the keyboard of her laptop. Berrie rushed over and scooped it up into her arms.

"Please don't be mad, I found him outside school and I couldn't just leave him all alone! He's so cute and he needs me."

"You know the rules." Eobard replied, his voice stern. "No pets. You don't have time to take care of it and I will not be taking the responsibility myself."

Berrie's lower lip quivered and tears threatened. She refused to put the little kitten down and pressed it closer to her chest.

"Daddy, please! I promise I'll take care of him, you won't even know he's here! I'll make sure he's fed, and get him all his little cat things. I just know I can do it!"

Eobard looked at Berrie for a long moment before heaving a sigh.

"One week. You have one week to prove to me that you can take care of him by yourself. If you can't, then you'll have to find him a new home. Is that clear?"

Berrie's face lit up in a relieved smile and she nodded.

"Yes! Thank you!"

"Thank me later. For now you'd better get to the shops before they close and get some cat food and litter, then you're to come right back home and start on your homework. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" Berrie said, setting the kitten down before hugging her father tightly. Eobard chuckled and ruffled her hair.

"Go on now, hurry up."

Berrie grinned and dashed off in a sudden burst of energy leaving Eobard and the kitten in her room. He glanced down at the small creature, its fur still ruffled from where Berrie had held it close in her arms, and it mewed at him.

"You'd better behave yourself." Eobard said, giving the kitten a stern look before turning and walking out of the room.

1, 2, 4, 8, 9 for the dialogue prompts

as usual, doing them all in reblogs~

#8 “I’ve given this a lot of thought, and it still sounds like a dumb idea.” from this prompt list info on Eoland here

Siv belongs to @negative-speedforce Eoland is mine but based on The Flash characters

"I've given this a lot of thought and it still sounds like a dumb idea." Siv commented, leaning on the desk Eoland was working on.

Eoland's red eyes darted up to them briefly. "I don't believe I asked for your opinion, Sivonne." She said, clearly trying to mask her annoyance.

"You didn't have to, your track record speaks for itself. It didn't work the last time you kidnapped her, why would it work now?" Siv snorted, folding their arms across their chest.

"Last time, I didn't have the time to fully prepare. This time, everything will be perfectly in place before I act. I'm going to finally have Barbara right where I want her." Eoland replied.

"God, that's so gay. And that's coming from me." Siv rolled her eyes.

"This has nothing to do with my sexual orientation- " Eoland started.

"It has everything to do with you being the most useless fucking lesbian on this Earth. She's just not into you, Eo. It's not happening." Siv said, cutting her off.

Eoland's face darkened. "You will show me the respect I deserve." She seethed.

Siv scoffed. "I am showing you the respect you deserve, which is none. If you were smart, you'd get over Barbara and move on with your sad little life. The only reason you have the opportunity to keep fucking with her is because she's too damn soft to actually kill you."

Eoland's face twisted into a glare. "You will regret speaking to me like that, child."

Siv met her gaze. "I'm not scared of you."

"You should be."

[kaylawritesfics]

anything on being nancy wheeler's sister and dating either steve or billy ?

Being a Wheeler and Dating Billy Hargrove

headcanons

summary: dating billy while being a wheeler kid

pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader (wheeler!reader)

WARNINGS: swearing, very brief mentions of sex, mentions of abuse

note: i wanted to do one of these for billy because i haven’t written anything for him yet so :)

You met Billy right after he moved to Hawkins. Obviously, he radiated bad vibes at first. He was rude, arrogant, and not someone you had any desire to spend any amount of time with.

Then, the two of you were partnered up for an English project, which meant spending a lot of time with Billy Hargrove.

Initially, you thought it would be up to you to do the entire project. Billy didn’t exactly seem like the kind of person who would contribute to partner work at all.

However, Billy was totally infatuated with you. He thought you were the prettiest girl in Hawkins, so he did what he does best. He tried to flirt with you. Obviously, his reputation preceded him, causing you to vehemently turn him down every time.

The last thing you were gonna do was become one of Billy Hargrove’s groupies. You were not the kind of girl who was just going to fall to his feet and beg him to take you in the backseat of his camaro. This only egged him on.

He loved the fact that you weren’t gonna give into him so easily. If he really wanted you, he had to work for it. You fully expected him to get bored and move onto another girl in a weeks time.

But he didn’t. Instead, he spent most of his free time at your house, working on a stupid poster board over the symbols in Romeo and Juliet, instead of partying or hooking up with other girls.

His behavior seemed to do a complete 180. He was no longer out drinking every night, instead he was doing homework and going to bed at a reasonable hour??

Your parents loved him, especially your mother. She would often come up to your room while the two of you were working, bringing snacks or art supplies for your poster board. Billy would occasionally shoot her a flirty smile or make some kind of weird comment, which earned him a glare and a “Don’t flirt with my mom!”

Over time, you grew pretty fond of Billy. You were even sad that the deadline for your project was coming up so soon. The two of you had finished it a week before, but Billy kept coming over with the excuse of “What if we need to fix something?”

He was weirdly sweet and polite. He made you laugh and teased you over your taste in music.

Billy likes to look through your things. Not in a weird or creepy kind of way, but more in a getting-to-know-you kind of way. He tries to be respectful, avoiding your underwear drawer and anything that could be deemed too personal for his eyes, no matter how badly he wants to take a peek.

Your sister, Nancy, didn’t trust him at all. She knew his typical behavior and immediately decided that his fake niceties were just a sick ploy to get into your pants.

Nancy’s words made you question your semi-friendship with Billy. You couldn’t help but wonder how much of it was true.

Your little brother, Mike, couldn’t stand the thought of you being around Billy. Mike had firsthand accounts of how vile he was, being friends with Billy’s stepsister, Max.

Mike often tried to talk you out of seeing Billy, but to no avail.

When the two of you presented your project, you made an A, which is the best grade Billy had received in a long time. He’s actually genuinely proud and grateful.

You continue inviting him around. He comes to plenty of family dinners, which can sometimes make for an awkward experience given the fact that both your siblings detest him.

He asks you out soon after and you accept, letting Nancy and Mike’s concerns fall to the back of your mind. You had no reason not to trust Billy’s intentions.

He remained super respectful on your first date, taking you to a small diner in town. He has you home by curfew, much to your parents appreciation.

While he still manages to uphold his reputation at school, he doesn’t focus on any other girls. He remains loyal to you, showing you off in the halls as often as he can.

He walks you to and from class, holding your hand and carrying your books for you if you need.

He recognizes that he has a good thing going for him and he refuses to let his assholery ruin it for him.

Your relationship is definitely the talk of the school. Billy Hargrove and Y/N Wheeler? There’s more gossip going around than there was when Steve and Nancy first got together.

He picks you up every morning and takes you home every afternoon. You form a pretty good relationship with Max because of this.

Billy would protect you with his life. If anybody said anything bad about you, they would have to face his wrath. He gets in multiple fights for you.

After a couple months, Billy is forced to come to you after a bad fight with his dad. He pecks on your window, effectively scaring the shit out of you. You gasp when you see the state he’s in, thinking he got into another fight with a boy at school. However, your confusion grows as you notice the tears pooling in his eyes as he climbs through the window and immediately pulls you into him.

He breaks down, telling you everything he’d been holding back for so long. He tells you about his mother, about his dad’s abuse, and everything else. You clean his wounds and hold him in your bed until the sun rises and he’s forced to head back home.

Cleaning his cuts and holding him until sunrise becomes a regular occurrence after this.

After a while, Nancy comes around to the idea of your relationship. She sees how different Billy is around you and she can see how happy you are. All she wants is for you to be happy, so she eventually gives you her approval.

Mike, however, never comes around. He hates Billy and nothing can change that. It doesn’t really bother you, though.

Billy loves seeing you in his clothes, especially his jacket. Sometimes he “accidentally” leaves it in your room just so you’ll wear it the next day.

He likes sitting with you while you read or do homework. He appreciates the fact that the two of you don’t even have to talk to have a good time. He likes just being near you.

He just loves seeing you and spending time with you.

[rae-is-typing]

Being Asahi’s Crush Part One: You Catch his Eye

Notes: Soooooooo guess what i did instead of doing homework lol

Description: headcanons about the new student catching the ace’s eye, part one of four

Characters: You, the karasuno vbc (volleyball club), and some random second year

Warning: cultural faux pas are committed, asahi is an awkward bean, and noya and tanaka are being themselves

Word Count: 1.8k 

So let's say you’re a second year and a foreigner

That must be rough girl, i do not envy you

You move to the miyagi prefecture for whatever reason and begin at karasuno in the next few weeks

Your japanese is passable, but not amazing

So is your cultural awareness

You definitely do your best, but definitely make some social faux pas like mixing up honorifics or forgetting them all together, bowing too much or not enough, among other things

So you already have a reputation of clueless foreigner preceding you before you even begin school

Once again, my love, i do not envy you

Some people gave you dirty looks and silently judged you

Others thought you were adorable and a little dumb

And others thought it was amazing that you decided to come to karasuno in the first place

It was a bit hard to find things on common, especially because of the mild language barrier

You had one thing in common with a certain crow though

Asahi could never get away from the label “delinquent” 

Even though he was a living breathing teddy bear and a gentle giant

Most people took one look at him and ran

You had heard about the terrifying third year that was allegedly running a drug empire under the guise of it being a volleyball team, how he beat up an entire year of boys for not bowing to him, and how he coerced them to be drug runners afterwards

Honestly, you didn’t know whether to write them off or believe them because of how many people said similar things about him

Either way, you ignored it and went about your life in the new country

That was until you got lost on campus one day

Like hopelessly lost

I’m sure someone put out a BOLO for the foreigner

You were looking for some sort of indication of where you were and then ran straight into someone’s chest

You did fall on your ass

And you wanted to laugh and cry at the same time because while it was fucking hilarious, you just wanted to find your way to wherever it is that you’re going

Now asahi had heard the rumors about you too

He had heard that you were a loud, crass, obnoxious foreigner that was nothing but disrespectful

But he deals with the volleyball team loud, crass, and obnoxious people all the time

However his experience didn’t take away from his crippling social anxiety

So here he was, walking and lot in thought when BAM a cute girl slams into his chest and falls down

Asahi isnt dumb, he knows what people think and this looks

He immediately trips over himself apologizing and asking if you’re okay 

He feels absolutely awful

You didn’t laugh or cry, but you did feel your face warm up at the cute boy in front of you

You reassure him that you’re fine

He helps you pick up your things because again, sweet baby boy is riddled with guilt

But he sees how lost you look and asks if you need help

Totally not because he wants to keep talking to you, why would you think that, he’s trying to be a good citizen 

He helps you get to where you’re going and you thank him profusely and apologize for running into him

You touch his arm lightly out of habit

His face catches on fire

Redder than red

No color corrector is fixing that

Asahi.exe has stopped working 

*windows shutdown noise*

ANYWAYS

You realize your mistake and then apologize again, this time bowing slightly

He didn’t speak 

He’s lagging 

He’s still reeling from the cute foreigner that A) wasn’t scared for her life and B) talked to him semi-openly and C) TOUCHED HIS ARM

After a minute, he tries to stutter a quiet “it’s okay”

Key word tried

He’s interrupted by one of your fellow second years dragging you away from him

She says something along the lines of “don’t you know how dangerous he is???” and “he’ll try to get you to sell substances too”

You're so confused

You were pretty sure you saw an eye mask meant for sleeping that had a bear design on it in his bag when you first ran into him

He's literally a big baby

The gentlest giant

You look back at where he’s still standing and then back at the other second year

“Are you sure????”

They profusely nod

You look at asahi and then at her once again 

“Really? Like 10,000% sure?”

The conversation is put to end by more students coming into the area

Over the next couple weeks, you would see the so-called drug lord around campus and you made it a point to smile and give a friendly wave

It always made him blush and his heart race

Seriously, suga and daichi almost took him to the nurse one day cause it looked like he was gonna pass out

Again, rumors travel fast so it was only a matter of time before tanaka and noya found out about the fearless second year foreigner chick that not only lived to tell the tale of how the ruthless azumane kidnapped her 

Yes this is what it had become 

No it doesn't make sense seeing as you ran into him and accepted the help

Tanaka and noya, ever the opportunists, sought you out for interrogation

Deadass, you were getting ready to go when school was over and ambushed you

You had seen them with asahi a couple times but that was it

The two had a whole ass speech prepared, but forgot it when they came face to face with you

They had seen you from afar, but never up close

And you my dear Y/N, are a sight to behold

Yes you are

Stop arguing with me

What i say goes mkay

They immediately forget everything and just kinda stare

And you”re like ????? can i help you?

And when they hear your accent, they are shocked even further

Stunned

Astonished

dumb

Dumbfounded

Their flabbers are gasted

So you just side step and keep walking

When they finally realize you left, they immediately run to find you

But they stood there for way too fucking long and you were nowhere to be found

So they do the next best thing: hunt down the ace for interrogation

It wasn’t fair, okay?

Why did he get the pretty foreigner??????

So that practice, noya and tanaka are late 

Surprise, surprise said no one

Dadchi and sugamama are none too pleased, neither is the coach or Takeda

Instead of excuses, the two chaotic second years scream

“ASAHI WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US SHE WAS AN ANGEL SENT FROM THE HEAVENS”

I’m pretty sure all of the prefecture heard them

Asahi.exe has stopped working part two electric boogaloo

At any mention of the cute second year waving instead of running in fear, he lost all functioning brain cells

The rest of the team is confused

Hinata tilts his head like a puppy

Kageyama is probably yelling at him

Suga gets his popcorn ready

Daichi is still mad at the second years

Yachi is scared because of the yelling poor thing

Kiyoko is over it, but still mildly curious

Tsukki is very over it with no curiosity 

Yams is confused as fuck

Asahi tries and fails to give an explanation

Everyone is bombarding him with questions 

“She? As in a girl?”

“Asahi interacts with girls?”

“Did you scare her off?”

“Girl? What girl?!”

“Azumane finally got a girlfriend!”

Daichi yells at everyone and practice goes on

For some reason, you end up in the third years hallway

Lets say you were delivering a paper to another staff member during lunch

And once again, you were lost

Maybe start carrying a compass and a map everywhere you go my love

And once again, you run into asahi

Once again, you fall

Once again, asahi is riddled with guilt 

BUT THIS TIME Daichi and Suga see the whole thing

They thought you would be scared or get mad, but instead you blessed their ears with a laugh

“This has got to stop happening,” You joke

He apologizes profusely again while helping you up

Suga does not waste this chance to tease the both of you

“Is this the cute girl that Tanaka and Nishinoya were screaming about? I can see why now.”

Asahi.exe has stopped working part three

Daichi rolls his eyes, but definitely stores this interaction in the back of his mind to use later

“Aren’t you a second year? Why are you all the way over here?”

“Yeah, I am. One of the teachers asked me to bring this over for another faculty member, but I got lost. Again.” 

“Again?” Suga asks

You nod and laugh, not taking the situation too seriously “Ahaa, yeah. I think they ask me to deliver things as some sort of practical joke at this point.”

“Well Asahi would be happy to show you.” Daichi says

“Oh are you sure? I don’t want to take up any of your time!”

Suga waves off your concern and comes up with a quick lie “Daichi and I were just about to have a captains-only meeting. Asahi isn’t a captain, so would have kicked him out anyways,” 

“Suga is right, we do have some pretty serious things to discuss.”

To you, the mischievous glint in the two captains’ eyes were nothing but them being friendly, but to asahi, it spelled certain death

He stood, still blushing as the two walked off

It takes a minute, but he shows you to the faculty member

And you get to talk to him a bit more

You ask about his friends and the meeting between captains

He can't apologize enough for the behavior of his underclassmen

Most people would be weirded out by it, reasonably so

But then you shock him

“No worries! Actually, I think it's sweet that they care about you,”

So now asahi is taking stock

This is what you have going for you my dear Y/N:

You arent scared of him or his looks

You can laugh off situations that mortify him

You think his friends are sweet

You’re fucking stunning

There was one more thing that he wanted to know

“So I heard you play volleyball?”

Mind blown

You were also psychic

“Uh, yeah, I have for years.”

“That's awesome! I love volleyball. I used to play all the time at my old school, I even managed before I moved.”

That's it

You were perfect

Wedding? Planned

Names of future pets? Picked

Crops? Watered

Skin? Cleared

Hotel? Trivago

Deadass, mans plans your wedding at the spot

PLS HE WOULD GET SO EXCITED

But he would be so shy about it tooooo ugh i love this man so much

What seemed like an innocuous comment to you made up his mind

He was gonna ask you out

tune in for part two next thursdaaayyyyyy

[mp100fanworkstranslation]

He too, is an evil spirit PART 2

PART I Here

Tome: Thanks for coming with me to pick up my stuff Ekubo-chan. Ekubo: Heh Youre a student. How could you forget your homework? Tome: Hehe -They round the corner and there’s sounds of arguing- Tome: Huh? Ekubo: Huh? Voice: You made me feel so good after. Reigen: Well thats really…. Voice: I wanted to ask for your help again, and I never thought I’d run into you here. It’s too much of a coincidence. It must be….

Ekubo: What are they doing? Who is that? Man: You saved me! It was all your doing. Reigen: Im glad to hear that. Man: I’d love to have you over so I can properly thank you. Please come to my place. It’s very close to here. Reigen: Oh you dont have to thank me. It’s my job. I couldnt possibly accept.

man: It’s really very close! Reigen: I’m so sorry, today is a bit inconvienent. Ekubo: Why is it this guy (Reigen) who’s run across an unsavor character? Tome: What a needy client... Man: Surely, you’ll accept, right Master Reigen? I’d love a personal massage from you. Reigen: I’m sorry, Curse removal house calls are not part of the service package that we offer.

Tome: Ugh gross Tome thinks: Oh

Ekubo: Hey Reigen Got Trouble? Reigen: Ekubo

Reigen: Oh no, He was just on his way home, right? Man: Um well... uh.... yeah,... sure. I’ll see you around then.

Reigen: Ow! The hell are you doing?!

Ekubo: He transferred his obsession... things like this arent worth eating. He grabs it and it pops. 

Reigen:?  Ah, Tome, did you pick up your things?  Tome: Ive got everything, Thank you Mr. Reigen. Reigen: As you just witnessed, there’s  dangerous stuff out here. It’s best you head straight home.  Tome: Okay

Ekubo: That situation didnt look good... and why are you come along? Reigen: I wrapped up earlier than expected. Why don’t you go return your body and I’ll take Tome home. Ekubo: So then... who’s taking you home. Reigen: What?  Ekubo: um Ekubo thinks: Shit....  Reigen: Hey... You....uh... Ekubo: Apologies, I did not mean to imply you were an idiot or anything Reigen: Sounds like you did.  And how long were you going to hold on to that body anyway.  Look, I appreciate the concern, but enough is enough. You can’t keep doing this. Ekubo: I’m aware

Reigen: If youre aware, why don’t you get going? Ekubo: This guy works the night shift today, so it’s not problem if he sleeps later. Reigen: I know but...

Tome: So then... this too is a form of favortism is it not? 

Tome: Ekubo-chan is an evil spirit, so he shows a kind of favortism for certain people.  Ekubo:................ Reigen: Um...Wha.... Tome: He said so earlier.  Tome: Isnt that an odd thing to say? He said it was because he’s an evil spirit. | Reigen:..... Ekubo: Having favoritism for specific people is something that humans have too, you know. 

(Note: I’m not sure if theres a better word for this, but the term that’s being used is Favoritism + Preferential Treatment. Ie. treating someone better than other people, because you like them. Like a positive bias thing.)

Reigen: Tomechan, we’ve.... lets leave it at that.   Tome: Huh?

-Narration- I don’t quite understand how these two relate to each other . If I had to describe it, theyre like bastard friends that still for some reason trust one another. 

-Narration- Bastard friend (This is kind of hard to describe, but it’s a bad friend that brings out the worst in you.) Friend Employee It doesn’t really matter what you call it. What ever it you call it, it ought to be preceded by the phrase “An Important”  Whether it’s giving importance to the other... or for you yourseld to be regarded held up as important.....they seem happier around each other because for it. It’s like the calming glow of single bulb at the dark core of them both. 

Tome: So then.... one would give preferential treatment to someone they’d assigned a special importance to. I guess an evil spirit would think in that manner.  Reigen: Please kill me Tome: Evil spirits are so difficult to analyze... Ekubo: I’m being analyzed?

-Narration- The evil spirit will be back at the consultation office tomorrow. Because he has a kind of affinity towards the boss

-Narration- No one is asking him to come, and he has not obligation to be there. He does so out of a kind of favoritism, bringing a kind of caring of his own accord.  Tome: Ah....So....do you know what he smells like? -Narration- I guess this is fine Reigen:You mean Ekubo? How would I know? Ekubo is sniffing his sleeve: Cigarettes. This guy smells like cigarettes, Im pretty sure.

-Narration- As for reason? It’s because he’s an evil spirit.  (Note: Im not sure who is speaking below:) Reigen: Can I take a whiff? 

Ekubo: Wha..This idea that people have their own unique smells to people isn’t a thing. This is ridiculous,

Tome: Guys? 

Reigen: I feel like he’d should smell like cucumbers

Tome: Hey Guys? GUYS!