#we don't need your weird shit in there? you'll just get blocked

[evankinkley]

listen, if you post buddie content in the lou ferrigno jr tag, automatic block. what are you trying to achieve?

[theycalledhimastar]

I may love Kyle, but I can totally admit when he acts like a total weirdo (he doesn't, he's perfect).

☄. *.

Alright, for starters, man takes up all the counter space with his stuff. Unlike Simon, he is very loyal to his brands and he has a longer face care routine than you do.

Just look at his perfect skin and tell me I'm wrong because you can't, that shit's flawless and he intends to keep it that way.

Every towel in the bathroom smells like him whether or not he's used it and you will never ever figure out why.

(It's because he probably used it-)

"Kyle, did you use my towel after your shower?"

"No, why?"

"Because it literally smells like your bodywash."

"How do I know you didn't just use my bodywash?"

Don't make this about me, Kyle Garrick. You know what you did, you're just lucky your shampoo is easy on the senses. He's the one task force member that seems to be able to differentiate between what smells good and what is altogether too much.

The type of guy to have long, gorgeous eyelashes and always, ALWAYS complain about them getting in his eyes.

Like suck it up pretty boy, you're literally living my dream here with those baby doll eyelashes of yours.

He also knows it pisses you off so he tries not to mention when it happens, so you'll just catch him sitting there on the couch blinking like a madman. Trying his darndest to get the annoying eyelash from his eye without drawing attention to it. Although really and truly this just makes it more noticeable and kinda funny to watch.

Applies Chapstick in that really weird way that guys do it where they make a duck face, except he's fully self aware, he just knows it weirds you out so he exaggerates it further.

"Babe what are you doing, that's not how you apply chapstick."

"What do you mean, there's no right way to do it." :0

SLEEPS WITH HIS SOCKS ON BECAUSE HIS FEET ARE ALWAYS FREEZING!!!

Like thank you for sparing me from those absolute ice blocks, but like babe, that is unnatural. It is cruel and unusual and I will not stand for it!!

(Socks stay on during sex-)

Also prolly wears long sleeves and pants to bed regardless of how warm it is because he swears its more comfortable. Bro going to bed fully dressed, all he needs are shoes smh.

On a similar note, his hands are always cold, but instead of putting them in his front pockets or his jacket pockets like a normal guy, he walks around with his hands in his back pockets given the chance.

Doesn't think it's weird, but he walks around leaned back in order to do it and it looks goofy as hell.

Willing to advocate for you and it's really sweet, except it'll be for every single little thing. Like not just ketchup that you ordered but didn't get, if you off-handedly mention that whatever you ordered is kinda cold, he is on it immediately.

"Hey, uh, my Partner here says their food is a little cold, is there any way we could fix that please?"

Like he's not rude about it, but you still want to die inside because it's not a big deal and he doesn't seem to get that you really weren't complaining or trying to get him to fix it.

[hannieween]

bad idea | backstage series | l.sm

It was all an act. A mantra you repeated to yourself since the moment you first kissed. You'd made a pact with Seokmin to remain friends. Yet even when his touch seemed like wildfire, you clung to the fragile threads of that promise, as you felt yourself melting at the touch of his lips.

♡︎ pairings: lee seokmin x afab!reader ♡︎ genre: angst, smut mdni you'll get blocked ♡︎ aus: theatre performer seokmin,fake dating with benefits ♡︎ word count: 10.8k

↣ part 1 – part 2 – navi post

₊🎧: i.m - more ♡︎ | kiss of fire - woodz

₊ nsfw tags under the cut

♡︎ warnings: multiple mentions of food and alcohol, swearing, smut with plot, pet names: baby, noodle (hers), soft dom seokmin, big dick seokmin, multiple unprotected sex scenes, unprotected sex in public spaces (1), doggystyle, creampie, oral sex (f, m), soft-edging, a bit of praise kink (f) drama | i wrote this at 3am so sorry if there's any mistakes weird time jumps in narration again sorry

part 3

The pain in your chest was almost unbearable.

You found support with your hands on your knees, breathing hard under the scorching bright midday sunlight.

"I'm calling it," Seungkwan announced, he was pretending to look for your pulse with two fingers under your jaw. "She's dead. Or will be. Soon. I give her twenty two seconds."

"Shut up, Kwan," you laughed brushing his hand away. "I'm just out of practice, okay?"

"Well, no shit, dummy," he laughed. "You've been spending too much time with your boyfriend now, you barely have time for volley."

His white sneakers came into your view, so bright under the sunlight that almost blinded you. Seungkwan patted you in the back twice, and walked off.

"Yeah, that and the fact that we've been going for hours," you stood upright. "Can we go? I really need to eat something otherwise I'll truly die."

He scoffed and brushed sweat from his brow with a towel. "Fine. But you're buying."

"What? Why me?" you whined, still breathless. "It's your turn!"

He turned to the bleachers to grab his stuff, and you followed. "Consider it as pay up for standing me up last tuesday."

"I've told you already that I'm sorry for that!" you whine again when you grab your duffel bag and follow him away from the volleyball court.

"Buy me coffee and I'll think about it."

Seungkwan wasn't angry at you. You knew that. He just liked playing with your head because he knew you still felt guilty for standing him up.

So you bought him iced coffee and a bowl of yogurt parfait.

"Now, you're trying to get under my good graces again," he said feigning dignity, lifting his chin up and eyeing you up and down.

"Well, I truly am sorry for standing you up," you said as you dug into your bowl. "I know I should've texted. I was... busy."

Your best friend saw your cheeks flush. "Oh, keep the details to yourself, please," he said, threatening to throw his plastic spoon at you. "I don't wanna know what you two were doing."

Last tuesday you woke up to find your friend, Seokmin, lying in bed next to you.

He was lying face down, his muscly arms around his head and hugging the pillow his face was half buried in, your lavender bed sheets covered him up to his lower back, leaving his bare back to your view.

On his back were pink scratch marks that you had made on him the night before. Then you understood the fixation he had for the hickeys he gave you on your neck.

You resisted the urge to touch him. To use your fingertips to connect lines between his moles and freckles of his face. Even asleep, he looked beautiful.

Silently, you grabbed the first piece of clothing from the floor and left your bedroom in search for your phone. The scent of Seokmin's plaid shirt coated you when you put in on closing a few buttons.

As you made your way out the bedroom, you noticed your muscles blissfully sore and tired from the day before. So in your search, you took the opportunity to drink water and take something for the pain.

Your jeans were tossed on one side of your couch, and right there you found your phone just a few minutes before your first alarm went off at 7 am.

An hour later, you had prepared breakfast and coffee when Seokmin emerged from your room, wearing his jeans and putting his white tank top on. His face and hair were slightly wet, which you assumed he had washed himself before joining you in the kitchen.

"Morning," you chirped.

You saw him glance your body up and down, noticing you were wearing his grey plaid shirt.

"G'morning," he pressed his lips in a smile.

"Are you hungry?" you asked with a shaky voice because for some reason you felt nervous under his gaze.

"Famished," he muttered.

You pushed a plate full of scrambled eggs, toast and bacon onto the counter of your tiny kitchen, which had two stools that already came with the lease for your otherwise mostly empty apartment.

Seokmin eyed you, a sweet smile on his lips. "I feel spoiled," he quipped and sat on a stool. "How can I repay you?"

"It's just breakfast. Chill," you laughed and handed him a cup of coffee.

"Still," he said while munching on his toast. "The next one's on me."

"What, you'll cook for me?" you asked, incredulous.

"Of course not," he chuckled. "I'll take you somewhere you won't die from food poisoning."

When you saw his sweet smile, a sharp pain tugged in your stomach. He was so cute that it gave you the same feeling you felt whenever you saw a squishy so cute you wanted to squeeze it.

You realized that you too had a smile on your face while you ate breakfast with him.

When Seokmin helped you clean the kitchen, he sang while doing so. It was usual for him, whenever he had a new role he did that, he would just break into song loudly and perfectly. He was known for doing that and it turned into a bit when you were in uni. The menace walking in the halls before class, singing loudly at 8 in the morning.

But you liked it. You've always liked it even when he only sang the same lyrics over and over again every five minutes. Each time was better than the one before it.

Now as he had to rehearse the songs for his role, he sang them from start to finish while you finished doing the dishes. Like your personal little show.

His voice was warm, it was like sunshine warming your chest after a cold cloudy morning.

He was sitting on a stool, scrolling through his phone while still humming some tune. You had finished doing the dishes already and he noticed, lifting his head to see you.

You had been quiet for a while, and it wasn't just because you were listening to him.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" he asked.

You approached where he was sitting and leaned on the kitchen counter next to him. You chewed the inside of your cheek, deciding where to begin.

"I uh... never thanked you for what you did when my ex was talking to me," you breathed. "I didn't know how to get out of that situation and you helped me. Thank you for that."

He blinked and put his phone down. "You don't have to thank me for that," his brow furrowed a bit. "Even if I wasn't your fake boyfriend, I would have done it."

"Well, I felt like saying thanks because it meant a lot to me," you mumbled, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt that fit you a bit too large.

"You never told me what he said to you," he reminded you.

You rolled your eyes at the memory. "He says he's happy that I moved on. And that he wants to put everything behind us," you chewed on the inside of your lip. "He never once said he was sorry, though."

"Does an apology from him mean anything to you?" Seokmin mused, "I mean, given all the shit he has said and done to you."

"It doesn't," you put in simply. "It doesn't mean anything to me anymore. But I'm still angry that I didn't have the guts to tell him that."

Seokmin's eyes darkened. "It's not worth it," he muttered. "I don't think he deserves your forgiveness."

That made you smile. "That's a bit extreme."

"I mean it. He's an asshole. He broke your heart," if he didn't look serious before, he did now.

Your lips quivered a little bit when you tried to hold your laugh in.

"Don't laugh," he muttered with pouting lips.

"You're cute when you're angry," you laughed.

"I'm not angry," he countered, still pouting his lips but then he broke into a smile.

"Bullshit, Lee Seokmin," you smiled, landing a soft slap on his shoulder.

"Shut up," he muttered and grabbed your hand with his as it landed on his skin.

Then he yanked your hand towards his body, pulling you between his legs as he was still sitting on the stool, now you were face to face, the counter digging at your back.

"You're such a tease, do you know that?" he muttered with a playful smile, before capturing your lips with his.

Hands gripped your hips and after squeezing once he decided that it wasn't enough so he dipped them under his plaid shirt, finding your bare skin with a groan.

"I like how you look with my stuff on," he growled before crushing his mouth on yours again, tongues lapping and sinking his teeth on your lips.

Then he stood up from the stool, pushing it back as his hands on your hips lifted you up and took you to the bedroom. You let out a yelp when your back hit your bed, but as soon as his lips found yours again you immediately wrapped your legs around him.

His left hand made his way to the base of your head, grabbing your hair to pull your head back. A moan left your lips as he dipped his head to kiss your sensitive neck, he had made hickeys there so he was now kissing them softly.

The other hand was placed on your hip, under his shirt. He traced circles on your skin softly, sending shivers down your body.

"Seokmin," you gasped when his tongue slid on the crook of your neck.

"Mmm?" he hummed in your ear. "Want me to stop?"

The question wasn't genuine. It sounded gentle on his voice, but you knew he was taunting you. You muttered some incoherencies under your breath, you didn't even know why you called his name but sure as hell you didn't want him to stop.

"Mm? I didn't catch that," he muttered.

"Do that again, please," you whimpered.

A sigh brushed your collarbones and you could tell he was smiling when he found the sensitive spot on your neck again and planted a wet kiss on it before lapping your already tingling skin with his tongue.

That drew a moan out your mouth. And suddenly you were too conscious of all the noise you've been making.

But Seokmin's fingers pulled the shirt you were wearing up to reveal the lower half of your body. He kissed you sweetly on your sternum, all the way down to the band of your panties.

You noticed that he ignored your chest area, but didn't think too much about it. Two of his fingers came down to your clothed pussy, feeling that the fabric of your underwear was already wet in your arousal.

You jolted at the touch, even if he wasn't really touching you. "Seokmin, please. Stop teasing me."

He deposited one chaste kiss on your mouth. "We're going to have to make this quick," he said quickly. "I don't have much time."

Then he broke away and stood from the bed, your legs falling on the mattress as you watched him take off his tank top and jeans. You followed suit and begun to undo the buttons of his plaid shirt.

He patted one of your hands with his. "Stop that," he muttered. Then he removed your panties and tossed them away.

You watched as he knelt down before your bed. He was just wearing his underwear, his cock so hard that it was pressing against the dark fabric. Seeing him kneeling after you on your bedroom floor did something to you, it made you salivate, widen your eyes, it made your core throb with anticipation.

And before you knew what was coming, he yanked you down on your bedsheets grabbing you by your legs. So now your ass was by the border of the mattress, and he was between your thighs.

"Put your legs on my shoulders," he muttered softly.

When you did so, he ran a finger down your core, and now you held in a breath. "You have the prettiest pussy. Have I told you that?"

You felt your cheeks flush, not knowing what to answer really.

But he was wasting no time. Rolling up the shirt to your belly button, he placed his hands on your lower belly, pressing down gently at the same time he dipped his head down on your core.

Soon you forgot about not being loud. You rolled your eyes and arched your back, moaning loudly.

Starting by lapping on your folds, Seokmin moved his head up and down to lick you fully. The tip of his tongue traced a circle around your clit, before sucking on it. And as if testing what made you scream louder, he also pressed his tongue flatly on your clit and moved his head.

You felt your legs tense up, and grabbed onto the sheets of the bed, trying to wriggle your hips against his face desperately but the hands on your belly pressed down with more strength restrained you completely.

He repeated the same process, licking, sucking and teasing your clit. To whatever he did, you wouldn't stop moaning his name, pleading for him to not stop.

Until you realized that he was edging you. Whenever you felt closer to your release, he'd notice it and change to either just licking your folds, or sucking your clit, or tracing circles around it.

"Seokmin," you breathed. "Let me cum, please."

He just hummed in response, as if he were pondering on it while he continued teasing your cunt. His tongue came up to your clit, and as he did, his eyes landed on your face.

A groan came out through your gritted teeth and you arched your back, closing your eyes tightly. The tension in your core was almost unbearable.

"Seokmin," your fingers tangled in his soft copper hair. "Please. Just let me-ugghh fuck. Fuckfuckfuck."

He continued sucking on your clit, without changing in pace or movement, he sucked while moving his head up and down ever so slightly over and over, sending you over the edge.

Your orgasm hit you, hard. You felt your body tremble as it took you in erratic waves. It left you breathless and you had closed your eyes so tightly that when you opened them again, you had to blink a few times to regain focus.

Small kisses landed on your mound, and then made their way back to your belly. You felt exhausted, but still pulled him into a sloppy wet kiss when he climbed back on the bed. He motioned you to move back to the centre of the bed and as you did, he planted wet kisses on your face.

A chuckle was muffled by your mouth when your fingers tugged clumsily at the band of his underwear. He took them off and climbed back, his body hovering closely on top of you.

"Should I take the shirt off?" you asked, feeling that it was weird that he hadn't taken off of you yet.

"Leave it on," he muttered at the same time he leaned down and placed one elbow next to your head.

"Why?" your brow furrowed.

Your head was within his hand's reach, so he dug his fingers in your hair and placed a kiss on your chin.

"I want to fuck you in it."

You didn't think about it further. You knew it might be a possessive thing. But just as you liked the scratch marks on his back and the hickeys you had on your neck, you liked the idea of him fucking you wearing his shirt.

"Is that okay?" he asked in a soft tone.

"Yeah," your brow furrowed. "I'm okay with everything you give me."

A satisfied smile appeared on his face. It shocked you a little that you even find it arousing to see him smile while having sex.

"You'll let me do anything to you?" he muttered, capturing your lips with his briefly.

"Anything," you nodded eagerly. You grabbed his cock with one hand and guided it to your core. Earning another soft chuckle from him. You thought he'd chastise you again about being impatient but he didn't say anything about it.

He didn't warn you this time, his cock was already aligned with your core so he just started sinking in. You pushed your knees back, lifting your feet from the mattress and thus angling your hips for him. He groaned and dropped his head on the crook of your neck.

Your hands held onto his naked shoulders as his hips dipped in a few shallow thrusts and you stopped biting your lip when he was fully inside you.

"God," you whimpered. "So fucking big."

He had a light smile on his lips when he found your lips to give you a few tentative kisses. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you breathed and pointed a finger at him. "Just don't edge me this time."

He started thrusting on you without any warning again. "Don't be a tease, then," he placed a chaste kiss on your lower lip. "Can you do that?"

His thrusts landed so deep inside you that you let out a cry. "Yes," you replied without much thinking.

"Yes, what?" he muttered while grazing his teeth across your chin.

"I won't be a tease," you said as you let out a strangled moan when his thrusts became more unrestrained, slamming on you.

"Good girl," he whispered before his lips slid in yours.

The room flooded with the sounds of skin slapping together along with your loud moans that slowly would turn into gasps.

Seokmin watched you intently. There was something in his eyes, you couldn't quite tell what it was. But you thought that he was tense and you concluded that he was probably trying to get this done quickly.

You moved your hands to cup his face. The sleeves of his shirt were so long that covered your arms up to your knuckles. You pulled him into a hot kiss of teeth clashing and groans from both you and him.

"God," you sighed when you pulled your head back to the bed, feeling your body sink into a wave of pleasure.

Seokmin dropped his head next to yours, his face burying in your hair lying in the crook of your neck. You could hear his strangled low moans in your ear.

"You feel so good, baby," he muttered with a tense voice.

You nibbled at the soft skin of his shoulder, caressing his back over the scratch marks you'd left the previous night. Seokmin was breathing harder on your neck, and you were tempted to tell him to just let go. But then he pulled out, his hips retracting from your fully.

A shiver ran down your spine at the loss of warmth and him inside you. But you didn't move, didn't touch him. With a groan, he visibly shuddered and waited for a few seconds.

Before you could say something, he lifted his head from the crook of your neck, and deposited open mouthed kisses on your lips. "Turn around, baby," he muttered in a strangled voice.

Seokmin sat back on his heels and when you did as he asked, he grabbed your hips with his hands, propping you up on your elbows and knees on the bed. You squealed at the roughness with which he grabbed you, but you didn't complain. You liked it.

Feeling his hands move from your hips to your lower back made you angle yourself in anticipation. Moving the fabric of his shirt up, he pressed a hand gently on your back before he eased himself in. You moaned loudly at the feeling of having him deeper in you and you heard him hiss.

His hands moved from your back and he placed them on the bed, soon you felt his back on yours as he pounded his hips against your backside hard enough you knew it would leave bruises. You heard his breath hitched next to your ear and then he groaned.

"Seokmin," you whined and shut your eyes tightly, trying to savour the feeling of him being inside you as much as you could.

Seokmin was panting behind you between the small kisses he left on the back of your neck. "Cum for me, baby," he whispered.

You slid a hand between your thighs, your fingers rubbing your clit to reach your release faster. Suddenly you let your face bury on the pillow, thus angling your hips towards him even more, which earned a groan from him. It only took a couple of thrusts from him to achieve what he asked.

The pillow muffled the loud sounds that were coming out of your mouth, and your hand grabbed at the corners of it while the other rubbed your clit sloppily.

The orgasm shook your body so hard, it had you squirming and grabbing at the sheets until you were reduced to strangled sounds and panting.

"Fuck," he groaned behind you and hearing his voice so taut in pleasure made your body respond with a shiver.

Then his hands were on your hips again, his thrusts became shallow and fast as he rolled the shirt up your back uncovering it completely and before you knew it, he pulled out. A soft groan resounded behind you when warm cum landed on your ass and lower back.

You felt your skin prickle at the sensation of his cum on your back. But you waited, trying not to move but your limbs were shaking, breathing loudly against your pillow.

"Don't move. I'm going to get something to clean you up," Seokmin said climbing off the bed.

Soon he was returning to clean your back. "Done," he muttered and patted you in the ass lightly, making you yelp in surprise.

Slowly, you let your body drop on the bed sheets, limbs shaking badly, panting loud enough to make you feel embarrassed. You rolled over and thought for a moment that Seokmin would lie next to you to catch his breath with you.

But he just leaned towards you to kiss your forehead, your cheek and then your lips. "You're always so good to me, baby," he muttered.

A warm feeling overwhelmed you. Your skin was bumpy from a mix of the frenzy and from Seokmin's warm compliment.

"I thought you were going to be quick," your voice was hoarse when you spoke again as he made his way out of your bedroom.

"Are you complaining?" he called back, and you could imagine he was smiling.

"No," you mumbled, but he was out of earshot.

You heard the shower running and you groaned.

"Come on. Let's get cleaned up," you heard him say and before you could move, he was taking you in his arms.

"Oh my god," you whined. "I can get there on my own."

You opened your eyes to see him smiling. "Let me take care of you," he mumbled as he set you down on the bathroom floor. "Arms up."

His shirt came off your body easily. And then you were standing under the stream of water.

"Was that okay? Was I too hard?" he asked as soon as he joined you in the shower.

"I'm fine. I like it," you hummed.

"Like what?" he cocked his head to the side.

"When you're a bit rough with me," you muttered, feeling a bit embarrassed.

He pressed his lips in a smile, showing his small dimple under the side of his mouth. "I know. I heard. Pretty sure your neighbours heard, too."

A hand landed on his chest, hitting him softly. "Shut up, Seokmin," you laughed.

"I like that you're loud," he shrugged.

"I know," you quipped. "I also noticed."

Grinning, he rolled his eyes and continued washing his body. He was lifting his arms up to wash his hair, and you saw him as the water ran down on his face with his eyes closed, his mouth parted a bit when he tilted his head back towards the stream of water.

The sunlight that came from the small window up in the bathroom clashed with the stream of water, thus painting a rainbow between Seokmin and you.

Your stomach twisted a bit.

When you returned to your bedroom, Seokmin was already half dressed. A travel toothbrush which he kept on his backpack he took for rehearsals, was hanging on his mouth.

He raised a hand at you and you threw his plaid shirt at him, which he caught gracefully and quickly put on. Then he went back to the bathroom to rinse his mouth.

"You should bring some of your clothes," you suggested when he came back to your bedroom.

Seokmin lifted his head to see you, then averted his gaze with a furrowed brow. "Uh..."

"If you want, I mean," you shrugged. "I don't mind. Plus, it could save you the effort for next time, y'know?"

"Sure, I'll keep it in mind," he replied, but there was something in his tone that wasn't really convincing. You decided not to push it.

He took his things from the nightstand and walked up to you.

"Sorry, I have to go. I'm already late."

You were about to reply to him that you were okay with his abrupt leave, but then he planted a kiss goodbye on your mouth. It was so quick that it made you stutter, and you almost assumed that Seokmin didn't initially mean to do that when you saw his alarmed eyes and quickly left your room.

It was fast, but it showed a lot of intimacy to you. Seokmin didn't normally kiss you outside sex. He only did it whenever you acted like a fake couple.

"Bye," you mumbled, but the door of your apartment was already slamming shut.

You sat on the edge of your bed, absentmindedly touching your lips with your fingers when your phone buzzed. In the back of your mind, you thought that you might have earned a noise complaint from your neighbours.

But looking at the screen, you groaned.

It was a text message from Seungkwan, you had stood him up.

A noise complaint would've been better.

"Are you there?" Seungkwan asked, pulling you out of your train of thought.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry. What were you saying?" you mumbled. Seungkwan had already finished eating his food. You were barely halfway through.

"I said," he was looking at something at his phone screen. "Are you going to be at Minghao's dinner party this saturday?"

"Yes, I think I can make it," you replied. "Maybe I can ask Jae to cover me."

He shook his head. "He's already covering me."

"Umm, I'll ask around, but I'll be there."

"Good. Now, can we go?" he set his phone down and looked at you. "We're going to be late for our shift. And you take forever to finish your food."

"Okay, okay, let's go. But we're even, right?"

Seungkwan rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but break into a smile.

The hickeys on your neck had all healed. You had been concealing them, either with makeup or by wearing turtlenecks and scarves. Given the demands of your profession, where you had to protect your vocal cords by keeping your chest covered, nobody really asked about the extra coverage.

But as you looked in the mirror, you didn't find any trace Seokmin's lips on your skin anymore. You decided to wear a black dress to Minghao's dinner party. According to the invitation details, he wanted everyone to wear something fancy.

So that's what you did. You thought the dress was on par with the intent of the night, and you imagined that it was something Minghao would approve.

It was semi long, it didn't show too much but it flattered your body in the best way possible. You paired it jewellery and red details on your makeup.

The style of the dress left her neckline and collar bones exposed, so you felt a little relieved that you didn't have to cover hickeys for tonight. It saved you some time.

It has been over a week since you last saw Seokmin. You two were busy anyway so you didn't think much of it. But you missed him. You found yourself anticipating the next time you saw each other.

In addition to the excitement, you were surprisingly in a good mood. You even noticed some positive changes in your daily routine; you started exercising more regularly and reconnecting with friends you had drifted away from during the toughest days after your breakup.

You even purchased a few pieces of furniture for your apartment to give it a cosier, more lived-in feel that truly reflected that you enjoyed living there alone. Because, truthfully, you did.

A buzz came from your bedroom, and you went to investigate that your phone had a few new messages from Seokmin.

[06:12 PM] seokminnie: noddle [06:12 PM] seokminnie: i'm picking you up at 7 [06:12 PM] seokminnie: for hao's party [06:12 PM] seokminnie: be ready :)

You couldn't help but smile at the nickname he used for you. Noodle. He was the only one who still called you that since university. Over time, you had developed a love-hate relationship with the nickname, but hearing it from him, you couldn't bring yourself to complain anymore.

[06:13 PM] you: okidoki :) [06:13 PM] seokminnie: okidoki? [06:13 PM] seokminnie: god you're such a dork [06:13 PM] you: shut up you like me either way :P

That was the end of your conversation so far.

You were already bubbling with anticipation to meet him once more. You were eager to show him the new additions you'd made to your apartment and to share the news that you were in the final auditions for another play.

While there wasn't any official confirmation about the role yet, you felt optimistic. You were putting your best effort into it, and for the first time, you felt that even if you didn't secure it, you would be okay. After all, you had your sights set on other projects too.

There was a knock on your door and since you were sitting in the kitchen, you ran to get it in two seconds.

Seokmin was standing there. Your eyes absorbed everything about him. His copper hair was parted slightly, his bangs brushing his eyebrows a little. He looked between laid back and still fitting for the night; black jeans, white shirt and a denim jacket.

"Hiii," you chanted.

He blinked, a grin appearing on his lips. "Hi there," he muttered.

Your stomach twisted a bit and before anything else was said you moved aside to let him in.

"Just let me get my bag and we can go," you grabbed your phone and your bag from the kitchen counter.

"Aren't you forgetting your shoes, noodle?" you hear him call.

"Oh, yes!" you laughed.

You had your shoes ready by the entrance of your apartment, and while putting them on, Seokmin held out a hand for you for you to remain on your feet.

"Thanks," you smiled at him.

"Ready?"

"Yeah," you breathed, somehow feeling agitated.

"Let's go," he smiled sweetly again and for a moment you fought the impulse of pulling him to your lips.

"Okidoki," you said promptly and followed him out your apartment and locked the door.

"Dork," he laughed.

You chuckled and when you both stepped into the elevator, you felt your mouth go dry. Suddenly you felt nervous to be in such an enclosed space with him.

But he was looking at his phone distractively.

The ride there was... odd. Not what you had expected entirely. He didn't say much and was too busy looking at his phone so you decided you didn't want to pry.

When you got there you saw some familiar faces outside the fancy restaurant. The guests were gathering outside the door, queueing to get their names and id's checked before entry.

Everyone looked elegant. When you saw some girls dressed in the same manner and style you were wearing you felt relieved, since you were doubting on being too much or not quite so.

You turned to Seokmin, who was just putting his phone on the pocket of his jeans and when he lifted his head to see you, he smiled softly. He caught up with you and as he did so, your hands touched for a moment.

You thought it was natural to just grab his hand, locking your fingers in his.

"Sorry. I was fixing an appointment for the costume fitting," he muttered, looking at the ground.

"For a moment there I thought you might be fake cheating on me," you smiled, but as soon as you blurted out the words, your heart dropped. Too far.

"You think I'd do something so horrible?" he asked dramatically, putting his free hand on his chest.

You smiled in relief. "Well, we haven't really talked about it. I don't know, you might want to start seeing someone for real," you shrugged.

His brow furrowed. "What if I don't?" he mused. "What if I enjoy being your fake boyfriend?"

"Then you're in luck because I enjoy you as my fake boyfriend too. It's fun," you smiled up at him.

You expected to see him smile, but instead he looked deep in thought.

As you joined the queue, the grip on your hand tightened gently. And you knew why. Your ex was in the queue, with a new girl wrapped in his arm. This girl you had never seen before, it wasn't the same girl he cheated on you with.

Your ex's eyes went through the crowd and your eyes met.

Seokmin was behind you, so he let go of your hand but his arms were encircling you from behind. A soft kiss landed on your temple and you shivered at the feeling of him so close to you.

"Are you okay?" he asked on your ear.

You turned your head to see him and your hands rested on top of his. "I'm okay," you reassured him with a smile.

The proximity had startled you for a second, but you enjoyed this. His warmth, the scent of his clothes and skin.

His sweet brown eyes searched your face. "You look beautiful," he mumbled.

Not knowing what to reply, you lifted a hand to cup his cheek and reached for his lips. The kiss was tender, so slow that you felt him sigh on your lips, a shiver went down your spine.

It was all an act. A mantra you repeated to yourself since the moment you first kissed. You'd made a pact with Seokmin to remain friends. Yet even when his touch seemed like wildfire, you clung to the fragile threads of that promise, as you felt yourself melting at the touch of his lips.

"Ugh, come on! Get a move on, you lovebirds," an annoyed voice protested behind you.

It was Soonyoung. When you turned around you saw him beaming at you, he lifted a hand in the air and waved frantically at you. You smiled and waved back in the same manner.

"Come on, we're next," Seokmin stopped hugging you and pulled your hand in his again.

The table you were taken to was located in a secluded room within the fancy restaurant. You knew that Minghao had sold a few paintings to this restaurant the moment you were shown inside.

The place was dimly lit in soft orange hues and the tables were adorned with a trailed of roses and candles. In the room there was a wall fountain in the room, the water running continuously made a soft background noise paired with the live jazz show.

You strolled to the side of the room where Minghao was greeting his guests with a shy smile on his face. When he saw you he pulled you into a hug.

"Birthday boy," you chanted into the hug.

"I'm glad you're here," he said at the same time he patted you in your head.

"I brought you something," you said and unfasten your tiny purse.

You heard him giggle shyly. "You shouldn't have," he muttered but at the same time he was bouncing on his heels in anticipation.

His giggles became more bubbly when you pulled a black box the size of the palm of your hand and handed it to him. His eyes beamed at you and back to the box.

"What's this?" his lithe careful fingers took it from your hand and he looked up to find your eyes. "Can I open it now?"

"Course," you shrugged with an excited smile. "It's your birthday."

"Hehe," he chuckled in a tiny voice and opened the box to find a super tiny tea set.

You watched Minghao's mouth part a little and slowly turn into a child-like smile. His fingertips brushed over the tiny blue and white cups and teapot.

"I love it," he giggled again, "thank you."

Then he tucked you into a hug again and you returned the hug.

"I loved it so much that it makes me want to forgive you for fucking in my dressing room," he mentioned with a laugh.

Your cheeks flushed and he was patting your head and shuffling your hair teasingly.

"Y-you know? How?" your voice was high now.

He look straight in your eyes with a devilish smile. "Nothing gets passed me."

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry," you groaned covering your face with your hands. But your friend was laughing cheekily.

Minghao had carefully assigned seats for everyone to get to know each other. You were assigned a seat next to Soonyoung; which didn't make sense to you until Jeonghan took the seat to your left. You didn't know each other well, besides from casual meetings for work.

Jeonghan was a sweet guy. He was mostly quiet but soft spoken at first, but he was eager to get to know you and he told you just that.

"Ah, it's so good to finally get to know you," he said when he had drank more and started to loosen up a bit. "You know how hard it is to get to talk to you?"

"What do you mean?" you laughed, feeling that Jeonghan was doing a bit.

"You're the stellar this season and I don't even know you," he chuckled as he spoke. "That bothers me. I want to meet everyone in the company."

"Why is that?" you frowned. It was weird that a director wanted to get to know everyone. Everyone you had worked with before Jeonghan could do with a first name basis with the cast and crew. Some not even that.

"I like to think of the company like a big family," he shrugged as he sat back. "I know that it might not be practical but who knows really. So far it's working for me."

"Do you act too or you're just in the management?" you asked, genuinely curious.

"Oh, no. Not at all," he chuckled again. "I'm just interested in management and production. The acting part, props, staff, lighting and such is totally yours. I just revise projects, budget, plan and put the money."

"That sounds... like a lot of work," you looked up at him.

His short black hair covered half of his forehead. He looked a little bit tipsy, his heavy lidded eyes were turning lazier as you spoke, but he raised a soft smile.

"I enjoy it," he nodded with a grin. "And I get to make great friends, so best job ever."

Jeonghan excused himself and left the seat momentarily, thus leaving you without your new partner for the dinner.

You looked at the people sitting at the table. There were at least eighteen people sitting there. Most you knew and a few you didn't at all. Seokmin was sitting just across you, next to two actresses you knew.

He was talking to the girl to his right, while the other was laughing with Seungkwan. While Seokmin listened to the girl, he would casually nod and reply to her politely. Then you remembered that he tended to be shy on social reunions like these and that made you smile.

"Hey, why haven't you replied to my messages?" Soonyoung elbowed you.

You turned to look at him pout. "Sorry, Hoshi. Been busy," you patted his blond head.

"I hate it when you leave me on read," he continued to pout.

"I don't remember what you texted," you said, pursing your lips while you tried to remember.

"I asked you if you were in the final auditions yet," he groaned.

"Ah, yes that's right," you nodded. "And yes. You?"

He scratched his blond head. "Uhh, me too. But I'm not too confident," he shrugged.

Your brow furrowed. "Why?"

He eyed across the table before leaning towards you. "What if we both get the role? I'd have to kiss you," he hissed with a strained look on his face.

"Really?" you asked in disbelief. "That's why you don't want the role? I feel offended," you laughed.

He nodded his head shortly. "I don't wanna kiss my best friend's girl. Nuh-uh. That's fucked up."

Your smile faded a bit. "Right. That might be awkward."

Soonyoung tilted his head to the side, still speaking in a hush tone. "Can you imagine that? What will I say at your wedding feast?"

That made you almost choke on your drink.

"Whoa, hold on tiger," you tried to laugh. "There's no wedding."

"Not yet," his eyes widened a bit and he pushed his lower lip out.

As if planned, you both glanced across the table. Seokmin was resting his head on his hand, elbow on the table listening to the girl next to him with a polite smile.

"I think you've had too much to drink, my friend," you chuckled and patted his reddened cheek softly.

"I'm not drunk," he shook his head and then rolled his eyes. "Well, just a bit tipsy but I'm for real when I tell you that I've always rooted for you guys."

"What do you mean?" you asked carefully.

"You're my best friends," he shrugged again. "And I've always been aware of how Dk looks at you and I'm not dumb. I know how love looks like."

"Love." you stuttered.

When Soonyoung sent a weird look, then you knew you had to compose yourself and remain on your act.

"Well, you both were always in your own little world to notice," he explained and leaned back on his chair. "But I'm happy that you're together now."

Trying to keep your cool as best as you possibly could, you smiled at him. And it was enough for Soonyoung because he was already speaking to the other person next to him.

Bewildered, your eyes fell on Seokmin. As if he knew you were about to look his way, his eyes met yours. His smile was gentle and blinked slowly your way and you managed a small smile.

When the dinner was over, someone had already organized an after party. Minghao wasn't at all prepared for an after party but didn't complained.

As you walked out of the restaurant, the air of the cold night had grown cruller. You hissed at it and your hands covered your face.

"Here," Seokmin mumbled and slipped his warm denim jacket on your shoulders.

"Thanks," you beamed at him, sinking your arms inside the warm sleeves. His scent coming from his jacket flooded your senses.

"No problem," his hand took your chin briefly, a warm smile on his face.

You resumed walking at his side, following your friends towards the after party. Then a hand slipped between yours almost as if it were second nature. You intertwined your fingers with his, enjoying the warm sensation that flooded inside you.

"D'you want to go to the after party?" Seokmin asked. "Apparently everyone is going."

"Uh... sure. Why not," you shrugged. "Do you?"

"Is there something wrong?" he asked suddenly, reading your face.

"No," you blurted a bit too quickly. "Everything's fine. Why?"

He pointed a finger to your face. "Your mouth is doing that thing it does when something is bothering you."

You huffed. "And what is that?"

Seokmin pursed his lips and did an impression of you chewing the inside of your mouth. "You do it every time something's wrong."

"Really?"

"I've noticed," he put in simply. "We've known each other for years, it's hard to not pick up on some stuff."

"Huh."

"Are you guys coming?" Soonyoung asked while passing you and Seokmin on the sidewalk.

"We'll meet you there," Seokmin nodded with a nod of his head.

"Don't bail on me, you two. I need my drinking partner!" he scolded in a slurred tone, his drunken face so flushed it made him look cute.

You were the drinking partner in question. It was a thing you had while in uni. Whenever they dragged you to a party and you played any drinking game, somehow you ended up worse than them. So you earned the said designated title.

"We don't have to go if you don't want to," Seokmin suggested, still thinking that you were upset by something.

"I want to go," you reassured him. "I just don't think I can drink too much tonight."

"Then don't. I'll help you win, or not drink. Whatever comes to it," he pressed his lips in a smile.

Then he gently clasped your hand with his and started walking together to catch up to Soonyoung.

"Okiedokie," you mumbled, knowing it would make him smile.

"Such a dork," he sighed.

The after party was in a gallery art that was owned by one of Minghao's friends. It was down a street in between two restaurants that had already closed.

The gallery was spacious, pale grey concrete floors and walls that made it feel like a liminal space. The walls were covered by large murals and paintings and in the back there was a large space where someone was drawing some foldable chairs from a small closet.

Soon, more and more people started to show up, you even saw some faces that weren't at the dinner. Someone had brought sound equipment, and the art gallery turned into an artful improvised nightclub.

Seungkwan crossed the space, walking among the crowd towards you and pointed a finger to you. "There you are! I want to introduce you to a friend, come."

He promptly took the hand and the last thing you saw before breaking away from your fake boyfriend was his warm smile and him disappearing into the crowd with Jeonghan and Soonyoung.

You let your best friend drag you through the mass of unknown faces. He introduced you to a friend called Jun. The reason Seungkwan wanted you to meet his friend was because Jun was a tv actor and you kind of always been interested in acting for tv projects, so a conversation with the shy actor ensued.

Jun was one of the most beautiful individual's you've ever met. His red wine coloured hair made a shocking contrast with his sweet kind smile. He was sitting on top of a big wooden crate that quite possibly had paintings inside. But he seemed to not pay too much attention to it, he even invited you to sit beside him.

However, no matter how interested you were in the conversation, your eyes darted back were you last saw Seokmin, searching for him in the sea of faces.

You exchanged contacts with Jun, promising to keep in contact with him if you ever want to meet up and even meet his agent. It was an interesting opportunity, too promising to pass up.

The bellowing, drunken voice of Soonyoung made you look into the crowd, and beside your drunk friend you found Seokmin, his hands on his knees, laughing silly at something drunk Soonyoung was saying.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight of Seokmin laughing so hard he had to crouch down, hands on his knees, trying to compose himself.

"That's your boyfriend, isn't it?" Jun asked, since everyone was looking at his direction.

"Yeah," you muttered simply. It made an effect on your body whenever you called him your boyfriend. Even if it wasn't exactly that.

"Go to him," he pointed with his nose towards Seokmin. "I know you don't want to be here."

Your brows furrowed. "I'm sorry," you saw him smile as you left Seungkwan's friends. "I'll stay in touch, though."

Jun raised a hand, waving you goodbye as you made your way to where Seokmin was with Jeonghan and Soonyoung. They were playing some silly game in which they had to fake scream in pain, but Soonyoung was so drunk that couldn't make sense of his own words.

"Alright, big boy," Jeonghan said, pulling a chair in front of Soonyoung. "Enough alcohol for you."

Soonyoung was already red in the face, but if you could give him anything, he was an obedient drunk.

"Hey, that's my drinking partner," Soonyoung mumbled, pointing a weak finger at you as his head landed on the table.

"What did you do to him?" you asked.

"He lost the game three times in a row," Seokmin explained with a shrug.

"I'm taking him home," Jeonghan patted the drunken head resting on the table once and went outside to get his car.

"Thanks," you crouched to level your eyes with your friend. He smiled, making the cheek that was pressed to the table bulge.

"'m fine," he mumbled. And closed his eyes, within seconds he had already fallen asleep.

Seokmin was behind you when you stood up, a hand sneaking on your lower back. "Well if it's any consolation, you won't have to drink tonight."

"Yeah, lucky me," you smiled, turning to him so that your body was facing his.

"Who did Seungkwan want you to meet?" he asked.

"A tv actor. Told me to meet up with his agent to talk auditions," you told him.

"Oh?" he raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like an interesting opportunity. Who is he?"

You subtly gestured toward Jun, who remained perched like a model on a large wooden crate, even the lights on him appeared to be lighting him up like a piece of art in the gallery.

"We exchanged numbers to meet someday," you mentioned casually.

"You did?" he shifted his gaze from the charming actor to study your face.

Your eyes narrowed. "Yeah. What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Just curious."

A smile played on your lips. "Are you…"

His brow furrowed slightly. "What?"

"Jealous?"

He let out a chuckle, attempting to mask his surprise. "Jealous? Why would I be?"

You tilted your head, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you've been showing a possessive streak lately?"

His expression softened, and the hand on your lower back pressed on you a little. "What if I did feel a little jealous?"

A warmth rushed through your body, you felt it pulse in your chest.

You leaned into his touch, savouring the warmth of his hand on your back. "Well, then I might have to make it up to you somehow," you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

He smiled, a mixture of playfulness and curiosity. "Oh, yeah? And how will that be?"

"Why don't you find out?" you replied coyly, and you stood on your tiptoes, letting the hand on your back go a little lower on the small of your back.

Curious fingers gingerly and discreetly explored the small of your back and ass. Seokmin understood immediately, his alarmed eyes stopping on yours. "You're not wearing underwear." he muttered.

A nervous laugh bubbled up in your chest as you nodded with your head.

His free hand took you by your jaw, pulling you into a rushed kiss. "You'll be the death of me," he groaned.

He dragged you through the dense crowd and led you out the dimly lit art gallery. You walked through a small door and found yourself in a deserted, dark alley. A tall ceramic pot with a dried plant was the only feature in the secluded area.

Seokmin was already pinning you against a wall, leaning his head down to find your lips. You had already decided to ignore all your rational thinking and melted into his lips.

"We're gonna have to be quick," he muttered, his lips brushing yours before sinking down on them again.

"I don't trust your definition of quick," you whispered, your hands slipping behind his neck to drag him into another wet kiss.

"For real this time," he smirked.

"I've never been fucked against a wall," you blurted out when your hand reached for the belt in his pants.

"Just hold onto me. I'll do the work," he mumbled and his breath hitched when he felt your fingers on his skin when you buried your hand beneath his underwear, grabbing his already hardened cock. "Your hands are cold."

"Sorry," you whispered, your hand feeling the soft skin of his length, the tip of his cock was already wet in precum when you rubbed your thumb across it, smearing the wetness around his cockhead.

"Lean against the wall. I'm going to lift you up," he muttered and you did what he said.

Seokmin reached down at your legs under the skirt of your dress and he swiftly lifted your body up, grabbing your ass in his hands. You pulled your skirt to your hips, giving him space to properly slot himself between your thighs.

Your hand snuck between his body and yours, finding his cock again with your fingers and led it to your core. Watching his face intently, you played a little with his cockhead, dragging it across your wet folds. A groan reverberated through his gritted teeth.

"You're soaking wet, baby," he said, dropping his forehead on yours when he felt you. "Does making me jealous turn you on?"

"You turn me on," you mumbled. "I missed you, Seokmin. It's been days since we last fucked."

The squelching sound coming from you playing with his cock against your entrance only made you more aroused. You bit your lip down before aligning his cockhead to your entrance, and looked at Seokmin's eyes.

"Are you sure you can take me like this?" he whispered.

You nodded, feeling so eager that you couldn't breathe. "I'm sure."

But soon you understand what the really meant. He started to ease himself inside you with shallow thrusts, stretching your tight core open so slowly, but so deliciously your eyes screw shut, making you see stars.

Normally when you had sex with him, he would play with your core with his fingers before fucking you. But now he went in without stretching you beforehand, and it had been days since you last had him inside you.

Your breath hitched at the sharp pain, grabbing him by the shoulders of his shirt and your fingers twisted to resist the pain as he was still sinking his length inside you. It was a bit painful, but you found out that your body liked it. The mere thought of him stretching your core, having him raw aroused you even more.

"You told me you could take me," he muttered in a hushed tone. "D'you want to stop?"

"No," you mumbled quickly and reached for his lips. "Keep going, please."

Your hands were clinging at his shoulders, fingers twitching at the exquisite feeling of having him inside you. His hips came to a stop, and you could feel that he had sheathed himself completely inside you.

This could drive you crazy. Him being so closely connected to your body that you could feel the warmth of him, you could feel his cock throbbing inside you as he moved in a slow pace, still adjusting to your body.

"Are you okay, baby?" he mumbled.

You muffled a whimper biting down your lip at the sound of his voice calling you that.

"I'm okay," you replied, feeling out of breath but in plain ecstasy.

His hips started moving, not caring about being slow or patient and you silently thanked him for it. He was thrusting in you so fast that there was barely any chance to capture his lips in yours so you resorted to see his face as he fucked you into the wall.

Your hands moved daintily from the shoulders of his shirt to his neck. It was already covered in a light layer of sweat, but his hips didn't faltered, thrusting inside you so deep that you felt like you were impaling yourself in his cock.

You stiffened a moan when he found a rhythm that hit your core so deliciously you felt like you had to cum soon.

"Quiet, baby," he whispered when he heard you. He leaned down and pressed a quick tender kiss on your lips, still rutting his hips against yours.

Seokmin's eyes were focused on your face, you could tell he was attentive to the faces you made whenever he'd hit the golden spot inside you. Then, one of your hands slid between your bodies, your eyebrows furrowed with tension as you managed to rub your clit, feeling so close to the release your body was building up, he smiled.

"Aw baby, are you going to cum?" he whispered.

The hand that was still clinging to him clenched at the hem of his shirt and felt your body tense up and you could savour your release. You nodded, "'m so close, babe," you whimpered.

Seokmin groaned as your walls clamped erratically around his cock, a warm wet sensation slipped where your bodies connected. You knew you were creaming on his cock and the thought of it sent you over the edge.

You came, hard enough to shake on his arms and whimper quietly his name. It took everything you had to not scream, tears brimming up in the corners of your eyes as your body went limp under the waves of bliss consuming you.

"Fuck, baby," he muttered on your lips, and you knew he was close too.

As his hips were faltering, you wrapped your legs around his hips. "No, don't pull out," you muttered wildly. A groan was muffled by your mouth as he came inside you, pumping warm ropes of cum deep inside you.

His hips came to a stop, his cock still buried deep inside your core. Now that he had stilled, you reached to kiss his lips fervently, still feeling under the craze of your orgasm.

Seokmin pulled his head back, breaking the kiss with a gasp from you.

"Babe?" he repeated, his brow deeply furrowed.

Your heart stilled.

"You don't like it?" you asked innocently. "I won't use it again."

He didn't really give an answer. He just blinked slowly, his gaze drawing away from your face and into the night sky. "You didn't let me pull out."

"I missed you," you replied with a small voice.

He lowered his eyes to find yours. "You missed me that much?" he muttered, his lips rose in a downturned smile. "Did you miss my cock so much that you needed me to fuck you in a dark alley?"

"I did," you breathed, feeling your blood rush to your cheeks. "It's all I could think of; you inside me, cumming in me."

He was breathing softly against your lips, his forehead sweaty as he gently rested it against yours. "Don't," he whispered. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

He shook his head slightly, his forehead still on yours. "Saying you missed me. Making me feel jealous. Calling me babe. Fucks with my head."

"Sorry," you heard yourself say. "I..."

You wanted to tell him that you did miss him. Not just the sex. But you couldn't quite bring yourself to say it.

You waited for a long second, his breathing was not slowing down and his forearms were starting to shake a little. He put you back on the floor, not quite letting you go until you could stand on your own.

You leaned against the wall as you watched him fix his pants quietly, his belt hanging lose as he looked at you.

"Do you have your panties?" he asked.

You nodded. "Yeah," your fingers dug at your tiny purse and you pulled a clean black thong.

He took it from your hand and knelt down before you, patting on your ankle for you to lift it up the ground and then the next. Then he slid your underwear up your legs, fixing the edges so they wouldn't bump on your dress.

"Thanks," you whispered.

"I'm going to take you home now, okay?" he muttered, he was serious now. Something you rarely saw on him.

"Kay," you whispered.

Taking your hand in his, he led you through the alley and to the street. Soon you realized that you were ten minutes away from your apartment building and Seokmin was leading you back.

He was too quiet, dangerously quiet you'd say. And you didn't know how to make him talk about what kept him this quiet. So you stayed silent too because you didn't know what to say.

"Are you... are you staying tonight?" you asked when you got to your apartment door and opened it for him.

He leaned his head against your doorframe, looking at you as if he didn't know what to do with you.

"I just wanted to get you home," he mumbled. "I'll be going now."

Your brow furrowed, feeling a morose pain sweep in your chest. A pain you knew too well.

"What's wrong?" you asked, in a small voice.

"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" he said softly, a sad, tired look on his face.

You felt your knees wobble a bit. "We can talk now," you suggested, already feeling what would come next.

Seokmin sighed and stepped inside your apartment, closing the door behind him.

You slowly removed his jacket and handed it to him. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Of course not," he replied with a reassuring tone. He took his jacket and put it on and you noticed the expression on his face was conflicted.

You bit the inside of your cheek, your heart beating so hard against your chest you thought it might tell on you. Seokmin approached in your living room, and now you could see him under the light of the lamps.

"I don't think I can keep up with this," he admitted.

Your heart felt heavy, as if it were being squeezed in a tight fist.

"Why? What changed?" you murmured.

"I broke our promise," he sighed heavily.

A burning sense of fear crippled you. Everything was happening too fast for you to cope or understand. But you knew that you had to face it.

"The more we fuck around the more I realise that it's not just the sex what I want anymore," Seokmin continued. "I know I promised this wouldn't happen, but it did. And I'm not sure how much longer I can take this fake dating, because I want more... I want to be with you."

A heavy silence hung in the air, and you struggled to find the right words to respond. After a moment, you managed to say, "I didn't think this would happen so soon."

He nodded, his eyes darkened with a mix of regret and longing. "I understand if you need space. I just had to be honest with you."

You inhaled deeply, attempting to calm your aching heart. "I'm not ready. Not yet."

You could see the internal struggle in his eyes, the turmoil of emotions he'd been dealing with. And he could probably see the same in your eyes.

"I know," he finally said, his voice tense with defeat.

Of course he knew. He was your best friend. He was there when you were broken after finding out your ex had cheated on you. He understood everything you had gone through to move on. He would know if you're ready to love again.

"But we can work it out," you murmured, your eyes suddenly filling with tears. "I want us to."

His gaze softened, and he reached out to wipe away a tear that had escaped down your cheek. "I don't want to rush you. I'll be patient."

Your voice trembled as you replied, "I just need time."

He pulled you into a tight hug, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I'll give you all the time you need," he promised, his voice reassuring. "I'm not going anywhere."

As you both stood there, wrapped in the weight of the moment, the air felt heavy with unspoken words and a understanding. You hugged him close to your body, shaking with sobs, allowing yourself to bury your face in the warmth of his chest.

"I need to go now," he muttered with a heavy tone.

Your arms tensed around him. You heard him release a sigh, and knew he was smiling.

"Have a bath and go to bed," he instructed. "You'll feel better."

You didn't want him to leave. But when you finally forced yourself to let him go, he kissed your forehead sweetly before patting your head as he always did.

"I'll stay close, noodle. Don't worry," he muttered with a soft smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Then he turned away and left quietly.

♡︎ a/n: i love dk sm! u-u i got a bit carried away with the angst i just love it hehe. if you liked reading this feel free to show it some love leaving a like, reblogging, commenting. k, bye! ( · ❛ ֊ ❛)

click here for part 4!!

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Snow Day Part 2

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: none for this part either :)

Pairings: logince

Word Count: 5462

Unknown number: Roman, this is Logan. Are you free the evening of the 15th?

Roman blinks at his phone.

Me: How did you get my number?

Logan: I asked Patton. You do remember that we work together, yes?

Me: Yeah i remember but why did you want my number

Logan: To ask if you're free on the 15th, for starters.

Me: i think so, why?

Logan: The firm is throwing a holiday party and I've been instructed to bring someone who, quote: 'Won't cause a disruption but will add to the seasonal atmosphere.'

Me: is this supposed to be a compliment? also what kind of invitation says that?

Logan: I've certainly never met anyone as determined to preserve the holiday spirit as you. And no, that was a special instruction from my boss.

Me: still don't know if that's a compliment

Logan: Take it as you like. The dress code is black tie, so no terrible sweaters for you.

Me: i can't do that

Logan: Surely the holiday will survive if you're not in a hideous sweater for one evening

Me: no i don't have anything to wear to a black tie thing

His phone is silent for a long time and Roman's…fine about that. He was gonna enjoy that evening off, actually. Watch some of his favorite Christmas movies, listen to his favorite album, maybe actually get around to baking himself that thing he wanted to try ages ago…

Then his phone buzzes again. He picks it up and blinks to see an address.

Logan: Meet me here at 9 tomorrow.

Me: why?

Logan: To find you something appropriate to wear, of course.

Me: Logan, you don't need to do that.

Logan: I'm aware. 9 on the dot, don't be late.

Well.

Okay.

He's going shopping with Logan tomorrow, apparently. He also definitely needs to ask Patton why the hell he gave Logan his number.

At 8:55 the next morning, he's standing outside one of those department stores that just feels like it's the setting of some cliché rich person montage. He'd picked out a loose-fitting tee and a pair of decent sweatpants because, you know, shopping typically involves trying things on, but now he's wondering if he should've put on his nice slacks and a button down because holy shit does he feel underdressed right now.

"Ah, good. You are on time."

And sure enough, here comes Logan in his goddamned suit. Does the man own casual clothes? Logan gives him another look up and down and no, Roman doesn't imagine the way his nose turns up ever so slightly before fixing him with a stern expression.

"Am I right in thinking you don't have much experience buying formal wear?"

"Not for a black tie event, no."

"Lovely," he says, tone indicating this is anything but, "I expect you to pay attention."

"Logan," he says quickly before Logan can actually make it to the door, "I can't—I can't afford anything here."

"Don't worry, I'll pay."

"You'll—what?"

"I said I'll pay for it, Roman, now come on—"

"Why would you do that?"

"Aside from the fact that you've just said you can't afford it?"

"You don't—" Roman pinches the bridge of his nose— "look, I don't know what game this is or what point you're trying to prove, but it's not—I don't need your charity, okay?"

"It's not charity, Roman. Every man should have at least three well-fitting suits."

"Three? It's one night, Logan, I'm not—I can't do this."

Logan's looking at him strangely, like he's the one being weird about this—which he's not, he's being very reasonably suspicious and Logan shouldn't be looking at him like that—before he turns on his heel and heads down the block. After a moment of realizing that Roman's not walking with him, he reaches back and tucks his hand into the crook of Roman's arm the way he did at the party, which Roman still isn't thinking about, thank you very much, leading him around the corner to a coffee shop that also looks too expensive. He holds his tongue this time, resigning himself to whatever it is Logan's decided they're doing, taking the cup pushed into his hand and following Logan back outside.

Logan leads them to a bench in a more secluded area of the street, sitting down and nodding for Roman to sit next to him. "What's making you uncomfortable?"

Roman scoffs, but then Logan furrows his brow and…shit, he's actually being sincere. He swallows. "Aside from the fact that everyone in there looks like they're wearing my rent?"

"They're only clothes, Roman."

He doesn't register the surprisingly gentle tone Logan's using. "They're not just clothes, they're—they're—I don't belong in that world, Logan. I'm not gonna try to force myself into it."

"What world?"

"The world where I can spent rent on a suit and have that be fine. The world where people are that rich and that—that—" he suddenly remembers that Logan is one of said rich people, or at least is acting like it right now— "I just can't do it."

Logan's quiet for a moment, still just looking at him. Roman looks away, sipping at his coffee. Shit, it's good coffee too. Logan's probably thinking about how much of a waste of time this was, and he wasted his time the other day with buying the gifts too…and now with the whole party thing, maybe it's better to just leave.

That's not very seasonally gracious of you.

The memory of Logan's voice in his head shocks him into realizing how much of a dick he's being. Logan's doing this—presumably—out of the goodness of his heart, or at the very least he's not expecting Roman to pay him back or anything. And here Roman is, practically throwing a tantrum about it.

"Sorry," he says quietly, bowing his head, "I'm being an asshole, aren't I?"

"Being uncomfortable doesn't make you an asshole, Roman."

"Yeah, but…"

"No buts. I'd rather you tell me than suffer through it." The sincerity in his tone makes him look up again to see Logan still watching him. "What is it about it that's making it worse? Is it the money? I really don't mind paying for you. At the risk of sounding, well, like that, it's not that big of a deal to me."

He's gonna put that aside for now, yeah. "I just—I know how those people look at me."

"And how is that?"

He scuffs his toe through some of the salt congealing under the bench. "Like I'm not supposed to be there. Like I have the gall to be in the same room as them, or like I don't exist. I don't like it."

There's a pause. Then: "Do you think that's how I look at you?"

His head jerks over. Logan's hands are still around the coffee cup, but there's a bit of tension in them now. He adjusts his glasses even though there's really no need for it. He swallows.

"I don't…I really don't know how you look at me, Logan," he admits, "I thought that's what you were doing at first, but it's…I don't know, okay? Is that what you want to hear?"

"I'm not your enemy, Roman," he says with an unmistakable hurt that makes Roman want to throw up, "nor am I interrogating you."

"I know, I'm sorry. I…I didn't mean it like that."

Logan just looks at him for a few more seconds. He fidgets under it and looks away.

"Why're you doing this," he asks quietly, "surely there's an easier way to get around your boss's instructions?"

Another long pause. A car drives by and nearly splashes them with gray sludge. A dog barks at a pigeon taking flight.

"You're the first person who's successfully gotten me to buy actual presents for my family in almost ten years," Logan says suddenly, "and you managed it on the second time we'd ever met."

Hold on, Roman was what? He did what, now?

"And I thought about how my family would react to those presents and I found myself actually getting excited about it," he continues, like he isn't blowing Roman's mind right now, "so…perhaps there's something to this whole gift-giving, caring thing people like to peddle this time of year."

"They do say Christmas is the joy of giving."

"Quite, but I have no interest in making you out to be a charity case."

"You don't?"

Logan shakes his head. "No. If anything, this is my reward for myself. A selfish act to balance out the selfless one."

Roman frowns. "You…buying me a suit is you being selfish?"

A familiarly smug smirk curls up Logan's face and Roman will deny the way he swallows when he sees it until the day he dies. "No, me inviting the one person I'm genuinely fascinated by to an otherwise boring event of schmoozing and networking is the selfish act. The suit, well…aside from the fact that it is a crime that you've never been properly fitted for a suit before—"

"Hey! Again, not all of us are going to galas all the time!"

"—you managed to captivate me in a cheap sweater and worn jeans," Logan continues as if he hadn't spoken, voice suddenly a lot, lot lower, "and I can hardly pass up the opportunity to see you in something better."

Roman does not squeak. He does not turn bright pink, he does not shuffle like a schoolboy, he does not go all wide-eyed like some little fawn caught in the jaws of the Big Bad Wolf. He doesn't do any of those things because there's no way Logan just said that to him like it was nothing in the middle of the day while they're in public.

Logan's smirk just grows.

"You what?"

"Come, now, there's no need to be shy. You certainly have a healthy appreciation for my suits—" goddamnit— "can you truly begrudge me for having the same interest?"

"I—that's not—I didn't—shut up!"

He just chuckles, like an asshole, as Roman hides his splutter behind another sip of coffee. Thank God he's wearing a hat so Logan can't see how red his ears are right now.

"I don't need three suits," he manages with a remarkably steady voice, "not if the party's just one night."

"You never know, you might have the chance to attend another in the future."

Nope. Not thinking about that. Absolutely not, no, thank you. "I think sticking with just the one is fine for me right now."

"Very well." Logan stands with a swish of his coat. "One suit it is."

It takes until Logan's halfway down the block that Roman realizes he's been tricked into agreeing to let Logan pay for a suit, and the bastard doesn't even look sorry about it when Roman hollers after him.

Dick.

Of course, as soon as they get inside, part of him wants to leave immediately, but then Logan's hand is curling around his arm and he swallows, letting himself be guided across the sales floor to a section with a lot of black and navy fabric. He stares at the racks with what must be some form of abject terror because Logan's chuckling at him and leaning close.

"Don't worry, I'm not about to leave you on your own."

"You'd better not," he shoots back, but his voice comes out all high and thready.

Logan waves over a sales associate who's dressed better than Roman's ever been in his entire life and explains that Roman needs a suit. At least that's what he assumes just happened. In reality, there's a dull buzz in his head right now that's making it hard to focus on anything other than staying upright, not having a panic attack, and on the warmth of Logan's hand holding onto his arm through his coat. He does notice the associate eyeing his clothes a little disdainfully and quickly forces out: "Easier to change."

"Ah, how sensible. If only all of our clients were as considerate. Now, what sort of styles do you like?"

"I have absolutely no idea and I'm mostly scared to touch anything."

Both of them laugh and somehow manage to do it without sounding mean. "Do not worry, nothing in here bites, I assure you."

Roman can't help the way his gaze darts to Logan. Logan, because he is apparently determined to kill Roman today, winks at him.

"You're not helping," he hisses as the associate turns to pull something from a nearby rack.

"I don't recall promising to help, only that I wouldn't leave you alone."

"You're buying me another hot chocolate after this."

He does, and it's way too expensive and it tastes way too good and he wants to be mad about it and the garment bag he has to haul home, but then Logan's threatening to get him a cab as well and he high-tails it out of there before he makes good on it.

When he gets home, he just sort of…stands there for a moment, looking at the bag. In a daze, he reaches up and traces the emblem of the store embroidered into the black fabric. This is his suit. He actually owns it, it's made for him, it's something that he just has now. And yeah, maybe Logan was right: more than a small part of him is dancing at the idea of such a thing.

Before he can tell it to stop, that part of him whirls him through a set of doors and he's picturing himself in a grand ballroom with crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, music overflowing into the gardens, the balconies, as it should for any spectacular party. With this suit, he belongs there, just as much as anyone else, amidst the swirling skirts and glittering tidings, where he could stand on his own and be welcome, celebrated, even, as much as anyone else. Where a hand might extend to him and mean it, where he could look up at Logan's face and smile, and not have to worry that a kiss would be refused—

The garment bag hits the floor with a crumpled thud.

Roman blinks rapidly, giving himself a good shake. What the hell was that? How did Logan manage to sneak in there? What's that got to do with—

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, no.

No, no, no—no, shit, he is not doing this again. He knows better now, he's not that young or naive or stupid anymore, he is not getting caught up in some ridiculous thing that will only end with his heart in pieces on the floor and a wobbling smile on his face. He is not going to start doing that.

With a muffled groan, he snags the bag off the floor and stomps to the closet, hanging it up and shoving the door closed again. This is stupid. This is the third time he's met Logan, there's no reason for him to be doing this. Even if by some Christmas miracle Logan doesn't find out about this—because Roman wears his heart on his sleeve and Logan keeps doing that thing where he sees him—his traitor of a heart flutters again and he shoves a pin through its wings—he's still going to have to look at him at this stupid party and—and—

And his mind flashes back to that little bit of hurt he'd heard in Logan's voice when he asked if Roman thought he looked at him the way all those fucking rich people do. He swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. Would Logan look at him the same way now, knowing he was assuming the worst of him?

No, no, that's not right. Accurately predicting the rejection of his sudden and really very stupid feelings was not assuming the worst of him. If anything, Logan might complement him on his very mature and reasonable handling of unrequited emotions. Yeah, that was it. He just has to be an adult about this, the way everyone else has said the same thing his entire life. It's a good thing he realized these feelings now, actually, and not at the party where there will be other people and he'll be in that suit and Logan will be there too, because he's invited Roman of all people, going so far as to make sure he has something to wear…

He snaps himself out of it, almost glaring at the closet door. No. Not doing that. He's just going to go to this party as Logan's friend, spend the time being there the way a friend would, and not think about what would happen if Logan had asked him there as more than a friend.

He can do this.

***

4.

He can't do this.

He's been standing outside the lobby of this big slab of glass and steel in the middle of downtown for about ten minutes now and he has no idea of how to move forward. He's on the list, he knows, because Logan sent him a confirmation email yesterday, so he doesn't have to wait here for someone else to show up and let him in, he definitely doesn't have to wait for Logan to show up so they can go inside, but here he is. Loitering. He's pretty sure it's only because of the suit that the front desk person hasn't called the cops or whatever.

"You've truly a wonderful sense of timing."

He whirls around to see Logan getting out of a sleek black town car. His mouth goes dry a little at the sight and he'll deny it forever. Take the fifth, or whichever amendment is the one that means you don't have to say shit. Logan's smirking at him by the time they're standing next to each other, though, so he's pretty sure he has some idea of what's running through his head.

"Hey," he croaks, clearing his throat, "thought about going in, but then I realized I'd have no idea of where I'm going."

"They could've told you."

Don't bring your logic here while I'm having a crisis. "Yeah, well, isn't it bad form to show up separately from the person who invited you?"

Logan gives him that look like he's being nice to him by letting it go—and hey, he is a lawyer, maybe that counts as being nice—and takes his elbow. "Come on, then. We're getting dangerously close to being disastrously late instead of fashionably late."

They walk through the door and Logan waves a card at the person behind the desk—ID badge, Roman's brain supplies helpfully. The elevator is just a normal elevator, thank God, but then it opens onto a floor of way too many people in expensive clothing and more of that pretentious not-Christmas music and it's all he can do not to immediately slam the 'down' button again.

"Relax," Logan says quietly, "it's just a party."

"Easy for you to say, you work here."

"Actually, that makes it worse for me: I have to see these people again after tonight."

A somewhat hysterical giggle bubbles up in Roman's throat but he steps out of the elevator all the same. There's a large booth off to one side where racks have been set up for people's coats, two smartly-dressed people manning a small desk. Logan walks up and passes over his coat without hesitating, which means Roman has to hustle a little bit to not get left behind in the crowd.

"So, what're we supposed to do?"

"Mingle," Logan sighs, like he's just been asked to hold up the heavens, "I am responsible for following up with a few of our more…anxious clients, but you just have to walk around and look pretty."

Roman snags an offered glass of champagne and downs about half of it in one go to avoid thinking about that too much. Logan just chuckles and starts leading his way through the masses, Roman trudging along behind him.

The first set of people they come across must be other people Logan works with on a regular basis; they react like Logan's the cool kid coming to join them at the lunch table when he strolls closer, one of them giving him a slap on the shoulder and the others raising their glasses in toast. A change comes over him, growing taller and sleeker as Roman watches before he realizes hey, this is probably one of those things Logan wants him to talk at. Sure enough, as he approaches, one of them spots him over Logan's shoulder.

"Is this the lucky man with you tonight?"

"Yes," Logan says, turning and extending a hand to gather Roman in close, "this is Roman. Roman, these are some of the insufferable colleagues I mentioned before."

"Hello, nice to meet you."

"Look, Logan, someone with manners," a woman says, dark eyes flashing over the rim of her glass, "you could learn something from him."

"You must be the one that threatened to stab him if he didn't get the right presents," he says, without thinking, only for the others to burst out laughing. The woman just grins.

"That would be me, yes." She holds out her hand. "Ava Nath. Pleasure to suffer through knowing Logan along with you."

"Roman."

"Claws to yourself, Ava," Logan says lowly and fuck, Logan being all weirdly possessive around his friends—are they friends? Roman's really gonna hope they're friends—is doing things to Roman.

"How'd you manage to meet this one, Roman?" asks another man, nudging Logan with his elbow. "Can't have been through work, otherwise we'd've warned you away ages ago."

Roman swallows another mouthful of champagne. "Mutual friend."

"Oh? Which friend would that be?"

"You guys realize we're not in a court room, right? You don't have to interrogate me if you don't want to."

Again, thank God they took that as a joke, laughing again even as Logan's hand lands warmly on his upper back. The man waves his hand in a gesture of surrender. "Sorry. Ask anyone here, it's hard to turn off."

"No, it's fine, I…should've expected it. I'm friends with Patton, that's how we met."

"Patton…from down on the 16th floor, yes. Sweet guy. Makes sense." He gives himself a shake. "Here I am forgetting my manners too. Scott Kensington, pleased to meet you."

Roman shakes his hand. Logan's hand is still on his back, thumb slightly stroking the material of suit. He should not be paying attention to that, he should be paying attention to the conversation.

He takes another gulp.

"Well, you just got here, so you've still got your rounds to do."

Logan groans. "Don't remind me. Just tell me that Forstby isn't here yet."

"Oh, God, no, he'll probably stumble in about an hour from now."

"Small mercies. Well, it was lovely catching up with you, but I'm afraid we're needed elsewhere. Roman?"

"Yep, I'm coming."

"Pleasure meeting you," Ava calls as he's ushered away, "come back when you're done!"

"Will we be doing that?"

Logan rolls his eyes. "If we must. Come on, now, we've more hands to shake."

It turns out that meeting people in rapid succession is not a good way for him to remember names, or faces, instead he just gets more and more through this glass of champagne with a pasted-on smile and a few comments he doesn't think about that thankfully just make everyone else laugh. He's pretty sure Logan can tell, though, judging by the way his hand never leaves his back or his shoulder for longer than about ten seconds at a time. He'd like to resent him for that. He really would. He'd also like to resent him for feeding the fantasy Roman's brain has been helpfully pushing at him all night but he's ignoring that one like a champ.

They end up in a conversation with one of the firm's clients, not that he really knows what that means—okay, no, he does know what that means, he just doesn't know what he's supposed to do about it. The couple is a striking older duo, a man with ginger hair flecked with salt and pepper, as is his beard, introducing himself as Ben, and a stunning blonde woman with high cheekbones and a piercing green stare who tells him call me Sadie. They'd both spoken warmly to Logan upon seeing him, gathering him in for a hug—which he hadn't been shocked by, nope, not at all—before turning to Roman. He'd stumbled his way through an intro, belatedly offering his hand, only for them to…well, basically coo at how adorable he is. He minds a little less than he'd thought. They explain how they met through a mutual friend again and the three of them have been talking about something business related ever since. Which means Roman can just nod in the right places, laugh in the right places, and not think about anything else.

Nope.

Not at all.

"But that's enough business talk," Ben sighs, "this is supposed to be a party."

"That doesn't typically stop you," Sadie says, to which Ben huffs and she turns her smile to Roman. "Forgive us."

"Nothing to forgive, I get it."

"I suppose we have you to thank for this evening?"

"Uh, what? Sorry, I, um…how so?"

"Come now, there's no need to be coy about it. We all know Logan's a bit of a Grinch when it comes to the holidays," Ben says with a wink at Logan.

"If being practical makes me a Grinch, then yes, I suppose so."

"See what I mean?"

"We weren't sure he was even going to be here," Sadie continues, "so I presume I have you to thank for getting him in the spirit?"

Which…is not how Roman thought this worked out. Logan told him about the party, told him he needed a guest to bring, like it was a mandatory work thing that he had to go to. Not…what he's currently being told. But before he can say that, or something to that effect, Logan's rolling his eyes again. Seriously, the man puts in a full eyeball workout every hour, it looks like.

"Ava's already declared her allegiance for him after learning he helped me with gift-getting, I don't need you two doing the same."

"You, willingly buying presents that aren't run-of-the-mill?" Ben says. "You are a miracle worker, Roman."

"It wasn't that big of a deal."

"It was," Logan corrects gently, looking at him with actual affection, "and I don't believe I ever properly thanked you for it, so thank you."

"Um…you're welcome?"

Sadie laughs. "Next thing you know, you'll be throwing your own Christmas party."

Roman laughs along with her. The idea of cynical, practical Logan throwing a Christmas party will do that. He can just imagine Logan's face at the idea too—

"I've actually been considering it."

He knows his head is not the only one that snaps around to stare when Logan says that. Ben recovers first, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Not this, obviously," Logan continues, gesturing about, "but something with a few friends, certainly."

"Will wonders never cease…I never thought I'd see the day where you willingly get into the festive spirit."

"What can I say? It's that time of year."

"It certainly is," Sadie says, her gaze sliding far too neatly to Roman for a little too long. "Well, I hope that if you do deign to throw such a party, the two of us will be invited?"

"Naturally."

And then there are polite excuses being made as to why everyone has to be elsewhere and they're back to mingling again. Roman's brain is still stuck on the idea of Logan at a Christmas party. An actual Christmas party, where there's cheap alcohol and shitty music and terrible sweaters. He manages to get through a few more brief conversations before he's mumbling to Logan about needing a break and wandering off in search of the nearest window.

He manages to find one far enough away from the pounding music—and open bar—but close enough that Logan won't have to look around forever to find him. He leans against the edge, watching the snow drift between the skyscrapers. Absentmindedly, he tugs at his collar, as if it could get his mind away from the thoughts still swirling around and around his brain.

This is going fine. This is going great, even. It's just like what he normally does at parties: socialize for a little bit, find and hang on to the people he actually knows, and then find a quiet corner to just be by himself. He didn't even check to see if Patton would be here—no, no, Patton's with his partner now, he left last week. Well, that makes it only Logan that he knows here, not counting the few people whose names he's managed to remember.

That's fine too. Completely, totally fine. Absolutely nothing to worry about.

He takes another drink and finds the glass empty. Well, sallying forth to try and procure another one sounds like a bad idea, so he's just gonna have to deal with it.

"You," comes an amused voice from behind him, "are far too sober to be looking so worried."

He huffs a laugh, turning to see Logan holding out a fresh glass of…something that definitely isn't champagne. He takes it, eyes it warily, and at Logan's pointed stare, takes a sip. He doesn't cough, because he's not that bad at this, but he does make quite the face.

"You'd think I just handed you a glass of cyanide, it's just whisky, there's no need for all of that."

"Don't think it's quite to my taste." But he's also not in the habit of refusing a drink, so he tries another sip. This time he lets it sit on his tongue for a few moments before swallowing and it's…mildly better. "Thanks."

"I felt obligated to do a morale check." Logan glances over his shoulder. "The wolves haven't torn you to shreds yet, have they?"

"I thought sharks were the lawyer metaphor animal."

"Both suffice in their own ways. Both have a reputation for being particularly ruthless or determined, an association with chasing bloodshed. Keen senses, for noticing when someone's deflecting."

"Yeah, yeah, we get it," he grumbles, "I'm fine. Just…needed a minute."

"No one's looking at you funny, are they?"

He's about to give Logan a hard time for teasing him about something that he knows is a sore spot, he made his point already, but when he looks up, Logan's looking at him with a small furrow between his brows and the retort shrivels up. He shakes his head. Logan's shoulders relax.

"Good."

"Ava and Scott seemed cool. So did Ben and Sadie."

Logan hums, still watching him. He shuffles under it.

"What?"

"Is there something else bothering you? You seem upset still."

"I'm fine, really, just…not used to all of this," he finishes, somewhat lamely, "most of the parties I go to are more low-key. You know, bunch of people in a house, food, drink…that's it. Kind of like what you were describing."

"I hope you know that you'd be invited too."

"R-really?" He can't help the slight laugh of disbelief. "But we barely know each other."

"And yet, you're the only one who's managed to convince me that there might be something to all this holiday nonsense. You think I'd do something festive and not make you suffer through it with me?"

"See, you say there might be something to it, then you call it nonsense that you have to suffer through."

"Just because there's something redeeming about it doesn't mean I suddenly have to enjoy it."

"You really are a lawyer."

Logan laughs at that, a proper laugh, and that's just fucking unfair that he's a gorgeous bastard when he laughs too. He shakes his head, and Roman quickly looks back out the window. Nope. Not thinking about it. Not thinking about anything at all. No thoughts, head empty, that's him.

"You would come, though."

"Huh?"

"If I did have a party. You would come?"

"Of course I would," he says before his brain catches up to what he's saying and realizes that…yes, he actually would. He'd be happy to. "Just let me know when and where."

Logan smiles. Then it fades slightly, and Roman stands up a little more, about to ask what's wrong. His mouth opens and that, of course, is when someone comes up to talk to Logan and the moment's gone almost as quickly as it came.

"I have to go," Logan says, "don't run off this time, would you?"

"I'll be here."

Logan touches his arm again and turns, touch lingering just a bit on the edge of his bare wrist and Roman takes a huge gulp of the whisky.

Shit.

Unknown number: Roman, this is Logan. Are you free the evening of the 15th?

Roman blinks at his phone.

Me: How did you get my number?

Logan: I asked Patton. You do remember that we work together, yes?

Me: Yeah i remember but why did you want my number

Logan: To ask if you're free on the 15th, for starters.

Me: i think so, why?

Logan: The firm is throwing a holiday party and I've been instructed to bring someone who, quote: 'Won't cause a disruption but will add to the seasonal atmosphere.'

Me: is this supposed to be a compliment? also what kind of invitation says that?

Logan: I've certainly never met anyone as determined to preserve the holiday spirit as you. And no, that was a special instruction from my boss.

Me: still don't know if that's a compliment

Logan: Take it as you like. The dress code is black tie, so no terrible sweaters for you.

Me: i can't do that

Logan: Surely the holiday will survive if you're not in a hideous sweater for one evening

Me: no i don't have anything to wear to a black tie thing

His phone is silent for a long time and Roman's…fine about that. He was gonna enjoy that evening off, actually. Watch some of his favorite Christmas movies, listen to his favorite album, maybe actually get around to baking himself that thing he wanted to try ages ago…

Then his phone buzzes again. He picks it up and blinks to see an address.

Logan: Meet me here at 9 tomorrow.

Me: why?

Logan: To find you something appropriate to wear, of course.

Me: Logan, you don't need to do that.

Logan: I'm aware. 9 on the dot, don't be late.

Well.

Okay.

He's going shopping with Logan tomorrow, apparently. He also definitely needs to ask Patton why the hell he gave Logan his number.

At 8:55 the next morning, he's standing outside one of those department stores that just feels like it's the setting of some cliché rich person montage. He'd picked out a loose-fitting tee and a pair of decent sweatpants because, you know, shopping typically involves trying things on, but now he's wondering if he should've put on his nice slacks and a button down because holy shit does he feel underdressed right now.

"Ah, good. You are on time."

And sure enough, here comes Logan in his goddamned suit. Does the man own casual clothes? Logan gives him another look up and down and no, Roman doesn't imagine the way his nose turns up ever so slightly before fixing him with a stern expression.

"Am I right in thinking you don't have much experience buying formal wear?"

"Not for a black tie event, no."

"Lovely," he says, tone indicating this is anything but, "I expect you to pay attention."

"Logan," he says quickly before Logan can actually make it to the door, "I can't—I can't afford anything here."

"Don't worry, I'll pay."

"You'll—what?"

"I said I'll pay for it, Roman, now come on—"

"Why would you do that?"

"Aside from the fact that you've just said you can't afford it?"

"You don't—" Roman pinches the bridge of his nose— "look, I don't know what game this is or what point you're trying to prove, but it's not—I don't need your charity, okay?"

"It's not charity, Roman. Every man should have at least three well-fitting suits."

"Three? It's one night, Logan, I'm not—I can't do this."

Logan's looking at him strangely, like he's the one being weird about this—which he's not, he's being very reasonably suspicious and Logan shouldn't be looking at him like that—before he turns on his heel and heads down the block. After a moment of realizing that Roman's not walking with him, he reaches back and tucks his hand into the crook of Roman's arm the way he did at the party, which Roman still isn't thinking about, thank you very much, leading him around the corner to a coffee shop that also looks too expensive. He holds his tongue this time, resigning himself to whatever it is Logan's decided they're doing, taking the cup pushed into his hand and following Logan back outside.

Logan leads them to a bench in a more secluded area of the street, sitting down and nodding for Roman to sit next to him. "What's making you uncomfortable?"

Roman scoffs, but then Logan furrows his brow and…shit, he's actually being sincere. He swallows. "Aside from the fact that everyone in there looks like they're wearing my rent?"

"They're only clothes, Roman."

He doesn't register the surprisingly gentle tone Logan's using. "They're not just clothes, they're—they're—I don't belong in that world, Logan. I'm not gonna try to force myself into it."

"What world?"

"The world where I can spent rent on a suit and have that be fine. The world where people are that rich and that—that—" he suddenly remembers that Logan is one of said rich people, or at least is acting like it right now— "I just can't do it."

Logan's quiet for a moment, still just looking at him. Roman looks away, sipping at his coffee. Shit, it's good coffee too. Logan's probably thinking about how much of a waste of time this was, and he wasted his time the other day with buying the gifts too…and now with the whole party thing, maybe it's better to just leave.

That's not very seasonally gracious of you.

The memory of Logan's voice in his head shocks him into realizing how much of a dick he's being. Logan's doing this—presumably—out of the goodness of his heart, or at the very least he's not expecting Roman to pay him back or anything. And here Roman is, practically throwing a tantrum about it.

"Sorry," he says quietly, bowing his head, "I'm being an asshole, aren't I?"

"Being uncomfortable doesn't make you an asshole, Roman."

"Yeah, but…"

"No buts. I'd rather you tell me than suffer through it." The sincerity in his tone makes him look up again to see Logan still watching him. "What is it about it that's making it worse? Is it the money? I really don't mind paying for you. At the risk of sounding, well, like that, it's not that big of a deal to me."

He's gonna put that aside for now, yeah. "I just—I know how those people look at me."

"And how is that?"

He scuffs his toe through some of the salt congealing under the bench. "Like I'm not supposed to be there. Like I have the gall to be in the same room as them, or like I don't exist. I don't like it."

There's a pause. Then: "Do you think that's how I look at you?"

His head jerks over. Logan's hands are still around the coffee cup, but there's a bit of tension in them now. He adjusts his glasses even though there's really no need for it. He swallows.

"I don't…I really don't know how you look at me, Logan," he admits, "I thought that's what you were doing at first, but it's…I don't know, okay? Is that what you want to hear?"

"I'm not your enemy, Roman," he says with an unmistakable hurt that makes Roman want to throw up, "nor am I interrogating you."

"I know, I'm sorry. I…I didn't mean it like that."

Logan just looks at him for a few more seconds. He fidgets under it and looks away.

"Why're you doing this," he asks quietly, "surely there's an easier way to get around your boss's instructions?"

Another long pause. A car drives by and nearly splashes them with gray sludge. A dog barks at a pigeon taking flight.

"You're the first person who's successfully gotten me to buy actual presents for my family in almost ten years," Logan says suddenly, "and you managed it on the second time we'd ever met."

Hold on, Roman was what? He did what, now?

"And I thought about how my family would react to those presents and I found myself actually getting excited about it," he continues, like he isn't blowing Roman's mind right now, "so…perhaps there's something to this whole gift-giving, caring thing people like to peddle this time of year."

"They do say Christmas is the joy of giving."

"Quite, but I have no interest in making you out to be a charity case."

"You don't?"

Logan shakes his head. "No. If anything, this is my reward for myself. A selfish act to balance out the selfless one."

Roman frowns. "You…buying me a suit is you being selfish?"

A familiarly smug smirk curls up Logan's face and Roman will deny the way he swallows when he sees it until the day he dies. "No, me inviting the one person I'm genuinely fascinated by to an otherwise boring event of schmoozing and networking is the selfish act. The suit, well…aside from the fact that it is a crime that you've never been properly fitted for a suit before—"

"Hey! Again, not all of us are going to galas all the time!"

"—you managed to captivate me in a cheap sweater and worn jeans," Logan continues as if he hadn't spoken, voice suddenly a lot, lot lower, "and I can hardly pass up the opportunity to see you in something better."

Roman does not squeak. He does not turn bright pink, he does not shuffle like a schoolboy, he does not go all wide-eyed like some little fawn caught in the jaws of the Big Bad Wolf. He doesn't do any of those things because there's no way Logan just said that to him like it was nothing in the middle of the day while they're in public.

Logan's smirk just grows.

"You what?"

"Come, now, there's no need to be shy. You certainly have a healthy appreciation for my suits—" goddamnit— "can you truly begrudge me for having the same interest?"

"I—that's not—I didn't—shut up!"

He just chuckles, like an asshole, as Roman hides his splutter behind another sip of coffee. Thank God he's wearing a hat so Logan can't see how red his ears are right now.

"I don't need three suits," he manages with a remarkably steady voice, "not if the party's just one night."

"You never know, you might have the chance to attend another in the future."

Nope. Not thinking about that. Absolutely not, no, thank you. "I think sticking with just the one is fine for me right now."

"Very well." Logan stands with a swish of his coat. "One suit it is."

It takes until Logan's halfway down the block that Roman realizes he's been tricked into agreeing to let Logan pay for a suit, and the bastard doesn't even look sorry about it when Roman hollers after him.

Dick.

Of course, as soon as they get inside, part of him wants to leave immediately, but then Logan's hand is curling around his arm and he swallows, letting himself be guided across the sales floor to a section with a lot of black and navy fabric. He stares at the racks with what must be some form of abject terror because Logan's chuckling at him and leaning close.

"Don't worry, I'm not about to leave you on your own."

"You'd better not," he shoots back, but his voice comes out all high and thready.

Logan waves over a sales associate who's dressed better than Roman's ever been in his entire life and explains that Roman needs a suit. At least that's what he assumes just happened. In reality, there's a dull buzz in his head right now that's making it hard to focus on anything other than staying upright, not having a panic attack, and on the warmth of Logan's hand holding onto his arm through his coat. He does notice the associate eyeing his clothes a little disdainfully and quickly forces out: "Easier to change."

"Ah, how sensible. If only all of our clients were as considerate. Now, what sort of styles do you like?"

"I have absolutely no idea and I'm mostly scared to touch anything."

Both of them laugh and somehow manage to do it without sounding mean. "Do not worry, nothing in here bites, I assure you."

Roman can't help the way his gaze darts to Logan. Logan, because he is apparently determined to kill Roman today, winks at him.

"You're not helping," he hisses as the associate turns to pull something from a nearby rack.

"I don't recall promising to help, only that I wouldn't leave you alone."

"You're buying me another hot chocolate after this."

He does, and it's way too expensive and it tastes way too good and he wants to be mad about it and the garment bag he has to haul home, but then Logan's threatening to get him a cab as well and he high-tails it out of there before he makes good on it.

When he gets home, he just sort of…stands there for a moment, looking at the bag. In a daze, he reaches up and traces the emblem of the store embroidered into the black fabric. This is his suit. He actually owns it, it's made for him, it's something that he just has now. And yeah, maybe Logan was right: more than a small part of him is dancing at the idea of such a thing.

Before he can tell it to stop, that part of him whirls him through a set of doors and he's picturing himself in a grand ballroom with crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, music overflowing into the gardens, the balconies, as it should for any spectacular party. With this suit, he belongs there, just as much as anyone else, amidst the swirling skirts and glittering tidings, where he could stand on his own and be welcome, celebrated, even, as much as anyone else. Where a hand might extend to him and mean it, where he could look up at Logan's face and smile, and not have to worry that a kiss would be refused—

The garment bag hits the floor with a crumpled thud.

Roman blinks rapidly, giving himself a good shake. What the hell was that? How did Logan manage to sneak in there? What's that got to do with—

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, no.

No, no, no—no, shit, he is not doing this again. He knows better now, he's not that young or naive or stupid anymore, he is not getting caught up in some ridiculous thing that will only end with his heart in pieces on the floor and a wobbling smile on his face. He is not going to start doing that.

With a muffled groan, he snags the bag off the floor and stomps to the closet, hanging it up and shoving the door closed again. This is stupid. This is the third time he's met Logan, there's no reason for him to be doing this. Even if by some Christmas miracle Logan doesn't find out about this—because Roman wears his heart on his sleeve and Logan keeps doing that thing where he sees him—his traitor of a heart flutters again and he shoves a pin through its wings—he's still going to have to look at him at this stupid party and—and—

And his mind flashes back to that little bit of hurt he'd heard in Logan's voice when he asked if Roman thought he looked at him the way all those fucking rich people do. He swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. Would Logan look at him the same way now, knowing he was assuming the worst of him?

No, no, that's not right. Accurately predicting the rejection of his sudden and really very stupid feelings was not assuming the worst of him. If anything, Logan might complement him on his very mature and reasonable handling of unrequited emotions. Yeah, that was it. He just has to be an adult about this, the way everyone else has said the same thing his entire life. It's a good thing he realized these feelings now, actually, and not at the party where there will be other people and he'll be in that suit and Logan will be there too, because he's invited Roman of all people, going so far as to make sure he has something to wear…

He snaps himself out of it, almost glaring at the closet door. No. Not doing that. He's just going to go to this party as Logan's friend, spend the time being there the way a friend would, and not think about what would happen if Logan had asked him there as more than a friend.

He can do this.

***

He can't do this.

He's been standing outside the lobby of this big slab of glass and steel in the middle of downtown for about ten minutes now and he has no idea of how to move forward. He's on the list, he knows, because Logan sent him a confirmation email yesterday, so he doesn't have to wait here for someone else to show up and let him in, he definitely doesn't have to wait for Logan to show up so they can go inside, but here he is. Loitering. He's pretty sure it's only because of the suit that the front desk person hasn't called the cops or whatever.

"You've truly a wonderful sense of timing."

He whirls around to see Logan getting out of a sleek black town car. His mouth goes dry a little at the sight and he'll deny it forever. Take the fifth, or whichever amendment is the one that means you don't have to say shit. Logan's smirking at him by the time they're standing next to each other, though, so he's pretty sure he has some idea of what's running through his head.

"Hey," he croaks, clearing his throat, "thought about going in, but then I realized I'd have no idea of where I'm going."

"They could've told you."

Don't bring your logic here while I'm having a crisis. "Yeah, well, isn't it bad form to show up separately from the person who invited you?"

Logan gives him that look like he's being nice to him by letting it go—and hey, he is a lawyer, maybe that counts as being nice—and takes his elbow. "Come on, then. We're getting dangerously close to being disastrously late instead of fashionably late."

They walk through the door and Logan waves a card at the person behind the desk—ID badge, Roman's brain supplies helpfully. The elevator is just a normal elevator, thank God, but then it opens onto a floor of way too many people in expensive clothing and more of that pretentious not-Christmas music and it's all he can do not to immediately slam the 'down' button again.

"Relax," Logan says quietly, "it's just a party."

"Easy for you to say, you work here."

"Actually, that makes it worse for me: I have to see these people again after tonight."

A somewhat hysterical giggle bubbles up in Roman's throat but he steps out of the elevator all the same. There's a large booth off to one side where racks have been set up for people's coats, two smartly-dressed people manning a small desk. Logan walks up and passes over his coat without hesitating, which means Roman has to hustle a little bit to not get left behind in the crowd.

"So, what're we supposed to do?"

"Mingle," Logan sighs, like he's just been asked to hold up the heavens, "I am responsible for following up with a few of our more…anxious clients, but you just have to walk around and look pretty."

Roman snags an offered glass of champagne and downs about half of it in one go to avoid thinking about that too much. Logan just chuckles and starts leading his way through the masses, Roman trudging along behind him.

The first set of people they come across must be other people Logan works with on a regular basis; they react like Logan's the cool kid coming to join them at the lunch table when he strolls closer, one of them giving him a slap on the shoulder and the others raising their glasses in toast. A change comes over him, growing taller and sleeker as Roman watches before he realizes hey, this is probably one of those things Logan wants him to talk at. Sure enough, as he approaches, one of them spots him over Logan's shoulder.

"Is this the lucky man with you tonight?"

"Yes," Logan says, turning and extending a hand to gather Roman in close, "this is Roman. Roman, these are some of the insufferable colleagues I mentioned before."

"Hello, nice to meet you."

"Look, Logan, someone with manners," a woman says, dark eyes flashing over the rim of her glass, "you could learn something from him."

"You must be the one that threatened to stab him if he didn't get the right presents," he says, without thinking, only for the others to burst out laughing. The woman just grins.

"That would be me, yes." She holds out her hand. "Ava Nath. Pleasure to suffer through knowing Logan along with you."

"Roman."

"Claws to yourself, Ava," Logan says lowly and fuck, Logan being all weirdly possessive around his friends—are they friends? Roman's really gonna hope they're friends—is doing things to Roman.

"How'd you manage to meet this one, Roman?" asks another man, nudging Logan with his elbow. "Can't have been through work, otherwise we'd've warned you away ages ago."

Roman swallows another mouthful of champagne. "Mutual friend."

"Oh? Which friend would that be?"

"You guys realize we're not in a court room, right? You don't have to interrogate me if you don't want to."

Again, thank God they took that as a joke, laughing again even as Logan's hand lands warmly on his upper back. The man waves his hand in a gesture of surrender. "Sorry. Ask anyone here, it's hard to turn off."

"No, it's fine, I…should've expected it. I'm friends with Patton, that's how we met."

"Patton…from down on the 16th floor, yes. Sweet guy. Makes sense." He gives himself a shake. "Here I am forgetting my manners too. Scott Kensington, pleased to meet you."

Roman shakes his hand. Logan's hand is still on his back, thumb slightly stroking the material of suit. He should not be paying attention to that, he should be paying attention to the conversation.

He takes another gulp.

"Well, you just got here, so you've still got your rounds to do."

Logan groans. "Don't remind me. Just tell me that Forstby isn't here yet."

"Oh, God, no, he'll probably stumble in about an hour from now."

"Small mercies. Well, it was lovely catching up with you, but I'm afraid we're needed elsewhere. Roman?"

"Yep, I'm coming."

"Pleasure meeting you," Ava calls as he's ushered away, "come back when you're done!"

"Will we be doing that?"

Logan rolls his eyes. "If we must. Come on, now, we've more hands to shake."

It turns out that meeting people in rapid succession is not a good way for him to remember names, or faces, instead he just gets more and more through this glass of champagne with a pasted-on smile and a few comments he doesn't think about that thankfully just make everyone else laugh. He's pretty sure Logan can tell, though, judging by the way his hand never leaves his back or his shoulder for longer than about ten seconds at a time. He'd like to resent him for that. He really would. He'd also like to resent him for feeding the fantasy Roman's brain has been helpfully pushing at him all night but he's ignoring that one like a champ.

They end up in a conversation with one of the firm's clients, not that he really knows what that means—okay, no, he does know what that means, he just doesn't know what he's supposed to do about it. The couple is a striking older duo, a man with ginger hair flecked with salt and pepper, as is his beard, introducing himself as Ben, and a stunning blonde woman with high cheekbones and a piercing green stare who tells him call me Sadie. They'd both spoken warmly to Logan upon seeing him, gathering him in for a hug—which he hadn't been shocked by, nope, not at all—before turning to Roman. He'd stumbled his way through an intro, belatedly offering his hand, only for them to…well, basically coo at how adorable he is. He minds a little less than he'd thought. They explain how they met through a mutual friend again and the three of them have been talking about something business related ever since. Which means Roman can just nod in the right places, laugh in the right places, and not think about anything else.

Nope.

Not at all.

"But that's enough business talk," Ben sighs, "this is supposed to be a party."

"That doesn't typically stop you," Sadie says, to which Ben huffs and she turns her smile to Roman. "Forgive us."

"Nothing to forgive, I get it."

"I suppose we have you to thank for this evening?"

"Uh, what? Sorry, I, um…how so?"

"Come now, there's no need to be coy about it. We all know Logan's a bit of a Grinch when it comes to the holidays," Ben says with a wink at Logan.

"If being practical makes me a Grinch, then yes, I suppose so."

"See what I mean?"

"We weren't sure he was even going to be here," Sadie continues, "so I presume I have you to thank for getting him in the spirit?"

Which…is not how Roman thought this worked out. Logan told him about the party, told him he needed a guest to bring, like it was a mandatory work thing that he had to go to. Not…what he's currently being told. But before he can say that, or something to that effect, Logan's rolling his eyes again. Seriously, the man puts in a full eyeball workout every hour, it looks like.

"Ava's already declared her allegiance for him after learning he helped me with gift-getting, I don't need you two doing the same."

"You, willingly buying presents that aren't run-of-the-mill?" Ben says. "You are a miracle worker, Roman."

"It wasn't that big of a deal."

"It was," Logan corrects gently, looking at him with actual affection, "and I don't believe I ever properly thanked you for it, so thank you."

"Um…you're welcome?"

Sadie laughs. "Next thing you know, you'll be throwing your own Christmas party."

Roman laughs along with her. The idea of cynical, practical Logan throwing a Christmas party will do that. He can just imagine Logan's face at the idea too—

"I've actually been considering it."

He knows his head is not the only one that snaps around to stare when Logan says that. Ben recovers first, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Not this, obviously," Logan continues, gesturing about, "but something with a few friends, certainly."

"Will wonders never cease…I never thought I'd see the day where you willingly get into the festive spirit."

"What can I say? It's that time of year."

"It certainly is," Sadie says, her gaze sliding far too neatly to Roman for a little too long. "Well, I hope that if you do deign to throw such a party, the two of us will be invited?"

"Naturally."

And then there are polite excuses being made as to why everyone has to be elsewhere and they're back to mingling again. Roman's brain is still stuck on the idea of Logan at a Christmas party. An actual Christmas party, where there's cheap alcohol and shitty music and terrible sweaters. He manages to get through a few more brief conversations before he's mumbling to Logan about needing a break and wandering off in search of the nearest window.

He manages to find one far enough away from the pounding music—and open bar—but close enough that Logan won't have to look around forever to find him. He leans against the edge, watching the snow drift between the skyscrapers. Absentmindedly, he tugs at his collar, as if it could get his mind away from the thoughts still swirling around and around his brain.

This is going fine. This is going great, even. It's just like what he normally does at parties: socialize for a little bit, find and hang on to the people he actually knows, and then find a quiet corner to just be by himself. He didn't even check to see if Patton would be here—no, no, Patton's with his partner now, he left last week. Well, that makes it only Logan that he knows here, not counting the few people whose names he's managed to remember.

That's fine too. Completely, totally fine. Absolutely nothing to worry about.

He takes another drink and finds the glass empty. Well, sallying forth to try and procure another one sounds like a bad idea, so he's just gonna have to deal with it.

"You," comes an amused voice from behind him, "are far too sober to be looking so worried."

He huffs a laugh, turning to see Logan holding out a fresh glass of…something that definitely isn't champagne. He takes it, eyes it warily, and at Logan's pointed stare, takes a sip. He doesn't cough, because he's not that bad at this, but he does make quite the face.

"You'd think I just handed you a glass of cyanide, it's just whisky, there's no need for all of that."

"Don't think it's quite to my taste." But he's also not in the habit of refusing a drink, so he tries another sip. This time he lets it sit on his tongue for a few moments before swallowing and it's…mildly better. "Thanks."

"I felt obligated to do a morale check." Logan glances over his shoulder. "The wolves haven't torn you to shreds yet, have they?"

"I thought sharks were the lawyer metaphor animal."

"Both suffice in their own ways. Both have a reputation for being particularly ruthless or determined, an association with chasing bloodshed. Keen senses, for noticing when someone's deflecting."

"Yeah, yeah, we get it," he grumbles, "I'm fine. Just…needed a minute."

"No one's looking at you funny, are they?"

He's about to give Logan a hard time for teasing him about something that he knows is a sore spot, he made his point already, but when he looks up, Logan's looking at him with a small furrow between his brows and the retort shrivels up. He shakes his head. Logan's shoulders relax.

"Good."

"Ava and Scott seemed cool. So did Ben and Sadie."

Logan hums, still watching him. He shuffles under it.

"What?"

"Is there something else bothering you? You seem upset still."

"I'm fine, really, just…not used to all of this," he finishes, somewhat lamely, "most of the parties I go to are more low-key. You know, bunch of people in a house, food, drink…that's it. Kind of like what you were describing."

"I hope you know that you'd be invited too."

"R-really?" He can't help the slight laugh of disbelief. "But we barely know each other."

"And yet, you're the only one who's managed to convince me that there might be something to all this holiday nonsense. You think I'd do something festive and not make you suffer through it with me?"

"See, you say there might be something to it, then you call it nonsense that you have to suffer through."

"Just because there's something redeeming about it doesn't mean I suddenly have to enjoy it."

"You really are a lawyer."

Logan laughs at that, a proper laugh, and that's just fucking unfair that he's a gorgeous bastard when he laughs too. He shakes his head, and Roman quickly looks back out the window. Nope. Not thinking about it. Not thinking about anything at all. No thoughts, head empty, that's him.

"You would come, though."

"Huh?"

"If I did have a party. You would come?"

"Of course I would," he says before his brain catches up to what he's saying and realizes that…yes, he actually would. He'd be happy to. "Just let me know when and where."

Logan smiles. Then it fades slightly, and Roman stands up a little more, about to ask what's wrong. His mouth opens and that, of course, is when someone comes up to talk to Logan and the moment's gone almost as quickly as it came.

"I have to go," Logan says, "don't run off this time, would you?"

"I'll be here."

Logan touches his arm again and turns, touch lingering just a bit on the edge of his bare wrist and Roman takes a huge gulp of the whisky.

Shit.

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[ashsostrange]

"averagegirlie" is just "xxoxobree", formerly known as "breeandhermunches" on a burner. newsflash, your "fav" miles writer isn't who you think she is!

ik a lot of us must be VERY confused so let me help you out. @/averagegirlie and @/xxoxobree are the same mfkn person! why did bree make this account? i assume that it's so she could fend for herself and keep the "unbothered" act up on her main page. that's why she deletes all her reblogs after arguing w someone then comes over to this account to start bsing. not to mention she can say extremely problematic things with no repercussions, because she doesn't have a following on that page + it's not tied to her.. at least it wasn't before! bree's a very messy liar. i peeped the truth so lemme share it w y'all.

bree if you're seeing this, go take a couple shots before you read. you should've kept it cute but you didn't, so let's get nasty mf.

i have receipts! let's start right here cz i find this the funniest:

nobody but her spells "internet" like that... this is one of the many examples of the two accounts talking alike, even though bree said she wouldn't refer to "yao" as a friend when the whole rashad thing was going down. yesterday, i reminded yao of that. she said "i like bree, so what" but she deleted that and changed it to "when are y'all gonna catch on to the fact that we talk?" mhm.. bree's a lil confused, but next!

y'all see "yao's" tag? telling alexa to play some bs... then y'all see bree?? NEXT!

go look on miss average's page. she only comes online to defend and ride the hell out of bree's dick. remember ts w amani? why are you going so hard for someone who says they dk you like that LMFAO. not to mention, when the rashad shit was happening, bree said "this my girl and she never been wrong" but then she turns around and says "i wouldn't say we're friends" WHICH ONE IS IT MISS MUNCH??! 😭🤣🤣 next!

why we praising tf out of bree's oc? ts was ai bro. we got a self supafan. next...

look at this smart anon, putting tg the pieces and shit. "ash and dalia fight your battles every time" is literally.. a lie. what battles are we referring to? talia's never in drama as much as you're implying. and ima ride for my friends anyway, tf? but my entire blog will never be centered around ONE human being. it ain't that serious ever. "yao" and bree need hobbies cz writing obv ain't doing it for her. next.

bree has also said she's messy lol. she likes drama. hm!

look at how she came on her white horse when bree was battling the great war w anons over miles morales smut (which i don't fw, js to be clear.) who summoned her? BREE LMFAIOFHDGFKJAS... NEXT!!!

here's miss xxoxo munches being ableist, much like her alter ego. bro went silent and blocked lia after this. now let's get into miss average again.

look at this bs. ion even gotta say much.. this girl is black & not chinese!! y'all should know why this is weird. here's the "evidence" she gave me btw:

here's me proving her wrong! she tried! next.

y'all see the way they're tagging their posts w their usernames? mhm.. ik you do.

HMMM....

these are both bree. i don't mean to bring up maye again, but i have to for context. what happened wasn't js "drama"... the things she said to dalia were racist + that post she was lyin' about lia in. she also liked the post.. dead giveaway you silly bitch! 🥱 nd she was also instigating in honey's inbox. i know her typing style and her emoji colors lol. it's common sense atp. it's not hard to tell when an anon is bree. and from what i'm seeing not even maye is fw her.. LMFAISAIDHSAY GIRL YOU'RE DONE! 😭 feel free to go thru their accs, you'll see ts too. she's funny asf for this, i'll give her that and that only. i've never laughed so much in under 24 hours. 💓

in conclusion, bree is messy, bored, insecure, ableist & miserable! she thought nobody would ever find out but here we are today. she fronts not gaf but then switches to this acc to let off some serious steam... as miss freeman once said: "Alexa, play yikes!"

but bless bree 💗 maybe if you change now, you'll still be able to collect your tokens like dalia says.

[hookedsworks]

Edge(ING) Fitness - Chapter XXIX

Vessel's POV.

ao3

masterpost

It was just Vessel tonight for boxing. Ives strolled in about five minutes before, while Vessel was fussing with hand wraps to stabilize his wrists for punching. 

“Hey, Ives, do my wraps look okay?” 

“I'll look in a second, just need to put my bag down,” Vessel wanted to ask Ivy about a million questions about the date with III the other day. III had briefly texted him about it but he hadn't been able to get any details. He refrained. He thought that Ives was his friend, but they'd never talked much. He was more of a teacher than anything. 

“I can see the steam coming out of your ears. What are you thinking so hard about?” Ivy asked, hands readjusting Vessel's wraps. Man, I wish II were here. 

“Um. Just, form stuff. I think I need some help with my stance,” chicken shit. 

“Well, since it's just you, we can work on anything you like,” Vessel thought about it for a second. Conversation can come later. He actually was really enjoying these classes and he didn't want to let his worries get in the way. 

“Okay, well, I'm not sure about this,” and Vessel tried to settle into a stance, but he knew there was something weird about it. Ivy circled him, looking up and down at his entire form. 

“Can I touch you to reposition you?” 

“Oh, sure,” Ivy proceeded to tap Vessel's knee from the back so it popped out even with his toe, and tucked his elbows closer into his body. 

“How's that feel?” But before Vessel could answer, Ivy moved his leg again, repositioning him in a way that felt way more stable. 

“Better,” 

“Your legs weren't quite far enough apart, which would lead to you being easier to topple,” Vessel nodded in understanding. “So, do you think you'll go out with II again?” Was Ivy feigning disinterest? Vessel couldn't quite tell. 

“I'd like to. I think we've both just been a bit busy. Why do you ask?” 

“Well, because I went out with your guy, III, the other day,” 

“And how'd that go?” Where the fuck is he going with this? 

Ivy threw a punch. Vessel blocked. He threw a return punch. 

“It was good. But I don't know if we're going to go out again,” 

“No?” Fuck, that'll break III's heart. “You'll break his heart if you tell him that,” 

“Break his heart? We went on one date,” oh what is this? Vessel rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, and he told me he wanted a, quote unquote, “very reasonable nine hundred and sixty seven more”. If you ask him out, he'll be at your door within an hour,” 

“Why isn't he here with you?”

“Oo, careful now. Sounds like you like him,” Vessel teased. Ivy flushed red to his roots. “Oh, you do like him, like, a lot, don't you?” Ivy mumbled and then threw a more vicious punch into Vessel's kidney. 

“Never leave your sides unguarded,” 

“Fine. He's not here because his marathon is in 2 weeks,” 

“Why does he do that to himself, run marathons?”

“If you ask him, he'll tell you,” Ives just nodded then, clearly sick of Vessel shoving him toward III. “Look, it's not my place to say why. It's sad. And if you guys are gonna go out, you should show interest in him anyway. Or he'll think you don't like him. None of this is my place, But I know III, and if you don't text him or call him or something, he'll think he did the date wrong and you don't like him,” 

“Okay,” was all Ivy said in return. Thay pissed Vessel off and he flung a punch into Ivy's kidney. The class carried on for a while, til both of them collapsed in a sweaty heap when Ives tackled him. He had gone pretty hard on Ivy, partly for III who had been a wreck for the two days he hadn't heard from Ivy. Partly because he hadn't heard from II in a few days and he was starting to worry that II had lost interest. 

“Does II like dinner?” oh that's a stupid question. 

“That's a stupid question. Who doesn't like dinner?” 

“I guess I mean fancy dinner,” 

“You let that man put on nice clothes and pick you up at eight, and you'll have a ring by the new year,” Ivy clearly meant it as a joke, but Vessel's mind ran away with it anyway. 

“I'm gonna text him right now,” Vessel walked toward his bag and his phone. But II was walking past the boxing room. So Vessel decided to just poke his head out the door and ask. 

“Vessel, hi!” II seemed happy to see him. Nerves got him for a second but he spit it out. 

“Would you want to do dinner next week?” 

“Oh, yeah, that'd be awesome. Did you have some place in mind?” 

“Yeah, but it's kind of fancy,” II lit up. Vessel nearly swooned. He was completely over the moon for II and his smile was worth more than any gold or gem. 

“I love fancy. Send me the details?” II winked and then continued on. Vessel watched as he walked away, until he was out of sight. He's so pretty. “Hey, III,” Vessel heard Ivy behind him and turned around, knowing damn well III wasn't here. Ivy had his phone jammed up against his face. Man of action, I guess. Ivy waved Vessel off, grinning and listening to III through the phone. “Bye,” Ivy mouthed at Vessel. Vessel took that to mean class dismissed and gathered his things. He sent II the restaurant and then called said restaurant to make a reservation for two. The hostess was cheerful and excited to help Vessel get a secluded booth. He scheduled it for Friday, so he could go on a run with III on Saturday. III was really winding up his training. Vessel texted III to make sure he was still running in the morning.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

yandere benkei....

DAMMIT I was AT WORK, BUT THIS SHIT IS FIRE AS FUCK. PHEW, YOWZA I WROTE SO MUCH

Break the Seal: Keizo Arashi x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.3k

tw: yandere, dub-con, drinking

masterlist

Keizo isn't really the type to take control of someone's life. He's always been the type to "live and let live", you know?

But when he stumbles across you - little you standing in some dark alleyway - trying to make your way out but being blocked by a sincere pervert, he can't help but take control.

And when his fist comes down on the man's face, instinct overrides his mental capacities. There is no logic in the way Benkei tries to defend you, none at all. But when he's done, and you thank him, practically falling into his arms and holding him against you, there's another part of his brain that goes out of the window.

"Thank you for ssssaving me," you slur, gripping his forearms tightly.

"Not a problem," Keizo grunts, but you press yourself against him and wrap your arms around his neck. The music from the club fades back into his ears, and with the thrum of his heartbeat, he's sure someone nearby is dancing to the cacophony of sounds.

You lean forward, and the kiss is sloppy, slow, and somewhat uncoordinated, but it gets him harder than a brick. He's hard and ready, and you're willing and feeling him up in a dark alley, and -- wait.

"W-we should go somewhere more private," Keizo suggests, and you pull back, your breath laced with the scent of cheap rum.

"Sexy and smart," you huff. "I like that."

And with those words, Keizo ushers you toward the car waiting in the parking lot. It seems his entire brain has gone on vacation by the time he gets back to his apartment right above the dojo, helping you into the one-bed-one-bath by lifting you over the steps with one arm.

When he gets you inside, you take a moment to admire the place - the minimalistic decor apparently calls to your senses - and then you begin to take off every shred of clothing you have on.

Keizo feels stuck in a dream as he watches you come undone, and when you toss your hair over one shoulder, he practically takes it as a signal that he's free from the spell to come and claim you for himself.

And against his better judgment, he does.

Over and over again, Keizo's cock drills into you, giving you an enjoyable experience as you cum more than twice over his length. It's a fugue-like state he's in - fucking you and watching himself partake in such a devious act.

But that's also cast aside when Keizo finds his orgasm and presses your body against the couch to cum roughshod inside your divine pussy. He falls asleep holding you close, his face nestled in the dip of your shoulder.

Obsession isn't even a thought on Keizo's mind.

But when he awakens, and you're gone, he feels some guilt. He'd cornered you when you were vulnerable. And he hadn't even gotten your name.

"You've been driving yourself insane about this whole thing," Waka huffs, deftly dodging a swing from Keizo's fist. "Why don't you just let it go?"

Exhale, step, inhale, swing. Waka's block isn't enough to keep him on his feet. As the smaller man staggers, Keizo thinks of a response.

"I can't," he finally replies, his voice full of sadness. "I wish I could, but..."

"Have you been back to the club you saw her at?" Keizo's guilty expression is all Waka needs to see before his heart sinks. "You're borrowing trouble."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Wakasa grabs his water bottle and takes a long swig before answering.

"Listen, if she wanted to keep in touch, she would have left you her number or something. Or given you head in the morning, at least."

"What if," Keizo begins, taking his gloves off. "What if she was embarrassed by the whole thing? Maybe she thought I would be weirded out and reject her." Wakasa shrugs as he shakes his head.

"You'll never know unless you run into her again."

Waka's words stick with Keizo as he prowls the streets, keeping both eyes peeled for your face. His ears are on alert for your voice, like an FM radio tuned in to your waves.

As the night comes to a close, however, Keizo sees he's run out of options and is standing in the same exact spot he found you in. A wave of disappointment finally crests, and he exhales slowly, giving up his quest once and for all.

As Keizo turns away into the night, one final thought pops into his mind. He looks back at the club and then at the doorway. He'd never gone inside of the clubs. What if you were there, stowed away and just out of sight?

The bouncer at the door gives Keizo one look before letting him inside the barely-lit dance club, and bodies of all kinds weave through the crowd.

Keizo's mouth waters at the thought of running into you - you, among the wolves and ravenous men lurking in the shadows. It doesn't even occur to him that he's part of that same bunch as he peers down the bar at the various patrons. Your face doesn't materialize. Keizo leans back and spots the back of the bartender's head before calling out to them and raising a hand slightly.

When the bartender turns around, it takes Keizo a few seconds to recognize you with a wig and heavy makeup on. But you smile at him brightly and waltz over, your face more luminous than a star in the pitch-black sky.

"Hey," you greet him cordially, sliding him a napkin. "Never thought I'd see you in this type of place." Keizo chuckles, leaning in to hear your voice over the amplified bass.

"Practically where we met," Keizo replied easily. "You work here?"

"Only sometimes," you shrug, glancing behind him at the dance floor. "Just helping out a friend at the moment." Before he can stop his own hand, Keizo reaches out to touch yours.

"You just disappeared..." Your face sobers up, and you clear your throat.

"My bad. I... I was kind of embarrassed about the whole thing."

"Why?" You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and look away.

"The whole thing was kind of a mess. Didn't want to complicate your life or anything. But you have my thanks always." Keizo hums, pulling his hand away. You blink, then shake your head to clear your thoughts. "Uh, d'you want something to drink? It's on the house."

"Only if you're serving it," he teases, and you throw him a winning smile. "Make me something good. I trust you."

I trust you.

Keizo isn't sure what trust really is, though. Is it the feeling of allowing someone to know your deepest thoughts without fear of judgment? Is it the urge to confess all of your sins and then pray the person would forgive you by proxy? Or is it simply sharing a drink with someone in a crowded dance club?

"Bottoms up," you announce, sliding him a shot and taking your own. An informal toast is made, and Keizo downs the liquid without grimacing.

"Keep 'em comin'...?"

"My name's y/n," you offer, smirking. "And yours?"

"Keizo, but everyone calls me Benkei."

"I'll call you Benkei, then." You pour another shot and toss it back. "

The more you drink, the more Keizo is thankful he's other to watch out for you. One shot for him, one for you. And it's hitting you harder than him. By the end of your shift, you're stumbling again, and Keizo leads you out of the club, covered in his jacket to hide your lack of proper clothing.

"So wasted," you moan, climbing into his car.

"Yeah," Keizo agrees, starting up the engine. "I'll run you a bath, and you can crash at my place."

"You'd let me do that?" you wonder, then you hum in appreciation. "I'm so lucky to have you, Benkei."

The rumblings of something sinister bubble up in Keizo's chest, but he just takes your hand and kisses it possessively.

"No," he whispers. "I'm the lucky one."

[ticklishfizzy]

✿.｡.:* ☆:**:. Hey loveys! I do RP now so I thought I'd get boundaries and all that good stuff out of the way. ◦•●◉✿ Things you should expect: ☆ I'm mainly lee. I ler occasionally, but if you're expecting it don't get your hopes too high up. ◉ I don't do angst typically. If you want a hurt/comfort scenario, feel free to ask me about it, the worst I can say is no. ☆ I don't get upset easily! If I tell you no or that I don't feel comfortable with something, it's just me communicating, I'm not upset or mad at you. Unless you're a shit person. Then I'm upset. ◉ I curse pretty frequently, and when I play certain characters it varies. Communicate with me if you don't like it and I'll tone it down. ☆ I like my headcannons and I'm keeping them, thank you very much. If you don't like them we don't have to incorporate them but trying to force your own opinion onto me is just rude. ◦•●◉✿ General boundaries regarding RP content: ☆ If I don't know you or follow you, chances are I'm going to want to get to know you at least a little before RP. ◉ Absolutely NO NSFW! This should go without saying but I'll say it anyway. ☆ Communicate your boundaries with me! It shouldn't be a one-sided conversation, I want to know how you feel and what makes you comfortable. ◉ Bondage scenarios (even if completely SFW) are absolutely out of my comfort zone. So are interrogation scenarios, something about them never really sat right with me. ☆ I'm an age regressor. If you'd like to incorporate this into our RP session run it by me first, but most times it's a no if I don't trust you completely. ◉ If you make me uncomfortable I am going to voice it. Don't get offended, just adjust accordingly please. Boundaries are not insults. ☆ No foot stuff, please. No offense to the people who like it, there's nothing wrong with it, I just don't like it. ◉ Use the green, yellow and red rule. In case you don't know or need a refresher, green is go ahead, yellow is slow down, red is stop. It seems weird for just an RP, but it gives some level of comfort to me. ☆ If you ignore the above rule I either won't respond or block you on the spot. Gauging responses is a good way to weed out the bad people if you catch my drift. ◦•●◉✿ Characters I will RP as: ☆ Vox (Hazbin Hotel) ◉ Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) ☆ Adam (Hazbin Hotel) ◉ Husk (Hazbin Hotel) ☆ Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) ◉ Fizzarolli (Helluva Boss) ☆ Nico Di Angelo (Percy Jackson) ◉ Will Solace (Percy Jackson) ☆ Keith Kogane (Voltron) ◉ Floyd Leech (Twisted Wonderland) ☆ Dipper Pines (Gravity Falls) ◉ Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen - Alive AU) ◦•●◉✿ Specific characters I will NOT RP as/with: ☆ Valentino (Hazbin Hotel) yes that's it ◦•●◉✿ Some extra notes and info: ☆ I use he/him pronouns both in and out of RP, you'll notice I only play male or masculine-presenting characters. ◉ If I don't answer right away, don't spam me or take it personally. I don't get message notifications from Tumblr, I also have my laptop on Do Not Disturb most of the time due to work and schooling reasons. ☆ PLEASE DO NOT RESPOND WITH HATE TO THIS POST. I'll say this until I'm out of breath, boundaries are not insults! They were made with everyone in mind, not just you! ✿.｡.:* ☆:**:. Overall, just follow my boundaries and communicate yours with me so we can both have a safe and fun time. •.¸♡𝚝𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒 𝚒𝚕 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚖𝚊 𝚒𝚕 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚊 𝚝𝚎♡¸.•

[medics-secret-shipfic-folder]

TF2 + Snapcube Sonic Real-time Fandub Quotes

This is mainly just Cheavy with Eggman's lines.

Sniper, holding a bar of Australium: Do you know where the closest Hot Topic is?

Scout: Hey! Put that down! That's an expensive gold bar!

Sniper: GOLD DOESN'T GLOW, DICKNIPS!

-

Cheavy: *loud sigh* I miss my Medic, Frankenstein. I miss him a lot. I'll be back.

Medic: ???????????

-

Cheavy, to the RED team in New Zealand: It seems you bitches have come to a standstill in fuckin' Atlantis. You have 13 seconds before the island fucking explodes you Hot-Topic wannabe and you red-gumball sons-of-bitches! You have done nothing but ruin my life and I hope you all DIE!

-

Soldier: HOW THE FUCK DID WE GET TO EGYPT!?

-

Cheavy: Hey bitches! Didn't expect to see me, did ya?

Medic: Oh hey, Cheavy. Some weird guy named Gray-

Cheavy: Frankenstein, I have had enough of you! You took my Medic, you fucked my crops - I'm taking your life! AND THE AUSTRALIUM!

-

Engie: Hey, Medic, I have a question. Can you please explain to me how you fuck crops?

-

Spy: Scout, listen to me! I know who your father is! (dies)

Scout: DON'T YOU FUCKING LIE TO ME!

-

Cheavy: Get the fuck out or i'm shooting your Medic in the fucking face! I swear to god! I'll do it, you bitch! GET OUT!

-

Cheavy: Well honey your mascara is on fleek but we gotta get the fuck outta here cause the building's about to explode - RED STRIPES!? JET BOOTS!? OH MY GOD-

Medic: Don't worry, I can fly! This'll never be brought up again!

-

Cheavy: Frankenstein, please join me by my side and we'll rule the Earth together! You can stand by me even though I can't see SHIT through these fucking goggles-

Medic: No, because you're old.

Cheavy:

Medic: lol get rekt you old scrub-man. Anyways I'm gonna go fuck your Medic now.

Cheavy: WHAT!? You're not allowed to fuck my Medic! FRANKENSTEIN! GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE! FRANKENSTEIN! WHAT THE FUCK-

-

Cheavy: Now, to try to log onto my Twitter once more. Lets see if this computer works...

Computer: *welcome to Twitter.com*

Cheavy: *gasp* Doc! What have you been tweeting about...WHAT THE FUCK!? IS THAT FRANKENSTEIN'S DICK!?

Medic over the news: Hah! I fucked your Medic! Now if you'll excuse me, I've got other bitches to get into bed with. Isn't that right...uh, the Classic Medic? I'm sorry I don't know what to call you-

Cheavy: WHAT IN THE SAM HILL IS THIS-

-

Cheavy: I'M BACK IN THE FUCKING BUILDING AGAIN!? OH MY GOD-

-

Cheavy: I told you not to fuck my Medic!

Medic: And I did anyway! What're you gonna do about it, bitch?

-

Cheavy: Alright, since the RED team fucked my Medic, I need both of you as part of my team!

Bea: I mean, I guess that's fine. As long as I get my weed back, I don't care.

Cspy: I don't have a character motive.

Cheavy: Listen! We are going to explore this island and find Sniper! He has all the weed that you need! That ganja, that mary jane - MARAJAMIJ! All in his pockets! He is your local drug dealer and I am gonna blow up this island! Now go look for him, and hurry up!

-

Cheavy: What are you two FUCKING talking about!?

-

Heavy: I fucked your Medic. He's mine now.

Cheavy: WHAT IN THE ACTUAL SHIT-

-

Cheavy: I've come to make an announcement! FRANKENSTEIN IS A BITCH-ASS MOTHERFUCKER-

-

Medic: Oh hey look, it's Sniper. Hopefully he didn't hear me call his name. *calls Heavy* Hey, Heavy?

Heavy: What's up, baby?

Medic: I found Sniper. He's dead. You want me to punish him?

Heavy: No, don't do that. He's already dead.

Cheavy: WHY IS YOUR HEAVY ON THE SAME LINE AS THE VILLAIN LINE!?

-

Cheavy: WHO POSTED MY NUDES ON TWITTER.COM!?

-

Miss Pauling: I have this manual on how to hack into the Twitter headquarters just so I can post it to the whole world! So you better hurry up with your explanation before I just do it!

Medic: It looks like every Tetris block at once!

Cheavy, over the radio: HAVE YOU BEEN FUCKING TALKING ABOUT MY DICK AGAIN!? ON GOD, WHEN I SEE YOU AGAIN IT IS ON SIGHT! IT IS ON SIGHT-

Medic: Piss off. *hangs up* Anyways, begone thot.

[conniesministallion]

" Say it out loud "

Connie x black!reader pt.1

TWS: Drugs, Cheating, Mention of SH, minor character death, mental illness.

Do not read if you are under 18. You will be blocked if your age is not in your bio.

Notes: This is my first fic on tumblrr so it may not be perfect lol.

Tuesday

Chicago, Il

5:04 am

Y/N POV

“ I honestly can’t keep doing this it’s killing me. You’re driving me crazy, now tell me what the hell happened .”

“ Don't worry your pretty head about it baby, just relax he's not dead he just yk....learned a lil lesson.”

“It’s too early for this.” I hang the phone up, laying it on my desk. Heading to the bathroom and washing my face. He does this all the time, it’s been five years and he can’t seem to keep it together. What the hell goes through his head everyday. I open the drawer/mirror to see my edge control is missing.

" I swear its everyday with these bitches" I whisper to myself, before sticking my head out of the bathroom door.

" Now which one of you whores used my shit and didn't put it back" , I yelled to my roommates.

" Sorry y/n, I swear I was gonna put it back here you go.", Maya comes out of out of her room handing me the gel before quickly retreating back to her room.

" Like I said, everyday with these bitches." I say out loud.

My lace is liftin, my nigga trippin, and one of my hoes is missin. I cannot stand no one right now. I swiftly fix the lace of my black and pink lace front.

" Its definitely time for a new one." thinking to myself. Walking to my closet, I pull out a black bralette with a pink miniskirt with fur boots and leg warmers. This should be good for now. I just need to find out what the hell happened. Connie and Eren are not answering my questions and I know their asses had something to do with it. Always starting shit and can never be confronted about it.

" This friend group is full of psychos I swear." Eren, Jean and, Con with their anger issues, Armin and Reiner with their D.I.D, and Sasha with her....girl yk lol. We all met at our senior prom it was um...an interesting night. I mean if you call trauma and drinking a fun time then you'll know what I mean. However, it did bring us all together. How we didn't know each other in high school I'll never know but getting to know them all has given me somewhat a new joy in life.

I've been thinking so much I didn't realize I've driven to Jean's. Dissociation will do some weird things to you while driving especially when you don't need it to. I make my way to the back door and knock loudly.

" Open the door whores you know what I'm here for." I hear a voice on the other side and loud footsteps.

" Damn ma I'm coming gimme a sec." Jean swings the door open and steps to the side as I walk in. Turning around folding my arms, I stare at him intensely.

" Now tell me, do you know what happened or I should I harass the twin buffoons for answers." I asked him. Wrapping his arm around my shoulder he pulls me in.

" I'll let you harass the idiots meanwhile, wanna smoke a blunt wit me hm? "

" Of course Jean baby lets go." I grab his wrist as we make our way to the hangout area. Which is technically the basement but we drunkenly decorated the place after Eren's birthday. I grab the dark blue bean bags from the corner and drag them in front of the flatscreen tv mounted on the wall. I look to the side and spot Jean heading over to the table with the stash. Sitting beside me and grinding the weed before sprinkling the contents in the roller paper.

" So, tell me what happened this time." He says

I turn to the the side to face him with a pout on my face. " I think Con is getting possessive again. I mean he has Lina, why is he acting like I belong to him." I explain.

" You know y/n, I think he's using her as an excuse to not have to deal with getting over you. He's obsessive, if you think he'll give you up that easily.....sorry ma but you're slower than I thought." He says while licking the blunt. " Hand me the lighter plz."

I reach in my pocket and pull out the pink lighter. It has everyone's initials written in diamonds. Handing it to him I sigh, " He's a damn psychopath if he thinks this will win me back."

" In that case, your delusional if you think I can't have you back."

[etherealestimation]

you my friend just got an exceptionally quick lesson on time travel.

what.

it's 6:04. it was 6:43 2 minutes ago.

start making sense to me dude

you died. croaked. you're about to do it again. it's hard to describe but-

[sound of earthquake, confused hollering, (over fiber optic cable) furious typing]

[sound of bookshelf tipping over, terrified scream]

you my friend just got an exceptionally quick lesson on time travel.

what

it's 6:00. that's a bit better than last time.

start making sense to me dude

no time to explain. get to a doorway right now.

what

[sound of earthquake, brace against door, bookshelf, terrified scream continues for more than an hour.

a look out the window. outbuildings reduced to rubble. neighbor's house still standing. house still standing. status good.

6:40. in the distance. a small fire burns. checks phone and goes to call GE.

the call is struggling to connect. the dial tone plays six times, for one for each five second block out of time spent on the phone. an automated assistant answers.

6:42:31. a tree cracks at the roots. right through the roof. of the leftmost room on the top. skull split like a coconut.]

it's yesterday right now. 11pm. you're getting acclimated. it's hard I know. you're going to need to try harder though. you'll lose the L1 through L4 or 5, kinda depends on your pineal gland at this point.

what what the fuck could you possibly need at 11pm dude i'm asleep i've got that exam tomorrow

yeah but it'll be fine. don't worry. this is more important.

more important

ydax58v998bc4sjohvshfqyjz5vug6dcz900nemzbwhnfpphzzpufvykkpsiaid4ozmwxswmnytjj7rh3hl784n3gijperxgb2ea

huh

[phone rings. D-7d 10:10:31. in the lecture hall across from the courtyard. student excuses self out of class.]

why did you call me

i'm in a lecture man

this is pretty good. maybe even a lot better. you're still missing most of your L1-L4 but L5 is getting at least partly successfully backed up. we could probably train L1 before L4 if you wanted.

are you okay

since. okay that'll sound weird. take it seriously though. I need you to think happy thoughts about: winter, tortoise, pinewood scent.

i'm going to hang up i think seriously are you okay though

just keep thinking it okay. 7iru88cznpsygcutwnzhbhmgt0rrg97t8m8tl46fs6uo4efdt84i1atf92w2gtxjodm2z7fdyo0ap64imy7fptxioi0dio5p7bzb. d2c54fpm4kvu7z3jj6gum8weiwebi0urgkfl8coax5j7017btmv9go8o0hrr88gm7uwbu1fkj0iu1tbg3ea0j8z5at7bshrz59rb.

am i missing something

ding! check your phone!

[D-3y-3m-4d]

who are you

no time to explain. I need you to think sad thoughts about a japanese garden.

what what does that word mean to you

nothing. to you?

[D-2y-6m-28d]

we just met and this is gonna sound insane, but I need to ask when you last remember me from.

uh

am I supposed to know how to answer that

hopefully!

[a long pause in the dark. the air is still and humid and thick.

two people behind a pizza hut. they're sharing the pizza.

D-2y-6m-27d. cars roll by.]

...$D

why do i kn

don't worry. can you remember the text you got on $D-3y-3m-4d. from a wrong number. sad thoughts about a japanese garden. do you remember that?

no?

shit. we're running out of space here. sad thoughts about the garden. the japanese garden. I never got this out of you but I know it's there.

[memories flood back. its strange sepia seeps across this brain. the shadow of his back. sweetness like a marshmallow candy. an unpleasant rotting on the back of one's tongue. the leather seats. the touch pressure of a cruel or dimwitted dentist trying to get thrown up on. like the other garden. hummingbirds take turns feeding from a fountain off a dirt road. grass pollen stains the air. lush watered green leaves a running water oasis on the back of this tanned grass plain.

the gardens]

i don't want to think of th

[quick flash. D-3y-3m-4d. 11:21:01.]

hey.

hey?

do i know you?

you will. what were you doing on $D-2y-6m-28d.

...i met you that can't be right dude what

good. good. how about $D.

i uh oh god

okay L4's all the way there I think. can you say precisely what happened on $D

[crying without sobbing.]

fine, we'll push that goal back a bit. but I think you got it so we can stop moving now.

[outright sobbing now. screaming no, no that didn't

it's not going to

it won't happen

it doesn't have to

if hasn't]

can I get you some water? this never gets any easier. I guarantee they're harder to experience than that.

who the fuck are you? what the fuck are you?

look you're not. you know what happened right?

nothing happened that's in the future that's not how time works

well you've got that wrong.

how did i do that

th

yeah

you thought about it. really hard. on a level that you're not used to think about anything. you remember that thought, it's the one you remember clear as day, but you're gonna have trouble parsing it because it's an emotion you've never felt before. you'll start to get a feel for it.

i think i still have to get to class.

it'll work itself out but you do. meet me here tomorrow.

[dreams. there are long streamers that hang off the back of a van which is filled with people. they dismount and fill an entire wall full of graffiti tags. they're passing out rattlecans of paint to passers by. the keys are lost. things go off the rails.

there's a boat just off the shoreline of a lake. two old men fish and watch carefully a pair of children, who also fish and look bored into the murky green waters of the reservoir.

in the gardens]

we don't have much time. I get like 5 minutes right?

my next class is actually in an hour i'm sorry i got cold feet i couldn't sleep last night at all i think i'm ready to believe you now

[euijoosorangeslice]

I literally met this guy at my job, and we went on one date, a bad date I might add, then he mentioned me quitting so he could support the both of us and our future son. Like we got hired at the same time, and I got promoted while he did not, so I made more than him at this job, and I technically was his manager. I ended up leaving that job, but before I did I had to block his number and all since he would message me weird shit, like I hope our son gets your grey eyes but my blond hair, and it's just like take a few hundred steps back you are getting way ahead of yourself. Like I dated this one guy that wanted a traditional wife, he was all you'll take care of the home and kids, but then in the same breath was all but bills will be 50-50, like you want a woman that is gonna work 40 hours a week and then come home and do all the housework and child care and cooking and all, while you work 40 hours a week and just get to come home and do nothing, what you really want is a mother.

What gets me is that so many men want a 60's housewife but don't want to be a 60's husband, also if you want a 60's housewife you need to be working like 70 hours a week and you also gotta get them the alcohol and Valium and uppers otherwise they aren't a true authentic 60's housewife; like that's why the wives of the 60's seem so much happier than women today, they were drunk and high on drugs most of the time, and there husbands were never home.

THAT PART, like don’t expect me to work and do childcare. When you work a job, you come home and you are done with your shift. But your shift is never over as a mother, that’s 24/7. There will be no housewife when I’m working a 9-5 and you want to come home and lay back like…

also most wives were being abused or sa’ed so I don’t know why men idolize that

[sweetrays]

About me: 

Just call me by my username I don't like using real names anymore

(bisexual transsexual male & 2 yrs on T) 

I write novels, short stories, and fanfiction

I draw novel illustrations and favorite characters

I'm autistic and therefore can be perceived  a little bit strange 

My dominant special interest fandom wise is Peter Pan stories. (Hook is my absolute favourite Peter Pan movie. You'll mostly see me talking about the character Rufio) 

I liked OUAT Peter Pan for a little while last year but it's not my thing anymore 

My other special interest is historical (mostly 19th century) fashion

A quick heads up:

I enjoy NSFW art, but I don't post any. There might be some reblogging of that here occasionally. 

A lot of the fanfictions I post are openly based off- have some sort of connection to my somewhat disturbing fetishes that involve characters dying or being hurt

I know some might not be comfortable with that.

If you'd like to be my friend please just skim through the readmore just in case you find my opinions distasteful. If you do, just block me I don't want trouble

My Internet Discourse Opinions

Stupid but very important in order to avoid ugly confrontations nowadays 🙁

"Proshipping" 

-the good pure holy shipping vs. icky yucky nasty evil creepy freak shipping stuff is bullshit. If you give me/a mutual shit over FICTIONAL ship your ass is getting blocked cause that's just a whole nother level of ridiculous. I do not condone the bullying and harassment that is so common in 'woke' fandom culture nowadays. It is disgusting that people are throwing around paraphilic accusations and words like p**o at innocent fanfiction authors who are just enjoying characters with no real malicious intentions. 

I come across ships on ao3 that absolutely disgust me on a day to day basis, even so, the last thing I'd want to do is be mean to the author/anyone who enjoyed that ship. That's because the author has just as much a right to write about just as I have the right to be uncomfortable. No character ship is illegal and people are allowed to be as gross or weird as they like as long as it remains fictional (which in 99.99% of cases no one is actively trying to encourage and/or normalising pairing that would be illegal irl) That's never how fandom, art, or fiction has ever worked. If you think otherwise, all I'm saying is you have some serious issues and you need help. 

When I write an age gap pairing I don't parade my fic around going "EVERYBODY START DATING YOUR FATHER!!" I tag with many warnings to avoid upsetting people who would be opposed to reading it + add a disclaimer explaining how I do not support such things in real life situations because I don't and neither does anyone else who ships 'problematic' things. 

Transgender discourse (neopronouns, etc) 

As a transgender male myself, I don't care what pronouns someone uses or what gender they claim to be. I am pro-block anti-harassment when I see someone I disagree with. 

However, I do block quite liberally when I see people saying that transgenderism is possible without dysphoria. Because it is not. Being trans is not a choice. Dysphoria is the cause of being trans. Even if it's just a tiny bit of dysphoria you are still valid. If you're a feminine presenting trans male, that is fine, if you're a masculine presenting trans female, that's fine too because even if you're trans you absolutely do not have to abide by society's confining gender stereotypes. 

But, if you are feminine presenting non-dysphoric afab going by he/him or a masculine presenting non-dysphoric amab going by she/her. That is not transgender. You just picked different pronouns. Which again, I don't care about the pronouns thing so whatever, but just please don't call that transgender because my brother in Christ, we are not the same. 

Therefore please leave me alone if: 

You have some sort of weirdly obsessive morality/legality bias against people minding their own business with character shipping in fandom

OR

Think that being trans is a choice. 

Thats all, have a nice day. Don't forget to block if you don't like me lol.

[ibubblesunoo]

welcome to yohan's corner 🎸

LOADING CHAT 💬 . . .

loading complete ✅

chat room #1

enter key: #1228

[user : yohan has entered the chat room]

[user : 404 has entered the chat room]

[yohan]

do you think they're gonna read this?

[404]

depends if they have the time to waste…

[yohan]

I'm not that boring am I?

[404]

it really just depends on the day sometimes your alright

[yohan]

well now that I have them here what do I talk about?

[404]

tell them about yourself you idiot

[yohan]

about myself?… well my name is yohan

[404]

yeah no shit they can see it as your chat name talk about the stuff they don't know about you

[yohan]

oh like the fact I'm trans and use he/him pronouns?

[404]

now your understanding it wasn't so hard wasn't it

[yohan]

well I'm also bisexual… what else I guess I'm emo and love the band 5 seconds of summer

[404]

god please don't get into a 5sos rabbit hole again I couldn't get you to stop talking about them last time you mentioned that band

[yohan]

hey it's not my fault they're a good band! I've loved them ever since 2011 and if you must know my favorite song is voodoo doll my favorite member is calum my second fav member is a tie between Michael and Luke

[404]

oh god please stop I don't need to hear more shit about this band

[yohan]

did you know I own both 5SOS5 and calm on cassette and I own every main album on cd, I also own the how did we end up here documentary on dvd

[404]

hey I heard you also like kpop isn't that right? I mean you don't have sunoo in your username for nothing

[yohan]

oh yeah I do like kpop! my older sister got me into it in 2016 the first song other than gangnam style that I heard from the genre was stop stop it by got7 and they actually became the first kpop group I ended up stanning. I remember listening to the identify album on loop so much that I think I know every song front to back, and if you want to know my favorite kpop song of all time is Russian roulette by red velvet my favorite girl group, my favorite boy by the way group is enhypen stanning them since watching I-land which was so traumatic by the way made me cry at the end and hearing into the I-land still makes me tear up a little

[404]

ok hearing you talk about kpop is just as worse as hearing you talk about 5sos… who knew you had all that shit to ramble on about

[yohan]

and I'm not even done with 5sos. I own livesos and the feeling of falling upwards on cd as well, I also have the she looks so perfect ep on cd and hope to get the don't stop ep on cd at some point because try hard is too good not to have on physical media

[404]

enough about those Australian men! god one more word about 5sos and I might block you

[yohan]

oh well then I guess I can talk about idk how I like yo-kai watch? If there's even still a fandom for that or how about beyblade! The x series just came out and I'm so happy the beys are made by tomy because I'm sorry some hasbro beys suck ass

[404]

not your dead fandom interests anything but that! your basically purposely talking to a brick wall at this point

[yohan]

excuse you! beyblade still has a pretty decent community just go look up beyblade on YouTube right now and you'll find countless YouTubers who base themselves on beyblades and still upload to this day!

[404]

ok maybe beyblades aren't as much of a dead fandom as I thought but still there's not gonna be one reading this now you know

[yohan]

well then I'll talk about monster high! and how I currently own ten g3 dolls and how I want to own g1 dolls eventually

[404]

I honestly forgot monster high got brought back

[yohan]

yeah and it's doing pretty well wouldn't say amazing but well enough to make Mattel want to make more g3 dolls

[404]

why'd you sent me this sonic post? you know I don't have a clue about sonic the hedgehog and it's weird lore

[yohan]

shadow reminds me of you

[404]

I don't know if I should take that as a compliment or an insult

[yohan]

it was definitely a compliment

[404]

skeptical but ok…

[yohan]

now that you mention video games with lore I couldn't help but bring up kingdom hearts!! I only have amazing things to say about that series

[404]

ok I will not lie kingdom hearts is a great series and the story is very interesting

[yohan]

oh my god I almost forgot about fnaf!!

[404]

let's save all the fnaf talk for when the second movie comes out

[yohan]

have I mentioned Sanrio yet and how my favorite character is pompompurin?

[404]

you have now

[yohan]

do they know my favorite Disney movie is big hero 6?

[404]

again they know now…

[yohan]

do they know my favorite aesthetic is frutiger aero? and that I based my carrd off of it?

[404]

they do now!

[yohan]

oh I know for sure they don't know my favorite fruit is a strawberry and how I live for strawberry milk

[404]

I don't know how you can drink and eat strawberries all the time without getting sick of it

[yohan]

I'm surprised my body hasn't tried to reject it yet from how much I consumed strawberries

[404]

what's your favorite flower?

[yohan]

cherry blossoms!! I even made a mini Lego cherry blossom bonsai tree

[404]

don't you play splatoon?

[yohan]

yup! I even own the limited edition splatoon 3 switch oled model

[404]

rich motherfucker…

[yohan]

says the one who just bought themselves the iPhone 16 even though their iPhone 15 worked just fine but they needed the new one

[404]

the colors of the 16 looked cute! stop hating loser

[yohan]

whatever you say

[404]

anything you want to close out this chat room with?

[yohan]

I hope whoever reads this is having a good day know your loved and respected and if anyone treats you badly know you have a home right here with us <3

[404]

come visit us anytime ~

[yohan]

peace out!

[user : 404 has logged out]

[user: yohan has logged out]

chat room is now closed !

[ghostingcrows]

Like it or not Keath doesn't get to control what other people think about their characters/what art gets made.

They chose to display these things publicly. The only thing they have a right to ask is that the people who draw/write the things they don't like won't send their work to them/tag them in it/that it'll be tagged appropriately so they can filter and block as needed.

They don't get to go full Anne Rice like they did on Twitter and ask people to actually police each other's work and report it to get copyright striked (which btw they have no legal right to do bc fanworks are transformative and fall under fair use).

If they weren't prepared to enforce their boundaries reasonably and legally then they shouldn't have put themselves in the public eye this way.

The fact remains that their discomfort is valid but censorship isn't. Any reaction they have to their emotions has to happen within legal boundaries (not trying to enforce a law that doesn't apply here to avoid potentially seeing something they'll find upsetting) and reasonable expectations.

I mean how are you going to ask thousands of people you don't know not to do something just because if you see it you'll be upset? Where does that end? Do people get to ask e/o not to wear clothes they find upsetting to look at or eat food they find gross in public or can we all admit this is kind of not how being a person works? Learn to curate your own experience and avoid things you don't want to see instead of expecting everyone around you to take responsibility for your emotions. You're not a toddler, Keath, you're a fucking adult and you need to act like it.

I mean I really really hate foot fetishes but I wouldn't try to get them scrubbed from the internet if people made them with my characters- in fact I've accepted that this has almost certainly happened already, and I'd just remember that block buttons were invented for exactly this reason.

Oh and before you even start on the assumptions:

- I haven't even seen the art they're complaining about and probably wouldn't like it myself

- The Chappell thing is another matter entirely and idk why you thought they belonged in the same post/are at all related issues. One is about a woman wanting the freedom to go out in public without being physically assaulted or harassed. The other is about a grown adult getting mad that they willingly posted something publicly in an internet they have presumably known things about already and as a result can't control who sees it or how they react. I mean ffs Keath can eliminate this whole problem by turning off their computer/phone/whatever and whatever they were upset about is gone. Chappell is having psychos call her parents and sexually assault her in public. What sane person thinks those are comparable?

Good lord-

Alright first off I included Chappell Roan because I was specifically thinking about people complaining about her cancelling her appearance at the music festival and being absolute assholes to her despite the fact she doesn't have to perform or share her art with us especially not when we are being assholes

Also

Don't fucking mansplain womens freedom to exist in public to me I am very much AFAB and have been harassed both verbally and physically in school and in public since I was in elementary school

And with Yaelokre

Thats not what censorship is you chronically online fuck stick

Yaelokre making the simple request that people treat them and their creations, which again are a PRIVILEGE for us to see and engage with ourselves, with a bare level minimum of respect is not fucking censorship

Yaelokre is not the fucking government and as you said they can't enforce it beyond blocking people

But they are still allowed to request people not be weird about it and be upset by people making absolutely horrible gross jokes about assaulting their characters

I'm not entirely sure when we decided that saying shit like that was normal and okay and not an absolutely bat shit insane thing to say to ANYONE much less someone you don't know but it IS

[sysshitig]

no dni just stances

-while I am not against dnis (helps me prepare for the blog ahead) I think we should all acknowledge that they need more elaboration, because putting a discourse stance next to "dni racists" can come off as saying they're on the same level esp if you're just saying dni because it makes you uncomfortable (I know they aren't but do you?) which is why I have a stances instead of dni.

-don't know what pro recovery or anti recovery means but I do believe when it comes to someone elses mental health issues all we can do is take their words for it especially online when you don't know them that well, and I do believe you can find joy in your mental health issues. It's at the end of the day up the to the person suffering from it and their therapist to decide how it's handled end of story. If you don't want to "encourage a delusion" than just block them. They know how it affects them best, you are a stranger on the internet.

-Pro Endo and not willing to engage in syscourse (on this blog at least) because it's just petty at this point. If I want to talk about the syspunk tag or whatever we're arguing over now I'll bring it up first. (We're ok with anti endos interacting but if you start shit you'll get blocked, end of story)

-I believe that everyone is allowed to make jokes about their mental health (if the joke isn't going to make it worse) shit like "adhd moment" and "haha autism" isn't going to hurt anyone but people who are not adhd or autistic making fun of adhd and autism is. Joking about it can help ease the pain of it all and clapping back with "just wait till you've suffered like I have" isn't helping? Yes they are suffering that's why they're making these jokes. To cope with their suffering.

-I don't believe the media you consume defines you just how you consume it.

-queer discourse is weird, chat we're all supposed to be in this together right? Because together ape strong right chat??? RIGHT??? (for clarification: straight Alloaces Ily, straight Aroallos Ily, lesboys ily, I don't think anyone outside of internet spaces cares that much nor will this hurt anyone)

-I consider myself Alterhuman and I am an alterhuman friendly space

additional

-please ask me to trigger tag I'm not good at it but I can try

-blog may contain unreality and etc proceed with caution.

-I use tone tags and don't see the harm in them but will prefer to use stuff like this: (serious) (joking) around strangers, cause I can understand how they can be confusing and having to learn them can be a chore, but the concept is overall good and if you're against the concept in general I can't help you.

-I believe in a free palestine and will try and reblog fundraisers and such, please correct me if I get anything wrong.

-We consider ourselves a system and you have no right to know if we have trauma or not as a stranger on the internet end of story.

SYSMATES SIDEBLOGS

-main blog: @notarobotsadly

-Willaim: @scottjustletmedie

-Sun: @mikumikuyoucancallm3miku

-Malhare: @malharevrthepcport

-Jevil: @thedungeonv2

all of them are under construction btw.