#when i get the hell out of here he's gonna have the ugliest fucking apartment known to man the dishes will never be done

[flying-cat]

"why don't you ever do the dishes" (standing on my hurt feet after working all day and it's 6pm) well why the fuck didn't YOU do the dishes during the EIGHT FUCKING HOURS i was at work instead of sitting on your ass in your shit stained tighty whities you OLD FUCK

[sl33py-day]

Imposter AU with a twist Part 2!

Tw: Swearing, a bit of yandere Albedo, Your friend is a horrible person and gets slapped on the face with some Karma and Trauma.

A/n: I didn’t want to keep saying ‘Your friend’ so I named her Bethany and Beth. Also I feel like this blog is more of a crackfic blog since there’s barely any serious writing. But hey it’s fun to write. Someone wanted it and I hope I met the expectations

Day’s and weeks and a single month has passed since you descended to Teyvat from the bottomless pits of hell. People are still after your head, the pick me imposter still has not been visited by Karma, and you got a yandere, kinda. I’m saying kinda because Albedo is possessive of you and that’s all…..for now.

During the month of being in Minecraft survival mode some more characters believed you’re the OG creator. That and they just can’t handle your friend, who I shall name Bethany. Sorry to all Bethany’s but Imma steal your name real quick.

Diluc is a good example of not handling Bethany. He has told you that she would cry when a man, his brother and five other men, don’t pay attention to her. She would tell Childe to get her the most expensive gift and throw it away afterwards. He finds her annoying and one point he told you “If I had to choose between Kaeya and….the girl. I would choose Kaeya right away. That’s how annoying she is.”

Now here comes the fun part of this AU. The finding out that the imposter is the OG creator. Like I said the last part Karma is gonna slap her face sooner and later, well Karma not only slapped her but gave her the ultimate shoe slap, with a boot and high heel.

In the Imposter AU the only thing to tell from Imposter and Real apart was the golden child blood test thingy. There is one way where I feel like would be more funny and that is the ‘accident’ way.

The accident way is probably the most funniest way of people finding out that they fucked up. Imagine this, Your walking back to where ever the failed experiment is to give him the flowers he needed. But along the way your arm got scratched by a random branch. This y/n is clumsy they bump into things a lot and whenever they do they just rub off the pain until they or someone else tells them that they’re bleeding. So back to the branch thing, you got scratched by the lonely piece of wood and kept walking. Only to cross a certain traveler and they’re somehow flying food.

They cross paths, Aether doesn’t bother looking and has a place to be. Paimon on the other hand saw the gold shimmering blood and was like “Wait a MINUTE!”

“You there! Paimon has a very serious question!” Paimon yelled out but you kept on walking ignoring her as if she’s a ghost. That was until paimon told Aether and Aether is now chasing after you. Like I know I need my daily dose of adrenaline but why it gotta be like this?

While running Aether was yelling and Venti being the little shit he is heard it in the wind. Don’t ask me how that makes sense he’s the god of air. Now venti is in front of you and let’s skip a hour or two after.

Scratch that make one hour turn into 3 hours of no stop arguing. Not between you and the worshipers or overly simps but between you and Bethany.

Bethany Heard that people found you and wanted to see you uh turn the bye bye life light on. So she came in the most ugliest dress ever in the mind of y/n.

While being surrounded by the archons as they looked at you with disgust. You were on the ground with a sword against your neck. The archons believe that you put gold glitter on your arm to get the chance of stealing their graces spot? Does glitter even exist in Tevyat?

“You go to such lengths to steal our graces spotlight?!” Yelled Zhongli still having the pole arm against your neck. You are just sitting there on the floor slightly terrified because my god scary archons are more scarier then your mom.

“Sir, I didn’t even have a choice to look like that Beth Meth girl. It’s called Genes. GEN-NET-ICS.” You called out making everyone yell out insults. All of a sudden Bethany comes walking down as the people spread out like the sea. Everyone bowed and said praises.

“You really wearing that dress? It looks like something that Carella Deville would wear and honey that’s not necessarily a good thing” and that sent the lighter to the bomb.

“Well at least I have more things then you do. I would have an entire world after you are dead.” Beth’s sassy ass said as everyone is just wondering if you two know each other. Not only are you two fighting but Diluc and Aether are having to hold back Albedo so he doesn’t do….bad things.

Back to Beth with the meth fighting match. The light you started finally reached the bomb having Bethany spill everything she has done, on earth and Teyvat out loud. My god she did more stuff than you thought.

“You are always in the fucking way! Nothing I do to you ever works! I had to take money from you so your parents would hate you so you would feel shitty because of them. I spread rumors of you so people hated you. Hell I even practiced make up so people would believe you hit me!”

That’s not even the tip of the ice burg and yet many many people are in a state of shock that they are frozen in place. Oh and albedo? Ya Diluc and Aether are having a struggle. With the bomb being set off nothing is stopping Bethany to say anything and everything she has done to you. What are you doing? Letting her scream and yell since Karma is coming closer and closer.

“Then when I was Teleported here people said I was a god! They treated me better than you! I got the attention I wanted! No one was gonna try and steal the spotlight if they did I would just send someone to kill them. I have men at my fingertips so if someone insulted me or I found the person annoying I would send them to kill the person. Easy Peasy just make up a reason and they’ll do it.”

After she said that many people gasped and a few people yelled “Is that why my son/daughter went missing/were found dead?!” Yeah what a shocker now. The once looked up god is now the imposter and committed more crimes then the Fatui. She was about to say more but you stopped her.

“You did all that? Dear you’re worse than the American government and the Fatui combined. I’ll tell you why people were nice to me and not you.” You stood up with you hands behind your back. No one stopped you they wanted to see what would happen. “I’m genuinely nice to people and they do it back but some don’t. Take yourself for example, I was nice to you. I checked up on you everyday to make sure you where ok but you did all this instead.”

Bethany’s face was more redder then Diluc and a tomato together. She was furious that you came an ruined everything. She started to shout nonsense as you backed away slowly. She didn’t notice so she kept throwing insults after insults while you were all the way in the back with albedo.

Some hydro slimes and cryo slimes were walking around her as they were just doing Slime things. But one electro slime made a mistake of walking in front of her and, by accident or not, zapping her feet slightly. She let out a screech and hopped from one foot to another. Since the hydro slimes were walking around her they made the ground slightly wet. Thanks to the cryo slimes they made the slightly wet ground icy and slippery.

So while she was hopping she slipped on the ice. Fortunately or unfortunately you guys were by a cliff of some sort. I think you know what happened, she fell down but survived as the cliff wasn’t that high. So yay?

After she fell you stood there for a few minutes before saying “Ah, Karma did give her a punch in the face after all……But that seemed planed.” You looked at the slimes with a suspicious face. The hydro slime just turned around and walked away while the electro slime was like “oh this Leaf on the floor is so interesting wow” what is the cryo slime doing? Looking over the cliff where Bethany feel almost mocking her. “Haha bish you slipped” is what the cryo slime is probably thinking.

[remingtonisleithal]

Feel better

Remington leith x female!reader

Warnings: does swearing and possibly bad writing count?

Summary: reader was feeling down, and Remington takes her on an adventure to feel better, attempted fluff

@smiling-girl thank you again for the request :) hope this works!

It had been a few days since you answered your phone, too upset to respond to the calls of humanity. You'd been falling deeper down lately, struggling to be happy as things fell apart around you. Luckily for you there was a knight in shining armour; or more accurately, eyeliner and a hoodie. Remington missed your texts and calls, he knew how bad you were feeling, and he would not let the girl of his dreams suffer any longer. He arrived in full force, charging at the door to your apartment (thanking God it was unlocked) and yelling your name until he found you on the floor of the kitchen, crying.

"Oh baby," was all he said before rushing over to join you. He put an arm around you and held you tight to him, hoping that if he pulled you closer his love for you would chase your dark clouds away.

"Talk to me, what's wrong?"

"I... i don't wanna get into it. It's all just been to much lately and-" you took a deep breath and let out a sigh. He looked at you with a sad smile.

He lent forward and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before pulling his sleeves over his hands a wiping away your tears.

"It'll be OK." a pause "How about we forget about our problems for the night, hm? I say we go for an adventure." He stood up and held out his hand

You giggled. "Yeah, sure, I'll just leave the house like this, tear stained pants and a smelly hoodie. It'll be fine."

"OK then, how about you have a quick shower, then we can do anything you want."

He pulled you up from the floor and led you to the bathroom.

“Do I have to? It's safe here.” you complained.

“C'mon, it's just a little shower. You'll feel better afterwards baby.” his eyes and voice convinced you.

In record time of fifteen minutes, you had a shower, brushed your hair and got changed to go out. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself that things will be OK, even if it hurts. And you walked out the door hand in hand with your boyfriend.

***

“OK, OK, but what about this? I feel like I'd look really good in this” Remington said, holding up the ugliest skirt and jacket you had ever seen. The two of you had been trying on clothes (much to the dismay of the sales assistant) for at least an hour in the massive department store full of things you knew you couldn't afford. You tried on outfit after outfit, making sure to put things back where you found them so you didn't get kicked out of the shop, and you took a million photos.

“What about this?” He held up a red lingerie set. “Not for you, for me. I would look fucking hot in this.”

“Ah yes, but that's not your size.”

“True, true. Shall we ask if they have any in the back?” you erupted into a fit of giggles, making Remington loose it too, until you were on the floor in a pile laughing so hard you were crying, ignoring the face of a lady who passed you.

“OH!” you yelled, and he turned to look at you so fast he got dizzy. “THIS! Look at how beautiful this dress is!” you were in awe at this amazing dress, and instantly ran to try it and the other clothes in your arms on.

You loved the dress... until you saw the price tag.

“Yeesh,” you mumbled “maybe we should go to a different store?” you called to Remington over the change room stall.

“Good plan.”

You opened the door and you cracked up laughing. Your boyfriend was wearing the most ridiculous straw hat on, a yellow flannel and a green scarf. A horrendous combination made even better by the multiple pairs of glasses on his face. You had to lean on the door to stop yourself from falling, knees weak from laughter.

Remington on the other hand just watched you in adoration. The way the black dress clung to your hips, the way your eyes scrunched shut in joy, the sound of your laughter. Every inch of you was perfect.

The moment passed and you left the store with a new necklace he saw you watching wistfully and a smile you had forgotten about.

“That was so fun. Thanks, Remi.” You told him.

“Was? Oh, no no no, it's not over yet sweetheart.” He said with a smirk that made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

With that he grabbed your hand and started to run, and you laughed out of a mix of joy and fear of tripping over. Winding down cement paths and through a few alleys for speed, you arrived at the train station within minutes, puffing, out of breath, and collapsing to the ground for all of a moment before a train arrived, Remington pulling you onto it.

“Where are we going?” you asked him, once you caught your breath.

“Surprise.” he said with a shrug.

***

You stood outside a hot chip shop, waiting for the man to yell your order number so you could try 'world's best burger and fries', as Remington told you. The two of you wandered aimlessly away from and into each other, tracing the lines of the cement blocks on the street. The sun was almost gone, leaving a dark yet vibrant blue across the sky, orange-tinged streetlamps lighting the scene, and a cool breeze drifting the scent of hot chips out across the empty street.

Remington held both your hands, tugging this way and that, tracing the your hands with his thumbs. He looked at you, and a smile fell onto his lips.

“You really are beautiful, you know that?” he asked you, making you blush and turn away. “Really, you're perfect. I-” he was interrupted by the man yelling for you both to collect your order. You looked back at Remington, waiting for your boyfriend to say 'I love you' for the first time, but he just smiled and pulled you closer for a quick kiss before walking over to take the bag of food, hand never leaving yours.

“Just one more destination.” he told you.

***

The park was small, with a few tall trees, a set of swings and a small structure the two of you got stuck in and had to pull each other out, laughing like you were five years old again. You sat on the cold grass and ate chips and burgers, and were in heaven. The burgers really were as good as promised, and the man beside you made everything infinitely better.

“You know, I feel like we're ignoring the swings too much.” You said, jumping up and pulling Remington over to them.

He stopped and look at them, eye brows furrowed, nodding to himself.

“Rem? Remi? Whatcha thinking?” You asked, concerned, knowing where this was going.

“I think I can climb this.”

“No.”

“Really, if I just-”

“No.”

Silence.

“Stop me.” He cried, up on the structure in record time, and hanging upside.

“HAHA I KNEW IT!” He yelled, struggling to laugh. You just sighed and shook your head, trying to hide your smile.

“Aw, come on. You had to know I was gonna do that.”

“OK, OK fine. But maybe I wanted you to do that.” You countered.

“Oh really? What for.?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“To spiderman kiss maybe?” You walked up to him, to give him a soft kiss, but laughed as the heights were all wrong and he was at a weird angle.

Jumping down he walked up to you without slowing down, and mumbled “Is this better?” before kissing you with passion. Time stopped once again as you created a world of your own. Moments, minutes or life times later, you pulled away to catch your breath.

“Race you to the tree.”

“What?”

“Race you to the tree!” Remington yelled again, and you bolted after him.

Climbing a tree at night in a park you'd never been to was not your brightest idea, but hell was it a fun one. You climbed at high as you could, making sure the branch was thick enough for both you and your boyfriend. Once you got settled, you next to the tree trunk, Remington on your left, you shivered a little at the cold night air.

“Here, lemme help.” he said, taking off his leather jacket and placing it around you. It was warm and smelt like him, and you held it tight against you.

“Thank you.” you smiled at him.

“You know I love you, right Y/N?” he asked, vulnerability visible in his voice. You breath hitched as you looked the love of your life in the eyes.

“I love you, too.” You whispered, leaning in for another kiss.

What felt like hours past, and eventually you climbed down, Remington going first, so when you jumped down he caught your waist to lower you. You grabbed your bag and he put the rubbish in the bin. Smiling, you walked back to the station.

***

At the door to your apartment, Remington kiss you once more. He left his forehead against your, looking you in the eyes to ask you, “do you feel better now, my love?” and all you could do was smile, nod and hold him against you.

*lemme know if anyone wants a part 2 (with a lil' smut)* :D

[wooobuddyletsgetnasty]

Lets gets some domestic hawks with nsfw

I am in LOVE with Hawks. Who had to go and make this mans so pretty??? Like excuse the FUCK out of me. Anywaysssss, I hope u like themmmmm !!

~My mans is a mess™

~But he is the CUTEST mess

~First off, Keigo didn’t ask you to move in with him

~You don’t think you even asked to move in with him either???

~You slowly just migrated into his apartment, and then you just stayed??

~He isn’t going to complain, he likes having someone to come home to 

~He will bring you flowers if you are mad at him 

~Are they crumpled, and possibly the ugliest flowers you have ever seen? 

~Yes, absolutely 

~But you kiss him, and put them in a vase anyways because at least he tried 

~FEATHERS EVERYWHERE 

~I headcanon that he goes through the thing where his feathers start to fall out (moulting??? mayybbeee)

~Either way, they get EVERYWHERE

~You gladly help him brush his wings out, and then clean up the feathers 

~He’s so grateful that you don’t think it’s gross, and are willing to help him when it’s happening 

~While we are on the topic of this, it will almost ALWAYS lead to him fucking you slowly on the couch

~His wings are sensitive, and you’re over there running your fingers over them and he’s weak for you anyways 

~The combined motion of your fingers trailing over him, and the look of concentration on your face 

~He can’t help himself, and he’s got you face down on the couch quicker than you can register what is happening 

~The type of man that will beg for your attention

~ “You’re going to be late Hawks.” 

~ “Well I know that already, so how about just one more kiss? I mean if I am already late, I might as well be really late. Please?”

~YOU BETTER GIVE THAT MANS ANOTHER KISS 

~Will also drag you onto the couch with him if you are just walking past, he’s gotta have you in his arms

~ITS WHERE YOU BELONG

~Does he wrap his wings around you when you are cuddling? 

~Yes, he absolutely does 

~It’s near impossible to take a bath/shower with Keigo

~He will end up knocking you the FUCK out if he turns too fast 

~His wings are BIG

~And you’re either gonna be too cramped in the shower, or he’s gonna be laying very uncomfortably on them in the bath 

~Do you still try though? 

~Yeeesss

~ABANDONMENT ISSUES?????

~Please let him know if you aren’t gonna be home when he gets there, or he’s gonna panic

~He’s not controlling, but he does like to know where you are, and when you are going to be home 

~You always let him know, you learned your lesson the first time when you came home a little later than he did, and he yelled at you

~Then he looked like you kicked his puppy, so you ended up feeling bad

~You have to MAKE him sit and talk to you 

~He’s not the best at communication, but if you want this relationship to work, you have to talk to him 

~Keigo is not the best housekeeper, and he’s gone a lot so you take it upon yourself to make sure the place is clean for him

~He appreciates it and it really does mean the world to him 

~HE KISSES YOU BEFORE HE LEAVES EVERY MORNING

~Even if you aren’t awake

~Just a sweet lil smooch and then a, “I’ll see you later, birdie. I love you.”

~Okay so now who is ready for some NSFW??????

~HELL YEAH

~This man has a high sex drive

~So you might as well just throw out all your pants 

~I don’t make the rules 

~You made dinner?? That’s so sweet! He’ll eat with you, but he wants to eat you first

~On the kitchen table???

~Yes

~The couch??

~Multiple times

~In the floor??

~Sure, just let him spread out a blanket first 

~In the shower?

~You’ve tried, it wasn’t very sexy when you got a mouth full of feather and then spat water into his face

~He thought it was hilarious though

~Gonna throw this out here too

~Keigo’s favorite way to take you is with you pressed face first against the wall

~He can get an amazing angle like that, and he can mutter nasty shit into the nape of your neck

~Basically, living with Hawks is like adopting a full grown toddler-man

~But he’s yours now

~Birds mate for life

~Good luck getting rid of him now

~12/10

~I love him 

[your-eternal-muse]

Kinda Wish She Were Dead

Heather Series Part 8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Bonus! Readers Card Confession Series Playlist 

Summery: During a night out on the town with the girls, Reader see’s something she wasn’t supposed to.

Words: 3.7k (my longest yet!)

Warnings: Swearing, a few sexual innuendos, Cheating, Mentions of Alcohol, and a fabulous right hook.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Heather Carmichael, Spencer Reid x eventual Female!Reader 

A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one....turn it up! Also, the song that inspired this chapter. For the meaning of the song, not that fucking boat scene.

~~~~

It’s hot.

Like “laying naked in the middle of your apartment with the air cranked and every fan blowing on you” hot.

I’m one of the lucky ones.

My old apartment was renovated to include central air a few years before I moved in.

Still, the humidity was smothering.

So why was I putting a full face of makeup on, knowing damn well I’m gonna sweat it off before the end of the night?

Because why the hell not?

It’s the first time I’ve made plans with the girls in months, and I deserve to feel pretty, even if only for an hour or two.

My therapist tells me I’m making progress.

And it finally feels like I am.

I don’t hate the day before it even starts when I wake up.

I hardly close my curtains anymore.

I’d like to say that with her help, everything went back to normal.

I go to work and come home. I hang out with my friends, water my potted plants. Talk to Spencer like I never confessed my love for him.

But it didn’t.

I haven’t really spoken to Spencer since the day I left.

I’ve wanted to.

I’ve wanted to tell him that I’m here. I’m still here. That I’m always going to be here.

That I care about him more than probably life itself.

Ever since I came back, we’ve had to work together, and we’ve had a few small conversations, but nothing like what we used to have.

I crave those conversations.

How we would bounce back and forth from idea to idea, topic to topic without so much as breaking a sweat.

The late night conversations about the probability of aliens, and life on the opposite side of the universe.

I crave him, and the intimacy he brought.

Lately though, he’s been coming to work with a sullen look on his face.

He shows up earlier, and stays later, drowning himself in his paperwork.

When her calls interrupt a caseload, he no longer eagerly picks up to hear what she has to say.

All I want to do is walk over and ask him how he’s doing. How the married life is treating him. If there’s anything I can do to help lift his spirits.

But I can’t.

I’d be overstepping a boundary I didn’t even know I created that night out on the balcony.

Knocking on my door snaps me out of my daze, and I quickly cap my lipstick, making my way towards my front door where my night stands, waiting.

JJ, Emily, and Penelope are waiting, big smiles and laughter bubbling from their lips.

I let the smile spread across my face.

“I just need to grab my shoes and then I’ll be ready.” I usher them into my hallway, running back to my bedroom to grab the pair of heels resting by my closet.

I sit on my bed, slipping them on with ease and grabbing my bag on my way out.

They all ooh and ahh when I step into the light of my kitchen, and JJ grabs my hand, twirling me in place so they can get a better look at my outfit.

“I almost forgot you had party attire, y/n.” 

“God, I wish I had an ass like that. I’m older than you. That’s not fair.” Emily says, landing a playful slap against the fabric of my skirt. 

“Oh stop it, you flatter me.” Once upon a time, the attention would have made me antsy. The voice in my head would whisper that they were lying to me, that they really thought I was the ugliest thing in existence. 

That was then, and this is now. Now the confidence shines off of me like a spotlight.

“You deserve to be flattered, you beautiful goddess you.” Penelope says, her hands waving in the air.

I take a look in the new mirror that hangs in my hallway, and I can’t help but agree. The tight black skirt accentuates my curves, the low cut golden crop top that sticks to me like another skin puts the girls on display, and my heels give me legs for days.

I look damn good.

“Okay okay okay, pre-game selfie!” Penelope grabs her phone and holds up in front of her while we gather around. 

She snaps the picture and within a few quick taps, a buzzing emits from my bag. 

I dig my phone out, seeing the picture pop up in my notifications. 

JJ has her arms wrapped around me, and I’m pressed to Penelope's side. Emily stands over us, one hand on JJ’s shoulder, the other on Penelopes. 

I don’t think I could fake a smile like the one on my face even if I wanted to. 

I save it to my phone.

~~~

If I thought being in my house, alone, with air conditioning was bad, then I shouldn't have even bothered coming out.

The bar, albeit small, was packed. 

Even if there was a breeze, or any airflow at all, the combined body heat of the crowd would have swallowed it up.

I couldn’t really bring it in me to care all that much, though.

The dim lights and heat left my skin with a sexy shine, bringing attention to all the right places. 

I could feel the eyes on me. 

The ones belonging to men wanting to drown their sorrows in a woman like me, one who appears vulnerable, willing to go along for the ride.

It’s been a while, since I’ve had the attention of the opposite gender, especially this very specific kind of attention.

It feels good, in a way. To be wanted so openly. But it doesn’t mean jack to me, not if it’s not the pair of eyes I’ve been desperate to catch.

I should stop thinking about him.

It’s a girls night out. I don’t have to think, or worry about anything. 

Besides, he’s probably busy doing other things. Thinking about me is the last thing on his mind.

I laugh and take a sip from the Shirley temple sitting in front of me, laughing as JJ recounts a story about will and a botched attempt at breakfast in bed.

I pick a cherry up from the fizzy drink, and bite the end off, relishing in the sweet flavor. I pop the stem in my mouth, twirling it around my tongue as I listen to the conversation, pulling it between my teeth and setting it down on the table in a knot.

“Oh my god. Did you just tie a cherry stem with your tongue?” Penelope is cheesing from the other side of the table, the bright pink straw of her margarita almost to her lips.

I laugh, holding it up for them to inspect. 

“You know what that means.” Emily says, taking a sip from her own drink, before continuing her thought. “You, my friend, can give great head.”

A blush covers my cheek, but I cock an eyebrow. “Who told you?”

The three women burst into high pitched laughter, and I see Pen pull out her phone. She holds it up to me. 

“Do it again. The internet needs to be blessed with this knowledge.”

I chuckle again, the spirit of the night enough to get me drunk off the energy. I grab another cherry from my drink, sucking the end into my mouth before popping it off, and swallowing it. 

“Alright, we have one, untied cherry stem before us.” I hold out the stem for the camera to see. “Now watch as I tie it with no hands.”  I stick out my tongue, placing it in the middle before closing my mouth. 

I rest my elbows on the table, working my tongue around the stem, forcing it into submission to do exactly what I want. 

Within 15 seconds, I pull it through my teeth, and hold up a tied cherry stem. 

“Ta-da! Magic.” I place it on the table as they clap, smiles wide and goofy from their own alcoholic concoctions. 

“She’s single people. And there’s a line forming so shoot your shot.” JJ is the one to speak to the camera, and I giggle, taking another sip. 

Penelope brings her phone down, and within a minute my phone buzzes again, this time with the notification of the video being posted. 

There are worse things to be posted on the internet about me.

“I never knew you could do that, y/n/n.” Pen says, taking a sip from her drink. 

I run a hand through my hair, shrugging. “Didn’t think I needed to put it on my resume. It’s mostly a party trick I use when I like someone. I haven’t used it in years though.”

The unspoken question lingers on the air. 

“No, I never showed Spencer. But I’m sure it’d blow his mind. The way that man applies math and logic to everything he does just solidifies the fact that I know he wouldn’t be able to do it.”

It’s been a while since I’ve joked about him openly, but it wasn’t forced. It didn’t hurt. 

It was just a natural statement.

“Have you guys noticed that something’s up with him? He seems distant lately.” JJ says, leaning in closer so she doesn’t have to talk over the crowd. 

“Okay, so it’s not just me.” I reply, playing with the straw in my drink.

“It’s gotta be something at home. I mean, he doesn’t even remotely act the way that he did when him and Heather first got together.” Emily's eyes look me up and down, reading my body language, but I’m done hiding. 

I let the building anger ripple through me.

“He seems...sad. And not like, normal Reid sad where it has to do with his mom or something, no this is like..” she stops herself from continuing the sentence.

I finish it for her. “It’s like, me, sad.”

JJ sighs. “I hate to say it, but do you think it has anything to do with Heather?”

A glass shatters across the room, and like the red sea, the crowd parts.

Everything happens in no more than a couple seconds, but it feels like a lifetime. 

Through the empty space, I see two people standing at the bar. The woman has her hands wound into the man's shirt, her body turned as she laughs at someone behind her, I’m assuming the one who dropped the glass. 

The man has his hands gripped on her hips, smiling into her hair, before she turns back around, connecting their lips in the most disgusting kiss I have had the displeasure of witnessing.

The rage builds swiftly in my stomach and it pulses from my soul outward. The world’s tint changes and I see red.

“Even if it doesn’t right now, it will.” 

When the hell did I stand up?

They stand with me, and I’m about to argue my point when Emily speaks. “You want something to record, Garcia?” She moves by me, fixing my hair, handing me her glass which holds a swig of her drink left. “Record this.” 

I take it, downing it for a little liquid luck, and start for the bar, the three of them on my heels.

I profile him as best I can in the 20 seconds it takes to get through the now reforming crowd. 

There’s a gold ring on his hand. His pants and shirt are dirty, and his boots are thick. He works in something having to do with construction, which means he’s probably done around 5 every night, and I know for a fact that it is way past that.

I walk up to them, grabbing her shoulder and pulling them apart, stepping in between them, getting face to face to him.

“Before you even think about laying a hand on me, my name is SSA Y/L/N of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the F.B.I. From the look of your clothes and the ring on your finger, I’m gonna go ahead and assume that your wife is waiting for you at home.” 

His hand instinctively falls to his back pocket.

“And since you just reached for what I’m assuming is your phone, she’s called you multiple times tonight. She knows. Now, fuck off and maybe you can salvage things with her, but believe me when I say this,” His breath smells sour. “You aren’t even half the man that she’s married to.” 

He opens his mouth to say something, looking from me, to Heather, to the three women surrounding her, keeping her from leaving, and the camera pointed directly at his face.

He looks back down to me, and huffs, stepping back and walking in the other direction.

For a moment, I stare at where he stood. 

And then a fire ignites in my stomach and it takes everything in me to not beat the girl standing behind me.

I turn, and lightning strikes behind her eyes. 

“You’re not gonna tell him.”

“Like hell I’m not!” I take a step forward, and she takes one back, bumping into Emily who has her arms crossed, and her shoulders raised. “You know, I tried so hard to give you the benefit of the doubt, Heather. You made him happy and I honestly thought you loved him, but I realize now that he deserves someone so much better than you.” 

“Oh what, someone like you?” She’s snide, her demeanor defensive and cocky at the same time. She thinks she’s gonna come out on top of this.

“You know what? Yes. Someone like me. Someone who wouldn’t even think about doing this to him, because the amount of pain that he is about to go through doesn’t even come close to the stupid fucking reward. Oh, so you slept with some douchebag because what? You’re not getting enough attention?” The words are cathartic, leaving my belly with the venom that has been brewing there for the past 2 and half years.

“I found your letter. I was right about you.”

That would have stopped me in my tracks 6 months ago. Now I don’t even flinch.

“Oh honey, it’s not a fucking secret anymore. You want to hear me say it? I love him. I am in love with Spencer fucking Reid, and the only reason that he is with you, is because I was a decent human being and could see that you made him happy, so I kept my mouth shut. But I don’t care anymore. I don’t give a flying fuck what happens now, because whatever it is, it has to be better than being with a lying, cheating bitch like you.”

“You think he’s gonna run to you? Is that what you’re hoping for? He’s not gonna believe you. And even if he did, I’d turn on the water works and make him believe it was just this one time.”

She doesn’t know she’s being filmed. 

I turn to the bartender. “Excuse me, is she a regular here?”

The bartender smirks, wiping down the wood. “Yep. She comes in at least a couple times a week with that dude you kicked to the curb. They almost always leave together.”

Heather scoffs, crossing her arms. “Again, he’ll never believe you.” 

“You sure about that hot stuff?” Penelope steps forward, shoving the camera in her face. “Smile for the camera.”

Heather's eyes go wide, before turning to me. “You wouldn’t dare.” 

“I would do it for a fucking corn chip.” 

I place my hands on my hips, getting so close to her our noses almost touch. My voice is dangerously low when I speak. “Either you tell him everything or I will. And trust me. I have my ways of finding out if you did.”

I step back, wishing the daggers in my eyes could inflict actual pain, as I turn to walk away. 

I hear her shout in frustration before I feel her hands on my back, pushing me forward into the mass of people. 

A couple people unaware of the confrontation help me back up with a smile, thinking I’ve just drunkenly tripped over myself.

Emily and JJ each hold one of my arms, making sure I’m stable, while Penelope keeps filming a look of shock on her face.

A wicked smile forms on my face.

I was hoping she’d do something like that.

I turn and my fist connects with her face, a nice cracking noise satisfying the lust building in my chest, as a thin coat of blood covers my knuckles. 

Though, it’s not my blood. 

She’s holding her nose in pain as she falls to the floor, taking down a bar stool with her, and I swear I see the bartender laugh.

I grab a napkin off the bar, wiping my knuckles before throwing it on the floor by her feet. 

“C’mon girls. The night is still young.” 

I see them cover their own smiles with their hands, and Penelope starts to giggle the shock away. 

I know I should feel bad. It was unprofessional of me. 

But she shoved me first. 

It is, legally, self-defense. 

Is it sick that I wish she would have punched me?

It doesn’t matter anyway. I know she won’t press charges. She’s smart enough to know she just dug her grave.

And now she has to lie in it.

~~~~

The atmosphere is different when I walk into the office the next morning. 

It’s tense. 

And one look from JJ and an inhale of air tells me why. 

Spencer’s here. 

I barely have time to set my bag down on my desk, before he grabs me suddenly by the arm, dragging me into a nearby conference room.

The anger is rolling off of him in waves, and I can see by the way he clenches and unclenches his fists, he is pissed.

He almost throws me into the room, slamming the door behind him. 

“You want to tell me why the fuck you punched Heather in the face for no damn reason?”

Stupid, stupid girl. 

Did she not think, that the way I would find out, would be from Spencer himself?

I can’t help but shake my head and laugh. “She didn’t tell you.”

“She told me that she was having a drink with a girlfriend of hers when you came up drunk, yelling at her, until you just punched her. Can you explain that to me?”

He’s finally yelling at me. After months of begging for him to yell at me, he finally is. 

It doesn’t feel as good as I had hoped it would.

I don’t say anything, just pull out my phone to find the video that Garcia sent me.

“Are you serious right now, Y/N? Put your fucking phone down and explain to me why you broke my wife's nose!”

I sit in a chair, setting the phone on the table and sliding it towards him. I lean back and cross my hands over my stomach.

“Watch the video, Spencer.”

“Why? Why should I listen to anything you tell me?”

I lean forward, onto my elbow, annunciating every syllable. “Watch the damn video.”

He stands, and I watch as he fights with himself, before huffing in defeat, sitting in a chair and pulling my phone towards him.

He presses play.

I watch as his anger flows away with each passing second, despair taking its place. 

This is what I wasn’t looking forward to. Seeing him see it for the first time.

Watching him break. 

It wasn’t pretty.

I watch as tears form in his eyes and silently drop down his cheeks. 

He clenches his jaw as he watches her shove me, and the punch that followed. 

The room is dead quite when the video ends.

I’m the one who speaks first, my voice soft. 

“I punched her, because she had the audacity to do this. She had the audacity to hurt you, and flaunt that fact publicly.” 

I swallow, taking a breath before speaking. 

“I meant everything I said in that video, Spence.” 

He looks up at the nickname, his anger no longer directed at me.

“She hurt you, and I saw red. I didn’t think about what I was doing, and frankly, I’m glad I didn’t. I don’t regret standing up for you. I never have, and I never will.”  I clasp my hands together, forcing myself to continue. 

“I love you Spencer. I don’t think that’s ever going to change. I’m going to have to live with you finding other people and falling in love, and I promise you, I will support you in that. But not with her. Not after that. You deserve so much better than a girl who thinks she can get away with this just because she’s pretty and jealous.”

He taps a couple things on my phone, before turning the screen off and sliding it back over to me. 

He stands. 

I don’t. I continue talking as he walks over to me.

“You mean everything to me, Spence. If I know you’re happy, truly happy, then I’m satisfied. I will defend you until the end of the universe comes. You are my best friend, and I love you. And I’m sorry I was never upfront about it before, but I am now.”

I look up at him as he stands in front of me. “I’m done hiding from you.”

He’s still for a moment. 

He reaches down and grabs my hands, pulling me up before he wraps his arms around my waist and buries himself into my neck. 

I pause, but only for a moment, before wrapping my arms around him and holding him tight against me. 

I can feel the wet spots on my neck as he cries, and his hands wind themselves into the fabric of my shirt.

When was the last time he was held like this?

I don’t count the time until he loosens his grip, stepping back from me and wiping his face. 

I would hold him until the end of time if he let me.

“Thank you.” He whispers, before moving towards the door. 

He opens it and walks out, and I grab my phone, running after him.

I stop in the doorway. 

“Hey!” 

He stops and turns, and the rest of the team is watching over their files. 

My heart is pounding, and I feel out of breath.

“I don’t have a choice,” I let him remember. “But I still choose you.”

A small smile flutters across his face, before he turns and walks away.

I look down at my phone.

Spence xp

[Video]

    Sent, 9:06 a.m.

Permanent Tag List: @criminalcow @pinkdiamond1016​ @eternityofaxiom​ @you-had-me-at-hello-dear​ @marvels-gurl​ @theamuz​ @write-from-the-heart​ @sungieeeeeee​ @mjloveskids666​ @chococereal @itzsoff​ @gia-kerks​ @doctorspencereid​ @imsuperawkward​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @itsmoony​ @cielo1984​ @heistmaster69​ @nevvvv​ @theseuscmander​ @complementaryvacuum​ @waywardswain​ @lindaze​ @urie-bowie-mercury​

Heather Tag List: @drsoftboyreid​ @racerparker​ @avaholcombe​ @rodgertayloroof @stephanieisgay330​ @swiftspaperings​ @rainsong01​ @darthseph​ @liaabsurd​ @tracyn910 @holypicklelightnickel​ @pianofirepirate​ @radtwinkie @madcrazy50​ @bweakmybonez​ @constantlywishingonstars​ @l0ve-0f-my-life​ @expressiodepressio @flannelpjpants​ @x-midnight-violets-x​ @kwyloz​ @todaynotseen @caitlin-f @mylovehes​ @spencerreidsimptime​ @yoongi-holland​ @vamp-army​ @realimbo​ @stardream14 @magicbeanssss​ @jessaminelovelace​ @darthvadersturd​ @nikkilikewhoa @mellifluouswildbluebells​ @lex-rodgers-sheild @crist1216​ @voguekristens @doctorspencrreid​ @girlwithcrocs​ @harryscherrymoon​ @cherriesnwatermelons​ @heyitssomegirl101​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ @colorfulsunflowerx​ @falcon-arrows​ @hereforbeebo​ @legallyplatinumblonde​ @thatsonezesty13​

[slitherofgold]

Truth or Dare?~ Sam Fender

You had been on tour with Sam exactly 1 month, and although you spent a lot of time together, you wished you could’ve spent more time alone. It was safe to say, you were becoming really good friends. You both had such a strong appreciation for each other’s music, good banter, and the conversations always seemed to flow naturally- whether you were sober or drunk. You could genuinely say that supporting him was an honour. It helped that you were really good mates with his band too, cause with them around, there was never a dull moment. 

It was Tuesday night, and the only night where the both of you weren’t performing. You and the guys sat in the pub, drinking pints and sharing chips, whilst talking about upcoming plans for the band. It was nice not having to worry about performing that night. You loved it and it was truly your passion, but each night took a toll on your voice, and you were grateful for the night-off. 

“Hey, since we got loads of time to kill, do you wanna hit the town. I heard the night life here is crazy,” Dean said. 

“I would, but I’m kinda tired, I might just head back to the hotel,” you said in response, hoping they wouldn’t rip into you for heading out early. 

“Really y/n, you out of all people. I thought you’d be well up for tonight.” You shrugged your shoulders as confirmation. Your mind was not gonna be swayed tonight. 

“Actually, I might have to join y/n on this one. I’m fucking knackered.” Sam said. He smiled at you, as if he was saying this to back you up. You smiled back, appreciating his decision too. 

Dean through up his hands in frustration. “Well, you’re all fucking wet wipes then. Please tell me the rest of you are up for it. I’m not heading back to the hotel at 8.” Everyone else laughed and nodded, buzzed to get out. At least you weren’t the only one not going though, but it also meant that you and Sam would be alone in the taxi together, and although you were friends, you hadn’t spent any time alone. Your palms started to sweat, already nervous for the dreaded taxi ride home. 

Soon after, everyone piled out the pub heading for the town, all apart from you and Sam. The both of you hopped into the cab. “So are you really knackered or are you just not in the mood to party?”, you asked curiously. 

“Bit of both really. Never thought I’d say this, but I just don’t fancy drinking tonight.” You both laughed and joked on the way home, making small talk until the taxi pulled up outside the hotel. As you headed down the corridor towards your rooms, Sam quickly stepped in front of you, stopping you from moving any further. You gave him a questioning look. “Do you wanna just chill tonight? I don’t really fancy heading to bed yet and I could use the company. I promise I won’t bore you to death.” Your heart skipped a beat. You could handle a cab ride home with him, but a whole evening. The thought of it made your heart race. But you knew you’d kick yourself if you turned down the offer, and you were just friends anyway. He certainly didn’t like you like that. 

“Yeah sure, why not,” you shrugged, trying to act cool. He smiled in response, and the both of you headed towards his room. 

 It was later in the night and the both of you had had such a laugh. You had ordered room service, and had stuffed your faces with the biggest burgers. Then you had spilled all of your secrets, your most embarrassing memories, and had taken the piss out of each other as well as Sam’s band mates. It was all going smoothly, until Sam had suggested a game to lighten up the night. At first, you had laughed at the idea. Truth or dare? That was such a childish game. The kinda game you play at your first house party, where horny teenagers get the chance to experience their first sexual encounter. Yet you agreed nonetheless, what was the worst that could happen anyways, you thought. So far, you had posted the ugliest mug of yourself on your insta, messaged Van Mccann for a bootycall, and told Sam about the time you pissed yourself, cause you had locked yourself out of your own apartment. It was safe to say you had lost all of your dignity. Sam, however, had ‘accidentally’ sent his mum a kinky message (which he definitely regretted when she messaged him with how disgusted she was), showed you his search history (which was quite average for a single lad in his 20s), and told you about his worst and most embarrassing sexual experience. Now the two of you sat on the floor, next to each other, with your backs against the bed, tired but still up for another game. “Truth or dare?”, Sam asked as he looked over at you, smirking. 

“Ummmm dare”, you grinned back. He hummed, as if pondering what to dare you, a mischievous glint obvious in his eyes. 

“I dare you to take off your top”. You lifted your eyebrows, smirk in play, as if saying really, but willingly obliged. Internally, you thanked yourself for choosing to wear one of your nicer bras that day. Sam stole a glimpse of your chest, and nervously bit his lip, before making eye contact once more.

“Truth or dare?” you asked. 

Without hesitation, Sam responded with dare. “I dare you to take your top off”. He raised his eyebrows in amusement, almost as if he was saying really. This was definitely some kind of challenge between the two of you. To see who would give in first, and you sure as hell wasn’t gonna lose. He took his top of off and your breath hitched in your throat. He grinned as he realised the effect he had on you. It was clear to say, you liked what you saw, and already temptation to reach over and touch him, was hard to resist. The game went back and forth, before the two of were sat in nothing but your underwear. 

“Truth or dare?” Sam asked, barely above a whisper. You swallowed, nervous but eager, having waited long enough for this. “Dare”, you replied. 

“Kiss me”, Sam said. Without thinking, you attacked his lips hungrily, craving his touch. Sam didn’t waste time, before kissing you back. He grabbed you behind the head pulling you closer to him, wanting to feel you, and wanting to feel every part. His other hand roughly grabbed your waist tightly. You groaned into the kiss and you could feel Sam smile against your lips, clearly loving the effect he had on you. Still on the floor, Sam slowly stood up, forcing you to follow suit, still not breaking the kiss. You had wanted, had dreamed of this for a month, and now that it was happening, it felt surreal. You pulled away, as reality came crashing down. 

“Sam we shouldn’t be doing this, we basically work together.” Still holding you in his arms, inches away from the bed, Sam looked down at you, lust evident in his eyes. 

“You want this right?” you nodded in reply. “And I want this too. Problem solved. Thinking gets you nowhere, lets just enjoy what we have now.” He leaned down to kiss you again, almost cautiously as if scared you wouldn’t kiss him back.  Of course you kissed back, stupid with yourself for even considering a stop to this. Sam pushed you against the bed, kissing down your neck. You knew you’d wake up with marks tomorrow, which you definitely had to hide from the lads. No way in hell could they find out about this, you and Sam would never hear the end of it. Sam’s hand roamed down your body, embracing every curve. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this,” he mumbled against your skin. His hand moved your panties to the side, giving him access to rub circles on your clit. You moaned breathy moans, Sam’s name a whisper on your lips. He looked down at you through his lashes, loving the sight of you underneath him. Naked, eyes screwed shut and moaning his name. He could just come undone himself seeing you like this. 

With great determination you stopped his hand, and looked up at Sam. You bit your lip and flipped the two of you over, so you were on top, catching Sam off guard. You leaned down and seductively whispered in his ear. “I want you Sam”. Sam didn’t need to hear you twice, he pulled down his boxers, eager, having wanted this all night. You shimmied off your panties and slowly slid down onto Sam. The both of you released sighs, your heads falling back. Having adjusted to the length, you started rocking your hips, slow at first and then picking up the pace. The two of you groaned in pleasure. Sam gripped your hips hard, his own hips bucking into you, helping you out and reaching angles inside you that not even your ex could achieve. Sweat glistened on your bodies, and the room echoed your moans. You prayed to God that people in the neighbouring rooms couldn’t hear, cause that would be hella awkward for them. But in that moment you didn’t care. You were in pure ecstasy. You picked up the pace once more, close to your finish. Sam was close too, by the way he groaned and the way his fingers dug into your hips. You both let out another moan as you finished and slowly rode out your high. Knackered, you slid off of Sam and flopped down beside him, the both of you panting heavily. 

Sam pulled his arm behind your head, and around your shoulders, bringing you closer. You rested your head on his chest, feeling his heart rate slow down and his breathing become slower. You traced small shapes on his chest, feeling as if you were in your very own safe place. Here with Sam, just the two of you, wrapped in each others arms. You didn’t need to speak, you knew exactly how you felt about each other. And you’d speak about it soon, but for now, you both embraced the moment. Enjoying the small comfort of each other, as the night drew to an end, and you drifted off to sleep in each others arms. 

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

Dear God, I am very sorry for this sin I have just committed. I promise I’m a good girl really :) Anyways, so this was my first smut fic. It’s loosely based off another fic I read (surprisingly called truth or dare) that I read from Wattpad. So go check that one out too, and creds to that writer. I hope you guys enjoyed and give me some feedback (or even some requests?) if you want. It’s crazy what quarantine can do to you. Love you guys, stay safe!! 

[cagestark]

Ok here's my prompt: college winterironspider, established winterspider and they want to do a trio costume with Tony as a way to show him they want him 💕💕

A late Halloween Prompt whipped up in thanks for boosting my friend’s rpg. Thank you! (Also you all say that Halloween is a 365 day event so 3 days late shouldn’t stop you right? ;)

Warnings: homophobia including slurs, some mention of smuttiness but nothing explicit, foul language. WinterIronSpider. 3.6k.

-

Tony flings open the dorm room door, already toeing off his sodden shoes. New England weather could turn on dime, and it had a habit of turning unfavorable on the 15 minute trek from the Chem labs back to his dorm room. His shirt is sticking to his skin, jeans heavy with rain. He can feel his hair, getting just this side of too long for how Howard likes it, dripping down the back of his neck.

Mother Nature hates him, and she’s not the only one, because Peter Parker is lounging on Tony’s roommate’s bed. Bucky is nowhere in sight, but the bathroom door is closed, so deductive reasoning is barely required. They’ve probably been fucking; the room has that musty scent that makes him twitch in his wet pants. Parker lays among the mussed sheets and blankets like the pillow princess he must be, curls riotous, beaming at the sight of Tony.

“Hey, Tony,” says Parker in the softest, cracking voice that Tony’s ever heard come from a nineteen-year-old. He blinks dazed, whiskey-colored eyes. “Y’re all wet.”

“I know. Where’s Barnes?”

“Bathroom.”

Tony hums. Barnes liked to take ridiculously long showers, conditioning his ridiculously long hair, moisturizing his ridiculously huge and attractive body. The guy was the antithesis to his boyfriend, large where Parker was small, dark where he was light, brooding where Parker was a goddamn ray of sunshine sneaking in through a crack in the curtains and blinding Tony. With Barnes in the shower, Tony is stuck shivering in his wet clothes, wishing he’d stayed out in the downpour and smoked a cigarette. Instead, he just sits on his bed—his sheets have seen worse than some rainwater. Opening up his bookbag, he sees that his textbooks are unscathed. Thank fucking God.

All the time, he feels Parker’s eyes on him. The kid is too pretty for his own good—both he and his boyfriend. When he came to MIT, he had envisioned dozens of nightmare scenarios regarding roommates. Maybe they’d steal his clothes, eat his food, leave their hair in the drain. Instead, he’d gotten a goddamn Calvin Klein model and his twink. Sometimes, Tony had to lay awake facing the wall on his side of the dorm room, pretending he didn’t hear the breathy giggles and dirty, foul whispers as the two fooled around while their roommate was ‘sleeping’. It left him unbearably hard, determined not to rut into the mattress lest they find out that he was still awake (and stop, God, please don’t stop—).

It was all very, very fucked up: how much Tony liked them; how much it made him hate them.

“You’re gonna catch pneumonia,” Parker says.

“What do you want me to do about it, kid?” Tony asks. He’s only three years older than Parker, but the kid seems so young—the enthusiasm, the naivete, the buoyancy. Tony can’t help but call him kid.

Parker raises his eyebrows. “It’s your room. Take off your clothes.”

Tony stops where he’s flipping through his textbook. He lets it fall closed with a thud, assessing Parker’s gaze. He looks innocent enough, maybe a little sleepy, but he wasn’t dumb by any means (a full ride to MIT proved that). Surely he had to know how that sounded, for him to tell his boyfriend’s roommate to undress in front of him.

“In front of you, Parker? I’ll take the pneumonia.”

The kid just grins, shaking his head. “Whatever. Are you going to the Halloween Party at Delta Psi?”

“Everybody is going to the Halloween Party at Delta Psi,” Tony answers flatly.

“Are you going to wear a costume?”

“Fuck no.”

“Because you have no idea what to wear, right.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “You’re a shit, Parker. So, what if I don’t? I’m an engineer; what do I need to dress up for?”

“I’m dressing Bucky; I could dress you too.”

“Yeah,” Tony snarks. “That’s just what I want.”

The bathroom door opens. Bucky appears in nothing but a towel around his hips. His abs violate state and federal laws—or at least if they don’t, they should. His hair is wet and up in a bun. Eyes like the ocean iced over drag up and down Tony’s body, making him feel heated despite the goosebumps on his skin. Tony is keenly aware of how his nipples have hardened, somewhere between the icy downpour and the sight of Parker looking fucked out on the twin-sized bed.

“Took you long enough,” Tony mutters. He grabs some clothes from the drawer and disappears into the bathroom, cranking the shower (and the drain is spotless because Barnes is a fucking good guy who cleans up after himself, the asshole) up to hellish proportions and peeling his wet clothes from his body. On the other side of the door are warm voices that are easy enough to tune out, or to tune into when he’s standing under the burning spray with a hand on his cock.

-

When he gets out of the shower, Parker is gone back to his own dorm. Bucky is eating a bowl of cereal, still shirtless. The words come out of Tony’s mouth before he can stop them: “Barnes, I think your boyfriend hit on me when you were in the shower. I just thought you might want to know that.”

Barnes stops chewing. He’s got the best poker face Tony has ever seen, no hint of anger or jealousy or surprise. His jaw closes again with an obscene, sugary crunch. After he swallows, he says, “Thanks, Tony. You’re a good friend.”

-

The first package arrives two days later. It’s for Tony, with no return address. He rolls his eyes—that’s just like his mother to be so dramatic as to not even say she’s sending him anything nor leave her mark. When he opens it though, there are no deliciously baked treats, no heartfelt (maybe a little distant) cards with carefully crafted handwriting, no trinkets that are hideous which he will be forced to cherish. Instead, it’s the ugliest pair of pants he’s ever seen: straight-legged and a size too big for him and a dirty gray.

“The fuck, mom,” Tony mutters. He tosses them aside. “Really off your game, crazy old bat.”

But when Barnes gets out of class and spots the box sitting on Tony’s desk, he points to it. “Did you get the first part of your costume?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your costume?” Bucky enunciates more, the fucking asshole, like Tony didn’t hear him the first time. “Peter told me that you said you were cool with him getting you a costume. He gets really fucking into Halloween. I saw this picture of him up in his Aunt’s apartment in Queens—”

Tony holds up a hand. “Stop. Rewind. I in no way told Parker he could dress me up for Halloween. Period.”

Barnes just raises his eyebrows. “That’s not what Peter thinks.”

“I couldn’t care less what he thinks, I’m not some doll for him to play with.”

“Next time he’s over, you can tell him so.” The guy’s pale eyes fucking glitter—glitter—like he knows that’s not going to go over well for Tony. And maybe it won’t, maybe Tony’s going to have to break some fucking hearts, but there’s no chance in hell he’s going to be caught dead in a costume, especially not one picked by a doe-eyed little twink like Parker.

But when Parker arrives for his date with Bucky two hours later, pink-cheeked from the windy cold, he’s got another little box tucked under his arm that he thrusts into Tony’s hands.

Tony thrusts it back. “Nope. Don’t want it.”

Parker frowns, looking up at Tony with those flat brows curled in confusion. “What do you mean? It’s for your costume.”

Barnes watches everything through the reflection in the mirror he keeps by his bed. He’s currently combing his hair like a schmuck (fuck, he looks so handsome), mouth pressed into a flat line, though Tony suspects that it’s more from holding back laughter than expressing any discontent. Tony chooses a point on the wall above Parker’s head and stares at it. The kid’s got eyes like vortexes, and Tony isn’t getting sucked in, no sir, not today.

“No costume. I’m not wearing a costume.”

“Sure you are, I’ve already bought the stuff. It’s started to arrive—did you get the pants?”

“Pants? Is that what they’re called? They’re hideous—” Barnes makes a noise in the corner that has Tony throwing a fuming glare his way. “I’m not going to wear them, or anything else. So return the stuff, kid.”

Parker stares down at the small package in his hands. “I—I can’t. I had it expedited so that it would get here in time for Halloween. No returns.”

“No re—? Well, fuck. That’s not my problem. I didn’t ask you to buy me stuff for a costume. What the hell were you going to dress me up as, anyway? A corpse from the 80’s?”

When Parker looks up, his eyes are a little misty. He rubs at one with his forearm, probably scratching himself with the wool from his coat. “It was gonna be a surprise.”

And yep. There it is. That does Tony in, because as much as Tony wishes he was the no good cruel piece of shit that plenty of people around MIT and the New England area like to label him as, he’s a sucker for tears. He’s seen his mom cry too many times, it just—it gets to him.

Tony snatches the package out of the kid’s hands. He points a finger at him. “No cartoon characters. No cross-dressing. No dorky inanimate objects, like a fork or a wet floor sign. Got it? Swear to God, kid, if you embarrass me in front of the whole school, I will never forgive you.”

“Why would I want to embarrass you?” Parker asks. He holds out a pinky. “It’s not embarrassing. Promise.”

“Fuck your pinky, man. Go on your date. Get out—you too Barnes, I don’t want to see either of your faces for like, two hours or something. Swear to God. I’m at the end of my rope, do you hear me? The end of my fucking rope.”

-

In the box is a scarf, long and plain and red. Tony rolls his eyes and sets it with the pants.

That night when he returns from his evening class, he finds that Barnes and his boyfriend have dragged all the blankets off of Bucky’s bed and onto the floor creating the warmest, coziest looking nest Tony’s ever seen. It looks like a slice of Heaven after coming in from the brutal cold. The best spot of all looks to be somewhere in between Barnes who is sprawled on his back, one arm behind his head and the other outstretched, and Peter who lays with his head cushioned on that ridiculous bicep. The size different between the two of them makes Tony’s mouth go dry.

On the wall, a Star Wars movie plays: The Empire Strikes Back.

Parker leans his head up, blinking at the sight of Tony in the doorway. He smiles, so soft and sweet that it hurts. “Hey Tony,” he says. He pats the blanket beside him. “Want to join us? There’s room.”

Tony hasn’t the slightest idea what to make of that. Not even a little one. Doesn’t Parker know how awkward that would be? For Tony to just cuddle in a pillow fort with Barnes and his boyfriend? Doesn’t Parker know how much that would hurt—

“No, I’ve got somewhere to be,” Tony lies. He steps out the door he had just came through and shuts it behind him. The library is always open on campus, and Tony falls asleep bent over the table there, cheek pressed into a book about the latest breakthroughs in Artificial Intelligence.

-

The next day arrives a plain white t-shirt in a plastic bag. Begrudgingly, Tony tries it on. It clings to his chest and the gentle six-pack he sports (nothing like Barnes who spends five days a week at the on-campus gym and drinks protein shakes in the morning). Turning sideways, he eyes himself in the mirror. At least this doesn’t look bad, certainly not with the way it clings to his biceps, but he will be fucking freezing.

Barnes comes in and catches Tony checking himself out in the mirror. For a moment, Tony thinks that maybe Barnes is checking him out, too, but—

“Looks good,” Bucky purrs. Making fun of Tony, surely.

Tony flips him the bird, but the guy just laughs.

“What is he dressing you up as?” Tony asks. Purely out of curiosity. Knowing how whipped Barnes was, Peter could dress him up as anything and he’d take it. Even something embarrassing or emasculating.

Barnes just rolls his eyes. “You know him. It’s a secret.”

The comradery with which he says it, like of course Tony knows how Peter is—something about it itches at the back of Tony’s brain, a mosquito that has landed and started to suck at his blood. But it’s no surprise that Barnes and his boyfriend are weirdos who like to spend more time having ‘dates’ in their dorm room with Tony rather than at a restaurant or the movies or any fucking where else.

But, like all things that Tony doesn’t want to wonder about, he pushes to the back of his brain.

-

The next day, it is a denim jacket and hideous combat boots.

“Fashion homicide,” Tony mutters.

-

The day before Halloween brings Tony a red flannel shirt.

“Goddamnit,” he says, holding it up so Barnes can see. “What is he dressing me up as, a lesbian?”

-

It isn’t until he’s assembling it all in the bathroom that he puts it together—and okay. It’s not bad. Bender was easily the coolest character in the Breakfast Club, though his fashion sense was nothing like Tony’s. The layers—white shirt under flannel under denim—are a little stifling, but out in the cold fall air, it would be perfect. He even combs his hair back.

All in all, Parker could have done far, far worse.

But when he comes out of the bathroom and finds the two of them in the dorm room, he sees that Parker has done worse.

Matching costumes.

Parker is Brian through and through. He looks like a total scrub in his khakis with Nike sneakers on, the long-sleeved sweater that clings to his thin frame. A ballpoint pen is tucked behind his ear, wrist-watch circling the delicate little wrist, and to top it off, a pair of sunglasses are looped over the collar of his sweater.

And Barnes? Forgone are his goth threads. He sits on his bed wearing blue jeans that hug his broad thighs, the whitest shoes that Tony’s ever seen, and a goddamn blue wifebeater that shows off his arms, both heavily muscled. Folded on his pillow is a letterman jacket, and Tony doesn’t even like jocks, but his cock twitches at the sight, thinking of slipping it down off of Bucky’s bare shoulders.

“No—we match,” Tony says.

Peter lights up. “Yes! You got it! The Breakfast Club is a classic.”

“I should have said no matching costumes. We look like—” like boyfriends, Tony thinks, “—like queers. I’m not going out like this.”

“Watch the slurs you throw around,” Barnes says, his mouth an unhappy, flat line.

Tony winces. “I—I didn’t mean it like that. But this is taking it to a whole new level that I’m not comfortable with. Not to mention, three gays all going out in matching costumes? Isn’t that a little suggestive?”

“Suggestive of what?” Parker asks. He’s holding fingerless gloves—the last part of Tony’s costume. It’s the cherry on top. With the cigarettes that Tony plans to be chainsmoking thanks to the stress of this whole event, he’ll be method acting his character all night.

“Come on. Suggestive, suggestive. Like we’re all—” Tony mashes his hands together.

Barnes reaches out, hand flat, arm flexing nicely. He doesn’t even look at Parker and Parker doesn’t look at him, but they slap hands in a high five.

“Am I speaking in tongues? I’m not fucking leaving like this; I’m not going to have the whole campus thinking I’m your loser third wheel.” It would be too painful, when there’s a shameful part of him that would gladly be the third wheel to them, that’s desperate to be between them. This feels like the crudest parody.

“You wouldn’t be,” Peter says.

“Pete, maybe we shouldn’t do this right now,” Barnes interrupts.

“No, Bucky, this was supposed to—supposed to be cute!” Parker turns away from them, towards the wall by Tony’s bed. He drops the gloves there and crosses his arms. It would be petulant if it wasn’t so heartbroken, the curve of his shoulders, his head drooping down morosely. Instead, the kid just looks like he’s trying to hold himself together.

Tony sighs. It takes Herculean strength not to roll his eyes. “Kid. I’m sorry. Clearly this meant a lot to you. Fuck knows why, but—”

Peter turns around, eyes tearful and flashing with anger. He reaches up to his ear, fiddling with the lobe with trembling fingers. Grabbing Tony’s wrist, he puts a little diamond earing in his palm, just like Claire did with Bender.

“What’s this?” Tony says, shoulders hunching. “My ears aren’t pierced.”

“Yes they are,” Peter says through his teeth. “You probably got them pierced five or so years ago, but your dad was an asshole about it and made you take them out. It’s been ages and the holes are hard to see but they still won’t close.”

Tony blanches. He can still hear the way Howard demeaned him, spent the whole dinner talking his Tony’s mother about how ridiculous the boy looked, how it gave people ideas about him, because pierced ears are for women and the only men who have them are faggots. “How the fuck do you even know that?”

“Do you think I’m dumb?” This is the loudest Peter’s ever been, his usual fragile voice replaced by this one that is sure and angry and doesn’t crack.  “One: I spend every moment that I’m not looking at Bucky looking at you. I’ve got eyes; I know what a hole in an ear looks like, thanks. Two: your dad is an asshole about everything. He’s probably the reason why you don’t drink mixed drinks, why you call us queers even though you’re bi, why you lie and say you’re going to spend the whole holiday break at home but then come back and spend it here alone in the dorm. Because your dad is an asshole.

“He’s probably the reason why you’re such a fucking dunce too. A thick skull must run in the family, because Bucky and I have been hitting on you the entire semester and even though you go into the bathroom to jerk off every time you come back to the dorm and catch us making out, you won’t make a move or, or let us make the move, and—”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Tony says, his own voice rising to a shout. “You’ve been doing all this bullshit on purpose? Blowing Barnes when you know I’m awake? Skipping around here in your underwear because, what, you know it turns me on? Because you want to out me? Am I a fucking joke to you?”

“No,” Peter shouts, slapping a hand flat on Tony’s chest. “We like you, fuckface!”

The force of Peter’s tiny hand barely makes Tony sway, but the words—those might as well knock him to his knees. He feels like the scarf around his neck is on too tight, like there’s not enough air in the room. He licks his lips, his eyes moving between Peter’s red-rimmed eyes and nose (he’s an ugly crier) and Bucky who is still sitting on the twin bed watching them, his face white and afraid.

“You like me?” Tony asks. “What does that even mean? You two are together.”

“It means,” Peter says, taking Tony’s fist, coaxing open the anxious fingers to wear the diamond stud earring still rests, cutting into his palm. Peter presses his thumb against it, tenderly. “That we like you. We want you. To get to know you. You—and not your hang-ups.”

Tony shakes his head, taking his hand from Peter’s burning grip. “I—I can’t do that. My dad—”

“—is an asshole,” Bucky mutters.

Tony snorts softly. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re not wrong.”

“We don’t have to go home with you at Thanksgiving or Christmas or ever, if you don’t want,” Peter says. “We just want a chance. We want you to do something for yourself. Not your dad. Does that make sense?”

The silence lingers around the room. Somewhere in the distance, Halloween music is playing, ghoulish noises and moans and witch-like cackling. Mouth dry, Tony takes the backing off of the stud earing and reaches up, feeling for the holes in the lobes of his ears. It’s been years since he wore them, and his hands are trembling so badly that he can’t even find them—

“I’ll help you,” Peter says tenderly, taking the earring. He has it in in a moment and leans back, taking Tony in from head to toe.

“Well?” Tony asks. He clears his throat—there’s something stuck in it, some lump that he has to swallow away. He holds out his arms. “How do I look?”

“Gay,” Bucky says from the corner, smiling.

“That’s it!” Tony shouts. “I’m not going! Thanks for nothing! I’m out!”

“Tony,” Peter groans. “He was just joking, he’s—”

But Tony is already stalking to the dorm room door and pulling it open. He stops to glance over his shoulder at Bucky and Peter who are watching him with wide eyes. “Well?” he says. “I’m all for being fashionably late, but if we don’t get going, there’s not going to be anything left of the keg—”

The two scramble for their jackets and follow him out the door.

[jojparasol]

silver springs

I hope you all enjoy my first imagine! I originally wrote this at around 1am so mind any mistakes or anything. This was clearly inspired by Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Silver Springs.’ It’s one of my favourite songs and you’ll see a few lyrics spread throughout. Enjoy x

The one where Y/N is tired of being the girl on the side and harry has a promise.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Sexual mentions, angst??

Part two here and part three here

"I brought her a ring — a promise ring," he whispered, staring up into the ceiling as he felt his chest heaving in a calm pattern. Y/N closed her eyes the second he said that pronoun, knowing that it was not her he was referring to, of course, it wasn’t. Oh God, she felt this feeling too often. The feeling that strangled its long arms around her, but it was the softest drop of poison that made her heart melt. 

And it hurt. It hurt knowing that her love for him ran for miles. But he stopped at the starting line, watching her run with her weak legs trying to liven up her love for him as he watched her disappear with a heavy heart. It was clear he never loved her. He loves the woman he’s going to give a promise ring to, he’s gonna get down on one knee as he proposes her a promise. A promise to give her the world, give her his future and give her his everything. And Y/N stood there like a fool — she knows she’s a fool and possibly the biggest one out. She’s going to stay until he properly tells her she needs to go and leave him for good. It might’ve been time for Y/N to take her heart back from Harry because he wasn’t looking after it well, considering the fact that he never did. 

Y/N scrunches the white sheets up to her chest, her faint red knuckles fisted between the soft fabric as it covered her naked body, warming the goosebumps that scattered throughout her bare skin. Her pouted lips puffed out into a small sigh, slightly shaking her head at the thought of Harry’s future without her.

“I don’t wanna know, H,” she managed to croak out, feeling her throat tighten at the realisation of her hurt. She felt her head spinning in continuous circles that ran around her heart. She could practically see shades of grey flashing in front of her sunken eyes as if there wasn’t any sort of colour to her world at that moment. 

“She’s pretty. She loves me,” he continued with no sort of care for the vulnerable woman lying beside him. He didn't need to fucking brag. There was no need for the reminder that Harry’s loved or that Y/N knows very well that she’s pretty. Hell, there’s always that constant reminder. Whenever Y/N came over, she’d see photo frames of the couple together or simply going on her phone where’d she see recent photos of Harry out for lunch or on a jog on her feed. Not to mention, whenever Harry’s phone lit up from his nightstand, she knew it was her daily ‘good night’ message that covered the lock screen of surprise — her.

“Then why the fuck are you here? Why did you just sleep with me if she loves you and you love her?” Y/N sat up, her voice still broken and strained. Her hair tangled and her glassy eyes dared to look at the man who she couldn’t help but still love.

She told him she loved him years ago. She remembers aimlessly mumbling to herself that he would never love her, shutting down her previous thoughts of confidence where she felt like she could confess her undying love for that man. They’re best friends and as duty calls, she stood by him throughout every harsh break up he’s been through. She would sit on the couch, with his head in her lap as she comforted him saying the usual phrases of ‘you deserve better’ or ‘you’ll find the one.’ And Y/N believed she was the one.

So, when the rush of alcohol split through her body on a lonely, drunken night, she found herself pouring her hopeless love to him over the phone. She doesn’t remember him saying much apart from a simple, ‘I’m coming over.’ He ended the call and appeared in her apartment in what felt like another quick shot of alcohol. Harry sat her down, gazing into her bloodshot eyes and gave her a sympathetic smile. He didn’t even have to open his mouth for her to bawl her eyes out, probably emitting the ugliest sounds she thinks he’s ever heard. But she continued anyway, pathetically crying into his arms as he gently thumbed away her tears. Harry never questioned if she meant it because he always knew that ‘drunk words turn sober.’  A year later, he met her. He met the person he claims as 'the one.'

Delilah. That was her name — just like that Tom Jones song or the Plain White T's song. Either way, her name just delighted everyone — see, even her name was similar to the word delight. And God, the way it rolled off his tongue so naturally like it was the most simple thing to do. Y/N saw Harry's eyes sparkle and all he could ever do was compliment her on every single detail of the human being. She was his epitome of life and beauty.

"Christ, Y/N. Ye should've seen 'er. She's everything I could have wanted and more."

It was like a stab to her chest but Y/N congratulated him anyway because he was just too God damn happy and it was what he deserved. But she couldn’t comprehend how hurt she felt — words couldn’t describe.

All her hatred ripped into oblivion when Y/N finally met Delilah and she suddenly understood Harry. Y/N could not point a single flaw on the woman. She had piercing hazel eyes and wavy chestnut hair that reached just above her breasts. She had a voice like an autumn wind and the look of a Greek Goddess. Her words and actions dripped with love and perfectly fitted Harry's trademark of 'treat people with kindness.' Y/N remembered not feeling any anger towards Delilah because it wasn't her fault. It was never her fault. It was Harry's.

Harry stayed silent. The room was left with heavy breaths from Y/N's crying as she reminisced on their past.

"I don't regret it, though. I don't regret the first night we spent with each other."

He was talking about that night. The night that he and Delilah had gotten into a huge fight and he came running to Y/N with desperate pleas. She felt sorry for him, of course, and they were back to the same usual setting — where his head rested on her lap and he cried about how much he doesn't want to lose her because she's the one. That was when Y/N realised she never felt this way with any man because she never tried to. She never was interested in any other guy apart from the Harry. He'd always complain why Y/N never dated anyone and for a bit, she also didn't know why. But in the end, she finally found out why.

Y/N had set up his favourite rom coms and she cradled Harry in her arms as he cried when Allie and Noah broke up, parting their ways as they left their summer love. She also cried, a stray tear falling down her reddened cheek but Harry never noticed. They survived the movie, blinking at the credits scene. Harry had thanked her for being there as she nodded, avoiding eye contact. But he leaned in close to caress her cheek and soon enough, his lips pressed against hers. She didn't stop him — she didn't want to, she kissed back just as hard as he did, forbidden adrenaline rushing through her veins. She admitted to herself that she was selfish, she's always been with Harry. He was her only dream and all she ever wanted to do was love him. And that night, he let her.

Y/N never understood why he stayed after the first night. But, she didn't want to question it in fear of losing him. She was just there whenever he needed a temporary relief and she happily obliged. It was wrong, but the feeling was right. She was his silver springs.

"Why did you stay?" Y/N finally asked the question she's been asking herself ever since she started loving him. She turned to the side to face him. He was sat up, his bare chest slowly heaving up and down as he stared at the piece of jewellery in his hands. He was fumbling with the tiny, glittery ring in the palm of his hands that was probably worth more than what Y/N could ever achieve in her life. He had his thumb caressing over the shiny diamond, feeling the cold metal of the band. It's as if the ring was mocking her. Mocking her that it was going to be given to someone else — someone but her. Delilah.

He looked up, staring past the ceiling and into the sky, he was looking up to an imagined angel he always trusted on. "I don't exactly know. I just felt like I needed to. After all those years, I had to."

"Can you tell me if it was worth it?" She asked once again. Suddenly, she could only ask questions. Questions where she'd end up hurt either way. Questions where she's down to lose her heart.

"I don't think you want to know," he mumbled, aware of her fragile state. He didn't want to look at her because they both knew they were avoiding something. He knows she should stop and that he should be careful with Y/N. But he was never careful with her. Y/N agrees, she claims that he's the reason why there are bruises on her heart.

"Is it over?" The words fell off the end of her quivering lips. It was an awaiting question because if he did say yes, it was her queue to go. And Harry knew that he had to give her an answer, an answer that'll hurt although it'll be filled with an aching truth.

"Yes."

So she left. The second the word left his lips, she grabbed her clothes from the floor and quickly dressed into them. Harry didn't say anything as she did that. He simply formed a fist with his palms, the ring digging into his skin.

“Y’know, Harry, mark my words. Time casts a spell on you, but you won’t forget me. I hope these words haunt you because I tried loving you but you fucking wouldn’t let me."

It seemed like he didn't process it fast enough, it was a whole blur to him. He watched her shake her head in disbelief after her short speech, mumbling some profanities as she left with the door shutting closed.

After a few minutes of silence, Harry could hear the sound of the car starting and eventually driving away. She was also right, he could hear her words, ready to haunt him forever. That was it. He lost her.

[unikornu]

Page 2 - Initiation - Pre-war memories of Lucy Feit

The month passed since Lucy worked along with Harrison on nasty or weird cases that logic explanation was barely to be found there but gladly Harrison was already an expert on that and Lucy was open minded for even the craziest possibilities. At first he would wish to muzzle her snarky and uncareful mouth when asking questions around the crime scenes but eventually she got some of his words seriously and tuned down her attitude. He couldn’t blame her, being young and with less care than ever before, laying low enough just to keep her head on the neck.

Harrison became eventually like a mentor to her, a bit rough in his approach but it kept her impulsive nature at check. She had trust in his experience and she felt that behind his tough and roughed skin lies a softer man who just got highly disappointed at some chapter in his life and threw it all away just to do things his own dirty way.

- Sir, i finished the report. I came up with something since...idea of a robot looking exactly like our suspect feels a bit...off. She snapped a paper from a machine and handed it to Harrison.

Her desk was placed behind the wall sharing the room in his office and he even gave her the same comfortable leather chair as he had instead of these hard wooden ones since she got hooked up on a job. It was kind of big for her size but oh boy she could almost fall asleep in it when working late.

-Good job Feit. Good to see u are not a total failure afterall. He looked over the paper and added it to the rest of the records in a file. As she walked away back to her desk he took a few seconds of thought.

-Feit, come back for a second. I might have a special job for you from the Boss this time but only if you are one hundred procent sure u can pull this off. He pulled a photo and a crumbled note out of his jacket pocket.

- Really? My first real task from... down there? She was surprised that they would give her a try already but also a bit nervous.

- Consider that your trust ticket that you will be the right person for the real job. She reached slowly towards the photo but Harrison pulled it back.

- But that is serious Feit, no mistakes, no japing around, u do what you are told to do or you and me gonna have a problem. She nodded and stood placing the hands behind her back.

-Alright...this man is gonna be tonight as Sapphire night club, they already figured out his routine, where hes going, when. He somehow got his hands on a holotape with a list of some of our boys down there, today and he intends to use this. He handed her a photo of a middle aged man with a balding head, slightly more chubby. Nightmare of every secretary if that is their boss.

- I..know him. He was working few rooms away from me. Always bothering women around ugh, i never liked him. She folded a photo and slipped it in the pocket in her pants.

- That is why you gonna go tonight to that club, present yourself to a barman as a new worker and get that holotape from him, i don’t care how, just do it without him noticing. Also if u pull this off Sapphire is going to be your second base where u gonna join a girl named...Rosey on collecting data and other things we might need there. Barman, one of bodyguards and her are our people from the Boss so don’t talk to anyone else. He opened a bottle of whiskey and poured himself half a glass.

- Sapphire...isn’t that actually a strip club? You want me to be a stripper now?! She looked at him lowering a corner of her lips and squinting an eye.

- Cool down Feit, not a stripper. Rosey is already a one whore too many there. You gonna be her assistant...u know powdering her ass for a show and making sure the girls have all they need while charming the clients around and steal their shit for us, be it items or words. He took a sip talking about it as calmly as about a weather.

- I would also get used to heels and booze at your place if u gonna stick around there and i think amout of money u might get there will compensate for...struggle. He saw her smiling softy back when he mentioned a payment. She never had a chance to experience a luxury like that in her life that. Leaving her careless parents to a one room shitty apartment and climbing the ladder to a slightly more decent life. And she didn’t last long at the court neither so the smell of money was the one her nose was lurking for.

-Stop dreaming and move Feit! I want to see you with that holotape before the morning. He shooed her with a hand and came back to his files.

------

Gladly Ian was also taking a night shift so she didn’t have to come up with any excuse this time. Sapphire was a big night club placed a out of sight not very far away from the center. It had a wide parking area with tables outside and amount of neons that would give a dead one epilepsy. It was also very expensive one so only high or shady figures were coming there for a nice piece of ass and drink. And the club also respected privacy of their clients so no families even knew their husbands and wifes would lurk in such a place. Secrecy, luxury, beautiful women and money. Lucy saw one of bodyguards recognizing her and pointing with his head towards the back entrance. She took a right through narrow alley next to the building and entered the door that had a “Staff” sign written on it keeping her head low and face hidden beneath the hair.

She entered and to her surprise there was already a red haired tanned woman waiting for her, sitting on a bunch of beer boxes with a cigarette.

- They warned me you tend to be late so i lighted one. I’m Rosey. Want a smoke before the job? She pulled pack of out of her shiny bra.

- No...i should probably focus on a....actually you know what, sure. She pulled a smoke out of a pack and leaned down towards Rosey’s lighter. She had to get used with bad habits aswell if she was about to work in such a place.

- So how much u actually know about me? Lucy asked coughing a bit on a first puff.

- Enough to know that u might be just a girl for a job. Let’s go dress you up first. She stood up and guided Lucy through hallways filled with colorful rooms and lights and a smell of perfume.

- Isn’t it a bit suspicious for me to just come in here like that and work? I mean the manager doesn’t know....

- Look. She interrupted. - There is already so many girls and waitresses that anyone can barely keep up with it. And when u make this much money it tends to cover your sight on a situation. They entered her quarters. It was lighted with red and green gloomy lights, a dressing table filled with all kinds of jewelry and feathery scarfs , decorated with a huge mirror wearing a gold frame  along with a rack stuffed fully with skimpy and sparkly outfits. A room for star...but not star of movie but a strip show.

- That should fit you. And don’t forget the make up and a mask. We have a sort of carnival theme tonight. She handed her black sparkly skirt along with a fitting bra. Our target should be here soon.

- Alright, alright. Lucy took the clothes and hid behind the room screen to undress. - So what...brought u..u know, to this place and this job? She asked while pulling with all her strength the skirt on her tights jumping a bit in a process.

- Three words. Nothing-to-lose. I have no family and no one gives a shit about me anyway so i can do whatever the hell i want...and the money is good. She threw her a pair of heels that hit her in the head behind the screen.

-Ouch..good for you, i guess. At least u don’t have to lie to anyone, almost...

- Look at you, your lucky not to be a stripper or they would eat you alive. She chuckled as Lucy came out prepared, a bit stiff on the heels.

- So what’s the plan? I mean i know we are suppose to work together on this one. She spotted a bottle of booze on the table and shoved a sip down her throat to relax a bit and..to get used with yet one more bad habit as Harrison suggested her.

- Well, u go down and u just present yourself and tell him u have other special girl tonight since Tania got sick. Then i’m gonna take care of him and get that holotape and as we finish i will hand it to you. She explained as they left the room.

- Sounds too easy. Lucy pondered.

- Because it is that easy if u know how to charm...and lie..and steal shit swift enough. U will see soon enough. Rosey pushed her forward as their target entered a club.

--

Lucy pushed her breasts up and puffed her hair with hands before approaching their target.

- Mr Villin i assume? She approached man smiling with her teeth.

- Finally some service, direct me to Tania as usually honey. It’s already paid. He took a long look at her whole figure before taking the glasses off and hanging them on his pocket. He looked also high from drugs, his face all sweaty and red.

- I’m so sorry sir but Tania called in sick....but we have someone as wild and skilled as her. Please, let me direct you to her room, her name is Rosey. Lucy stroke a hair with a hand and winked at him feeling a deep disgust  inside but job needs to be done.

- Why didn’t they call me before then? Hmpf...ok fine. As they walked towards the guests private rooms he didn’t even try to hide he is staring at her ass swaying to the sides. - Aren’t u availble too honey? That ass of yours would look good on my....

- No sir, i’m making sure our girls are prepared for our every client’s desire. She interrupted before letting him finish his dirty thought and opened a door to a room where Rosey was already prepared for a private show.

- Shame...you would make a lot of money riding a rich man like me. She closed the room behind him and leaned against the wall waiting for the session to end. She could hear him calling her all the ugliest words woman could hear. 

- God..and that pig has a wife and kid. But suddenly a sound of struggle and choking reached her ears. She hesitated before peeking inside to not ruin Rosey plan but eventually looked inside.

- Get off me you fuck! He looked angry and high at the same time pushing her to the floor and choking her.

- I know what you trying to do you fucking whore! Yo..you fucking bitches are all the same. Money and dick ain’t enough for your cunt eh? He was angry and shaky from the high of drugs and booze.

Lucy shut and locked the door behind her. No one could know what's going on and they had no idea how he knew about the set up but something needed to be done and fast as he was out of control. The hatred towards this man finally found a release as she saw Rosey choking and struggling under his big cushy sweaty body. She shattered a bottle and stabbed him in the back repeatedly until he released Rosey and fell on his side. Just Lucy didn’t stop there. She sat on his chest and placed a glass shard in her both hands, shoving it down right in his throat few times. The blood spilled onto her face and chest.

- Fucking hell! Rosey grabbed a towel and covered his mouth along with a neck to not let any sounds leave his mouth while he was bleeding out. Lucy was breathing heavly and fast, frozen, the blood dripping from her hands and face. She killed someone for the first time.  

- It was not suppose to happen like that, shit shit..we need to do something. Rosey was wiping the blood from the floor aswell. Luckily there was no carpet. Something in Lucy mind shifted and her face turned from shocked to focused as she pulled herself up.

- Did he come with a car? She asked while going through dead man clothes left on a couch looking for a holotape and a keys.

-Yes, its parked right by the back entrance since front was full. Why? She clumped all the bloody towels together and looked at her.

- We..need to take him out, get him into car and drive away somewhere, get rid of the body, clothes, everything. Rosey nodded and peeked outside the room to make sure no one will see them carrying him outside. Luckly their bodyguard was not so far away so she could give the signal to distract the rest for a while.

- Fucking hell, he’s heavy. They struggled a lot but managed to pack him into his car eventually, shoving him into the back seat low enough to hide him out of the view and covering him with his clothes. They packed all the dirty towels into the baggage.

- Can you drive? Lucy asked while handing her a jacket to cover themselves a bit.

- I’m your girl. But you will have to get a license too eventually if this is how you do your bloody job. My god...he starts to stink, lets hurry. Rosey was not happy, she usually never let the plans go in this manner but she was lucky to have a backup that night.

- Thanks for help. He was bloody heavy and aggressive as fuck. Her face softened as they drove his car outside towards the nearest empty cliff.

- Don’t mention it...it was an impulse and since we will work together it would be shame to fuck it up on a first day like that eh? She wiped the blood from her face and sighted.

- You okay? I mean i know you saw blood and shit with Harrison but i don’t think you ever killed anyone before like that? Rosey looked at her with a concern.

- I’m fine...i will be fine. I mean, i know what i agreed to so..i will just swallow it and move on right? As they arrived to a cliff Lucy pulled a small gas canister and started emptying it all over the car sits and dead body.

- That’s my girl. You will be okay. Do you think tho Harrison will be angry? It kind of came out of hand. They let the car drive itself towards the cliff and crash down in a fire as it hit the rocks, burning down everything away.

- Kind of is a small word for what just happened. But how he knew? Lucy asked as they drank the rest of the whiskey that was left in a bottle they took with them.

- I have no idea but i’m glad you were there. Most important is that we have holotape and we cover all tracks from this night. Lets find a pick up and go back.

-----

Sun didn’t raise yet, it was still very early so Lucy kept her word to get the holotape to the office on time. Her face cleaned from all the make up but tired and pale from a whole night of work.

- I got the holotape and...well.. Lucy approached Harrison standing silently in his office with a back towards her.  

- You had one job Feit, get the fucking holotape and leave! He turned around abruptly grabbing her by a neck and pushing to the wall. - What the fuck happened there?!

- He somehow knew! I had no choice sir. She tried to pull his hands off for a bit of air but even with 50 years on his back Harrison was not one to joke with when shit hits the fan.

- Did you get rid of the body? Wiped evidence? He didn’t release her until he got all the answers.

-Yes! The bodyguard covered us and the barman knows so if anyone asks he came and left because Tania wasn’t available. His car is crashed and burned along with him outside of town. She fell on her knees and coughed as Harrison finally let her out of grip.

- At least that, goddamit Feit. Things never go smooth with you around. He sighted in disappointment but after a moment he offered her hand to stand up.

-But you did your job after all. Don’t take that harshly to yourself how i treat you but you two will have to be more careful. She took his hand and stood up.

- Yes sir. We will...

- And congrats kid, don’t let me down. He stuffed money roll into her hand and pat her shoulder. - Just don’t spend it all in one go will you?

She felt like stabbing this man was a final part of initiation but what meaned more to her was Harrison’s good word on a job well done. He was like a father figure to her later on that she never had any in her life, not wanting to let him down and help her evolve in this new world she stepped into.

----

Ian woke her up with a kiss on a cheek as he arrived to her apartment late in the morning. He noticed a small blood smear under her nose.

- Hey, how was your shift? Are you okay? He looked at her as she woke up a bit concerned about the tiredness on her face. Lucy pulled herself on her elbows towards him and looked him in the eyes.  She grinned and kissed him before pulling him to bed to catch few more hours of sleep.

- I have never been better my dear....

_______________________________

Note: I could say that later on Gage reminds her of Harrison a bit in terms of keeping her impulsive nature on a leash. And looking how age difference between Lucy and Gage would be around 8 years or so yeh, he does have experience and better approach to things while Lucy acts on instincts and impulses. (I have no idea how old is Gage but if i would give him in my universe 35 years Lucy would be 27). And in exchange for pistol training Rosey taught her a bit of charming skills and stealing, maybe a few dirty tricks aswell. And hell Rosey could dance indeed that’s why Lucy also likes to swing from time to time when familiar sounds hit her ear. Spending a lot of time in night clubs forced her to get used with smoking, booze and chems but Rosey had to keep an eye on her as she did tend to go over a bit too much at times. So far im happy to write this sort of shit tbh, makes my head a bit lighter from ideas.  

[humongousbastard]

@switchedflip

     Boxcars is experiencing the same feeling that he’s been experiencing since the moment he ended up here. This emotion is fucking hatred. Half an hour ago, crouching in his apartment, arranging the third of his seven purchased doilies on the floor of the cabinet under the kitchen sink, he was fucking whacked with an all consuming craving for a shitty boardwalk hot dog from the mob operated hot dog stand on Midnight City’s boardwalk, and god damn it, he was going to get a shitty hot dog. Maybe not from Midnight City, but for chrisssakes there’s gotta be a shitty boardwalk hot dog around here. Iswhooza Radiowhazzit is clearly some fucking section of Hell, they’ve got to have a shitty boardwalk hot dog in Hell.

     As it turns out, there is a boardwalk in Iswhooza Radiowhazzit, and it does have a hot dog stand, though he’s pretty sure the teenager working it isn’t involved with the mob. When he’s handed the hot dog, Boxcars actually starts to feel hope that he might enjoy something for once in this tortured fucking existence.

     Then, as he’s walking away, he takes a bite, and the hot dog tastes like real pork.

     Fucking disgraceful.

     He throws it into the ocean.

     “THE FUCK WHAT KINDA TENTACLED SLIVER OF THE FURTHEST FUCKING RING IS THIS HELLPIT MAKES ME FUCKING SICK FER CHRISSAKES YOU WANT A SHITTY HOT DOG THEY CAN’T EVEN DO THAT SHIT RIGHT GOD FUCKING DAMN IT THINK I TASTED SOMETHING LEGAL IN THERE CAN’T A MAN ENJOY SOME FUCKING GARBAGE IN HIS LIFE I’D TAKE THE FUCKING HORSES AND THEIR FUCKING MANURE BASED CIVILIZATION OVER WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT WAS CALL THAT OCEAN POLLUTION GOD FUCKING DAMN IT”

     He throws his hat down and god damn it, Boxcars, you fucking idiot, you’re next to the ocean, the wind’s fucking crazy here, it starts blowing away, that thing is fine Italian silk you told Droog to get the good shit and he yoinked you a hat from a slightly worse brand than the one he got his from. 

     It lands on the head of the ugliest robot he’s ever seen, on top of a far worse hat that is inevitably going to get clumps of cotton blend all over his fucking HAT. This is the worst day of Boxcars’s life.

     “NUTS AND BOLTS IF YOU DON’T GIVE ME MY FUCKING HAT RIGHT FUCKIN NOW I’M GONNA TEAR THIS BOARDWALK UP BOARD BY GODDAMN BOARD AND DROWN US ALL SERVE THE FUCKING SHARKS SOME IDIOT CHOWDER”

[izzy-b-hands]

Fictober 2019, Oct. 21st, “Change Is Annoyingly Difficult.”

Fanfiction

Fandom: Mr. Robot

Pairings: None

Rating: G

Warnings: None, though there’s a bit of swearing. I mean, I usually have that in my fic anyway tbh, but it’s the biggest thing in here for the most part. Mentions of a joint and some smoking, but just briefly.

633 words

One of my fave headcanons that I tbh don’t care if actual canon will ever fully support is that Darlene buys Elliot just...the dorkiest shit for his apartment. Ugly, dorky decorations that look like they were birthed from a horror in a thrift shop basement in the Void. But she gives them out of love and caring and wanting to make him laugh with how silly they are, and sometimes it even works. 

This is one of those moments.

It was a small sign. Pink, with a smiling unicorn head in one corner that had far too many teeth in its mouth, and purple letters clued onto it. 

“That is...really fucking ugly,” Elliot sighed as Darlene hung it in the center of one wall in his living room. 

“I know, but the message it imparts is an important one to remember. And it made me think of you,” Darlene replied as she half bounced, half walked happily back over to join him on the couch. 

The phrase, in the purple and glittery wooden letters read: Change Is Annoyingly Difficult.

“So...did it make you think of me because I’m annoying, difficult, or...god, please tell me it wasn’t the goddamn unicorn...” he laughed. 

“Yes to all, and because I think it serves as a good reminder, for you especially,” she replied, leaning against him. “Hell, think most of us need that reminder sometimes. Change sucks, but it happens no matter what.” 

He frowned. “I do just fine with change.” 

Darlene raised her brows, but said nothing. 

“Most people don’t like change,” he protested quietly. 

“True, but most people aren’t my brother, so you get all my wisdom on this stuff all to yourself.” 

“And the ugly sign.” 

“And the ugly sign,” Darlene nodded sagely. “I worry about you, you asshole. So I thought, maybe when things get real bad, you’ll see that ugly piece of shit, think of me, and call me to talk to instead of just shutting down and trying to deal on your own.” 

“I mean...it is eye-catching,” he smiled. A small smile, but as much as he could muster for her. 

She sat up, and rolled her eyes and a joint. “Maybe I’ll find more like it. Just brighten this place up with the ugliest shit known to man.” 

He lost some time after that as they shared the joint. Was it Mr. Robot chiming in with his opinion on the new decor? If it wasn’t, he was sure he’d pop up soon to offer it anyway. 

When he came back, Darlene was gone, but the sign remained. 

“Take that down,” Mr. Robot scoffed. “Burns my eyes to look at it.” 

“I think I’ll leave it,” Elliot replied. “Nice that she thought of me, even if it is-” 

“So fucking ugly. The ugliest. What the fuck is up with that unicorn?” Mr. Robot went up to the sign to inspect, then stepped back with a grimace. “It is a very ‘Darlene’ sort of gift, to be sure.” 

“You just don’t like it cause she’s not entirely wrong. No one does well with change every time though.” 

“No, I don’t like it because it’s fucking terrible to look at,” Mr. Robot spat. 

“Be nice. It’s...kitsch.” 

“Just...god, shut up,” Mr. Robot sighed. 

“You first.” 

For a moment, it was blissfully silent, as he sat and ignored Mr. Robot’s fuming. 

“A lot of change is coming, you know. You’ve got to be ready for it, on your toes-” 

“I will be,” Elliot interrupted. Darlene’s gift had given him a surge of bravery and energy to push back against him. He was tired, and just wanted to nap. “Now though? I’m gonna nap, and you’re gonna let me.” 

He stretched out on the couch, and turned to face the back of it. 

“Nap? You think you have time for this? Just sleeping to avoid shit, like a child, meanwhile you won’t be ready for the-” 

“Change,” Elliot interrupted again with a yawn. “I heard you the first time. The sign’ll help remind me.” 

“Shut the fuck up, about that fucking sign!” 

He could feel just how livid Mr. Robot was. But it didn’t matter, not right at this moment, and it was nice to have that bit of control. 

One nice, small, positive change. 

[captainsuke]

once after (14)

It’s his own stupid fault, suddenly finding himself alone in the house.

His fault for getting weird with Adrian and then thinking too much about what Adrian said – I’m gay - and stupidly forgetting all his stupid self imposed rules that kept things okay at home. Stupid for skipping school cos he didn’t want to deal with it, didn’t know how to deal with it, not til he thought about it hard enough to not say the wrong thing and screw up everything.

And he’s so fucking stupid for not paying attention to where everyone else was today. For forgetting that Baz was over the border supposedly getting supplies for the next job but it wasn’t exactly a well kept secret that those supplies always seemed to be in the exact same neighborhood that Lucy kept to when she wasn’t in the states.

That Deran forgot Pope wasn’t home because he’d stormed out yesterday after Cath had come round asking for Baz, angry as all hell and Deran had been glad at the time he was going out. Smurf had lied through her teeth at Cath and Pope had been looking for someone to hurt ever since. Deran wasn’t stupid enough to wish him back home while he was like that. And Craig. Well, Craig didn’t come home last night but ever since he’d turned sixteen he’d started a one man mission to fuck every lady that came near Oceanside so Deran’s just gotta hope he’s continuing that and not shitfaced in a gutter. He’s alone in this big house and stupidly even misses Julia, and the way she used to lean on his door and with doped up eyes and lead her kid in like Deran was the best babysitting option. He kinda wishes she was back, that they could mention her name without Smurf turning the place into nuclear winter levels of icy, he’d even look after her stupid kid if it meant he wouldn’t be alone in this house.

He’s an idiot, Deran thinks as he realizes he’s not alone in the house.

The door to his bedroom opens slowly, his eyes track the movement as it creaks its way open and he freezes.

He’s such a fucking idiot.

After.

After when he’s sitting on his bed shoving his feet into his skate shoes with trembling hands that are shaky and numb, he can’t really feel anything right now. There’s a low level buzz in his head and he’s so fucking stupid he thinks again, but the thought is slipping around his head, unable to find traction in the hazy mess that’s in his head.

He’s gotta get out of here, gotta get somewhere he can breathe.

He doesn’t even know where he’s going, but he can’t breathe, he’s got to get out of his room, can’t stay in it. So Deran walks down the hall, stands at the end, tries to feel better. He can hear the soft sound of footsteps on carpet from deeper in the house.

He doesn’t feel better.

So he keeps going. Walks to the glass sliding doors, and then he’s outside, vans slipping slightly on the damp bricks around the pool. He should have brought his skateboard he thinks as he throws himself over the security gate. His knees bend as he lands heavily, feeling the jolt of the landing traveling up his bones, it doesn’t quite hurt but he can feel it. He’s walking again before he can think anything else, down the road, off the street their house sits on.

He’s not running – jesus christ deran, you can’t just run away every time you don’t want to do something Baz’s voice whispers meanly in his head -he’s not, he’s just. Walking.

He’s a couple of miles away before he thinks where the fuck are you going? He doesn’t have his wallet or his phone, but he can’t find the energy to care.

He’s just got to find a place to go. Things are weird with Adrian right now, now he’s suddenly gay. Deran doesn’t understand what that means, he knows what it means, but what does that mean for them? He can’t go to Adrian’s like he’d usually do. Can’t go to the beach in case he’s there. He doesn’t want to see Adrian’s wide eyed look of pity, can’t stand to think about it, to be anywhere near Adrian when Deran’s feeling like he’s been pulled apart and put back wrong.

His feet take him to the shittier part of town, where some of the windows are boarded up and the buildings all stack up next to each other like they’re leaning against the next for support, one quake away from coming tumbling down.

He stops in front of a door. He’s never been here but he thinks he knows it.

There’s a doorbell and it makes a distorted ringing noise when he presses it. So he presses it again.

And again.

And again.

And aga- the door is ripped open, “What?!” Julia shouts before she’s even looking, her hand white knuckled on the door’s edge. Her eyes narrow as she sees him. “Deran? What do you want?”

He doesn’t want anything. Not really.

Julia’s eyes are glassy and he hopes she’s high enough to not slam the door in his face. She looks suspiciously around like maybe Smurf is somehow hiding down the hallway.

He thinks he should say something, anything, it’s been a year since he’s seen his sister, he should say something.

“Are you alone? What are you doing here, Deran?” She asks again.

Deran feels himself shrug, feels the cotton of his t-shirt shift with his shoulders. Julia looks around again, she looks just like she did a year ago screaming for them to all go fuck themselves, that she was never coming back, maybe she looks a bit more bonier, more tired, he should say something.

Julia looks down at him and sighs, then steps back and lets the door swing wide enough to be considered a come in.

He walks past her, doesn’t really look around, just find himself picking up some knock off robot toy off the couch. He can’t see Josh anywhere, can’t hear him. Is he here? Is he alone?

“He’s still in school, idiot, where you should be.” Julia says and Deran wonders if he said anything out loud.

He wants to ask for a shower, wants to wash off this mood he’s sunk into, but the idea of being naked here – anywhere – right now scares the shit out of him.

He blinks and he’s curled up on the couch, Deran thinks he feels her hand brushing his hair from his face, the weight of an itchy blanket drops on him and he lets the weight carry him to sleep.

He wakes and feels a little bit more alive. Someone’s petting at his hair, smoothing it where it’s rucked up from the way he’s burrowed into the couch.

“Mom?” he mumbles half asleep, but it can’t be Smurf. Julia? He thinks. But he can hear her voice, her laughing and talking somewhere across the room. He freezes, jolts up and scoots to the very end of the couch away from whoever’s touching him.

Angela’s high laugh sounds from the other end of the couch.

“You always had pretty hair.’ She says, her hand reaching out like she’s going to grab a handful of his hair. He jerks further back, willing to teeter on the couch arm to be that bit further away.

“I always wanted to be a blonde.” She says, stretching her arms to the sky, quest to touch Deran forgotten as she stands and wanders across to the kitchenette and whatever party favors Julia’s got spread out on the counter.

Because it is a party, he realizes, skin crawling as he notices all the people suddenly in Julia’s shitty two room apartment. Maybe not a Smurf level party, but eight or nine people fill the tiny living room, and they’re all just a skeevy looking as the people from the drug fueled parties Smurf likes to throw when she’s feeling old and mean.

Some creeper looms over him both like he’d been watching them, Angela petting at Deran or Deran sleeping, Creep all but tattooed across his thin face. Deran gets his feet under him, gets himself standing and plasters the ugliest look of disgust he’s capable of on his face. Guy looks like every dealer Deran’s ever met, skeevy with eyes lit up with a hunger that makes his skin crawl.

“He’s a friend!” Angela squeals with a laugh as she comes back, a squeezing hug for the dealer who smiles at Deran with black shark eyes.

Deran hopes Julia’s not stupid enough to consider her dealer a friend.

Deran stupidly looks away. When he looks back the dealer’s close to him, crowding him up against the wall. Deran looks wildly around for Julia, but there’s just strangers with laughing mouths and glassy eyes. He doesn’t even know if she’d help him if she saw, she lets people like this in the same house as her kid. The one she left home to protect. It’s weird knowing he doesn’t trust Julia to have his back here. He used to, he thinks, when did that change?

“You’re Julia’s brother?” The dealer asks, his voice low and whispering, and Deran shifts backwards as he sways closer, trying to keep the distance. “Pretty enough to be her sister with those eyes.”

Everyone always call him pretty, pinch his face, touch his hair, he fucking hates it.

His mouth is full of saliva, Deran feels like he’s gonna throw up. But he’s not some stupid kid, so he lifts his chin up pulls his face into the sneer that makes Pope come at him with clenched fists. One that’s garnered him more slaps from adults than all of his vicious words combined.

He spits all that excess saliva and watches as it lands on the dealer’s shoe.

His face twitches, oh he wants to fight, Deran can see it sparking in his dead eyes, but he won’t. Not while Julia is still a viable meal ticket.

Deran’s fists clench anyway, people like him smile and charm then turn on you like a rabid dog.

“Fucking hell, Deran, chill, he’s just kidding.” Angela laughs, suddenly beside them Julia’s laughing too, they seem like the same person, look more like twins than Julia and Pope ever did. He hates them in this moment.

The dealer doesn’t look like he’s kidding, he’s got a hungry look lighting up his eyes from within. The same look Julia gets when she’s jonesing and hurting and would trade anything she could see for just one more hit. Hungry and mean. Dangerous.

He doesn’t say anything, just squares his shoulders, he’s not a big kid but he can hold his own well enough.

The stand off doesn’t last long, the dealer eventually just gives a mean laugh, wraps an arm around Angela’s neck and whispers in her ear. She’s laughing as they turn away, to get a drink, to get higher, to fucking fuck, Deran doesn’t know, doesn’t care. Julia’s looking at him like he’s harshing her vibe, ruining her good time, like she doesn’t know why she opened the door to him to start with.

He doesn’t know either.

Why the fuck did he even come here?

She catches him at the door, one hand catching his arm, pulling him up short like he’s five not fourteen.

“Jesus Christ when are you going to grow up?”

“Why don’t you just come home?” He asks stupidly and Julia’s hand is on his face.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” she says with a laugh as her nails pinch into his skin. “because you’re pretty fucking stupid.”

He pulls away, stumbling backwards into the hall outside her apartment

She thinks she’s better than Smurf but she’s exactly the same. They all are. Just take take fucking take.

He hated that she got out. When she left, when she left all of them behind, never looking back. He hated her. But Deran thinks maybe he hates her more for getting out and just making the same fucking mess of her life, Smurf no longer pulling her strings but she’s still got nothing, she’s just as hungry and desperate as before, the only difference is now she’s alone.

Deran won’t be like that. If he’s gonna get out, he’s gotta have a plan, he swears to himself, he’s gotta have something. Deran doesn’t know what that is, he thinks as his feet take him back to the familiar streets near home, but he can wait, he can bide his time. When he gets out he’s gonna get out, he’s not going to trade one hell for another, he’s going to have a plan, he’s going to make it.

[lightsandlostbells]

Skam France season 3, episode 8 reaction

Not gonna lie, I kept thinking “they must taste like ham” during the love-making scene

Episode 8

Clip 1 - Morning after 

Lucas wakes up, still with splotches of paint on his body. I guess he washed off some of the paint, but not that well? I have so many questions about how they got home, like did they manage to get into the locker room to take a shower before leaving the school, or did they just go home covered in paint? 

Anyway, Lucas is alone and checks his phone. His father says their mom wants to go to mass with them next week, so there’s your O Helga Natt clip. I’m trying to think about the religious references in this season. They’ve definitely been carrying through with Lucas’ mom being religious; I’m not sure there has been more in the way of religious symbolism? Luke is a Biblical figure but I’m not sure there’s any connecting with Lucas’ character the way Isak was connected to Biblical Isaac through the 21:21 reference. Not that it means O Helga Natt shouldn’t happen at a church, just that I think you could potentially set the scene somewhere else that’s more in line with what symbolism there is in this season (light and dark).

WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE. Was he on the couch???? In the living room??? Wh- why? So they went back to Lucas’ placed and crashed, covered in paint and seemingly naked (since Lucas is shown putting on his boxers), on the sofa in his living room? At the apartment where he has three other roommates coming and going? The FUCK.

Doesn’t Eliott live by himself? I thought someone involved with the show said that. Why did they not go to his place where they can be alone, rather than going to Lucas’ where they have to crash on the fucking couch? Even if Eliott does live with his parents or whoever, presumably he has a bedroom with, you know, a door. 

I guess after you fuck in public at your school when there are people around, cuddling naked together in your living room where your roommates might see is no big deal at all. Get over it, prudes.

This is one of those times when I think Skam France still sticks to the original script too much, like obviously this part is here because Isak woke up alone after Even spent the night and heard Even in the kitchen. Lucas’ living situation (aka living on his goddamn couch) doesn’t really accommodate for that without some weirdness. So they could have revised this scene a bit - either send them to Eliott’s place rather than Lucas’, or have Lucas actually get his bedroom back by now (why is he still on the couch anyway????) or just have them clothed. Or you could have something where Eliott didn’t sleep over, and Lucas wakes up on the couch smiling about the previous day, except then he hears Eliott’s voice in the kitchen. Surprise! Eliott came over early to surprise Lucas with breakfast, and Manon let him in. And it could be shown as a sign of his mania, maybe, like it’s cute but Eliott came over way too early with way too many ingredients and it’s just a little too intense, it feels off.

Anyway, Lucas hears giggling from the kitchen, and of course Eliott is cooking and talking to the roommates. He’s making a fennel and cinnamon omelette. He kisses Lucas and Mika and Manon exchange a proud look. No more interventions are necessary.

Eliott also wants to make blueberry bacon muffins and Manon is all WTF about it, because she is lucky enough to live in a country where people apparently weren’t putting bacon in every single food product for a few years. 

Mika and Manon pretend they didn’t hear anything from Eliott and Lucas when they came in, but Lisa enters and is like, yes, I did hear you fucking. So they were for real fucking on the couch? I’m just imagining like, Manon wanting a glass of water last night but being unable to leave her bedroom, just waiting for the moans to stop.

Lisa tells Manon to give her room to Lucas since he has a sex life and Manon doesn’t. Cold, but accurate, and also, Manon should give her room back since it’s not hers in the first place and Lucas was clearly distraught over it in the last episode. C’mon. At least take turns.

When the roommates are gone, Lucas says he thought Eliott left this morning (or like … one minute ago), like he did with Lucille. We get this conversation with a big gap between them as Lucas talks about Eliott making out with Lucille at Chloé’s party. Eliott closes the gap and takes Lucas’ face in his hands when he says that Lucille knows him well and made him believe they had to get back together, and Lucas wasn’t ready. Eliott was afraid Lucas wouldn’t want anything serious, Lucas says he does, and Eliott says good, because he’s not going anywhere right now. They kiss.

Eliott comes across as rather self-assured here. Even seemed very vulnerable when Isak called him on the situation with Sonja, and his attitude got very weird and harsh. He wasn’t even looking Isak in the eye as he complained about her; he only looked back when he was asking Isak to understand what he meant. Part of the scene felt very, very fragile for both of them. By contrast, while Lucas here seems uncertain, Eliott seems pretty confident. Although he’s telling Lucas about something that made him uncertain at the time, in the moment he seems to have gotten over it. Either that or he’s completely burying his fears, because I don’t see a hint of doubt or defensiveness.

Also, in the original scene, there were hints that Even was manic. I guessed it from my first viewing, watching the scene in unsubtitled Norwegian, just based off Even’s energy and emotional shifts, and then with the subs we could see how he got distracted, his mind was racing a bit. I didn’t really feel like they were signaling Eliott was manic yet, other than the lines about him going to the fridge and wanting to bake everything. Eliott just seems comfortable in what’s happening. (I’m not blaming Maxence for this, I think his acting is pretty solid, honestly.)

They obviously did not do their version of the Gabrielle lip-syncing, and while I don’t mind if they choose not to, for time constraints or not wanting to copy OG or just not feeling it for the characters, I can’t help but feel a bit bereft that I did not see more of Eliott’s awkward EDM dancing.

Clip 2 - Ass = art

I am honest to God laughing that they hyped up that previous mural as the ugliest shit ever, and then Lucas and Eliott literally threw some paint over it and it’s suddenly acceptable. Oh my God. Different strokes for different folks and all, but you can still see the original goddamn mural!!! It’s not even totally covered up!!!

Plot twist: whoever originally painted that mural in like the ‘90s or whatever also did it while having sex against the wall. And the plucky artists who will paint over Lucas and Eliott’s mural in like 2034 will be doing it as part of an orgy. Why even bother having a mattress when you have a paint-splattered wall to hump against?

I think it’d be a pretty display if it it were not half-assed. It’s not even covering all of the existing mural. They should’ve whole-assed it. Much like they whole-assed everything else on Friday.

Lucas is like, sorry we didn’t go with what was planned. Was there a plan? Because it absolutely came across like the boys just showed up to paint whatever image popped into their heads.

OH MY GOD THERE WAS AN ACTUAL ASS PRINT ON THE WALL

AND THEY DON’T EVEN MAKE UP A LIE ABOUT IT

Eliott’s like, Sorry about that! And he and Lucas kiss. Oh my God, this is ridiculous. I’m happy for your love and all but I legit cringed at that part, it’s too much. I guess if I think about it like how Even said it was good the boys left when Even showed up at Isak’s house, it’s the same thing? Except that’s a lot vaguer than like, yep, we left ass prints on the wall, our butt cheeks were used as sponges. I suppose it’s odd that everyone’s just like ... completely un-weirded out by this admission. (🐭🐭🐭)

Daphne is happy because the common room was decorated by a gay couple, so that made it cool, and objectively that’s not a great thing to say but I confess it make me laugh, because what a Daphne thought. Imane is like, why do we let it slide when Daphne says stuff like that? Good question. I guess because Daphne’s enthusiasm is pretty charming if you just tune out her words themselves.

Eliott is like, we gave it body and soul … you sure did give it your body, as Daphne observes.

Imane says she’s happy for Eliott and Daphne asks if Imane and Eliott know each other. They smile at each other. Precious. So we’re getting that storyline in S4, let’s hope they do a decent job with it. It could be improved.

Lucas gets a text from his dad about going to mass. Dad guilts him, telling him to think of his mother. Lucas texts back that he’ll go to mass with his boyfriend. We don’t get an answer immediately from the dad, like with Isak; Lucas just tells him and looks over to his boyfriend smiling and laughing with the girls, like he doesn’t care what his dad says in that moment, he’s just going to enjoy being happy with Eliott. He gives Eliott a back hug, it’s very sweet.

Clip 3 - Boy squad = cheerleaders

Basile is talking about sending a song to a girl, presumably Daphne, because this is hell. She didn’t reply. Dude. Take the fucking hint. 

I know I keep complaining about this a million times per post, but I keep being annoyed at Skam France for adding yet another no-means-yes romance where a girl’s stated disinterest is continually ignored by a guy. We already had Noorhelm/Marles. And Vilde/Magnus, whatever you think of them, didn’t have this crap tainting their courtship. 

The boys run into Eliott who looks happy. Lucas proudly introduces Eliott as his boyfriend, without any insecurity, and the boys erupt in cheers like this is one of those videos where everyone’s watching as a kid is opening his email and learning he got accepted to Harvard (🐭🐭🐭). I mean, it is cute that the boys react so positively! I don’t want to discourage straight boys cheering on their gay friend getting a boyfriend. Go wild, throw some confetti, bake a cake.

Basile says Lucas made the boys bolt on Friday and is upset he didn’t get to paint. I feel like Basile’s “misunderstood genius” left uninterrupted would definitely have resulted in several big-tittied anime girls on that wall. The boys invite Eliott to the park on Wednesday. Eliott agrees to go even though Lucas points out he has class then. I guess maybe that’s a sign of Eliott being manic? Maybe? Like he doesn’t care about school and is being reckless? 

Basile makes an incest joke. Not his first in the season.

The boys really do seem cute running away, I love Arthur’s moves! But again, I am never letting that “it’s not Disneyland” comment go, because everything is so shiny-happy. It’s not just positive in a realistic way, it’s that song that from The Lego Movie. With Isak, he was still shy after he came out to his friends because you know, he was a human being and turning off internalized homophobia wasn’t like flicking a light switch. He got more comfortable over time. And the boys were very excited to meet Even but in a chill, non-OTT way (even Magnus).  

With content like this, I do think it is valuable to show exceedingly positive social support for a gay teenager coming out and getting a boyfriend, like I do feel a little bad having any nitpicks about this. Likewise, I hate to have any reservations about Lucas getting so totally open and affectionate with Eliott so fast, because this is the end goal, obviously, we want to see Lucas happy and thriving and out and proud. You could make the argument that now he knows his friends accept him, he can let go of his insecurities in full (I don’t know how I feel about that because I don’t think Lucas’ problem was solely about whether his friends would accept him, for instance the Pride scene was more about internalized homophobia). And I do think they wanted to make Lucas as happy as possible this week before bringing him down at the end of the episode, for the impact. But combined with stuff like treating his outing as no big deal, and cleaning house last week and putting the Chloé and Imane clips in that episode so we got those conflicts and plot threads out of the way, and then how Lucas is so 100% okay with announcing Eliott as his boyfriend and joking about their sex life and kissing him and embracing him in public, all of this right off the bat ... to me it almost feels like they wanted to skip over the inner conflict, any hesitation or lingering insecurities, and just get straight to the cuddly ship content. And I mean, I approve of cuddly ship content! It just seems a little pat? You can make something idealistic and realistic. I guess Skam resolved some conflicts easily, too, but I felt like Isak’s character development was gradual and earned, whereas Lucas’ lacks some nuance here. 

Lucas gets a phone call and it’s from Lucille. I find it kinda weird we didn’t even hear her voice because that would be Lucas’ POV in this important moment. Eliott talks to Lucille and it doesn’t really seem like… alarming like it did with Even, that rapid change in mood. He just sounds annoyed that she’s calling Lucas and he told her not to. 

Lucas asks why Lucille called, Eliott is like IDK, to bullshit you. Which honestly, seems like a reasonable enough response? I don’t get why Lucas looks at Eliott like Eliott is the one bullshitting him. It’s not nice but Eliott’s ex calling Lucas just to harass him or tell him to stay away is not a thing that’s all that unusual, it happens. Even was a lot harsher in attitude and weirder in what he said (”she doesn’t like people who live free and genuine”). Anyway, then Eliott says Lucille can’t control him (Eliott) anymore and is trying to go through Lucas. Eliott kisses Lucas, plays with his hair (which seems to be their Thing, which is adorable), kisses him again, leaves, comes back for another kiss. He pulls an Even and walks off backwards. Lucas blows him a kiss after he’s gone. Well, that’s the cutest thing I’ve seen from Lucas so far, and very endearing.

Clip 4 - Het drama? In my S3? It’s more likely than you think

Everyone, both boy and girl squads are having a picnic. There’s a cool effect where someone wipes away the time card as they walk through the frame, I don’t remember seeing anything like that before on Skam France or any other remake. Stuff like that is just a fun way to play with the format.

Is that the same lake as the one in the first clip of the season? Would be nice to call back, since Lucas was feeling detached back then, and now he’s surrounded by friends and literally lying in his man’s arms. Speaking of, Lucas and Eliott are a little ways off from everyone else, and like I said, Lucas is being cozy in Eliott’s arms. They talk about doing something this weekend; Eliott mentions that Lisa blacklisted him from the flatshare and I DO NOT BLAME HER after what happened on that couch. Although I guess you could say the other flatmates deserve it after relegating Lucas to the sofa. 

Eliott mentions his parents will be there that weekend. Wait, so I thought he lived alone? Didn’t someone involved with the show say that? Guess I was wrong. Or are his parents just coming to visit? Anyway, obviously this is setup for them getting a hotel room or whatever their version is. 

Okay: absolutely fucking ridiculous that this 4-minute clip features less than a minute actually focused on Lucas’ POV, in Lucas’ season. At the end of the season? Sure, absolutely, we’re wrapping up the season’s storylines and giving everyone some closure and/or setup for the next season. Switching POVs is perfectly fine then. But in the middle of the season??? What’s more - in the middle of episode 8??????? The end of episode 8 is a hugely important turn of the story. It twists everything we know about the Even character on its head, it’s an intense scene, even frightening. It should have us looking back, noticing the signs we didn’t know were there on first viewing. This is one of the worst times they could cut for an interlude about everyone else - let alone for crappy het romance drama.

They could’ve used these three minutes to hint at Eliott’s mania! Or put in some content about Lucas’ parents, especially with Lucas’ mom since he’s going to come out to her soon! You can even keep the picnic with everyone else, just have Eliott doing or saying something that in retrospect is a big-ass pile of foreshadowing. Considering this week has been very light on those hints so far, this would have been a perfect opportunity. At the very least, if you need that mandatory girl squad content, we could have seen all this het romance through Lucas’ eyes, like he’s not even in the scene with these people, really? It’s not like he’s watching or listening to them, he and Eliott are in their own little bubble. So just stay in the bubble with them, or let others into their bubble, or don’t have them in the bubble - they can be cuddling closer to everyone else and interacting with them. 

Keep in mind that there was no French “5 fine frøkner” either, lmao. They cut that out and we got this scene instead. And like I said, I’m totally fine with the kitchen sing-along not being there, but if what we get instead is shit that has nothing to do with Lucas and isn’t even from his POV, to focus on a bunch of (terrible) m/f pairings ... then I’m going to get exasperated.

Basile worms in between Emma and Daphne, like legit shoves Emma to the side. Daphne is reading a book. Basile tries to make small talk, Daphne ignores him (as she well should) and talks to Emma over him. Basile asks her out for coffee, Daphne is like, I’m studying. With a respectful human being, the conversation would end here. It’s appalling to me that even these little moments are chock full of Basile’s entitlement! Daphne says she’s reading, so either a) she is genuinely trying to enjoy her book or get some homework done or b) she just really doesn’t want to talk to Basile or c) both but IN ANY CASE he needs to get the fucking picture, she is not interested in continuing this conversation. I had to vent after I saw this scene because I’m just astonished by how thoroughly awful this relationship has been depicted, like they are hitting ALL the typical entitled dude moments. 

Anyway, welcome to hell. Arthur gives Basile the signal to keep going (and Arthur’s on my shit list, too, for enabling this behavior - like lol, here’s toxic masculinity for you). Basile asks if she heard the song he sent her. Daphne is like … the song with the deeply inappropriate lyrics? So not only is he continuing to bother her when she wants to be left alone, but the song he sent he was overly sexual? GEE WHY WOULD ANYONE THINK THIS IS HARASSMENT.

Arthur and Yann chide Basile for sending such a forward song, Yann told him to be less upfront so Daphne would want him. Yann is on my shit list, too! Stop encouraging this creepy behavior! This is like a textbook study of how guys enforce toxic masculinity, for real, because Arthur and Yann know full well that Daphne has said no a million times, she said no again 10 seconds ago while the boys were right there, and yet that’s not enough for them, either. They’re not telling Basile to back off.

Basile is like, what’s the point, no one wants me, and gets up and walks away. Lol, so this shit is about Basile’s poor feelings. Not Daphne’s, not how she felt when Basile was trying to hump her on the dance floor or never the shutting the fuck up about how he wants her. Basile being sad because he did a creepy thing and it wasn’t well-received. Of course. (I seriously think you could write that moment of him saying no one wants him in a way that’s poignant and sympathetic, but you have to build it up in a way where we can feel sorry for him without caveats. If you wanted me to feel sorry for him, don’t write him as persistently going after a girl who has said she’s not interested!)

Yann and Arthur talk to Daphne and are like, he probably didn’t even read the lyrics! Er, not Daphne’s fucking fault that Basile was lazy. The song was titled “May she love me.” The boys are like, how cute! OF FUCKING COURSE Daphne smiles a little after that as she looks at Basile walking off. The boys encourage Daphne to give him a chance. OF FUCKING COURSE men are telling a woman to give a poor guy a chance after she’s already said no over and over again. 

Did anyone realize this is some Nice Guy nonsense, too? That Basile, he’s really a decent guy! He’s so sweet and nice with his well-intentioned song choice! So why doesn’t Daphne give him a chance, hmm? I mean Basile is such a Nice Guy and yet no one will love him.

I’m sorry I cannot stop talking about this but it is astonishing how much crap they have packed into every goddamn scene of this nonsense. This is a man’s fantasy, this is a woman’s nightmare. Actually, no, - it’s women’s reality, because it happens often enough that men don’t give a shit about our boundaries and our rejections (however firm or polite) that this is a whole subset of feminist discourse, that we have terms like Nice Guy because these attitudes are so prevalent they merit a common phrase, that almost every woman has stories about some dude who wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Manon’s hat

That’s the comment, Manon’s fucking hat

The other girls are messing with Romain about period blood, heh. Manon goes after Emma when Emma walks off. (We get treated to yet more dialogue from Yann and Arthur trying to persuade Daphne to give Basile a chance, siiiiiiigh. Let the girl read her book!) Emma is bummed because Raptor Alex didn’t respond to Emma’s invitation and he’s seeing another girl tonight. Emma also slept with another guy, Manon is impressed by how she can do that. But Emma said it sucked with that other guy and that with Alex the sex was good, it was just that when he opened his mouth that she was turned off. Lmao, Emma, some things just aren’t meant to be that serious? He’s good in bed but he’s not that interesting of a person. It’s fine. Either keep your FWB thing going or find someone you can bang while also having stimulating conversations or whatever.

Emma says Manon and Alex have more to talk about than she and Alex, and that she saw them the other day. Talking about Charles, obviously. Emma lets on that she knows something is wrong with Manon, and she’s waiting for Manon to talk about it. This scene’s a lot like the talk between Yann and Lucas in episode 5, except somehow I don’t think Emma is going to walk away once Manon opens up.

Manon says it’s complicated with Charles and she doesn’t know if he’s coming back. Emma says she’ll wait for Manon to open up. Manon gets teary. Apart from the fact that this is not in Lucas’ POV, and that this is about crappy straight pairings, on its own this is a really nice interaction between the two of them.

But can we talk about how absolutely awful the het pairings on this show are? We have Manon/Charles with their ramped-up alpha male crap in S2 and then what he did to Manon in London, which was despicable. We have Emma/Alex, who are functional as fuckbuddies but have no real intellectual or emotional connection (fine for what it is, but don’t tell me this is supposed to be a real romance). We have Alex/Romain, the bi girl with the boyfriend who’s fetishizing her and asking her for a threesome the minute after she comes out to him, basically. She seems done with him already, like she’s just dating him out of habit now. And we have Basile/Daphne, at the very bottom of the trash heap. I want Imane to have a love interest who’s genuinely great and who deserves her, but seriously, the bar is so low that French Yousef could basically lie on the ground and roll over it.

Clip 5 - Boat bangin’

Eliott leads Lucas to his surprise at the docks. There’s some cute banter with them; they do have nice chemistry when they’re directed well and allowed to be free with each other (when it’s been off I chalk that up to scenes being rushed more than the actors, but it hasn’t been often). Missed opportunity to do something interesting with POV, though? The boat and the dock are shown immediately, but since Eliott is covering Lucas’ eyes, they could replicate the sense of surprise by not showing the boat right away, just have a closeup on Lucas and Eliott until Eliott tells him to look, so we see the reveal when he does.

Eliott shows Lucas that they’re on a boat and Lucas is stunned and happy. He asks how Eliott paid for the boat and Eliott just blows off that question and swoops in for a kiss, and I mean, when a face that pretty is that happy, are you going to question it? Maxence does seem to be doing a nice job with the manic signs here; he’s just a little elevated and giddy, and it could certainly just be excitement to be alone with his new boyfriend, but it also registers as slightly higher than Eliott’s usual range to me. 

Eliott yells about his hot boyfriend to the water and he and Lucas goof around, it’s very cute. Lucas says no one has ever done anything like this for him. Awwww. But also, you understand why he’s letting the question of how Eliott paid for the boat slide. He’s just thrilled to be with him and touched by the grand gesture.

Inside the boat, Eliott pours champagne for him and Lucas. It’s not real champagne, as it turns out. I do like how this scene is shot, I don’t like a lot of Skam France’s directing but this is working for me. The scene on the deck was beautiful like a romantic movie scene, like it’s supposed to feel for Lucas, a combination of light and dark. But now the darkness inside the boat feels a little more stifling, in my opinion. I like that we see them from the side, considering each other. 

Eliott tells Lucas to try to eat some Italian ham, and I do like how Lucas is playacting like they’re living it up and being fancy. It’s a good thing because there is no fucking way on this planet that eating that ham is a sexy move. It is the opposite of sexy.  Eliott snatches ham from Lucas. Even the literal male model cannot make eating ham look sexy. Lucas describes the ham in sensual detail. Lucas says that it’s so good, you’d have thought Eliott cooked it. Eliott laughs and there’s a long look, which gets kind of intense? There’s something lingering in the air. I guess I was wrong, because these two seem immensely aroused by eating ham. Okay. No judgment. Glad you two found each other.

Eliott lights a cigarette, and like smoking kills and all, but objectively way sexier than eating ham. He shotguns with Lucas like Lucas did with Chloé in episode 1, except Eliott is way more skilled at it and obviously this is way sexier/more fulfilling to Lucas. Lucas is ready to fuuuuuuuuck. 

They smile at each other, very fond of each other, in love, and then we cut to the sex scene. To Skam France’s credit: they’re not shy or coy about showing the gay intimacy. The actors seem to be pretty naked. Stuff happens.

I personally don’t find this kind of sex scene terribly sexy, because the mechanics of bodies are less interesting to me than the characters’ emotions during the scene, usually (unless there’s something really unusual or notable going on, lol). The Evak hotel clip happened to be the exact kind of TV/movie sex scene I like: more suggestive than explicit, more focused on their faces and their expressions. With Lucas and Eliott, I give massive props to the actors for going this far with each other, and they’re not shy or uncomfortable, but I also wish we saw more of their expressions so this scene felt like them and not any two bodies going at it? But anyway, again, not a flaw of the scene, just a personal preference.

Anyway, in the afterglow, Lucas looks totally fucked into contentment and says he wants to live his life on the barge. Eliott says he does too and starts talking about renting it for the wedding and getting lots of ham and crisps, ONLY ham and crisps for their wedding. Lucas thinks that sounds like a disappointing wedding menu. Eliott starts eagerly rambling about how their wedding will be so great that everyone will only want ham and crisps at their weddings and caterers will go out of business and somehow Trump is involved because ham isn’t enough of a boner killer, we gotta have Trump mentioned, too. Lucas is kinda amused, with a trace of “huh.”

He talks more about the Ham Cold War and going off on a barge and the sound effect from the Skam hotel clip happens, or at least there’s this low rumbling like it might almost be the motor or mechanics of the boat? Whatever it is, it’s ominous, it signifies this conversation getting less goofy and idealistic, more like reality crashing on Lucas as he realizes something’s off about Eliott.

I like how they shot Eliott in this scene. He’s facing that camera and we’re very close to him, so it adds to the intensity of what he’s saying. The editing is also slightly choppy, some cuts between what Eliott is saying, it’s fractured and disjointed like the thoughts in his head, harder to follow.

Eliott just keeps going with this story, like he’s writing a novel in his head involving Trump and making friends with a drug lord and having to deliver weed via boat globally. Like, the kind of thing that could be just messing around, inventing a funny story, except for intense Eliott is about it. It’s making him crack up, he can’t stop laughing. And he doesn’t notice (or care) that Lucas isn’t really following or participating in this story, Eliott is off on his own adventure.

Lucas is just like … wow. Now confused. Either Eliott is drunk as fuck or there’s something really strange happening.

Eliott lies beside Lucas and asks about the Eliotts and Lucases in parallel universes. Then he says they should die tonight. RECORD SCRATCH. Lucas is taken aback to say the least. Why would Eliott say that? Eliott kisses Lucas on the forehead and says he’s kidding. He snuggles up to Lucas and Lucas is bothered. I mean, yeah, who wouldn’t be after your boyfriend casually suggests a double suicide? This ain’t Romeo + Juliet. (Although honestly, I feel like this might be more in line with Even’s characterization, since he’s the one who thinks “the only way to have something forever is by losing it” which would go along with the idea of dying at one’s peak, and he’s also the one making references to death or suicide throughout S3. Eliott doesn’t really talk about death or suicide, as far as I can remember?)

Clip 6 - Ship sinking

It’s later, Lucas is sleeping. He wakes up and Eliott is sitting by the side of the bed watching him. If you didn’t know the twist, you might think Eliott lured Lucas out to this boat to murder him. And here I thought Lucas was the one with the serial killer vibe. Lucas asks if he ever sleeps. Er, have we gotten a ton of hints that Eliott doesn’t sleep? I mean thinking about it, there was no reason for Eliott to be asleep in the cuddle scene in episode 5, because their make-out was in the middle of the day. Not unusual for him to stay awake. Did he say something in the kitchen scene that implied he hadn’t slept? We also didn’t get any middle of the night texts, as with Even. But Eliott says he can’t sleep with someone this hot in the bed. He sounds deadly somber when he says it, though. Lucas smiles and goes back to sleep.

Cut to later. Somewhat blurry lens because Lucas is drowsy and it represents his hazy state of mind. Eliott is naked and lacing up his sneakers. He says he’s going for a swim. Bare ass. Lucas is about to fall back asleep when he’s like … wait a second. He gets dressed, runs around the boat looking for Eliott and calling his name.

Was there a splash? I didn’t hear one. Better if there wasn’t a splash, but then you have no idea where Eliott is. And for Lucas, hearing that whole thing about “let’s die tonight” is going to make him panic even more.

Lucas is yelling and in tears, he calls Lucille. Axel does a nice job here. There’s the sound of police/ambulance/whatever those sirens are in the background, so did they find Eliott? Or are they just thematic at the moment? (The sirens were in the original Skam scene, too.) Lucas asks Lucille to come. Lucas screams and freaks out, he’s shaking.

Lucille shows up on the boat and Lucas tells her what happened. He;s more angry and upset and spitting than Isak, which makes sense with Lucas’ temper. But he’s also unraveling and in tears. Lucas describes how Eliott said he was going for a swim, and he doesn’t think Eliott jumped, but he was naked. 

Lucille says they have to hope the cops find him. When Lucas says he doesn’t understand, Lucille screams at him that Eliott is bipolar and broke into the barge. Lucas is like … he said he rented it. Lucille is like, for fuck’s sake, how do you think he paid for it? I dont know, is it totally out of the question Eliott has rich parents who give him a sizable allowance? I assumed Even just charged way too fucking much for that hotel suite or that he wiped out his savings or something, and Eliott could’ve done something similar. Though granted, I don’t know how much a weekend in a French barge costs. Anyway, I guess the point is that Lucas was so wrapped up in the fantasy that he didn’t bother to ask for further details, which is true.

Lucille asks if they smoked, pissed a hell. Lucas says just a little. Lucille says it makes Eliott sick and is bad for him. I mean, as I said about the Skam scene -that’s not Lucas’/Isak’s fault, that’s on Eliott/Even to know what he can and can’t do.

The way they lit and framed Lucille in this scene makes her seem kinda villainous, tbh. Or at least more dominant - it appears like she’s literally looking down at Lucas. I mean, she is very tall, heh.

Lucille gets a call, they’ve found Eliott. Lucas questions if they should call his parents, Lucille is like YES they should, obviously, he was naked in the street after he broke into a barge and he was smoking weed. I cannot disagree with Lucille on this.

Lucas wants to go with Lucille, but Lucille says no, Lucas needs to stay away, Eliott doesn’t love him, he can’t love him, it’s just something inside his head. She says Lucas is nothing to Eliott, he’s just a passing craze. What Lucille doesn’t know is that Lucas ain’t no passing phase, Hakuna Matata. Lucas sits down and cries after she leaves. Deeply dramatic piano music plays as he sobs. It gets a little too soap opera-ish here at the end, although I get that it’s a very intense scene; I just think the impact would’ve been just as great if they dialed it to a 10 instead of an 11. But you know, it’s Skam France.

Yeah, they made Lucille way more of an OTT villain here. I have to assume they’ll give her chance to speak for herself and humanize her like with Sonja, but it felt they escalated her less from someone who was just frustrated and concerned to someone who was operating out of spite, especially with the way they structured the scene. Like Sonja had the “he doesn’t love you” part earlier and she wasn’t like spitting at him. Isak was in disbelief, and she just left him like she was fed up. But they saved that “he doesn’t love you” part here for the final insult, the last knife to the ribs, and they made it more intense, too, like YOU’RE NOTHING TO HIM. Okay, Lucille, we get the picture, you can go back to punishing those kids for eating your gingerbread house.

I was pretty worried that this scene was going to be overly dramatic verging on exploitative, considering Skam France’s tendency to go over-the-top. But actually I think this set of clips was fine, other than the very end which was too much for my taste. The acting was strong and there were some solid directing choices. My biggest criticism is that they could have hinted at Eliott’s mania more before this clip, and that there wasn’t so much foreshadowing for this scene, in my opinion. And with Skam it wasn’t just about the clues that Even was bipolar, either, but the buildup of tension that something was off. Things like Eliott’s texts in the middle of the night about random memes managed to feel ominous, because we knew Even wasn’t sleeping. There are some moments that arguably were supposed to be hints about Eliott being manic, but I didn’t feel like they were so different from the rest of the acting/writing/directing/pacing that they really registered. So overall: buildup weak, payoff good on its own.

Social Media/General Comments

Lucas is shown hacking into the sink from the omelette that Eliott made, but I’m not convinced it wasn’t the paint. He posts a picture of the eggs like “If I get food poisoning, you’ll know why” YES BECAUSE YOUR MOUTHS WERE GUZZLING ART SUPPLIES OFF EACH OTHER LAST NIGHT.

Lucas did like all the meaningful posts on Eliott’s secret IG, like sketches of the rain and piano.

Eliott sleeps and Lucas cuddles him while singing a cover of “Call Your Girlfriend.” Sick Skam reference! (Actually I think Skam France's OG homages are really sweet.)

Lots of Eliott and Lucas couple selfies, with cuddly captions like “Him” or comments like “raccoon <3 hedgehog” emojis. Eliott draws another sketch of their fursonas together in all parallel universes.

Skam France also did something where they posted the sketch with pictures of the three Evaks out at the time, (from Norway, Italia, and France) which was seriously very cute and respectful of them. 

Basile is wearing a Game of Thrones T-shirt (”Hodor Hodor Hodor”) in an IG pic and not to judge because I watch Game of Thrones myself, I’m literally wearing socks with the House Targaryen sigil on them right now, but yeah, that sounds about right for his character.

There’s also a dick print on the mural, it seems? For fuck’s sake, how could Eliott and Lucas possibly have any satisfying sex with paint slathered over their junk? Or did they wait until they were finished and just wiped off the paint by plastering their bodies against the mural? Maybe that’s how they cleaned themselves up. But how could you possibly get that good of a penis shape without just like ... dipping your dick into the bucket of paint itself? How could you position your dick and balls against the wall that way to get the imprint? Anyway, Alex and Emma have a bet over whose dick it is. I don’t think it’s anyone’s actual dick, Eliott and/or Lucas just thought it would be funny to paint something that looked like one. 

Lucas brings up the Lucille call in a text to Eliott, saying that maybe Lucille had something to tell him, and that Eliott told her to fuck off. Eliott brings up that it’s something they had in common: Eliott told Lucille to fuck off so he could be with Lucas, Lucas told his friends to fuck off so he could be with Eliott (on Friday in the foyer). Well. Not totally the same, Eliott, but I feel like this is almost a diversion from what Lucas wants to know. Eliott says sometimes you have to tell people to fuck off to live your life. Lucas seems appeased by this answer for now, because he doesn’t push the topic, just says he’s happy Eliott is going with them tomorrow to the park.

I am not French so please feel free to correct me on translation or cultural notes.

If you got this far, thank you for reading!

[emeraldwaves]

Title: And The Clock Ticks On Pairing:  Kacchako Rating: T Word Count:  1,599 Read on Ao3 Summary:  

Katsuki has one hour to see her.

Thanks to @youaremynewdream reading this over! I wrote this for @kacchakohaven ‘s prompt sweater weather.

It's been a year.

Her leg swings back and forth, the side brushing up against the ledge of the window seat. The sleeves of his long black sweater cover most of her hands. The ugly thing is far too big for her. Her tiny hands are wrapped around the steaming mug filled with apple cider, her favorite fall drink. She refuses to drink it during any other season. The mug steams, and Uraraka's gaze stays fixated on the droplets as they trickle down the window, the world foggy and gray outside.

You have one hour.

The rain patters and the clock in the living room ticks.

 tick, tick, tick

It's a gentle sound, but he hates it all the same. So fucking annoying. On the hour it chimes, one chime for one o’clock, two chimes for two, three for three and so on and so forth. It's a miracle he never punched it off the damn wall.

She sighs, and he sees the grip on her cup tighten. Her hands tremble against the ceramic mug. She hasn't taken a sip yet, probably too hot for her sensitive tongue.

"You hate that clock."

Her words pierce the silence, and he lets out a long sigh.

 "Of course I hate the clock! It's ugly as fuck!"

They only bought it cause she wanted it so desperately. He could never deny her the things she really wanted. She has a taste for the bizarre sometimes, ugly things she gets fixated on, unable to choose anything else.

The clock was one of those things.

 "The birds are cute, Katsuki! I like when they jump out and chirp!"

 "They're fucking ugly!"

 She giggles, and oh, fucking dammit, the sound resonates in his entire being, makes his heart tremble.

 "Too bad, so sad, we're getting it! It's going to look great in our new apartment!"

"You always let me win," she says. Her head drops against the wall, her brown locks brushing back to drape against the side of her face.

She places the cup down at her feet, deciding to ignore the drink for now. Idiot. Why did she even make the goddamn thing if she wasn't going to fucking drink it?

The truth is, he rarely let her win, she was just... good at convincing him things were good ideas. That wasn't her winning, it was them agreeing.

She tugs on the sleeves of his sweater, covering her small palms, and she presses them to her nose, burying her face in the thick, black sleeves.

She's wearing his sweater. It's not even one of the good ones. It's woolen, black and orange, like something someone bought at a thrift store for Halloween. Why the hell is she wearing it?

 "What the hell are you wearing Round Face?"

 "Do you like it?" she teases playfully.

 "It's my damn sweater..." he stares at her for a long moment. "And it's the fucking ugliest one."

 Her fingers curl around the sleeves, her cheeks puffing out into a pout. "Well good! I guess you won't care if I take it then!" she says, sticking her tongue at him.

 "Tch! Do whatever the fuck you want," he scoffs.

 He doesn't tell her he thinks it looks good on her.

"Somehow it still smells like you. Sweet, sugary... but manly," she giggles softly. "I'm glad you let me keep it."

Well, it's not like he can get it back.

Her gaze turns out the window again and she brushes her fingers against the cool glass. He sees the small pads on her fingers leaving a mark.

He loved kissing those tiny bumps.

She sighs and presses her hands to her eyes, the sleeves covering most of her face. He sees the way her body trembles, and she pulls her legs up to her chest, curling in on herself.

No...

He doesn't want to see this anymore.

 "Don't cry about that dumbass!" he yells.

 "I-I'm not crying!" she snaps.

 "Could've fooled me!" he yells, and the tears really start to fall.

 Fuck.

 He's such a fuck up. He never knows what to do when she cries, so instead he wraps his arms around her and covers her in his warmth. He wants to beg her to stop. Just... stop...

 She doesn't.

"I'm sorry..." she whispers, tilting her gaze to the sky. "I know you hate it so much when I cry. I-I've been really good about it, you know!" she says, fighting back immediately. "Tsu-chan and Deku-kun have been keeping me busy."

She sighs and leans her head in the corner of the window. "Sorry... I know you probably would hate me hanging out with Deku-kun so much," she says softly. "I wish you two had gotten along in the end."

Damn fucking nerd. Always comes back to him somehow. Fuck. Fuck! She's his girl... he should be holding her tight... protecting her from these tears she keeps fighting back.

Instead, he's the reason.

He imagines sitting behind her in the window seat, stroking his fingers over her hand, pressing his nose to the crook of her neck. The rain patters outside, and the damn clock ticks behind them. It's a scene he's familiar with, one he wishes he could replicate right now.

He wants to reach forward and stroke her cheek... do something, anything to show her he's here. It's not allowed. But since when has he cared about any sort of rules? What are they gonna do? Kill him?

Heh.

"Katsuki..." she whispers, and his name sounds so sweet on her lips, a much better sound than the last time.

 "KATSUKI!"

 Her scream echos in his ear when impact of the hit sends him shooting backwards, the piping in the debris impaling him straight through the chest.

 Tch. What a fucking pathetic way to go. But if he hadn't it would've been her. If he hadn't he would've watched her slip away right in front of him.

 This is much better.

 He blinks and she's by his side. "What the hell were you thinking?!" she gasps. Her eyes dart all over his body.

 "That's my line. Charging in alone... you dumbass-"

 "S-Shut up! Just shut up!"

 She's starting to sound more and more like him everyday.

 He shuts his eyes, feeling her hand trembling against his gloves.

 "I love you..." she says. "Katsuki, y-you can't..."

 "I love you too, Round Face."

 And he's starting to sound more and more like her too.

Sometimes his chest hurts. Like there's an invisible hole he can't get rid of. He wonders if it'll finally seal up when she dies, or if it'll ache forever, reminding him of his choice.

 tick, tick, tick

The clock chimes in the distance.

No.

There's so much he wants to do. Touch her, kiss her, hold her, rip that fucking ugly sweater right off of her.

The clock chimes again.

He adds pushing the damn clock off the wall to that list.

"I wanted to go visit the grave today..." she sighs softly. "B-But I know you would've been mad if I went out in the rain and got sick," she says. "I think Deku-kun and I will visit tomorrow. The rain is... supposed to stop by then. I want to see you. D-Don't be mad if I cry tomorrow, okay?"

The clock chimes another time.

 "I'm right here, dumbass!"

He opens his mouth to yell, panic seeping through his astral form, but as he expects, no sound comes out.

He's not supposed to touch her, or do anything to show her of his presence.

He doesn't give a flying fuck.

He steps forward, bringing his hand to her cheek. His fingers don't look real or solid... but her head turns and her eyes widen, her hand raising to her cheek. The sleeve of the sweater slips down her wrist and she stares into the abyss of the apartment, her eyes searching.

"Katsuki?" she whispers. Her voice soft, her eyes filled with a gentle hope.

He knows she won't see him, but he leans down anyway, and brushes his lips to hers. He can't feel them, but he remembers how warm they used to be, especially on a cold, rainy fall day like today.

Her eyes flutter shut, her hands raising, as if she can touch him too, cup his cheeks and hold him in her hands, like she always did before.

The clock chimes for a final time, the bird chirping loudly as they escape their timepiece prison.

"Fuckin' clock."

He silently curses, pulling away from her lips.

"Katsuki?!" she says again, pushing herself up, letting her feet brush against the floor. She looks as though she's about to stand up, her eyes darting around the apartment. Her fingers touch her lips, as though something had actually been there.

She stands up, deciding she can't possibly be crazy. Her tired brown eyes search again, for something... anything.

He wishes he could give it to her, but he's already disappearing, each particle of his astral form returning to whatever hell he's been trapped in without her.

She flops back down, her brown hair bobbing with the movement. "I'm an idiot," she says softly, glancing at the mug of cold cider. "You always said that, and yet... I... I love you anyway."

 "I love you too, Round Face."

He sees her bite her lips, turning back to the window as she tucks her knees to her chest, wrapping herself in his sweater.

And with that, he's gone. Hour’s up; probably won't be back.

The rain patters and the clock in the living room ticks.

 tick, tick, tick

[huangfilms]

Roommate!Jaemin

summary: so i found an eviction note on my door when i came home from a shift so i looked on a bulletin board in the lobby and i saw an ad for a roommate and that ad was from you, my really cute neighbor and i was wondering if that offer still stands???

requested by: a lovely anon ❤️ thanks for waiting patiently sweetheart !

(A/N) i have finished!!! thank you for waiting very patiently for this,,,,, i know i haven’t been on my A game recently but thanks for not rushing me JDJSJD anywho i love you thanks for requesting! ❤️ i hope u like this !!

it was midnight and you were absolutely slumped, stressed, and kind of angry

work really kicked your ass that night

working at a 24/7 diner sucked so much cause sometimes the people would come at odd times

and there were some snappy customers

that night during your shift there was a particularly rude customer that ruined your mood so you just really wanted to lay down in your bed

but once you go to your door you found an eviction note saying that they’re going to kick you out in a week if you don’t pay your rent

right then and there you could feel all of the stress from that day form into tears

so you open your door in a haste and c r y

because??? you don’t get payed until next week??? so you’re basically screwed

but you decide to try and sleep it off because you are way too tired for this and it’s your day off tomorrow anyway

when you wake up you forget about the eviction note but you remember when you go to make coffee since it’s sitting on the counter

you let out the Biggest Sigh ever

you leave the paper on the counter and then you go down to the lobby to see the bulletin board to see if there are any roommate papers or open apartments

when you look you see something

‘looking for a roommate! contact at +xxx-xxx-xxxx na jaemin’

and you recognize the name cause hey!!! that’s your neighbor!!!

you never really talked to him before, only the few nods of the head at each other when you see each other

he’s cute or whatever

anyway

you decide you’re going to ask jaemin if you could be his roommate cause that seems better than living on your own

smh rent is high these days what were you thinking of anyway HAHA

moving on though

you go back up and try to build up the courage to knock on his door

but you don’t even know if he’s home

you knock anyway, and about a few seconds later you can see jaemin’s bright smile

angels are singing

‘did you need something y/n?’

you get snapped out of your daze

‘uh i saw the ad of you needing a roommate, and i was wondering if that offer still stands??’

and he looks confused cause? you’re his neighbor w hat??

and you see the confused look so you start to explain to him that you just got an eviction note last night and you really don’t know where else to go 

your parent don’t live in the same country as you

your friends,,,,, uhhhh ??? very m i a i guess 

and you won’t get payed until next week so you start to really beg him to be his roommate

and he can see how stressed you are so he accepts

and you just give him such a big smile and he metaphorically melts to the ground

and you really don’t even have to pack anything the whole week you move your stuff into his apartment and get rid of a l o t of things

you just found out you were a hoarder LMAO

but anywho!! 

it takes a couple more days than planned to move everything into the other bedroom 

but it’s all good

so the day you finally moved everything into his apartment he asked if you guys wanted to go grocery shopping cause his your guys’ kitchen was empt y

but you declined cause you needed to fix and arrange some stuff in your new room

and hes all like no problem i’ll just ask a friend to go with me, i’ll see you in a few hours!! and he grins and locks the door

you didn’t even fix stuff you just knocked out cold onto your bed 

anyway fast forward it’s been a few days since you moved in

it’s been a lil awkward cause you guys don’t really interact with each other

your guys’ work schedules don’t match so hes always out when youre home and vice versa

so you never really get to talk with him

but!!! by some miracle your job/school schedules do match

and you guys FINALLY talk and break the VERY awkward tension

the dynamic in your house is so much better wow

sometimes when either of you couldn’t sleep you guys would venture out or just crash into the other’s room for the night

one time jaemin’s friend walked in on you guys cuddling in his bed cause he had a spare key

his friend (jeno) asked him about it a while later and jaemin was so blatant

‘oh we’re just friends’

‘mhm sure jan’

‘shut up jee-no’

so it’s been months now

(yes i time skipped sigh)

but anyway, jeno was still Skeptical cause?? friends don’t do all that couple stuff

literally everyone Been Knew you guys like each other except for:

oh right YOU GUYS.

you guys Flirt 25/8

even when its Not even necessary like when you’re hanging out with your friends

for example you’re having a movie night with the dreamies

‘jaemin sweetie can you get me something sweet’

and he nods and goes to the kitchen only to come back empty handed

and ur all like??? jaemin wheres My Snack

he just scoffs and goes ‘what are you talking about i’m literally right in front of you’

EVERYONE IN THE ROOM COLLECTIVELY GROAN S

bitch i would too the Fuck

you just snort and lightly push him on the shoulder before pulling him down to sit next to you

then on instinct he just wraps himself around you

everyone: confused

JDFHLASD 

but they don’t question you guys and just watch the movie

when you say you’re going to bed and leave the couch with a goodnight to them

jeno jumps onto the spot next to him

and he just goes ‘do you like them?????’

jaemin is so ??? cause wha t you’re just really close friends!!!!

jeno just looks him in the eyes and goes ‘not even a little bit??’

‘i’m sure’

and so jaemin just sits and thinks for a little though

cause hm,,,,, maybe he does like you-OH MY GOd HE LIKES YoU

and he has an internal breakdown cause oh my god???? what??? when???

not that there’s anything bad about you!!! he just,,, as cliche as it may sound

he doesn’t want to make anything awkward with you 

BUT ITS AWKWARD ANYWAY!!!

and so he decides: to take more shifts and study out at the library cause he doesn’t want to think about this

what he don’t know, is that you’re in your room thinking the s a m e thing blease talk to each other

so you!!! also take more shifts but you stay locked in your room as well

when the dreamies come over one day without a warning you’re both in your rooms just minding your own business

and so when they barge in they’re all like

????? where’s the couple?????

and so jaemin goes out and hes like oh why are you guys here LMAO

‘we wanted to watch movies?? it’s friday cmon go get y/n’

and so he just laughs a little awkwardly but he goes to you anyway

he knocks and goes ‘so uhhh the guys are here and we’re about to watch movies??? wanna hang out ??’ and in his head 

he’s just wondering when everything became so awkwar d

oh right when he realized that he likes you

but anywho you open the door and he does a little half smile that makes your stomach flip in a good way

and you smile at him too

when you guys go out though,,,,,

you sit on one end of the couch and jaemin sits on the opposite end

donghyuck sits in between the both of you

‘why aren’t you and jaemin sitting next to each other like usual????’ donghyuck asked you quietly to make sure no one else heard

cause He Knew

you just give him a side eye and you tell him ‘you already know why now Shut the movie is starting’

he leaves it be but in the middle of the movie he gets up to use the restroom

and then chenle says ‘move over i like sitting by the arm of the couch’

‘no just let me sit here’

chenle is just r eally confused ‘but you always sit next to jaemin b l e a s e y/n’

and thats how you two end up next to each other

jisung decides to squish in and so you’re pressed up against jaemin

you dont know who’s more uncomfortable : you or him

the room feels s o awkward and literally everyone feels it

and so you just ‘i’m gonna get something to drink anyone else want water???’

‘i’ll go with you’ and its jaemin standing up

‘i-i um no it’s oka-’

he just takes your hand and he leads you to the kitchen and behind the corner so they won’t see you guys

‘why are we being awkward??’

and you just shrug cause?? you guys literally haven’t talked for w e e k s you dumb bitc-

and he just goes is such a quiet voice

‘i miss you’

and your heart!!! palpitated!!! the hell!!!

‘i-i miss you too’

and so he just hugs you and says Really Confidently

‘i like you, be my baby’

and you !! are about to Faint! 

‘i-i,,,,i like you too’

and when you pull back he just ! kisses you really softly 

and you’re Red cause oh this is Really Happening Right Now

you guys walk back out of the kitchen (with the drinks) but you’re holding hands

you both are just :D

everyone knew what was happening cause you Guys Aren’t Quiet

just cause they can’t see you doesn’t mean they can’t hear you !!!!

and so they’re just like ‘congrats now shut the movie is still Playing’

you guys are So gross with each other 

everyone regrets everything

but anyway!!!

now that you guys are together!!! you guys smooch

you like to smooch his nose and he just laughs every time you do that

okay but when you study for smth you do it in your room cause he’s going to distract you

he still manages to do it

he sends you the Ugliest Texts

‘when u free bb 😳‘

‘we??? live??? together???’

okay but being serious!!!

he’s such a softie and he’s so happy that he gets to wake up next to you all the time

and ugh my heart! is hurting! 

since you guys live w each other its weird not seeing each other cause your schedules don’t match up sometimes

and jaemin is so :( 

and it makes you so :(

hes such a clingy one 

he flirts at all times of the day just to get a reaction out of you

but anyway

ugh roommate jaemin ! what a concept

there’s never a dull moment when it comes to him!!

Masterlist

[vankoya]

Extra Cheese, Please!

✽ Read the indecorous follow-up piece, Less Cheese, More Please!

Genre | Best Friends to Lovers / Housemates AU.

Pairing | Jeon Jeongguk / Feminine Reader.

Words | 9,524 words.

Conspectus | Jeongguk dislikes three things: 1. Having his Overwatch marathon nights interrupted, 2. Dealing with drunk people while he is sober, and 3. Cheesy ramyeon. His best friend slash housemate slash insufferable crush is the drunk girl with an incessant craving for super cheesy ramyeon who interrupts his Overwatch marathon night, and ultimately proves that the aforementioned meal looks just as gross coming up than it does when it is first in the bowl. 

Luckily, there is always a silver lining. Even in the worst of situations.

Warnings | Swearing. Alcohol. Vomiting as a result of being overly drunk. Sexual innuendos. Fondling. Jeongguk cannot deal with cleavage.

Jeongguk guesses that it is nearing one in the morning when his phone buzzes four times in succession. The vibrations occur no more than a few seconds apart against his balls, which is where the device has slipped down to nestle over the course of the past eight minutes.

He knows he should probably reach between his thighs and retrieve it to check the slew of texts that tickle his dick through a pair of grey sweatpants. He is also ninety-nine percent positive that he knows precisely who the sender is. But the military bomb payload is that fucking close to being at the Deadlock Gang’s cave hideout, just having passed Checkpoint B, and Jeongguk is quite possibly playing his best Escort game since he planted his sweet ass on the living room couch. The four instant ramyeon packets that he inhaled at eight o’clock are still burning off in his system. Well-needed fuel for a long, uninterrupted night of Overwatch.

Well, the chances of that peaceful gaming occurring were narrowed to considerably slim once a certain someone had slipped out of her bedroom and announced she was going out for cocktails. She had managed to breeze through the front door before Jeongguk could really have enough of an opportunity to stare at her magnificent ass in those jeans. But if his calculations were correct, he has made it through a solid five hours of tranquility so far.

When he sees the attacking team’s Lucio put up a sound barrier, Jeongguk cannot help but blast a grin of victory. He unleashes his McCree’s deadeye, obliterating the entire team. There is a triumphant shout that is echoed amongst his own teammates, and he nearly throws his goddamn PS4 controller at the television when he fist-pumps the air out of excitement. Through the headset, Yugyeom makes a comment amongst his hooting along the lines of: “McCree, that OP motherfucker!” while Jeongguk spams McCree’s: “I’m the quick, you’re the dead,” voice line over and over in the final seconds that the payload reaches its destination and the game comes to a close.

Earning play of the game was expected after the shit he pulled last minute. Though Jeongguk finds himself surprised when he gets ten votes out of the twelve players, considering the opposing team is currently shouting a stream of insults. Because yeah, McCree is overpowered as fuck. But the sheer laziness in him cannot bear the thought of having to train up on a different hero, at this stage.

“I’m out,” Jeongguk announces to Yugyeom as he reaches down to grab his phone, beginning to vibrate against his balls again due to his lack of response. Yugyeom laughs, the connection slightly static.

“Gotta get your girlfriend, huh?“

“Fuck you, not my girlfriend,” Jeongguk barks before exiting the main screen, albeit with a tiny smile, and then shifts his headset to sit around his neck. When he clicks the home button of his phone, he is greeted by a screen lit up with eight notifications, confirming two things.

It is definitely past one in the morning, and it is definitely who he was expecting to be.

Jeongguk gets his heart stuck in his throat, bites his tongue and stupidly grins at the last text that was sent, chest tight at the thought of her missing him. He can picture that dumbass drunk smile of her’s so clearly; a sight that he has seen enough times to have it burned into the very cells of his brain. It is the one thing that is beyond fucking adorable when paired with her glassy eyes, staring roundly at him while she perches that amazing ass on his lap. Right on the zipper of his jeans so that the jagged metal presses right against his dick and– Fuck, too far.

He chances a glance at his sweatpants and yeah, shit, he is a little bit hard now. Jeongguk slaps himself, firm enough to properly wake up from his unexpectedly lascivious daze, and then he quickly punches in his passcode.

He sputters and incredulously shakes his head, running a hand through his hair because hell yeah, she is a twelve alright. More than that even, a hundred in his books, if numbers had to define her. Maybe Jeongguk should not think such thoughts about his best friend of seven years slash university flatmate of two. But then again, her attractiveness is common knowledge amongst their friends and all those alike who encounter her. As clear as the sky is blue and the grass is green. Simply, Jeongguk is just confirming the obvious and nothing more than that.

Yeah, definitely nothing more than that. Totally still not semi-hard over the thought of her drunk smile, of all the boner-inducing things about her.

Before he can text her back, the theme song to Legend of Zelda is filtering through the living room and the ugliest photo he has of her is appearing blown up on the screen. The image is one that is zoomed right in on her face from where she breaches the ocean, pixelated by the added effect of it being a screenshot. The fast motion of her coming up after a wave had crushed her makes it appear as though her face is being dragged down by gravity; mouth parted in a gasp; completely wet hair plastered to her scalp, and presented at such an angle that she looks bald. 

It is fucking hideous. Jeongguk had laughed so hard that he peed himself a little the first time he noticed it in one of the snapshots that he had taken on his DLSR at the beach that day, and he never let her live it down. But they did come to a mutual agreement to not allow such a monstrosity to be released to the general public on an unfortunate Facebook birthday post, or as a tactic for revenge. Otherwise, Jeongguk would similarly be having a picture of himself exposed as far as the eye can see. The one where he is slumped backwards over their coffee table, blacked out and wearing nothing but a pair of her pretty pink panties, the tip of his sad and soft dick poking out the leg hole.

Jeongguk stares at the caller ID photo a moment longer, eyes watering with hilarity before he swipes his finger across the screen to answer with, “Well, well, if it isn’t–“

“Th–The sexiest motherfucker you know?” slurs through the other end of the line, nearly drowned out by the commotion she most likely sits cross-eyed within. “Who s’about to be joined by a much less sexy motherfucker, hmm?”

“Let me guess,” Jeongguk runs his tongue over his teeth, unhooking the headset from his neck and placing it on the coffee table, “I’m the less sexy motherfucker?” he says as he reaches for the remote to turn off the television.

“Ding ding, ten points to Gryffindor,” she whoops and giggles, and god, Jeongguk melts a little as he stands up but definitely not because he thinks her intoxicated laughter sounds fucking adorable. No way. “Y’gonna come collect the goods?”

He stuffs his feet into a battered pair of Vans and reaches for his black parka, looking like a damn slob and all with nothing but a dark shirt and his grey sweats underneath. He has no plans to stay longer than absolutely necessary at the bar, anyway. “I can’t think of any goods I need to collect,” Jeongguk sighs, swiping his house keys and wallet from the dish atop the entry cabinet and making way towards the front door. “A drunken mess that unfortunately so happens to be my best friend sounds more accurate.”

“At leas’ she’s got a great ass!” she defends herself, Jeongguk mentally agrees, then literally has to slap himself across the face again for focusing too long on the mental image of it, which he has copied in high-definition into his memory. Her voice becomes distant from the speaker, shouts out, “No you may not touch it, fuckin’ perv! Go piss in yo’ girly fuckin’ Cosmopolitan, yeah?!”

“Please don’t get yourself killed before I get there,” Jeongguk raises his voice a little in hopes of her hearing over the music. A smidgen of the tension that is suddenly squeezing at his chest is released when he hears her indignant huff right against the speaker. “I’m gonna be pissed if I walk all that way just to find you’re dead.”

“It’s like, one kilometre tops, pussy,” she retorts, the eye roll practically audible as Jeongguk locks the front door and then heads down the hallway to the elevator. “A light jog’ll get you here in what, five minutes. So start runnin’, boy.”

“Fuck no. I’m hanging up. Stay alive.” He mutters, punching repeatedly at the elevator button as if it will make the doors open faster. 

Distantly, he wonders why he is in such a goddamn rush. He narrows it down to just wanting to get back home again as soon as humanly possible; to return to his disturbed Overwatch marathon. Yeah, of course that is why.

“Thanks babe, you th’ best!” she sings, hangs up before he can, and Jeongguk jams his finger against the button with a greater ferocity until the elevator dings open after what feels to be centuries of waiting. (It was not even thirty seconds.)

He ends up speedily jogging the entire way to the bar to build up his blood circulation because it is cold as tits outside, of course. Definitely not because it means he will get to see her sooner, make sure she is safe and sound and not being leered at by some drunken, creepy lecher.

Nope. No way at all.

They say that there is always a silver lining to every unfortunate and downright dreadful situation. Jeongguk is currently wondering where the fuck such lining happens to be once he finally finds a particular girl that he was forced and threatened to brave the cold in order to collect, only to be met by the pout that she knows gets him all pliable and willing. He does not know it yet, but the silver lining is still coming. Slowly, gradually, but it will.

Even if, right now, that shit seems as likely as getting a blow job from Beyonce.

“How much?” he shouts to be heard over the pounding music, repeats for the second time because he refuses to believe the sum that the bartender first announced. 

At Jeongguk’s hip slouches the self-proclaimed goods. The treacherous best friend, who keeps having to be hiked up by his arm curled tightly around her waist since her bones liquefied by liquor are failing to keep her standing. She has that goofy smile pulling at her plush lips, and Jeongguk is torn between wanting to slap from her face, or to kiss it away instead.

The bartender checks the amount again, then leans towards Jeongguk with a somewhat empathetic expression to call back, “Rounded to one hundred and eighty-four dollars.”

On the inside, Jeongguk might be crying a little. Funny how the reason behind his internal agony is also the same thing that is keeping him slightly sane through his mental calculations of how much money he has left in his bank account. Pressed against his side with an intoxicated, unfocused gaze that stares up at him too endearingly for him to be one hundred percent angry. He is at ninety-nine point nine-nine percent. Okay, maybe on the cusp of no less than ninety percent. Goddamn.

“I’m letting you go for a second,” Jeongguk warns her and begins to slowly recede his arm, giving her enough time to support herself on the bar. Rather than doing this, she wraps her own arms around his waist and nestles under his armpit.

In any other situation than the apparent one, where he has to aid his best friend’s spontaneous cocktail night with his own miserable funds, Jeongguk would be fighting to tame the glee. The kind that would be demanding to tuck her closer, and perhaps press his nose to the crown of her head so he can breathe in the soft scent of her vanilla shampoo. Unfortunately, no matter how much he wills himself to be dreaming that his weekly budget is about to be kicked repeatedly in the balls and that maybe, instead, they are just at home on the couch and it is one of those movie nights where she gets extra cuddly for no apparent reason, Jeongguk is still stuck in the apparent situation.

He glares at his tormenter, who continues to latch like a lock around his body, and barely manages to keep his tears from falling as he retrieves his wallet and flips it open, fingers shaky. An extra tug is required from the bartender to loosen the measly grip Jeongguk’s fingertips have on his debit card when he hands it over.

“Girlfriend?” The bartender politely chips in as he swipes the card through the eftpos machine and then faces the keypad towards Jeongguk. As Jeongguk punches in the pin number, the bartender darts his gaze up to him with a raised eyebrow. “Ex-girlfriend?”

“Neither, and I don’t know if that makes it better or worse,” Jeongguk smiles, the kind that conveys his immense internal suffering. The bartender gives a sympathetic nod and hands back Jeongguk’s card before rushing off to continue serving drinks.

The latest, monstrous attachment on Jeongguk’s side squeezes him with her feeble, jelly-drunk arms. Albeit the situation, something softens inside of him when he grabs her chin so that she will properly face him. She blinks languidly like an overtired kitten, mascara smudged beneath her eyes, lipstick smeared a little on her chin. Not in the way that suggests somebody else had their mouth on her own. It is definitely the familiar mark caused by the back of her hand rubbing against her lips after taking a shot. Jeongguk is still weighing up whether he prefers the latter to the former.

“‘m tired, Jeonggukie,” she whines, slumps closer to him, and he wraps his arm around her waist again, hoisting her up with a displeased sound.

“All that talk about wanting me to have a drink with you, and now you’re making me pay the bill and run?” Jeongguk teasingly chides, and she unabashedly nods against his right pectoral. Alarm bells start ringing in his head when her weight against his side grows a tad too close to the ‘falling unconscious’ side of the spectrum. “Woah, hey– No. Don’t you dare fall asleep on me, ___. You still have to walk home.”

She hooks her chin on his shoulder and conjures that goofy, heart-melting grin that has Jeongguk crying a little on the inside, because he is such an absolute sucker for her. In that moment, her pout becomes the bane of his existence as she says, “Jus’ carry me, yeah?”

“Hell fucking no.”

Jeongguk carries her on his back the entire damn way.

By the time they reach the front door of their apartment, Jeongguk’s knees are weakly trembling and he feels utterly winded. Maybe it is a sign that he needs to get back into the gym on the weekends instead of indulging Yugyeom with Overwatch marathons. Or, more favourably, he needs to find a new best friend who will not 1. have him pay for her expensive, alcoholic ways, and then 2. make him piggyback her through the bitter cold night while she is practically deadweight against his shoulders in her partially asleep state.

“For someone who was calling me a pussy because I couldn’t be bothered walking to the bar, you’re awfully hypocritical in riding my back the whole way home,” Jeongguk says, gasping a little, jiggling the key in the lock and bustling them both inside once the latch clicks.

She clambers off his back, staggers slightly, and then catches herself on the back of the couch. Miraculously, she appears minutely more sober than she was twenty minutes ago. “Could’ve got an Uber.”

Jeongguk kicks off his shoes. “What, and paid him with the moths flying out of my wallet?”

She shrugs. “It would’ve cos’ like, three dollars.”

“That three dollars is lasting us until next Thursday, thanks to a certain someone who just made me blow my pay that I only got four days ago,” he hisses, sliding out of his jacket and hanging it over one of the dining table chairs.

And there it is again. That silly little grin tugging softly at her lips as she wiggles her hips against the couch. Strategically, Jeongguk briskly turns on his heel and strides into the kitchen before she can get her nails in him. Moulding him like the pathetic putty that he is. He can practically hear her pout when he ignores her blatant attempt at melting down his cold facade. Then, her heels unsteadily click across the vinyl flooring to watch him pull out a saucepan and fill it halfway with water, positioning it on the largest hotplate.

Jeongguk does not cast his eyes her way, even if every inch of his body, particularly his dick, is demanding that he do so. Because holy eight-pound six-ounce sweet baby Jesus in his cradle of hay, he did not notice in the dim lighting of the bar, but she is wearing a black v-cut sweater that exposes her shoulders and collarbones and a barely there shadow of cleavage. That, in itself, is saying something since her tits are a size that would fit neatly in his palms without any overflow. Just a nice, small and cute handful. God, he has never seen her with even a hint of cleavage like this before. This is unchartered territory that he has no idea of how to face, especially when he can barely cope with the sight of her amazing ass in any kind of legwear.

Jeongguk, staring blankly at the packet ramyeon in his hands, mentally forces himself not to get fucking hard like a teenage boy in the middle of their goddamn kitchen.

“What’cha doin’, good lookin’?” she hums, now perched on a breakfast bar stool with the side of her face mashed into the heel of her palm, elbow propped up on the kitchen counter. In his periphery, those small, adorable breasts spill from the v-neck onto the white laminate as a result of her slouched over position. Every single one of his nerve-endings is aflame.

Jeongguk releases the air trapped tightly in his lungs and then proceeds to make way towards the slowly simmering pot of water. He dares not a single glance at her, for the fabric of his sweatpants leaves little to the imagination, and she has definitely recognised a semi in them before.

“I’m making you something to eat since you always get hungry after drinking. Also, because I’m the greatest best friend that this world could’ve ever graced you with.” Jeongguk’s eyes are glued to his hands as he begins tearing into the packets. He dumps the dehydrated noodles and seasonings into the water, and desperately tries not to think about how sweet her tits would look in his hands. Praying that she takes the bait, he adds on as an afterthought, “Why don’t you get changed into something comfortable, and the food will be ready when you are?”

There is a pause, a moment where Jeongguk’s tongue pulses like a heart in his mouth, and he tries not to break into a nervous sweat. He can practically hear his own words clicking into place in her mind; connecting, disconnecting, reconnecting; fumbling through the drunken haze that still lays thick on her thought process. Twenty seconds pass, and he ends up so on edge that when she slaps her open palm against the countertop, he startles so abruptly that he rips open a seasoning packet with the ferocity of a gorilla. Beef flavouring bursts over his shirt and the stovetop in a cloud of brown dust.

“I shall go do that,” she announces. Jeongguk, going from nearly hyperventilating out of surprise to having a coughing fit from inhaling seasoning particles, sees her slither like a lizard off the stool out of his watering periphery. Except drunk, and with a goddamn, freshly fucking harvested cleavage.

He only lets a tear roll down his cheek once she has staggered down the hallway. This is Jeon Jeongguk, at the ripe age of twenty-three, accepting that he may die tonight.

Despite this possibility, he goes about cleaning up the spilled beef flavouring, saving as much of it as he can and depositing it in the simmering pot. The ramyeon-making itself goes rather smoothly. He manages to not spill the boiling water all over himself, nor accidentally rub his eyes after touching the chilli sauce like he did that one, hellish time that rendered him blind for just under three hours. He stirs the noodle broth and listens to her clomp around her bedroom, the occasional grunt and groan emitting when she cracks her hip against her desk, or whacks her shoulder against the frame of her walk-in closet.

She remerges in an acceptably less boner-inducing outfit. Consisting of one of his black hoodies that nearly reaches her knees, and assumedly (he prays, at least) a pair of unseeable boyshorts underneath. Jeongguk starts straining the ramyeon into a bowl.

“That’s mine,” he says about the hoodie while she clambers back onto the stool, looking soft and cuddly in her bundle of cotton and fleece. Her attire may not be as threatening to his vulnerable dick, but it is definitely as murderous to his weakened heart.

“Finders keepers, losers are weepers,” she immediately fires back, settling into her previous palm-smushed-against-face position, waiting for him to finish plating up the ramyeon. “Dun’ forget the cheese, either.”

At that, his whole body shudders with repulsion. For the first time since the growth of her cleavage was made apparent, Jeongguk faces her directly and hopes that the sheer suffering she puts him through is perfectly translated through his withered expression when he says, “You are disgusting,” before opening the fridge anyway and retrieving the container of pre-sliced easy-melt. “I will never understand how you can perform such sacrilege against the two holiest foods by combining them into the edible-equivalent of Hell.”

“Excuse you, cheesy ramyeon is the best gift this world has given us.” She frowns at the ceiling, thinks this over for a moment, and then corrects herself with, “Has given me, since I’m the best gift this world has ever given you.”

Jeongguk merely chuckles, does not deny it, because one may call him a deadset liar if he were to do so. Instead, he peels two slices of cheese out of the container and places them atop the bowl of steaming ramyeon, pressing them down with a fork so that they melt faster. 

She makes an iffy little sound, somewhat of a whine, and says, “Extra cheese, please!”

“You’ll make yourself feel sick,” he warns, yet all she does is glare adorably at him until he caves like the weak man that he is and adds an extra two squares. A thought itches at the back of his mind, informing him that he is most likely going to regret this, and he brushes it away just as quickly as it forms. Under that beguiling gaze of hers, she could ask Jeongguk to stick chopsticks up his ass and impersonate a popsicle and he would.

An over-exaggeration, but you get the point.

“Alright, one extra cheesy ramyeon for the drunk girl with disgusting taste in food,” Jeongguk declares, reaching across the counter to place the dairy-laden bowl in front of her before grabbing her hand, putting the fork in her open palm and forcibly curling her fingers around it with his own. He holds her hand a moment longer than necessary between his own, grinning tightly, remaining to ignore the voice that is now screeching in his head that feeding her this is a very, very bad idea. “Bon appétit,” he finalises, and the deal is done.

She smiles up at him, eyes shining and all of her teeth on display. Jeongguk wonders what wars he must have ended in his past life to be rewarded with this girl of starlight and vanilla and honey who winds around him, softens him into warm and easy. Before he can further dwell on such a tender thought, she shovels a grotesque forkful of cheesy ramyeon into her mouth.

“Tfhanksh Jeonguffie,” she says around the stickiness, and Jeongguk, now the perfect picture of nonchalance, wordlessly turns on his heel and begins to clean up the dishes. Anything, really, to distract himself from projecting the small amount of vomit that has lurched up to the back of his throat at the horrendous meal making contact with those lips that deserve so much better.

Minutes slowly go by, stretching past two in the morning and beginning to progress towards quarter-past. Besides the sickening slurps that she makes behind him, and the clattering of the saucepan with a handful of dirty dishes from his own dinner being washed in the sink, no conversation is made, and it is comfortable. These moments are precisely why Jeongguk has not risked it yet; asking her the big question; the determiner as to whether their best friendship will advance into something more. If she were to deny him, he believes he would be able to handle it, but he knows well that such knowledge would be on her mind every time she looks his way. The awkward tension would ensue, she would overanalyse his every move, and he would become distant because he does not want her to get the wrong idea. They would anticipate the day that the lease on their apartment runs out so they can go their separate ways as soon as possible.

So, he keeps quiet and basks in the contentment that they have created together in their little home. At the end of the day, she is his best friend, and he could not imagine a future without her in it. No matter if they were romantically involved, or purely platonic. Sure, he would love to kiss her collarbones and put his hands on her hips and maybe – just maybe – tell her that he loves her in the morning glow of a lazy Sunday, whispered across the pillowcases. But he can live without that. He can be a big boy about it and move on.

He keeps telling himself this, at least. Soon, he will genuinely be convinced that he can do it.

“Jeongguk.”

“Mmm,” he hums in response, turning around when her follow-up is delayed, and he instantly notices how her expression has suddenly transformed.

Honestly, Usain Bolt could not even compare to how fast his ass moves. Jeongguk skirts around the kitchen counter, pulls her off the stool, and hastily guides her towards the sink while cursing under his breath.

“I feel…” she mumbles as Jeongguk takes out the plug and then gathers her hair up as well as he can manage, holding it in a loose bun at the crown of her head and cringing when her torso slightly convulses. “Like I’m gonna– Ugh–“

“Oh my god.”

Jeongguk swears he did not make her that much cheesy ramyeon. But dear fucking lord, the sheer amount that comes up and splashes into the sink is simply horrifying. The noodles must have expanded in her stomach for such an extensive volume to now be regurgitated in disgusting, yellow chunks that make his own stomach turn with wooziness. He cannot believe he thought cheesy ramyeon looked bad in the bowl, because it is appearing to be at least ten times worse in the form of barf.

“You owe me– Ugh, christ– So big after tonight, you little shit,” Jeongguk grunts at her between clenched teeth and gags when he gets a whiff of the stench. Like over-fermented dairy left out in the sun for weeks, doused in a hefty helping of vodka.

The sound she makes is awful when the next heave is unleashed onto the stainless steel, and she reaches one hand back from where it is braced on the counter to weakly pat his stomach. When she shakily murmurs, “I’ll give you the best blow of your life as thanks,” Jeongguk has to bite the wet, fleshy inner of his cheek to stop the visualisation of her words from drowning his mind until it is all he can think about.

“Don’t talk about sucking my dick while you’re vomiting,” he groans with a small tilt to the corners of his lips despite himself, collecting a loose strand of hair that is falling dangerously close to her mouth. She halfheartedly laughs before another surge of cheesy ramyeon makes its departure from her body, and Jeongguk dry-heaves in perfect synchronisation.

By the time the contents of her belly have been completely and utterly expelled, Jeongguk is admittedly feeling much weaker in the stomach than he was before her bout of throwing up. Especially after having to wash it down the drain. Once there is not an inch of cheesy noodles in sight, he gingerly carries her bridal-style into their shared bathroom and props her up on the sink, one hand on her waist to keep her steady and the other reaching for her toothbrush. 

Jeongguk bites his lip to hide his smile when she leans forward and rests her forehead on his chest while he squeezes out a line of toothpaste. He wets the brush a little under the tap, and then takes her chin like he had back in the club, lifting it up so that he can see her sleepy, downright adorable face. Seriously, who looks this cute after vomiting up their breakfast, lunch, dinner, and all of the vodka sloshed in between?

“Open your mouth,” Jeongguk says, moving his fingers so they can squeeze her cheeks and make her lips pout like a fish. His heart weeps like the pathetic thing that it is at the sight.

She waggles her eyebrows to the best of her ability in her sobering, exhausted state. “What’re you going to put in there?”

“Not my dick, unfortunately for you,” Jeongguk chuckles, holding up the toothbrush, and she sighs loudly with faux disappointment. Well, he thinks she is joking. Surely she is.

Obediently, she opens her mouth. Jeongguk abruptly shoves the toothbrush in there and starts scrubbing at her pearly whites before he can think of the way she looks with her lipstick-smudged lips parted so obscenely like that.

His brain is the epitome of a keyboard smash.

It only glitches all the more when Jeongguk gradually comes to realise the entire position that they are both in; taking him over like a virus. His non-brushing hand still cups her small jaw. Glitch. Her bare thighs brush against his hips as she lightly swings her feet. Glitch. She blatantly stares at him, eyes half-lidded and looking like melted butter. Error: Jeon Jeongguk is no longer computing.

At least he can thank all of the deities that she is no longer wearing the Cleavage Sweater of Jeongguk’s Absolute Demise. Otherwise, he would have a bird’s eye view of the goods in question, and he, undoubtedly, would be a dead man.

Before he can linger on the dangerous thought of her small breasts while he is at this high-risk proximity, she makes a distressed gurgling sound. A sliver of Jeongguk’s sanity returns to him and he realises that toothpaste is spilling out of her mouth and onto his hand. With a panicked yelp, he yanks the toothbrush out of her mouth and she hurries to swivel around and spit out the accumulated mass of minty foam into the sink.

“Jesus H. Christ, Jeon,” she rasps, coughing once and wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. Her glare is watery and suspicious. “Were you trying to drown me? Imagine that. Death by toothpaste.”

He sputters, swallowing down laughter. “Shit, sorry, I was just– Uh, thinking about something,” he mutters, sheepishly smiling and reaching around her to rinse off the toothbrush.

“‘bout what?” she hums, dipping her head down so she can cutely shove her face in his own. Jeongguk grunts and cranes his neck away, but she grins wider and follows him, accidentally bumping her nose against his jaw. “What’cha thinking about, huh?”

“Ugh, hey– Stop!” He lets the toothbrush clatter into the sink and smooshes her cheeks between his large palms, holding her still, approximately an inch away from his nose. Cautiously, Jeongguk leans back, redeems the blush that is steadily heating his own cheeks by saying, “I was just thinking about all the ways I’m going to make you repay me for making me deal with your drunk ass.”

She half-heartedly waggles her eyebrows. “Care to elaborate?”

“Oh, you know,” he says as he drops his hands to her knees, but he does not fucking know at all since he was thinking about her tits again. His barely functioning, overtired and exhausted brain manages to conjure a handful of weak options. “I could make you do the dishes for a whole month. Or maybe, I could get you to buy the groceries for the next two fortnights. That’ll wipe your cocktail debt, at least.”

“You’re too soft on me, Jeongguk. Even when I can make your life a living hell,” she sighs, sleepily blinking at him. Unexpectedly, she knots her hands into the front of his shirt and pulls him close, successfully bringing his face back to the proximity that it was only a moment ago; nearly nose to nose. He can very suddenly feel his pulse practically vibrating in his throat. “‘m really sorry. You deserve something better than just some silly chores. I’ll pay you back the money of course, but– … Hey, what does my breath smell like?”

Before Jeongguk can even question her, she is forcefully exhaling onto his face. A gust of peppermint fills his nostrils, powerful enough to make him flinch. “Minty fresh. Why?”

Her lips stretch into a gentle curve, and beneath the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom, it almost appears nervous. “Good, ‘cos here goes nothing.”

Jeongguk is about to frown, about to speak, about to something. He cannot recall. Not now that she has closed the short gap between them and is accurately planting her mouth upon his own.

For a moment, Jeongguk thinks he might well and truly be dreaming. That tonight was some ridiculously real, torturous fantasy that his imagination managed to conjure in his unconscious state. But then her soft, damp lips part ever so slightly. Warm with the heat of her mouth, yet cool from the toothpaste. She opens up to him, her hands sliding up his chest to lock around his nape, the tip of her tongue skimming along the rosy flesh of his lower lip, and he knows.

This is very, very real.

Holy shit.

It takes a second for him to comprehend that he should kiss her back instead of standing there like a startled creature. And so, he slides his hands up from her knees to the middle of her thighs, the soft flesh warm beneath his palms when he gently grips them, and he tilts his head slightly to the side to deepen it. At this, she makes the most pleasant, lovely little sound. The edges of her nails lightly graze against the hair on the back of his neck, and elicit gooseflesh that tingles along his arms. 

Jeongguk parts his lips, lets her in, groans quietly when her tongue brushes against the underside of his own and then recedes. He chases after it, tasting warmth and cool peppermint as he carefully sinks his teeth into her lower lip, nibbling at the plush flesh and releasing it. A thin string of saliva connects their mouths as they separate for the most infinitesimal of moments before they dive back in. They are abstrusely drawn to each other. Like a black hole has formed between their bodies and they are radiant stars, pulled to the centre by gravity, colliding and becoming one.

Jeongguk cannot think straight. His mind has become an unrecognisable labyrinth that he cannot navigate; sent into turmoil by the taste of her, the feeling of her underneath the weight of his hands. He searches higher up her thighs, skimming beneath the hem of the hoodie and over her boyshorts, finding her waist and anchoring his fingers there, pulling her closer. Now, with her torso melding against his own, she loops her arms over his shoulders and her legs around his hips, locking her ankles and hands so that the embrace cannot be broken. Jeongguk melts completely, and he prays that this is not just some measly, intoxicated repayment. That what he feels in the slow movements of her lips and the press of her tongue is what he thinks it is. 

What he has been hoping for all this time.

As if she reads his mind, she suddenly jolts away like she has been electrocuted. Jeongguk, startled and with his lips still parted, stares at her with awed, lovestruck eyes. She gazes back as though she is very, very unsure.

Oh no.

“Woah,” she breathes, then she is untwining her limbs from his broad figure and clasping her blushing face with something akin to embarrassment. Jeongguk would think it looks utterly adorable if the fear was not currently spiking his adrenaline. “Wow– That was– Oh. Geez. I’m so sorry–“

“Why are you apologising?” Jeongguk barely whispers, and he almost does not want to know the answer for the fear of her words shattering his feeble heart like a hammer taking to glass.

“I’m– What? I’m apologising because that– That was something I shouldn’t have done,” she stammers, then sighs, letting her hands fall into her lap and staring down at them. Jeongguk is frozen, his own palms still firm against her waist underneath the bunched up fleece. “It was out of line. We’re best friends. I mean, I could blame it on being drunk if I wanted to and we could forget all about it. But in all seriousness, I’ve wanted to do that for a while. It was a very sober decision–“

Jeongguk exhales, and it shudders reluctantly out of his lungs. “You’re not making sense.”

“Okay, fine, fuck it!” she suddenly shouts, and it makes him jump. Her voice echoes around the bathroom, and she looks up at him again, eyes overflowing with frightening determination.  “Jeongguk. I like you, okay? There. I said it. I like you so much, and I get that saying this might fuck up our entire friendship but I really like you–“

He cuts her off with his mouth on her own and thinks: How were we this blind for so long?

This time, the kiss is brief, yet urgent. A sense of desperation hides in the corners of their mouths. Not searching for an answer, but out of the sheer desire touch one another, breathe one another after being oblivious for so long. Jeongguk begins to laugh, soft chuckles against her mouth that draw mystified, hopeful giggles from her own chest. The kissing becomes quite pointless, for they are simply smiling so wide out of the absolute ridiculousness that they could have been doing this for months, maybe even years, at this stage. 

They were just too foolish and scared of losing the other. Yet none of that matters now.

“Is this you confessing back to me?” she mumbles, and there is so much delight dancing like starlight in her eyes that Jeongguk’s heart races. He pecks at her mouth once, twice, then moves to her cheeks, her nose, her forehead and her chin until she is laughing all over again and holy shit, Jeongguk is quite possibly too in love for somebody who was so firmly denying it no less than two hours ago.

“Something like that,” he hums, squeezing at her sides before slipping his hands out from underneath the hoodie so he can reach up and cup her face. There is something radiant bursting through his ribs. Most likely, his elated heart. “I think I love you. At this stage, for me at least, I feel like I love you. I thought I just loved you as a best friend, but it’s definitely more than that.”

“Oh thank god,” she grins, and he feels it against his palms. “I was going to say I love you instead of I like you, but I thought it might be too sudden and scare you away. So yeah, I love you too, asshole. Also, I’m still a bit tipsy.”

Jeongguk’s face feels as though it is going to split in half from smiling so hard. He tucks her hair behind her ears, dies a little on the inside at the fact that he can do that, and so much more, now that they have laid their cards on the table. Brushing his thumbs over her faintly blushing cheeks, he kisses her, and then says, “Really? Wanna go to bed?”

“Yes,” she sleepily nods, latching her limbs around him again like a starfish. “Onwards to my bed, O’ Noble Steed!”

“God. You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously in love, bitch.”

“Wow, there’s the best friend that I know. Thought I lost you.”

“Nope. You fell in love with this, so you’re stuck with this.”

Grin still plastered to his face, Jeongguk hooks his hands underneath her thighs and lifts her up, delighting in the way she giggles with glee in his ear. In navigating out of the bathroom and to her bedroom, he carries her towards all the light switches so she can flick them off. He kisses her cheek with every single one. 

When they enter her bedroom, the overwhelming fragrance of her hits him like a shockwave. Even more so as he carefully lays her down on the bed and then tucks in behind her; the gentle, vanilla aroma lifting from the pillowcase. She rolls over to face him in the dark, and Jeongguk loops his arms around her waist so casually that anyone would think they have been doing this for years.

“Hey,” she whispers.

“Hi,” he murmurs back, pressing his lips to the centre of her brow. At this rate, he believes he may never stop kissing her now that he has started.

Languidly, she blinks, and then mumbles, “This is real, right? I didn’t black out on cocktails, did I? I’m not just having some crazy, amazing dream?”

“Definitely real,” Jeongguk chuckles, pulling her closer. She cranes her neck, angling upwards to catch his mouth against her own, still tasting faintly of mint and pure, unadulterated joy. He licks at her bottom lip, and she groans, pulling away.

“Don’t do that. You’ll make me more horny.”

Jeongguk’s dick, in an act of betrayal, begins to stand to attention for the nth time that night.

“Y-You’re horny right now?” He clears his throat, swallows saliva down his suddenly very parched windpipe.

“Yeah, ’cos I’m still a little drunk,” she whines cutely, but it is nearly lost on Jeongguk. Because now all he can imagine is peeling her out of his hoodie and the boyshorts, seeing her lovely and bare, and then making her cry out his name with every fluid thrust inside of her.

“Fuck, now I’m kinda horny,” he mutters, and she cackles evilly.

“Are you hard?”

“Half,” Jeongguk admits, and she shifts so that she is propped up on her side by her elbow.

“Can I touch you? I’m too tired to jack you off but– I just want to, y’know, feel it,” she is smirking through the shadows and Jeongguk cannot roll the yes off his tongue fast enough.

Then, her small hand is on his dick, almost immediately causing it to swell to its full, erect size.

Jeongguk releases a tight exhalation that whistles between his teeth, draws soothing patterns on her back with his fingertips to try calm himself from potentially blowing his load right here and now. He cannot believe that he has dreamed of this more times than he can physically count on both hands, and now it is actually happening. Out of fear of disturbing the moment, he keeps his muscles locked. She stays rather silent as she feels around him through his sweatpants; gently squeezing his shaft, his balls, her thumb gliding smoothly over the head. 

Then, she nods to herself. Her hand recedes, and Jeongguk feels the loss like a blade driving through his gut.

“I always thought it would be big after seeing your semi that one time, but this is quite impressive,” she very casually states while she lays back down, and Jeongguk’s heart stutters. He cannot decide whether it is torture or euphoria that he is experiencing right now. A concoction of the two, most likely, because 1. she thinks that he has a big dick, and yet 2. he refuses to drill it into her while she is still a few steps away from sober. He wants her head completely clear for that.

Instead, Jeongguk latches onto two of the words that she speaks, smirking himself as he says, “Always thought, huh?”

“Oh come on, you can’t say that you haven’t thought about my body, too!” she accuses good-naturedly, wriggling closer to him so that all of her curves and slopes press against him. His painfully hard dick nestles into her thigh. The desire to roll it against her spreads through him like wildfire. “I might’ve been drunker earlier, but don’t think I didn’t notice the way you were staring at my cleavage like a man deprived. That shirt is a godsend for my tiny titties, right?”

“God, you have no fucking idea,” Jeongguk shamelessly admits, burying his face into her neck and softly biting the flesh there, shivering when she squirms. She is better than he could have ever imagined in all of her reactions to his touches, the sounds that she creates. So real. “That’s why I told you to get changed. I thought I was going to die.”

She threads her fingers through his hair, softly stroking the dark locks. “I’ll make sure to wear it more often then.”

“Well, here’s your cautionary warning that I probably won’t be able to hold myself back when you do. I don’t care where we are or who sees.”

“That’s hot,” she laughs, and then yawns. Jeongguk untucks himself from the nook of her shoulder, licks his lips, and presses a firm kiss to her mouth. When she moves her thigh to wrap around his own, it brushes against the head of his hard cock and he has to swallow down a needy moan.

“Sleep. We’ll talk more tomorrow, okay?” He murmurs. “And we’ll fix this horniness problem. Also, side note: can I hold your ass?”

“Yup, go for it,” she hums, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against his own. Jeongguk smooths his palms down her spine and then over the supple flesh of her ass, and lord, it honestly feels as fantastic as he had expected. He gingerly gives it a squeeze, and she makes a soft, appreciative sound that has all the blood rushing out of his head, leaving him lightheaded and so fucking in love that it hurts. Well, hurts his dick, for the most part.

The room fills with placid silence, yet his heart thrums loudly in his ears, keeping him awake. He focuses on the way her breathing begins to even out, and tries to match his own to her pace. Slowly; in through the nose, out through the mouth. The minutes pass, and Jeongguk feels his body become heavier, heavier, until he closes in on the soothing edge of unconsciousness.

She stirs.

“Jeonggukie.”

“Mmm.”

“I think I’m going to vomit again.”

Jeongguk has been woken up in numerous unusual ways. Being punched in the face is a first, and is quite possibly one of the more painful methods. Even if it was an accident as a result of somebody flailing too close for comfort.

“Ow– Jesus!” He squawks, immediately rolling onto his back and cupping his nose where the fist had made sharp contact.

When he opens his watering eyes, he notices that his best friend is looming over him with a very confused and very concerned expression. The sight of her as the first thing he sees when he awakes is not abnormal, for she has proven to be a much more efficient alarm than his own cell phone on numerous occasions. Even if her method this time around was unnecessarily more painful.

But it is the fact that her bedroom surrounds the both of them that throws him off. Because that must mean he is sleeping in her bed. And why on Earth–

Oh.

That’s right. They confessed. They kissed. Jeongguk fell asleep with his hands on her beautiful ass after holding her hair back while she threw up a second time.

He pushes himself up on his elbows, a sleepy half-smile beginning to tilt his lips.

That is, until she very bluntly says, “What are you doing in my bed?”

The smile immediately vacates his expression, and he suddenly feels as though he has fallen off a cliff face and is plummeting through the air. Jeongguk’s voice trembles in the back of his throat as he quietly says, “What do you mean?”

“Why are you in my bed?” she questions him again, and Jeongguk thinks he is literally about to be sick. “Oh! That’s right. You came to the bar, didn’t you? Jesus. Did we get that drunk again that we ended up crashing in my bed together?” She shakes her head. “I bet it was like last time when we passed out in your bed after that frat party. You remember the one, right? Where we had a full-blown argument over pineapple on pizza–“

Jeongguk swiftly scrambles upright and out of the bed, his chest feeling tight in the worst possible way. Did he genuinely dream everything that occurred last night? Did none of it actually happen? Or was she drunker than he initially thought and she has completely forgotten everything that occurred?

“Don’t you remember, ___?” He whispers, and his voice cracks.

She tilts her head to the side. The sunlight filters through the bedroom window, casting her in a sheen of gold, and she looks so unbelievably, heart-wrenchingly gorgeous that Jeongguk feels something in his chest begin to splinter.

“Remember what?” she says, utterly clueless, and Jeongguk casts his eyes to the ground, confused and hurt beyond belief.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, starting towards the door. He cannot completely comprehend what is happening right now, but he knows that something is definitely off because he swears on his heart that it was not a dream. She was real. Her warm mouth shaped against his own was real. Her voice wrapping around the words ‘I love you’ was very, very real; he knows that he could never imagine such a confession so vividly–

Behind him, she bursts into a fit of laughter.

“Oh my god. Jeongguk, you’re more gullible than a dog running to fetch the ball that its owner pretended to throw!”

He whips his head around, eyes as wide as Jupiter. “W-What?”

“I remember what happened, dumbass. Everything. I kissed you in the bathroom, we confessed our undying feelings for one another, I touched your dick, yadda yadda.” She crawls across the bed until she is kneeling before him, carefully reaching up to clasp his face between her palms and Jeongguk is torn between wanting to beat her with a pillow or kiss her senseless. Huh, he supposes this is what angry sex must be all about. “Was I really that convincing?”

He closes his eyes, furrows his brow. His mind is still suffering from the sudden whiplash, and is now doused in liquid fury. “I’m honestly going to fucking kill you.”

“I love you too,” she placates him, rising up to tentatively kiss him. He cuttingly stares at her half-lidded gaze as she dusts tiny pecks to his unmoving lips until he finally caves through the simmering anger and gives in to her, flicking his tongue out to meet her own. Carefully, as if she is unsure whether he will tear her head off or not at the slightest misjudgement, she begins to travel her mouth down his jaw, mumbling, “I’m sorry, that was mean of me.”

“I genuinely thought for a moment there that I must’ve had the wildest lucid dream,” he mutters, settling his hands on her ribs and angling his head to the side so that she has easier access. “But I feel like I could’ve never imagined the sight, nor stench of regurgitated cheesy ramyeon with such disgustingly intense clarity.”

She chuckles, quietly apologising again, and the exhalation of it on his skin raises the hairs on his nape. She reaches the under of his jawline, plush lips coming into contact with an especially sensitive spot on his neck, and an involuntary moan escapes him when the light suck of her teeth sends shivers down his spine.

Jeongguk can feel the curve of her languid, wicked grin instantly forming against his skin.

“Instead of fucking killing me, how about you fuck me to my grave?” she suggests, and her tone is too saccharine around such filthy words. Unbearable enough to bolster his morning wood to its full capacity, even when the flame of rage from her awful joke is still dying out.

“You’re insane,” Jeongguk chuckles despite himself, and she leans back, divine smile still intact.

“Insanely horny after keeping my sexual frustrations for you locked up in my body for roughly a year now? Yes,” she confirms with finger guns and a wink. He shakes his head out of incredulity. “And, I do believe I have a dick to blow to say thank you for last night. And also to say sorry for scaring you just now.”

“Baby, I don’t think you realise this yet but if we’re really a thing now, then you’re going to be sucking my dick for a whole month to pay me back for the past twelve hours.” Jeongguk sighs, running his hand through his hair and then down his face. His heart soars from the way her expression meekly transforms at the sudden nickname. “I’m going to have to start a fucking tally.”

“Well,” she hums, slips her fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants, and Jeongguk becomes lightheaded, “consider this strike number one, baby.”

The way she says it melts him down like candle wax, and he cannot help but tackle her onto the bed, grinning at her surprised squeal that is soon suffocated by his lips. Jeongguk knows that they have all morning for this. That he can take his time to explore her body in all of its magnificence until he can perfectly map it out in his mind, can understand the raw shape of her, what glorious noises she makes when he touches her, and what specific places on her being elicit them. He mouths his way down her throat, catches the blissful sigh as it releases from her lungs into the early morning, and then detaches so he can sit back and look at her, straddled beneath him.

Jeongguk entwines her hands with his own and slowly draws them above her head. She simpers, her half-lidded, glassy eyes flooded with unadulterated desire, cast in golden sunlight that makes her appear unbelievably ethereal. He slides his palms to her wrists, leans down so that his lips hover just above her own, gazes right at her and thanks his lucky stars for gracing him with an embodiment of themselves in the form of a girl so radiant that she blinded him; enough, that he could not recognise the love cooped up in her eyes until she spoke it.

He murmurs, “___, I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. Even if you destroy my savings account and eat the most repulsive meal known to humankind. You’re my best friend, and I want to escalate our best friendship to ‘best-friends-who-fuck-each-other-and-are-ridiculously-in-love’. What do you think?”

“Well, I love you too,” she smiles, her eyes flicking between his own, a glint of mischief hiding underneath the flutter of her eyelashes. “And I completely approve of such an upgrade. Partly because I cannot even express how long I’ve wanted to hold your hand and tell the world that you’re my boyfriend, and partly because I really want to blow you while you play video games.”

There, the realisation drives straight through Jeongguk’s heart. And his dick.

Ah, silver lining.

Note | I just wanted to write about Jeongguk’s phone vibrating against his balls. That is all. I have also never played Overwatch, so if any of the references are incorrect, I apologise. Thank you all for reading, liking, and reblogging this fun and silly little piece. I would love to hear your thoughts on it! ♡

All Rights Reserved © Vankoya. No translations, reposting and/or modifying of the material is allowed without my direct permission.