#when i got back home after half a day of thesis. half a day of org work. my mom tells me

[hannie-dul-set]

having the worst fucking week of my LIFE i can't do this anymore.

[andhumanslovedstories]

I am not closely following the election results tonight, but I am occasionally seeing flashes of them out of the corner of my eye. The most obvious sign that things aren’t going well right now is the complete lack of celebrating on my dash. I know what tumblr looks like when it’s happy. Maybe I’ll go to bed tonight and see something different in the morning. I hope to god that is the case. But I’m thinking about the way I’m thinking right now, and I want to get some stuff down before the future kicks in.

In 2016 I was in a period of my life I affectionately refer to as as my fuckup era. I wasn’t even fucking up really. More just chilling out and falling short of the vague expectations I’d had about what I was supposed to be doing after I graduated college. While my friends from college rented apartments in the city and got jobs that didn’t supply you with a uniform shirt, I lived at home and worked as a barista at a fancy movie theater. That’s a real job you can do for almost five years. I didn’t have a clue what the back half of my twenties should look like. The only long term plan I had in my life was moving out west with my best friend, and my plan for finding a job once I was out there was basically to cross my fingers and hope.

Those days weren’t bad on the whole, but it felt like I was not actually living a life so much as I was goofing off in the waiting room. Sometimes that felt embarrassing, sometimes it felt fun, and sometimes it felt like I was completely pointless to the world.

On 2016’s Election Day, I went to bed early. After watching the votes come in, I needed the night to be over. I woke in a world that felt different than it had been the night before—not just in the actuality of who would be president but down to its foundations. I realized for the first time how much hope I’d had in human nature because now I didn’t feel it anymore. It’s almost silly when I think about it—so many horrible things had already happened that year, people had done horrible things as long as there have been people, and I didn’t think I was naive to that—but something clicked into place that morning.

It felt the same way my world had changed a year earlier, in 2015 during my last semester of college. My college victory lap felt like a prolonged downward spiral. Very early in the morning on a Monday, after pulling an all-nighter and overwhelmed by self-loathing that I could not just motivate myself to work on a paper that had been my only thought all weekend, I self-harmed for the first time in a way that was impossible to pretend it was anything else. Earlier that weekend, I’d tried staving off the urges drawing or writing on my arm, something that did (and does) usually work. I’d written this quote in silver sharpie on my forearm: “Good is not a thing you are. It's a thing you do.”

I picked that quote from the Ms. Marvel comics and liked the words so much, I thought that I wouldn’t be willing to purposefully mess it up by hurting myself there. Didn’t work. They just made me feel more ashamed of myself as I did it.

That was the worst I had ever felt. Then, on the Friday of that week, a friend of mine was senselessly, brutally murdered.

It doesn’t feel now like there was ever a time before her death. My memoir class is now where I wrote about her. My favorite professor is now the one who held me as I cried. My final thesis, the culmination of my history degree, never got finished and certainly never got polished. I turned it what I had and got an A minus. Sometimes I think of rereading that paper to see if that’s the grade it actually deserved. We hadn’t been the closest friends, but my name was still on the email admin sent to professors, listing students who might be emotionally affected by this tragic event. Grace’s murder hangs over every memory I have with her and everything she ever touched. It feels like its own type of obliteration to leave her reduced to her death.

Grace wanted to be a lawyer because she believed in justice and also liked arguing. She could be rude when she wasn’t interested in what you were saying. When you caught her attention, you felt like the most fascinating person in the room. She was so proud of being Jewish. I watched her become proud of being gay. She was so universally friendly that it took me a year to realize that she actually liked specifically me. She had a somewhat silly laugh and an astonishingly luminous smile.

I thought less of the world and the people in it because of how she died. Trump’s election in 2016 felt like that.

After he won, I left stasis. From November through December, I thought harder about my future than I ever had before. Who did I want to be? What did I most value? What did I think was worth protecting? What work wouldn’t kill me to do? At one point, in presumably a fit of madness, I thought, “what if I got into politics.” Epiphany eventually hit me. By the time of Trump’s inauguration, I was already enrolled at community college, getting my pre-reqs for nursing school.

Now it’s election night again, eight years later. I live on the west coast with my best friend, in a house that we bought together. I work as a nurse in a hospital in a city where there are homeless encampments off every highway and someone begging for change on every corner. Meanwhile, there’s Palestine. Meanwhile there’s Sudan. Meanwhile refugees drown in the sea and border patrol shoots jugs of water. Even hurricanes have human cruelty now.

I don’t think people are inherently good or the universe inherently kind. But I am very good at tricking myself into thinking it for a little while, and when I do, I can remember the a specific feeling from Friday of my senior year, from that morning in November— how fucking hard the disappointment hit me because I had expected people to be better than this. It makes me want to be better than that.

I believe, and hope that I always will, that we can make a better world. I don’t know what it looks like, but I think I will see it in my lifetime. Those of us who can believe such things owe a bit of that naïveté to the world—not to excuse atrocities or think them impossible but to believe that we can stop them at all. You have to have a couple people sprinkled around who are genuinely shocked when people do bad things. It’s not that the pessimists are wrong, but you need the occasional counterbalance. I want to be a reasonable cynic’s pleasant surprise.

Every shift, I interact with people at their lowest and worst. I see the direct pipeline from pain to anger to violence, and how fragile that pipeline can be. So many situations can be changed by things as small as a warm blanket or a kind word. Violence can be quite easy to avert. Crises can be quite simply to resolve. Even when I know that whatever I do that shift will not change the circumstances of a person’s life, I think that what I do that shift still matters.

I’m lying in bed, writing this post instead of looking at the news. I wonder how tonight will change me. Been thinking about what I’ll do if Trump wins. Been thinking about how whatever I think I need to do under Trump will still need to be done if Harris clutches out a victory. I guess this is a pessimist’s optimism: to a degree the election doesn’t matter. Good is not a thing you are. It is a thing you do. Our better world will always take a lot of work.

But please god please, why can’t it be just a little easier to do it?

[vivwritesfics]

Pastry

Boyf Oscar moments

1.3K

I need moots

"Oscar Pastry!" She sang as she skipped towards the McLaren garage.

The Australian in question glared at her, but it was a good thing his glare made him look like an angry puppy.

"That's not my name," he said as she came closer.

Y/N thought for a minute. "No, no. I think it is," she answered and looked around the garage for his teammate. "Lando! This is Oscar Pastry, right?"

"Definitely Oscar Pastry!" Lando shouted back.

"That's settles it then, Oscar Pastry."

Oscar may have been glaring, but he skill kissed her. "Wish me luck today," he said, placing his hands on her hips while Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Good luck, Pastry," she whispered and placed her head against his chest.

Oscar kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms more securely around her.

Pastry, because that was what Y/N thought his name was when they'd first met. She'd soon learnt it was Piastri, but by then it was too late and the name had stuck. Even before they were dating, she still called him Oscar Pastry.

It was his name in her phone when they were innocently flirting over text. When the flirting was no longer innocent, his name was still Oscar Pastry.

When Oscar had asked Y/N to be his, she'd answered with "Of course, Oscar Pastry."

Now, a year on from that everything was different. Oscar was no longer in F2 and a lot more of his life was in the limelight. But he was still Y/Ns Oscar Pastry.

***

2023 was Oscars rookie season. But he was amazing. Y/N always came away from each race filled with pride. Oscar could have DNFed or finished each race last and she still would have been filled with pride.

"Pastry!" Y/N shouted as he got out of the car. He wasted no time in taking her into his arms and spinning her around. His helmet was still on his head, so Y/N had no choice but to kiss it, to kiss where his mouth should have been.

He let her go, pulled off his helmet and gave her a real kiss. One that had the lads in the McLaren garage clapping their hands and turning away to give them a little bit of privacy.

After that Oscar was off to do what he needed to do after the race. Y/N waited for him in his driver's room. She played on her phone, scrolling through social media to see pictures of the race already up on her Instagram.

The Oscar fans were her favourite. There were some familiar faces on her feed, fans that had been there since his F2 days and had moved up into F1 with them.

There were several pictures of Oscars McLaren driving around the track. There were quick videos of him overtaking other drivers and pictures of his jumping out of his car.

And then Y/N got to the F1 news sites. Ever since Oscars F1 debut, the news sites run by the male F1 fans had been overly critical of her specifically. So, Y/N tended to avoid them. She stuck to the accounts that loved her and Oscar together, the accounts that didn't tear her down just because she was with Oscar.

The wag accounts had posted updates from the race, the most recent of which being the picture of her kissing Oscars helmet. And then it was the pictures of her actually kissing Oscar. Him all sweaty and disheveled from the race, her radiating pure joy.

***

Y/N couldn't go to every race. As much as she tried, she couldn't make it to every single one. She had work and school to attend.

So, when she couldn't make it to a race, Oscar was very understanding. They called and texted as much as they possibly could. Even if she had to watch the race through her tv screen, she still watched the race.

Studying and working was a tiring business. Sunday evening, after the race, Y/N was exhausted. With preparing to write her thesis, she only managed to half watch the race. It was mainly her listening out for Oscars name and number as she typed away at her laptop.

Oscar was due home that night. To the some they shared.

Y/N tried her very best to stay awake as she waited for him, she really did. Maybe her first mistake was climbing into bed. Maybe her first mistake was getting under the blankets and letting the warmth cocoon her.

The same thing probably would have happened if she had stayed sitting on the couch. At least in her bed she was comfortable and unlikely to hurt her back like she would on the couch.

When Oscar got in, the lights and the television were still on. It was kind of worrying, actually, seeing all the lights on and no sign of his girlfriend. "Y/N?" He called, looking around into their kitchen. "Y/N?"

Oscar went around, checking every single room. And then he got to their bedroom.

Slowly, Oscar pushed open the door. It didn't stop the door from squeaking as he opened it. He put his head around the door and looked in.

There she was, sleeping peacefully in their bed. In way of pyjamas she had on an orange McLaren hoodie.

Oscar tried his best to be quiet. He tried to move around the room silently, tried to be light-footed, but he wasn't doing a very good job. Every time the floorboards creaked under his feet, he turned back to his girlfriend, to make sure she was still asleep.

As Oscar got dressed, Y/N stirred. She rolled towards him, her eyes fluttering open. "Pastry?" She called, her voice croaking.

Suddenly she was sat up, rolling out of bed and stumbling towards him. "Oh my god, Pastry. You're back," she said and wrapped her arms around him.

Oscar had to hold her steady as they hugged. "I missed you too, baby," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. He walked her back over to the bed and sat her down.

"Love you, Oscar Pastry," she whispered and promptly went back to sleep, wrapped in his embrace.

***

"This is paradise," said Y/N as she stretched out on her sun lounger. The sun was shining, palm trees providing the only shade for miles.

The pool in front of her was crystal clear. In said pool was her boyfriend, swimming from one side to the other with an inflatable dolphin. Y/N watched him through her sunglasses, a McLaren hat on her head.

Summer break was something Y/N took very seriously. Her studies were finally done and Oscar was finally on summer break from the season.

Of course, Oscar had to take his girl on holiday. They flew to the Caribbean, to a private villa they'd rented for the next week and a half. From there it was sun, sand, blue skies and crystal clear water.

Getting out of the pool, Oscar threw himself down onto the sunbed beside Y/N. "Happy?" He asked, reaching out and placing his hand on her knee.

His fingers were cold, but it was welcome under the Caribbean sun. Y/N placed her hand on top of his and nodded her head. "This is amazing, Oscar Pastry," she said, turning towards him.

Oscar had this way of smiling. It made Y/N's heart beat fast and the blood rush to her cheeks. "I love you," she said, reaching up to push her fingers through his hair. "My Oscar Pastry."

"Your Oscar Pastry."

The trip was commemorated with a post on Y/N's Instagram.

y/nusername:

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiatri and 238,557 others

ynusername Oscar 🥐

[onlyrains]

𝓹𝓲𝓽𝔂 party 2 | 𝓵𝓱𝓼

a/n: a quick update bc im still too caught up on my thesis #prayforme

it's not really related to the part 1 ig just full about relationship with heeseung | wc: 1,8k-ish

!!! part 1 !!!

just like a fallen leaves that the wind blows away easily, the breath you take mindlessly, and the boiling ramen soup that evaporates under its cup quickly. the memory of your first party is now long gone since six of your brother's friends come to your house almost everyday.

you don't even bother questioning what matter your brother had on that day. they said that it was just about dissenting opinions and you easily buy it.

it's been two weeks since the tragedy, and today you can confidently declare that jake is no longer the only one you know among them. you have heeseung now. of course, he isn't the most friendly, but you notice he is the most attentive and reliable, sometimes even more than your brother, jay. the rest of them are basically your acquaintances now, but something is surely different between you and heeseung.

he's still quietly annoying, secretly irritating, and overall not so different from your brother. yet the tension is still unchanged since he took you home that day. it's so obvious like you have never practically left alone with him in the same room together. well, sometimes it's light and playful, but sometimes it's just too thick until you start doubting your self control. but the point is, the tension is always there. making it a trio out of you two–if that makes sense.

ealier today, your brother had promise to pick you up after your archery club meetings. but he suddenly has more urgent thing to do, so it just slipped your mouth, "can i ask heeseung?"

jay's head turned to you in a split millisecond. "why him? what's going on?"

"nothing. you promised to take me to the vinyl store you know,"

"you can ask mom?"

"you really think she's gonna take me there?"

he sighed. "fine. i'll talk to him."

just like that and the boy is already waiting for you in his regular fit denim jacket. with his chunky motorbike, obviously.

"had fun, katniss everdeen?" his smug smirk welcomed you. you roll your eyes, trying to ignore his smirk that somehow look flirty to you. "yes, rubeus hagrid."

he scoffs. "really? from all the characters in the world?"

"what? you're tall and ride a bike."

he nods before putting on his helmet, a smirk still evident on his mouth. "hagrid it is."

after he puts on your half face helmet, you jump behind him. "let's go."

contradicting your words, he got off his bike and looked at you in disbelief. "how can you go archery in a skirt?" his voice muffled by the helmet.

"i didn't. we're just discussing some—”

again he cuts you as he took his clothes out of the bag for you to wear. a black knit sweater fall on your nearly exposed thighs. "tie it around."

"is it 2014 or—"

"wear it or we aren't going anywhere."

you grunt silently and let the knit sleeve wrapped around your waist to cover your thighs safely. feel satisfied, heeseung back on his seat, "hold on tightly. it's so windy."

you happily obey as you did the last time he rode you home. he didn't complain tho, as if it didn't bother him nor throw him into another dimension.

as he said earlier, it's windy so it's even harder to concentrate on the road when the wind keeps blowing up his sweater on your thighs. well, he blamed it on the wind rather than his bike or you.

on the other hand, you are just enjoying his warm back, not wanting to move your head before you arrive, let alone caring about your exposed skin. even the helmet's bulkiness doesn't stop you from leaning in so shamelessly.

your thumb still absentmindedly caressing his toned stomach when he takes turn to the last turn before the vinyl store you've been thinking about all day.

you hop off the bike so cheerfully and hand him his helmet to untie his sweater from your waist and wear it on top of your shirt then run into the store. at this point, heeseung didn't even look like a brother, but more like a driver? or even a bodyguard your parents paid for their reckless daughter.

you are holding you targeted LP when heeseung arrives beside you. "oh, it was released today?" he asks.

you nod excitedly. "yes!" you almost jump on your feet.

"should i pick this or this one?" you take the deluxe version on your right hand.

"it's black and white." heeseung takes the deluxe version and read the song list on its back.

"yeah, not so match my collection."

"but it has more songs."

"exactly!" you sigh confusedly.

as usual, there are only a few visitors in the store that you are really thankful for because that means you don't need to rush your purchase.

"so? let's decide."

you exhale heavily after thinking for a while. "fine, this one." you pointing at the deluxe version on his hand. he chuckles seeing your frustrated face. "i swear you'll regret it if you don't get the completed version."

"i know." you murmur and turn around to go to the cashier.

"nah, maybe i'll just look for the vintage." a familiar voice from the entrance resonate in your eardrums as goosebumps creep through your skin.

you turn your head to heeseung. "fuck." you mumble in despair.

you pull him to the nearest corner and let him towering over you in order to shield you from the most person you avoid on earth. why is he here anyway?

you hold your LP tightly in your hand while the other mindlessly grip on heeseung shirt beneath his jacket. your breathing slowly becomes irregular as anxiety takes over your body. you keep peeking through heeseung's body that you don't realize his gaze is no longer confused but rather unreadable.

his one arm resting on the shelf next to your face. his head tilts down to look you with the most confusing expression with a slightly open mouth.

"what?" you ask casually to cover your now double anxious state. he doesn't reply but you can see his jaw tightening.

"she got me a new turntable, bro. she's crazy."

"that's what i meant a lucky bastard, bro, what the fuck?"

you bite your inner lip. "help me, please? that was my ex–ew, no, not even my ex. and he's the least person i want to meet in the world."

"why?" he asks in a low tone, making you shiver.

"it's long story–well, he cheated on me, basically–but i don't care anymore, i just don't want to face him."

his face leans closer. "still can't move on?" he asks again. half teasing, half confirming.

you scoff, a little distracted by his scent. "w-what? no! why wo–fuck,"

you saw him in the hallway, just a few meters from you.

"what do you want me to do?" in contrast to you, heeseung still sounds so relax. you feel your head spinning just from the thought of probability of him saying something if he sees you there.

"anything as long as he can't see me," you meet his sharp eyes. "...please?" your legs begin to fidget in place.

"you sure just for him not to see you?"

you frown at him. is he reading your mind?

he brushes his finger on your cheek carefully. he knows exactly what you want him to do, he's just not sure if he can actually do it. he doesn't know if his body allows it.

"david bowie is on the back shelf, i guess."

"shit, heeseung, he's here!"

"relax, ma'am. you got me."

you tiptoe on your toes and reach for his shoulder. "c'mon, heeseung," you plead.

he runs his hands on your hips and slightly tilts his head to the side.

"oh my god, be more convincing!" you squeeze the hem of his jacket.

"you want me to do this?" he whispers angrily as his nose touches yours.

you went silent for a few seconds. him, the bastard you are avoiding is surely now at heeseung's back and is looking at you two. disgusted, maybe. but he's not moving at all.

beside that, you have never been this close with heeseung. his thumbs still caressing your cheek and you unconsciously lean in to his touch. his ragged breath fanning your lips as his eyes burning through your lips. you decide to exhanging gaze with his hazzy one. he looks so resigned and helpless which you know there's no way he can take an action from now.

"ay, it's on the back shelf, bro, c'mon, leave 'em alone."

"wait."

"fuck it, hee. i'm sorry," you grab his nape and press your lips into his. you don't move an inch, just let it brush for a moment until the bastard goes to the next hallway.

finally, you pull away and exhale the breath you didn't know you were holding. but heeseung is faster. he holds your back and pulls you back to him so impossibly close then put his lips back to yours.

he kisses you slowly yet so demanding, like he means it on every movement he does. his hands roaming from your back to your side then rests in your waist. his knit sweater makes you even warmer despite the heat that radiates from your body.

"i'm not gonna bring regret to my house, y/n." he whispers between his kisses, sending a shiver down your spine, then starts to kiss you deeper.

giving up on his touch, you wrapped your arms around his neck and brushing his nape lightly. the bastard you were avoiding has now disappeared in your memory as you try so hard to keep up with his absurd yet addicting tempo. you lightly pull his hair everytime he bites your lower lip.

an unwanted whine just slips out of your mouth as his lips trailing around your jaw then back to your lips. you squirm in your place noticing your body pressed between his body and the wooden shelf behind you before pulling away.

"you don't know what you're doing to me, do you?" he asks, panting.

you stare at him blankly. honestly, you do, sometimes.

"been trying to do that since forever," he admits. you chuckle. "don't be so dramatic, we're just started talking two weeks ago."

he still stare at you, not blinking. "so long since your smile always does it for me."

you stay silent.

"i don't know what you're exactly do but please stop what you're doing to me." he says, frustrated. "don't want your brother to go feral again, do you?"

you gulp hardly. "but i don't do anything." you decide to return his stare and bite your lip. "and heeseung, i'm afraid i can't control myself after this," you admit.

his jaw tightens, again. your words and the way you said it have his body become stiff and chest rumbling.

noticing his rigidness, you tiptoe and kiss his cheek before finally running to the cashier, making the boy grunts under his breath. "god, she's impossible."

taglist [open]: @llvrhee

[laurentidal]

Stay Awhile

Harry walked into the café a little nervous for his date. He hadn't been playing the field for a few years and had finally decided to get back out there. The apps had been kinder than he'd expected for an older guy, and eventually he found himself setting up a coffee date with Alexis.

He scanned around the room and found her. He breathed a sigh of relief that she looked exactly like her pictures. She sat facing the door in a cute little skirt and a wool pullover. He waved and the smile she gave him back filled him with butterflies as he took his seat.

The talked about all kinds of things. Their jobs. Their histories. Their ambitions and passions. He told her about his divorce. She told him about her thesis defense. They agreed that both seemed equally painful. Harry felt at ease in a way he hadn't in a long time.

When they got up to leave, she asked him if he wanted to keep the date going and walk her home. She promised there were no expectations other than a walk. She just wanted to stay in his company. He eagerly agreed, and as they left the coffee shop she took his hand. He felt light as the breeze listening to her talk about how nice a day it was. The sun was shining. The wind was easy. Warm but not hot. A perfect relaxing day.

He found himself agreeing with everything she said. He let himself daydream of how it would feel to be able to agree with her forever. He was a little ahead of himself, to be sure, but it was nice to let his mind wander about good things for a change. He focused on the feeling of her hand in his. It was soft but firm. His eyes glanced to her chest, hidden beneath that bulky top. He wondered if they were soft and firm, too.

One foot fell in front of the other. Was she counting? He'd lost his train of thought, so enamored with her presence that he had drifted away from reality. He blinked and looked over at her. She was looking back at him, sly smile on her face.

"Well, this is me," she said, coming to a stop in front of a tall apartment building. He hated to let her go. There was something magnetic about her. He wanted to stay, and she seemed to know it. "You know, there's nice courtyard behind the building. We could stay there a while. If you want."

He blushed when he realized how quickly he'd agreed. He never wanted to say no to her. He marveled at how quickly he'd fallen under her spell. For her part, she just laughed and beckoned him down the alley way. Her laugh seemed to spiral around him, pulling him along after her. His face was sculpted into a dreamy smile as he watched her hips sway just ahead.

The courtyard was gorgeous, though not half as gorgeous as its occupant. She moved a chair for herself to sit, finally pulling off her wool pullover. Harry's breath caught in his throat. Underneath was a shear crop top that managed to hide nothing. Somehow, it drew even more attention to what lay underneath.

"You seem like a good man, Harry. I think you should stay a while."

All he could do was nod. He'd agreed with everything she'd said so far. He could just keep doing that, right? Besides, how could he say to no her now? She slid her legs open, and miraculously, Harry's eyes moved off of her perfect breasts and down to her exposed panties. Without really meaning to, he dropped to his knees.

"Show me how much you want to stay with me."

He knew then he would never leave.

Thanks for reading! If you are a fan of my work, consider buying me a coffee. Any contribution is insanely appreciated. 💖

[livingformintyoongi]

Hi!!!, How are you, I just read your one shot of Tae, called "Misunderstanding" and I loved it 💕, I wanted to ask you for one of him, where reader has had a bad day and is feeling a bit down, Tae realizing this, does a lot of things to comfort her, like cuddling.

Take your time to do it, thanks~ 💜💜.

Just another bad day

a/n: Hi! Thanks for making this request and for having loved "Misunderstanding", I really love this kind of situations, I was so excited to do this ^^. I hope it's what you expected, and sorry for the delay, I'm doing the requests in order and it's really hard to do more than one in one day. wc: 1.9k

You had had bad days in your life, like that time when you erased your thesis and had to do it from scratch, or that other time when your puppy disappeared for hours because the girl who was supposed to take care of it had left the door open. You could go on listing all the bad days you've had in your life, but this one? This one topped them all.

It all started when you woke up and realized that your alarm had decided not to go off this morning. To get to work on time, you were supposed to get up at six-thirty at the latest. It was eight o'clock. You decided that taking a bath wasn't important enough, you could do it at night without any problem. You got dressed as fast as you could and ran to the bus stop.

You were only a few feet away when it pulled away, leaving you at the stop, praying that the next bus would arrive as soon as possible. You gave up after ten minutes. You approached the edge of the sidewalk, trying to see if there were any cabs coming that you could hop into. 

For a second, you thought your luck had changed the instant you saw a cab approach you and accept the ride. That illusion was lost along with the car's gasoline when you were still half way there. You had no choice but to pay the fare and run half the way to work.

When you saw the big sign with the company's name on it, you almost cried with happiness. You crossed the street, this time much calmer, you still had 10 minutes left before the start time. 

But this was absolutely nothing to what happened next.

Today you had a very important meeting at work, one where they had practically promised you that you would get the promotion you had been waiting for years, something you knew you deserved, because your performance in this job had been impeccable. 

You had to lock yourself in the bathroom so that no one would see you crying from the impotence after they announced at the meeting that the promotion had been given to a guy who had joined the company only a year and a half ago. You weren't surprised to hear that it was the boss's son.

Still, you got up and tried to put your best face forward to the other workers, you knew none of them were to blame. The rest of the day continued with little accidents that were causing the urge to cry and the lump in your throat to become more and more unbearable.

To your good fortune, the trip home wasn't so horrible. You left on time, made the bus without any problems. You tried to concentrate on the pain your heels were causing in your heels instead of the constant throbbing that prevented you from breathing normally. All you wanted to do was lie down on your bed and sleep until tomorrow. 

You watched the bus window, letting one tear of the many you had been holding back come out as soon as you noticed the raindrops falling outside. You forgot to bring your umbrella. You wiped the tear away as quickly as you could, taking a long breath and letting your head fall back against the uncomfortable chair. Just a little longer, you thought, a few more minutes and you would finally be home.

Taehyung had arrived half an hour earlier than he was supposed to. They only had a photo shoot and an interview today, so he hadn't been surprised to get home so early either.

He wanted to call you to ask if you wanted to get something special to eat or if you had gone to dinner with some friends from work for the promotion you had told him you were getting today. He was almost as excited as you were when he heard the news and really wanted to celebrate in a big way, but he didn't want to overwhelm you either.

It took him a good few minutes to finally decide that making you dinner himself would be the best gift. There was nothing better than celebrating between the two of you, alone, comfortable and warm at home, especially when they had announced on the news that it would rain today.

He smiled big at the thought of how happy you would be to come home to find him waiting for you with open arms and a dinner specially made for you with the intention of celebrating your amazing work. 

He didn't count on the fact that you would come home soaked from head to toe, shivering from the cold and with slightly red eyes and nose. For a moment he almost went into a crisis.

"Honey, what happened, why are you so wet?" he ran to greet you at the door, grabbing your shoulders and trying to see your face. He knew something was wrong just by seeing how you avoided looking him in the eye.

"I forgot my umbrella" you whispered, leaving your heels aside and walking barefoot to your room. You needed to take a shower as soon as possible, you didn't want to get sick now, that would be the last straw. 

Taehyung followed you from behind quickly, resting his hand on your waist in an attempt to keep you on your feet. You looked so weak that he actually thought you would pass out right there. 

"Did you eat something? You look so pale," he paused in the doorway of your bedroom door, watching as you pulled your pajamas out from under your pillow. You were moving much slower than usual, and that only made his anxiety and worry increase even more, "Y/N, I'm starting to worry, did something happen at work? Did someone hurt you?" he moved closer to you, taking your shoulders as carefully as he could.

It almost broke his heart to see your tear-filled eyes and your bottom lip barely sticking out. "I'm so tired" you sobbed, wailing in frustration as you felt the tears just wouldn't stop falling. Still you tried to wipe them away with your shirt sleeve, "Today really was a horrible day. I could barely make it to work on time, my feet are killing me, and my stupid boss gave my promotion to his son" you said, trying to calm your sobs. You hated crying in front of your boyfriend. "I couldn't even go home in peace because I completely forgot that there was rain tonight." You shook your hair a little, sighing as you watched small drops of water fall to the ground.

Taehyung wasn't sure what to say. He hated seeing you like this, he had never seen you like this in the first place. He knew he might not be able to comfort you with his words, but he hoped he could with his actions.

"Why don't we take a long soak in the tub? We can stay a while relaxing there, try out the new water pumps we bought at Mrs. Kang's store" he whispered, pulling you gently until you were in his arms. He rubbed your back with his hand, while the other gave little pats on your head, "Then we put on those bear pajamas, remember them? You fell in love with them the first time you saw them in the online store." Taehyung smiled as he felt you nod against his chest. He kissed your head, keeping his lips against your hair for a few seconds before speaking again, "I made dinner, it might be a little cold when we're done, but we can heat it up in the microwave if you want, though we could also order takeout."

"Your dinner" you whispered, hugging his waist weakly. You felt a little better than when you arrived, but you still felt too collapsed to be able to hug him back properly.

"Well, my dinner it is," he laughed softly, pulling away just inches to kiss your forehead, "we could have a movie night, how about The notebook?"

"No, that one depresses me" you looked at Tae, letting your weight fall lightly against him, "Let's watch a romantic comedy, like The proposal, or 13 going to 30."

"Okay" Taehyung bent down a little, just enough so he could slip his arm behind your knees and waist, lifting you up in his arms and carrying you to the bathroom. "Let's go to the tub."

"And... done" Taehyung smiled, watching as your hair fell down your back, this time completely dry. "I reckon I did an excellent job, what do you think?" he hugged your waist, kissing your neck playfully. 

"I think you're the best thing that could have happened to me in my life" you whispered, turning to look at your boyfriend. He too had slightly damp hair, but only a little. His smile was so big that it ended up rubbing off on you almost immediately. He was right, long soaks in the tub were quite the mood lifter, or maybe it was just your boyfriend.

"You'll make me blush" he chuckled, resting his forehead on your shoulder. His hands caressed your abdomen, forming little circles around the bears your pajama print was wearing. 

"I'm just telling the truth" you turned around, hugging his neck and closing your eyes. The smell of his oatmeal shampoo flooded your nostrils. You loved that smell. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been here."

"Well, you would have fallen asleep without tasting my amazing signature dish," he murmured as he brought his nose close to yours. One of his hands stopped on your cheek, lightly caressing your cheekbones. He, unlike you, didn't have his eyes closed, refusing to do so and miss the sight of your beautiful face. Your long eyelashes, your reddish lips, your smile, every mole and mark you had. He didn't say it, but he also constantly wondered what would have become of him without you. "I love you, Y/N" he whispered against your lips, smiling "more than anything in this world, and I will do whatever it takes to keep the smile on the one I love."

You felt a slight tug on your chest, causing you to open your eyes. His gaze was so intense that it made your legs tremble. You let out a small sigh, momentarily looking at his lips.

"You don't need my permission to kiss me, you know?" he laughed playfully, pulling you closer by the waist so he could spread kisses all over your face.

"Taehyung!" you squealed with laughter, trying to resist his displays of affection. You both knew you weren't trying the least bit hard at that. 

Taehyung smiled at hearing your laughter again, pausing for a moment to look at your full face again. You looked so beautiful. "I'm sorry," he said softly, waiting for you to calm down a little from your laughter. 

As soon as you did, he kissed you. He caressed the back of your neck with his thumb, moving his lips against yours softly. He enjoyed slow, emotional kisses, they were his favorite.

You sighed as you felt his tongue enter your mouth, letting him explore at his leisure. He always took his time.

"I love you" he whispered between kisses, gently leaning you back on the bed.

"I love you more" you smiled, tangling your fingers in his hair.

"Liar" he laughed against your lips, hugging your waist.

"Liar" you smiled, breaking that little line that separated his lips from yours.

How you loved coming home on days like these.

Masterlist.

[specific-dreamer]

the people have spoken and i shall be writing the pic where pony and johnny never went to dally

BUT i can’t decide if it should be in darry’s pov or pony’s so i’m gonna write the start to both under the break and then you guys pick

for the people who asked to be let aware here are your tags, it's not done but here's a progress report i suppose: @theleopardstalker, @darry-queen, @skaryskeletons, @too-damn-good-for-growing-old, @dancertori24, and @johnnyburntcake

(save for when you have time because it is v important to me that you know i’ve only written the introduction, the thesis if you will, and pony section is 642 words and darry’s is 375 words. and im not even done i simply forced myself to stop there)

darry’s

darrel shaynne curtis is not a rough person. full send. well, okay, he was rough during football, but you can’t play ball and not be rough. especially not when you’re captain. then again he also loved ganging up on sodapop with ponyboy when they was younger, and well let’s just say darry always ended up bribing soda not to snitch to their mama at the end.

okay fine, maybe darry was a rough person. maybe it was that part of him that hit pony tonight. it was that part of him that scared his baby brother so bad the poor kid ran away. from him. darry was never going to forgive himself.

“darrel?”

he was never one for dramatics but he had half a mind to cut his hands off, just to make sure he never messed up like this again. he’s not too sure how’s he’d cut his left hand off after cutting his dominant hand, but that was a problem for later. then again, who’s gonna pay the bills if he has no hands to get work done.

“darrel?”

right. scratch that idea. it wouldn’t be fair on soda anyways, leaving him with the responsibilities of paying bills and keeping everyone together because darry was too fucked up to be useful.

his eye starts to twitch and his leg starts shaking. something that usually only happens when darry is real scared. it goes without saying it hasn’t done it since his mama and daddy died.

glory, he really fucked up didnt he? what if ponyboy doesn’t come back home? soda would hate darry for that. or what if pony doesn’t want to come back unless darry was gone? soda might not like it for a day or two, but his littles had always been closer with each other than they ever were with him so he might not mind so much.

darry’s not much for dramatics, he preferred to leave that to pony, but if it came down to it, darry would leave just as fast as their parents died. (…too soon?)

“darrel!”

darry jerks so hard he can taste that metallic twang that blood has. he bit his tongue and somehow, the hurt that came with it quieted his mind a little.

pony’s pov

when ponyboy wakes up, his first thought is that sodapop had to stop throwing him in the lake. no matter how many times soda threw him, pony would never learn how to swim like that.

he sits up to say just that to soda when his eyes sees someone laying on the grass. okay… he's never been at the lake without his parents before. and it’s dark outside which is really weird; his mama never lets him outside past the street lights, the last time he was out late his mama was in a worry and his dad was so mad he was honestly a little worried he was going to get the breaks beat off him if darry hadn't stepped in and took the blame.

staring at the person, pony rubs his eyes. that doesn’t matter, right now he needs to figure out which one of his dumb brothers were laying in the grass before they got a crook in their neck or before they dad came looking for them. he’s not sure what’s worse; on the one hand, whichever brother it is would surely complain and blame pony for the crook in their neck even though it’s totally not his fault. on the other hand, if their dad finds them they’d surely get the lecture of a life time and would never hear the end of it.

yeah, pony thinks with a shudder. his dad finding them would definitely be worse. pony shakily gets to his feet and walks closer to the figure. he’s only about three feet away when he sees the pool of blood and the mop of brown hair. his stomach drops before his brain remembers neither of his brothers have brown hair.

it’s only then that it occurs to pony that they aren’t at the lake. it’s only then that ponyboy is brought back to the present. that he realizes he doesn’t have to worry about his mama worrying or his dad coming to look for them. (they’re never going to worry or look for him again and, god, pony has yet to accept that, but he can’t wait for the day it hurts less to remember it.)

and it is then, when ponyboy is staring hard at the brown hair and the pool of blood, that he remembers where he is. he’s at the park. because darry hit him and he- oh god, he came here with johnny, where’s johnny?

pony whips around, his heart once again dropping. but johnny's still alive. shaking and wiping his blade on the grass, but alive. that’s good, pony doesn’t think he’d be able to make it up back home with his sanity in tact if that was johnny bleeding out.

ponyboy is so in his thoughts he can hardly hear johnny speaking, “i killed him. i killed that boy.”

pony can’t bring himself to look at johnny for too long, out of fear that his mind will start to replace the body with johnny. but yeah. he's right, johnny did kill him. pony can’t really recall his biology class real well right now, but he can remember something about how the human body can only lose so much blood and that boy has definitely lost it.

darry’s gonna be so mad at pony for getting caught up in a murder case. thats if he’s not mad at pony for getting nearly killed himself. his stomachs twists at the thought.

glory.

ponyboy almost died tonight. he knew it was always a possibility, he wasn’t going to live forever. but god. those socs really wanted to take his life tonight and for what? talking to a girl? he’s not soda, it’s not like pony ever even had a shot at cherry, even if he wanted one (and he did kind of, but not if it risked his life).

pony was shivering something fierce when be finally looked away from bob. “johnny, i think im gonna be sick.”

he barely hears johnny giving him the go ahead as he does his best not to vomit all over bob. he never liked bob but pony can at least show him a little respect since it’s his fault the kid's dead.

[patchouliauthor]

Head Over Heels | Shawn Spencer X F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. Oral sex (M! receiving), unprotected p in v, sort of subby Shawn.

Word Count: 3060

A/N: This took me so long because I've been busy with school and work but it is finally here. Hope you guys love it!

Summary: You meet Shawn at a bar and hit it off quickly.

Finally, you were done with your thesis and the research needed to graduate with your masters in behavioral analysis. To celebrate, your friends brought you out to your favorite karaoke club.

You had the best friends in the world; Janine, Mikki, and their boyfriends Larry and Garrett. Janine and Mikki were your roommates in undergrad. 

Mikki brought many guys back to your dorm room during the years you lived together, and not one of them were good enough for her and you made sure they knew. Then one day she brought home Garrett, and you just smiled at him as he left. Janine however stayed with the first guy she dated, Larry. He worshiped the ground that Janine walked on, and so you were cool with him too.

The karaoke bar was packed, but you had a perfect seat to watch people go up there and try their hand at the karaoke machine. One poor, very drunk, guy walked up and started singing “Wheel in the Sky” by Journey, and you were afraid you were going to watch this man’s soul leave his body with the amount of force he was putting into it. 

“Why don’t you get up there and sing?” Larry asked you.

“No thanks!” You scoffed. You could carry a tune but you were not much of a singer, plus you had not nearly had enough alcohol to give you the confidence to go up there.

“Leave her alone Larry, we’re here to celebrate!” Mikki said.

You all took a shot of… something. It didn’t taste good but it wasn’t really supposed to. It burnt going down and you made a slight face, but it started to do the job almost instantly.

“So now that you’ve got your degree, are you looking to settle down?” Janine asked.

“Any cute boys?” Mikki followed up.

“Not at the moment, no.” You giggled. “Oh come on, there must be someone.” Mikki said.

“When the right guy comes around, you will be the first to know.” You said.

“Let’s drink to that.” Garrett said and you all took swigs of the drinks in front of you.

After about a half an hour of mediocre singing and too many drinks, they finally convinced you to go up there. You took a few seconds to pick the song until you found it. Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears. It was perfect. You pressed play and the familiar intro played. You heard the door open and you watched as two men walked in. One was bald, wearing a button up shirt tucked into khaki colored dress pants and nice shoes. The other had brown hair and a leather jacket on, and they both lit up as they heard what song was playing. Quickly, it was your turn to sing.

“I wanted to be with you alone…” You started. The men looked up at you in amazement. Maybe you were a better singer than you thought, or maybe you were just incredibly drunk. Either way, this song was going to get sung and it was going to be by you.

You kept singing, and the brunette man never took his steely gaze off of you.

“Something happens and I’m head over heels. I never find out, ‘til I’m head over heels.” You sang loud and clear. He smiled.

When the song wrapped up, not only your table of friends applauded loudly, but so did many others in the bar, including the leather jacket wearing mystery man.

When you came down from the stage, you saw the man watching you the whole way to your table. You knew you had to talk to him, and as soon as your friends saw who you were looking at, they agreed.

“Go over there!” Janine said.

“I swear Y/N if you don’t go over there I will.” Mikki said, much to the dismay of Garrett.

You giggled and then walked towards him just to go past him and go to the bar; you do not chase men. Luckily, he apparently does the chasing and meets you at the bar.

“You sounded great up there. You a big Tears for Fears fan?” He asked.

“Oh I love them. I would play their CD’s while studying all the time. My favorite CD is Songs from the Big Chair.” You answer. 

“Mine too. My name is Shawn. Shawn Spencer.” He said.

“My name is Y/N. Nice to meet you.” You said.

You small-talked for a while, finding out the man with him is named Gus, despite Shawn attempting to give him a fake name. You also found out they work for and run a psychic detective agency. That made you laugh.

“What’s so funny?” He asked.

“You? You’re a psychic?” You asked.

“Is that so hard to believe?” He asked back.

“I mean, you don’t strike me as the ‘psychic’ type.” You said with air quotes.

“Here let me show you.” He said.

“You just finished your masters degree… that’s why you're here… you’re celebrating.” He said.

“Not bad.” You said, not quite impressed yet. “What’s my degree in?” You asked.

“My first assumption is being drop dead gorgeous, because it seems like you are an expert in that field. My second guess however, behavioral analysis.” He said.

“Wow. Color me impressed.” You said back. “One final question. Are you an Aries?” You asked.

“I am. How did you know?” He asked.

“You tell me. Maybe I’m a little psychic. Or maybe it’s hyper-observation, my masters degree, and a lucky guess.” You said.

He laughed. “Could I perhaps get your number?”

You looked over at your table to see Mikki and Janine staring at you. You held back a giggle as you wrote it down on a napkin and handed it over.

You strutted away to your table with your drink in hand. Your friends could barely hold back their excitement when you sat down and started smiling at them.

“So?” Janine asked.

“Are we the ‘first to know?’” Mikki asked, quoting you from earlier.

“You may just be.” You said.

~

Meeting up with Shawn became a pass-time. He often ran into you, claiming it was “fate” or “psychic abilities.” You still weren’t sold on the idea of being psychic. Everything you learned for your degree told you that he was probably just hyper-observant, but his skills prove to be almost superhuman sometimes. Maybe he was a lab experiment gone wrong. Or maybe it had something to do with his dad that he never talks about fondly. 

You learned a lot about him and he learned a lot about you too, and you found yourself falling for him. He was funny, quick-witted, had amazing but also questionable music taste, and was unfortunately incredibly good-looking.

He did seem to be sort of a womanizer, but you couldn’t blame him. You were also a sort of player, when you had time to be. In undergrad you broke many hearts, but once grad school started you didn’t have time for games, and you hoped that those days were over. You had a feeling that the games were just started now that you are getting involved with Shawn Spencer, but you still wanted to give it a try.

You got a call from Shawn while you were watching the channel 8 news.

“Hello?” You picked up.

“The owner did it.” He said. You were watching a report about a robbery at a local store. How he knew that you were watching the news, you didn’t know, but you had gotten used to that.

“Did the eye contact avoidance give it away to you too?” You asked him.

“You are good. Almost as good as me.” He said.

“Well I do have a degree.” You joked.

“You do indeed. Now, what would you say to a ride on my motorcycle and dinner under the stars?” He asked.

“I’d say that’s too good to be true. When do I need to be ready?” You asked back.

“Um, now?” He said.

You looked out your window and saw Shawn parked by your apartment building with a bouquet of flowers. 

“Be right out.” You said.

~

Shawn drove you to a beautiful clearing a bit out of the city on his bike. The sun was just setting and it made the whole area golden, including Shawn. He grabbed your hand and began walking towards the center of the clearing. Once you were past some of the higher grass, you saw a picnic basket and a big blanket, complete with two glasses and a big bottle of rosé.You chuckled thinking about Shawn buying what appeared to be an expensive bottle, and immediately realized it was probably with the help of Gus and his credit card. You made a mental note to get Gus a gift in return for Shawn spending his money.

Shawn led you to the blanket and then sat down, opening the picnic basket and pulling out all of your favorite picnic foods. You try to recall telling him your favorite foods, but you can’t. He’s either a really good psychic or an incredibly good stalker. You didn’t think too hard on that last thought as he looked up at you smiling. He took the glasses and poured you some of the champagne. You took a sip and let the alcohol burn your throat.

You didn’t talk much, just occasionally cracking jokes, taking sips, and picking at the food he brought. You rarely ever felt as content as you did in Shawn’s presence.

“You are so beautiful.” Shawn said, barely above a whisper while you were looking at the stars that recently became visible.

You turned to look him in the eyes to find he was looking at your lips. You hadn’t kissed him yet but god did you want to. It’s not that he hadn’t tried to before, because he had, you just wanted to play hard to get. You knew that tonight that you didn’t have that resolve.

He smiled as he lifted his eyes to meet yours. You were suddenly aware of how close he was; you could smell the mint toothpaste and rosé on his breath. 

“Please.” Is all he could muster to say, and with that single syllable your lips were on his. It was a sweet kiss, so sweet you wished it was your first kiss ever. His lips brushed over yours so gently you were afraid he was going to pull away. Instead, he leaned in further and deepened the kiss. His hand reached up to the back of your head to pull you even closer to him. You obliged, scooting closer on the picnic blanket and knocking over your half full champagne glasses onto the grass.

You reached up to place your hand on the back of his head. You couldn’t help yourself and you tugged lightly on the short hairs on the nape of his neck. At the feeling, he whimpered the slightest bit. To try and cover it up he lightly pushed you until you were on your back and he was hovering above you.

“That was a dirty move.” He said as his lips moved down to your neck teasingly. You tried to keep your composure but his words made you squirm a little and you felt him smile against the skin of your neck.

Things quickly picked up speed, and as he feverishly kissed your lips he put his knee in between your legs at the perfect spot. You did your best to rub against his knee without him noticing, but you failed. He pulled away from you.

“Tsk. Naughty, naughty.” He said, smirking.

“Shawn, please.” You said, frustration evident.

“Oh, poor thing. Do you want to fuck you right here in the field?” He said, mocking you. You moaned at his words. 

“No. I want our first time to be special. Get up.” He said and quickly got off of you. You just blinked at him in surprise and didn’t move. He reached a hand out to you. “Come on, I’ll take you back to my place.”

You reached up to grab his hand and he pulled you to your feet. He kept hold of your hand and started walking towards his bike.

“What about the picnic stuff?” You asked.

“Do you really care about that right now?” He asked back.

You smiled at him before shaking your head no. He smiled back and started pulling you towards his bike. You weren’t certain in the dark, but when he turned it looked like his jeans were becoming a little too tight for his comfort. 

Once you were both on the bike, he began flying towards his apartment. It was so fast but not fast enough, and you were needing more friction to soothe the problem Shawn had started. You tried to secretly grind down on the motorcycle seat. It was helping but not enough, so you began to pick up speed. Your breath was getting funny at the contact, and it was moments before Shawn noticed.

He didn’t stop you. Something about you getting off on his bike was making him go feral. He even fantasized about fucking you over top of it while you wore his leather jacket. He needed you as much as you needed him. It was then you both looked over and realized you were about to pass the Psych office. As much as he wanted to make your first time special, he had to have you right then and there, so he pulled over and hurried to the door, leaving you on the bike. You followed right behind him as he fiddled with the key to the door. 

He unlocked the door and pushed you inside, immediately finding your mouth with his in the darkness. He shut and locked the door behind him without ever leaving your skin. Your lips never left his as you both walked back until your knees hit the leather couch by the window and you sat back onto it. His lips left yours and he yanked his shirt over his head swiftly before returning to you. As you kissed him you fiddled with his belt until you were able to pull his pants down, showing off the tent in his boxers. You didn’t give him time to think before you yanked his boxers down, showing off his large cock.

“Woah, slow down.” He whined. “You’re still fully clothed.” 

You didn’t care, and you reached to grab his length, pumping him up and down. He threw his head back. You loved to see him like this, and while he was blissed out from the pleasure your hand was giving him, you put your mouth on him. 

“Oh Jesus, doll. You’re gonna kill me.” He said.

You bobbed up and down on his length, and what you couldn’t fit you stoked with your hand. He grabbed your hair back into a ponytail while you pleasured him, reaching your other hand down to rub yourself through your jeans.

“You feel so good.” He choked out. You could tell that he was resisting the urge to fuck your mouth. You released him with a pop and pumped him with your hand, feeling the wetness from your mouth and the precum leaking from his tip.

“I need you so bad.” He said, pupils blown out with lust.

“Come and get me.” You said back.

Wrong thing to say.

You had never had your clothes taken off of you so fast in your life. In seconds you were completely naked, on your back with him hovering over top of you. He lined himself up with your entrance before looking into your eyes.

“Tell me to stop.” He said.

“I can’t.” You said back. He gave you a swift kiss and then rested his forehead on yours as he pushed himself into you. You moaned in harmony with him. He waited for you to adjust to him before he moved.

“Just tell me when, sweetheart.” He said. You couldn’t make out words so you kissed him to signal you were ready.

He pushed in and out of you slowly, filling you up with each stoke. He was taking his time with you, savoring the moment of you under him on the leather couch. Everytime he comes back to work he's going to think of you taking his cock right here.

He started to speed up and you moaned. “Kiss me.” You said and he obliged. As he filled you up below, his tongue explored every inch of your mouth. Both of you were sweating, moaning messes.

You could feel yourself getting so precariously close to the edge. You knew you only needed a little bit more to get you there. It was at this moment that Shawn reached down and starting rubbing circles on your clit, adding just the right amount of pressure. How did he know that was what you wanted so badly? Maybe he is psychic. The way he touched you exactly where you wanted without you having to say a word made you think he just might be.

You were thrown headfirst over the edge. The feeling was so good you thought you might cry. His hips faltered as he pulled out of you clumsily, releasing all over your stomach. Before he got too soft, he shoved himself back into you and rested his head on your shoulder. You both panted as you came down from your highs.

“I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you at the karaoke bar.” He said, still out of breath.

“Well after tonight, I think you’ll have many more chances to do it again.” You said and smiled. He returned your smile.

“Do you think we should probably leave now so we don’t forget to by the time Gus comes in in the morning?” You asked.

“That is the first time someone has mentioned Gus right after having sex.” He said.

“Shawn.” You said laughing.

He laughed too and got up to find something to clean you off with. After he cleaned you up, you both got dressed and rode back to his apartment, where he got to go at you all over again. You knew that no matter what, you would never forget your time with Shawn in the Psych office, mostly because he’d always be there to remind you of it.

[tkthrilla-writes]

OOK OK OK SO I know I have been away for a VERY LONG TIME.

Basically i had to move apartments... TWICE

Started my thesis

And struggled a bit with my work

BUT

I am on a trip and Lord knows I got some ideas while on it!!!!!!!

Imagine being on a work trip and taking an 8 hour long car drive and not being able to do anything but listen to other people fighting over directions and listening to bad modern music. You would just be sitting in the backseat all nice and calm, meanwhile Alastor would be absolutely infuriated with the lack of coordination some people had and the disgusting and obscenely sexual songs. This man is being driven up the walls!!!!!

Cue this man messing with the radio to piss people off more. Making it glitch, randomly turning it off - but since people depended on it for the damned gps he left that part alone since he didn't want to endanger his host and himself to some moron on the wheel driving into a tree or something.

Then came the Spotify queueing playlist rounds. Whenever it was your turn to pick what songs that should be playing you tried to play something that Alastor would enjoy because you could feel his presence becoming more irritated by the second and mixing in more of your songs so that people don't stay skipping your songs.

Most of your selected Alastor specific songs did satisfy him.... But let's just say a few of your songs hit a little WAAAAAAY TOO close to home for him and his current predicament with his host.

Now you finally arrived at your destination, people settle in. and of course you end up getting a room that you have to share with two other people and of course you get the top bunk bed that is absolutely hard to get on because the ladder is right under squished attic ceiling that makes you have to crawl and gymnastics your way up to even sleep.

Alastor was definitely not happy in the few moments that he took over and had to do that. He ended up making you both look like a spider monkey with broken legs failing at crawling.... Which did make a couple people laugh at you ..... He refused to come out and try to enjoy the trip after that.

But then came the day time when you would all go out to do activities. Which mostly consisted of hiking and exploring museums so he was very happy to know you would be keeping up your physical activities despite being away from home while still broadening your horizons and educating yourself on history and art.

Then came that ecursed night half way into the trip. You decided to try going out to a bar/night club. And of course you dress the most decently out of everyone else. And of course you attracted the most attention while out on the dance floor. And of course this nearly mad Alastor reach a breaking point, barely holding it back long enough for you to reject other people's advances. And of course it was about to break for a split second when one of the people you are on a trip with decided to start flirting with you and try to drunkenly seduce you.

Timeskip to the next day and everybody is tense..... Only thing that was audible during breakfast aside from people eating was the very obvious feedback coming out of the stereo coupled with the music. Once breakfast was done people silently shuffled and started to clean up, slowly slowly starting chatter on what was going to be done throughout the day.

Some people wanted to stay in and nurse their hangover from the night before, some wanted to go out to another hike. You feeling sore from all the walking AAANDD trying to get some peace and quiet from people, opted to stay in and just have an easy day - besides there were 3 days left on this trip you can afford a day if resting. Plus you had a feeling that Alastor just wanted to be around less people despite you having a good time so far.

So here you are just in the bathroom, having your own privacy. You put on a playlist that obviously focused mostly on your songs.

The shower was heavenly after a night out at a sticky and sweat bar with Constant Craving in the background. A nice hair scrub to Soulmate Died. A great rinse to Older. And one must not forget the Jam session to the epic Every Breath You Take. Lastly there was that nice face cleaning to Let the World Burn.

And that was when the Radio Demon snapped

A chain around your neck appeared, and with a forceful tug, your nose was up touching the mirror, with your breath fogging it up. Heart rate spiking from the shock. Senses becoming heightened at the figure in the mirror.

All you could see was a shadow.... Alastor's shadow.... With his face directly Infront of yours. Eyes both holding radio dials, smile becoming tight and stretched with stitches on the corners of his mouth as if to try to hold back his face from splitting apart, sharp yellow teeth becoming heightened from the harsh green glow of the chain that seemed to look like it was going right into the mirror. As if holding up a failed attempt to hold himself back, his teeth started to chatter from whatever he was trying not to do.

"You really do not understand what you are doing?" he said, grinding his teeth as his mouth stretched quite literally ear to ear, showing off his teeth.

"I don't know what you are talking about," you said calmly despite your heart beating a million miles in a minute, making the blood rush in your ears nearly the only thing you can hear.

"I could kill you right here, right where you stand."

"And I would still be happy."

"I could snuff out that pretty little life of yours."

"And then I will breath again in my next one."

"I can drag you down to the deepest depths of hell."

"But I will be able in heaven when I'm with you."

A beat if silence

"You really know how to make a man struggle with his inner mist desires Mon Ange....." his smiled started to thin, reaching a small point where blood started to drip out of his mouth, following his jaw line, to drip down. Somehow landing on the sink tap below the mirror.

"Now thats not on me," you say with a slight chuckle, "sounds like a you kind of problem." You taunted, using the sink to lift you up further to place and rest your forehead right where his would be on the mirror. The mirror fogging up with your breath and staining coming in contact with your bare skin.

"You should know by now," he started, you could feel him reciprocating your actions through the mirror, his face coming closer to yours, "that my problem," he lifts his hand up to rest on the mirror, "is your problem too," he ends with you raising your hand to match where his is on the mirror. It was almost like you were holding his hand, the closest form of contact you probably ever come into with eachother.

Till obviously someone outside the bathroom has to ruin the mood with a loud bang on the door "ARE YOU DONE FUCKING YOURSELF IN THERE!!! I REALLY NEED A SHOWER!"

And in an instant "Please let me kill them."

"No Ali." You said calmly used to his shenanigans, leaving the mirror in favour of getting dressed, the chain disappearing the moment you pull away.

Finally came the day to leave, much to your sadness because you were enjoying yourself and really needed the break, and much to Alastor's pleasure because he really despised the company at present.

As a form of self entertainment, when it was your turn to drive in the ungodly hours of the morning and everyone was asleep in the car, he would take over your body so you could sleep and rest as well. A faint semi tight smile present on his face as he finally was able to put on music that he actually truly enjoyed. And when it was someone else's turn - particularly the other person in the car who had the audacity to get drunk and flirt with you - he made sure to scramble a few traffic cameras to view the car as a speeding vehicle so that person may or may not have a surprise ticket or two when they get home.

AND THATS IT EVERYBODY - NOW ALL OF YOU GO TO HORNY JAIL!

[leiawritesstories]

illicit affairs

credit to my bestie @rowanaelinn who gave me the prompt and encouraged this whole story ily bb 🫶

Word count: 3.3k (oops)

CW: swearing, alcohol, infidelity (cheating), smut. it's NSFW y'all, minors please stay away for your own sanity, it's...dirty dirty. i'm gonna go bleach my eyes now.

enjoy! (i hope...)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aelin didn’t know when the spark had gone out, only that it had. She woke up that July morning to an empty bed, an empty house, and her hopeful half-smile faltered and crumbled, all her illusions of the fairytale marriage she’d dreamed of since childhood splintering into dust and ashes.

She really should have been anticipating this day. It's not like anything about the situation was unexpected--it was so painfully obvious that Chaol wasn't interested in her anymore that they really should have just ended the marriage already. But both he and Aelin were stubborn-minded, unwilling to just let their marriage die when they could still look back on their honeymoon phase and see sparks of something that might be theirs again.

Chaol was Aelin's high school sweetheart; they'd met during their sophomore year, instantly hit it off, and had been inseparable ever since. They'd gone to university together, and he had proposed to her when they were only 19, just after freshman year. Not wanting to wait forever, they'd decided to get married when they were both 21--looking back, Aelin knew that had been their first mistake. They were so young, so full of hopes and dreams.

Real adult life wasn't yet reality to them.

And here they were now, at 24, married for three years and drifting apart for a year and a half. She'd noticed the shift in their marriage when Chaol got his first promotion at his job and started spending longer hours in the office, coming home later and later. Back then, he still came home to her, not to his work. He'd push open their front door, dump his laptop bag on the floor, and come to her. She'd smile and welcome him, kiss him, ask him how his day was and listen to his stories, always eager to help him destress however she could.

Not quite a month later, he stopped sharing every story from his work day. She didn't mind--didn't really notice. She was busy with her own graduate studies, which were getting more intense, and as much as she loved her husband and wanted to be there for him however she could, he had to reciprocate the feeling for anything to work. He started working even longer hours, claiming the new projects his bosses kept shoving onto his desk were eating his time.

She believed everything he said. Stupid, foolish, stupid Aelin.

Months passed, then a year. By then, Aelin was going to bed alone, leaving Chaol's dinner in the fridge or on the stove, not bothering to wait up for him when she didn't even know when he'd be home. Besides, with the thesis she was writing, she didn't have the time or the energy to devote to spectacular meals. She hardly even woke up when he finally slipped into bed beside her--when he still slept beside her.

It was only a month or two ago when the fragile peace they still maintained cracked. When Chaol came home early--for once!--and found her buried in her work, with books and documents spread across the table, her long-since-empty coffee cup abandoned beside her, typing furiously away on her thesis. When he called a hello that she didn't return, because she didn't hear him. He snapped at her that evening, said that he felt like he couldn't talk to her anymore.

He slept in the spare bedroom that night. And Aelin didn't even feel any difference--she was asleep as soon as she dragged herself into bed, worn out from the day, her work, and the argument.

~

The morning it all shattered, she woke up to a silent, empty bedroom. She'd grown used to the emptiness, the quietude of having her own room, but this was different. Silent. Too silent.

Yawning, she rolled herself out of bed, washed her face, and tucked her feet into her favorite beat-up old slippers before heading downstairs. "Chaol?"

No response.

Her forehead crinkled. "Chaol? You home?" she called, heading into the kitchen. Still nothing.

Not until she'd gone through the motions of making coffee did she realize that certain things were missing--his favorite coffee cup, namely. That was when it hit her. He was gone. Probably for good.

Aelin expected to feel shocked, numb, angry, empty--anything but what she felt. Instead, she just shrugged and poured her coffee. It was always going to happen, a little voice in the back of her mind whispered. You've known so for months.

Yeah, she had.

~

That night, Aelin came home from a rather tiring session with her advisor, left her backpack on the floor, and reached for her phone, tapping Lysandra's contact.

<<bitch, get ready, we're going out

>>when?

<<now. soon. as soon as we're ready.

>>meet you at stag's? with shots ofc

<<you're the best, babes

Aelin showered quickly, dried off, and put on her little gold dress, the metallic material still molding to her body as perfectly as it had the first time she'd tried it on. She'd been shopping with Lys and Elide, who'd all but ordered her to get the dress, thinking it might lead to a night of fun with her husband.

Chaol hadn't even seen the dress. And, Aelin realized, giving herself a once-over in the mirror, he didn't deserve to.

She did her makeup heavier than usual, lining her eyes in bold, sharp flicks of liquid black and dusting her eyelids with gold. She painted her lips crimson, holding them apart for a few minutes to let the lipstick dry so it would be smudge-proof. When she looked in the mirror for one last check, she was caught off-guard. She looked...different.

She looked alive.

She looked fucking hot, and she was ready to go meet her best friend at their favorite club and forget her failed marriage.

The last thing Aelin did before leaving the house was tug her wedding ring off her finger and drop it into the shallow jewelry dish atop her dresser. She'd stopped wearing it in public months ago--if Chaol was going to act like they weren't married, then why should she keep up the farce? She kept it on at home, though, still clinging to the last threads of their union.

No longer.

~

Lysandra whistled when she saw Aelin. "Hot damn, girl!"

"Stop," Aelin laughed, stiletto heels clicking as she headed across to Lysandra's seat. Four shot glasses were ready and waiting, two of them filled with clear liquid and the other two with something colorful and sweet-smelling.

Lys wiggled her perfectly threaded eyebrows. "Someone's gonna catch a man tonight, hmm?"

Aelin winked. "That's the idea." She picked up one of the shots. "Cheers, bitch!" Tapping her glass against Lys's, she downed the shot. Then the next. With the alcohol warming her blood, she glanced over to the dance floor, her foot tapping along to the music.

Lys grinned like the wickedly clever woman she was. "C'mon, bitch, we're dancing!"

Aelin swept her gaze across the crowded floor, searching. "Lys, babes, I don't see anyone worth--" Her sentence cut off as her best friend all but dragged her out among the dancers.

"Just enjoy yourself!" the brunette yelled, tipping her head back and grinning.

Quickly, Aelin list herself in the thumping bass, the pounding melody, the near-indecent rhythm of the dancing. She'd only been dancing for a few minutes when she felt someone's hands slip around her waist and tug her back against a chiseled, decidedly male body. And gods fucking burn her, his body felt divine against hers, moving in perfect sync with her and the music, coaxing her hips to slide against his. She wound one arm up behind his neck, sliding her manicured nails into his cropped, silky hair, and leaned in closer, catching the scent of pine forests and icy mountain breezes.

"What's your name, gorgeous?" he purred into her ear, his breath fanning against her skin.

Smoothly, she spun to face him, which conveniently aligned her breasts with his chest. Fuck, he was gorgeous--at least six foot four, chiseled muscles, a tattoo snaking up the length of his left arm and flicking onto his cheekbone. Eyes the color of the Oakwald Forest captured hers, smoky promise burning in their depths.

"Don't make me ask again, princess," he warned, the hint of command in his tone sending fire racing down her spine.

She hooded her eyes. "Aelin."

"Aelin," he repeated, rolling her name like fine wine on his tongue.

She wouldn't mind that tone rolling in other places, hell no she would not.

"What's your name," she asked in return, letting the pause drag on before she added, "sir?"

He sucked in a sharp breath, and she could have sworn his hands slipped closer to the hem of that little golden dress. "Since you asked so nicely, I'm Rowan." His lips brushed the side of her neck, a bare hint of a touch. "But you can call me sir," he murmured, splaying one broad hand against the bare skin of her back, exposed by the cut of her dress.

Burning hell.

"Rowan," she whispered, her voice dropping to a throaty purr, turning the two syllables into something borderline explicit.

His hands flexed against her skin, pulling her even closer, fingertips brushing her thigh--just under the hem of her dress. "You're going to keep quiet for me, princess." Not a request, an order. An order that sent sparks dancing through her blood. That damn hand inched farther up her skirt. "Answer me."

"Yes, sir," she breathed, eyes fluttering closed in anticipation.

His smug, dark little chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. "Remember, princess, we're on a public dancefloor. Nobody gets to know that you're--fuck--soaking wet for me." He'd found her lacy little scrap of underwear, which was indeed soaked with arousal.

"Yes sir." Her vocabulary was apparently reduced to those words.

Rowan kissed her neck, a teasingly light peck of his lips. "Good girl." The endearment sent a new rush of arousal pooling between her thighs--which, of course, he felt. His smug smirk only grew. "Turn around, princess, keep grinding on me. I know how wet it made you." Keeping that hand under her skirt, he spun her around, splaying his free one across her stomach, pinning her in place.

She sucked back a gasp at the power of the maneuver, forcing her legs to stay strong, not to waver and collapse like they wanted to. "Sir," she breathed, body a little tense with the waiting.

He kissed the side of her neck. "Relax, princess. Dance for me." He guided her into motion, swaying with the pulsing thump of the music blaring all around them. She closed her eyes, letting the rhythm take over, leading her body. "Good girl," Rowan whispered into her ear.

As a reward, his finger dragged up the seam of her panties, landing squarely on her needy clit. Her mouth dropped open, head falling back against his shoulder, hips rocking against the pressure of his hand.

Though she couldn't see his face, she knew full well that smug male smirk of his was firmly in place. "Look at you all dripping wet for a stranger, and I've barely even touched you." Shoving her panties aside, he teased her sex for a few seconds before sliding one thick finger into her, pulling a faint moan from her throat. He clicked his tongue. "Uh-uh, princess. Quiet."

She pressed her lips together, forcing the sounds she wanted to make to be silent. "Please," she breathed, her dancing smoothly slipping into time with the pumping of his fingers.

He chuckled darkly. "Such pretty manners." Another finger slid in beside the first, those two fingers stretching her more, filling her deeper than Chaol ever had. She banished the stray thought--no need to think about him when this moment was already so good. Rowan's hand sped up, working her higher, keeping her moving so nobody around them would be able to tell he had his fingers buried into her in the middle of the very public dancefloor.

Aelin felt herself getting closer, blood singing with the pleasure shooting through her veins. Subconsciously, she gripped Rowan's forearm, sweat beading on her forehead from the effort of keeping quiet. "Please, sir," she begged, practically thrusting herself onto his hand. "So close, please--oh!" A moan tore out of her as he crooked his fingers, brushing that sensitive ridge inside of her.

In a heartbeat, his fingers were gone, and she'd spun around to face him again, meeting the darkness in his gaze. He shook his head, laughing smokily at the shock and arousal mingled on her face. "You disobeyed, princess."

"I--"

"I told you to keep quiet." He caressed the curve of her ass, the gold material of her dress molding to her like a second skin. "What happens when you disobey, princess?"

Aelin's breath shuddered out in a long gasp, all coherent speech failing her.

Rowan's lips quirked up. "Open your mouth." She did. He placed his fingers at her lips. "Taste yourself, princess." Not really waiting for her to move, he slid his fingers into her mouth. She wrapped her crimson-stained lips around his fingers, tongue flicking around the digits in a way that could only be described as explicit.

He chuckled, knowing she'd behave. "That's right, princess, be a good girl and clean me up." When he'd all but choked her with his fingers for long enough, he withdrew, sinful promise lighting his eyes. "Can you stay quiet for me now?" She nodded. "Words, princess."

"Yes, sir," she whispered, clenching her thighs together.

He tracked the movement. "Mmm, perhaps we should take this somewhere else." A soft, teasing kiss against her pulse point. "I don't think the whole club should see your pretty little cunt, hmm?"

Aelin could barely think through the heady rush of arousal that washed over her senses at Rowan's filthy words. In a single blurred moment, they were in the club's bathroom, the door locked behind them, and he'd lifted her onto the countertop. She loosed a little squeak at the unexpected cold of the marble, the sound rapidly turning into a groan as he shoved her skirt up around her waist, exposing the completely soaked scrap of black lace she called panties.

"I don't think we need these anymore," he hummed, yanking the lace off of her. And burying his face in her sex.

Aelin moaned deeply, gripping the edge of the countertop to keep herself upright. "Fuck!"

Rowan pulled away, making a tsking sound. "What did I tell you, princess?"

"I--quiet, sir," she panted, just about ready to beg for his touch.

"Seems you need a little help with that." Rising, he stuffed her panties into her mouth, the essence of her arousal exploding on her tongue. "Now hold. Fucking. Still."

She didn't even have time to nod before his tongue was back in her sex, licking a long, rough line up her folds. She arched into his touch, gasping at the way he grasped her hips, both to support her and to angle her better for the devouring. His tongue--gods, she'd never felt the way he made her feel. He alternated long, rough strokes with teasing little flicks, plunging his tongue into her sex and then flicking it around her clit, keeping her just teetering on the edge of orgasm.

Desperate, she gripped the countertop harder, using all of her might not to scream as Rowan raised his eyes to hers, unchecked hunger in their depths, and sucked her clit into his mouth. The scrape of his teeth was enough to set her off--but she held on, knowing that he'd punish her if she came without his command.

"Good fucking girl," he groaned into her sex. "Come for me, princess."

She didn't need encouragement--the way he nibbled at her throbbing clit was more than enough to send her into orgasm, her body shuddering with the force of her climax. He latched his mouth onto her and lapped up everything she gave him, letting out a moan himself at the taste of her, thick and sweet on his tongue.

"So fucking gorgeous when you come," he groaned, lifting himself up to pull her panties out and claim her lips, his kiss just as dominating as the rest of him. He swept his tongue through her mouth, angling her head to meet his.

Aelin groaned into his kiss, her body already throbbing with need for him again. "Please," she panted, grasping his shoulders to keep herself stable. "Please, sir."

"Please what?" he asked, knowing full well what she wanted but needing to hear her beg.

Her chest heaved. "Please fuck me, sir, I need you."

"Good girl." He kissed her again, all tongue and dominance. "Spread your legs for me, princess."

She did.

Slotting his hips between her legs, Rowan shoved his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, smirking at the way Aelin's bright eyes widened at the sight of him. "Think you can stay quiet now, princess?"

"I might need a little instruction, sir," she purred, lowering her lashes and peeking up at him. Fuck, she was impossible.

"If you say so," he smirked, pumping himself a few times. "Hold still, princess." She nodded, and he moved forward, pushing into her. Fucking hell, she was perfect. Tight and warm around him, her walls squeezing his cock. "Loosen up, princess," he whispered, stroking her clit to help her ease up. Her jaw fell open as he shoved the rest of the way in, grunting.

"Sir," she groaned, gripping his shoulders, her lovely face screwing up with pleasure.

"Quiet, princess," he warned, practically shaking with the effort of not slamming into her until she couldn't even think. She panted, hips rocking just enough to let him know how much she needed him. "Want me to move?"

"Please," she whispered.

"Good girl." He pulled back and slammed back in, setting a near-frantic, heavy pace. She moaned, unable to keep the sound back, and he clicked his tongue, sliding one hand up her body. "Tap my thigh twice if it's too much, okay?" She nodded. He kissed her hard, swallowing her groan, and wrapped his hand around her throat, keeping his grip light.

Aelin felt fire racing through her nerves at the pressure of Rowan's hand around her throat. She gripped his shoulders tighter and matched the frenetic pace of his thrusts, leaning into his grip enough that he tightened his hold, hand flexing against her throat, muttering filthy promises and praises into her ear. So quickly, she felt herself hurtling toward climax, and if the way his hips stuttered was any indication, he was close as well.

"Come for me, princess," he commanded, squeezing her throat in time with the way his hips pounded into hers, his cock deeper in her than anything she'd ever felt.

She exploded, mouth open in a silent scream as she came around his dick. He groaned her name into her neck, his control snapping as he spilled into her.

Slowly, they both came down, Rowan removing his hand from Aelin's neck and stroking her back as he pulled out. He reached for some paper towels, wet them, and carefully cleaned her up--an oddly gentle contrast to the domineering man who'd fingered her in the middle of the club dancefloor and then fucked her into oblivion in the bathroom.

Not until her dress was back in place and she was strolling onto the dancefloor--albeit a little shakily--did the realization of what she'd just done hit Aelin. Swiftly, she dropped Rowan's hand and ran, weaving through the throngs of dancing bodies until she was out of the club, out in the bracing cool of the night air.

That night, Aelin Galathynius cheated on her husband with a man she’d just met.

And gods burn her, it was the most alive she’d ever felt.

What the fuck had she just done?

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@mis-lil-red

[catindabag]

TBOSAS Crack! Take: How Casca & Crassus “Accidentally” Made Panemvision.

Ok. First off, this is just purely for the laughs after a lot of late night drunken shenanigans with some friends. Also, this take was inspired by that Hunger Games + Eurovision post by the-fatal-impact (here). And after watching that Netflix Eurovision movie, The Story of Fire Saga, I think it’s about time to create this HG AU, featuring the Capitol’s No. 1 karaoke party loving delinquents, the irresistible drop dead gorgeous Crassus Snow and his dramatic boyfriend, Casca Highbottom.😂

Heads Up: In this AU, the first 9 Hunger Games still stayed the same (with all the killing and suffering) because Dr. Gaul and her team altered the final thesis paper of Crassus & Casca out of spite.

I mean, the insane doctor definitely loved the first half of the paper about a bunch of District kids competing. However, when she got to the singing contest part, she almost tried to burn their “accursed” paper to bits. She also even wanted to strangle her top idiot students for having the audacity to propose such ludicrous nonsense to her.

But after some deliberations, Dr. Gaul decided to grudgingly keep half of their original ideas and added her own sadistic twist to the game. Of course, her “changes” were approved by her team in order to “properly” punish the rebels. But honestly, this is the only way to finally kick the two karaoke addicts out of her life by letting them graduate.

However, years later, everything changed when the Game Makers added a bunch of borderline insane delinquent students from The Academy (of Arts) as Mentors for the 10th Hunger Games, not knowing that a poor cabbage boy named Coriolanus Snow kept a copy of his dead father’s final thesis proposal (AKA: the infamous ✨Panemvision✨ paper that Dr. Gaul wanted to burn), and is ready to change the Hunger Games forever in the name of love money.😌💅

So here’s how it happened:

So one sunny afternoon, Dr. Gaul asked all of her graduating students to create a punishment for one’s enemies so extreme that they would never be allowed to forget how they had wronged you. At first, they were all concerned and confused. Some even got worried for a second. However, they all quickly started brainstorming when their teacher threatened to fail and expel them from the University (of Arts).

Of course, Casca Highbottom was not thrilled by their predicament, even though he really wanted to graduate with his best friend/secret boyfriend, Crassus. So instead of doing the assignment, he just went to their favorite Nightclub to get roaring drunk.

But the ever gorgeous Crassus Snow was not having any of his boyfriend’s BS. Casca promised him that they would graduate together since the first grade! Since their first kiss! Since the day Casca asked him out on a date! So Snow followed his BFF to Pluribus Bell’s Nightclub.

When Crassus got there, Casca was already drunk AF. He tried to convince his very drunk boyfriend to go home with him and work on their assignment. He even offered to carry him back. Alas, nothing worked.

Casca refused to go along with Snow’s sassy excuses and threatened to throw pink confettis at him.

However, after some back and forth arguments, Casca finally gave in when Crassus threatened to breakup with him.

But before they leave, Highbottom demanded Snow to drink one glass or two, and sing at least 10 songs of his choosing to celebrate their last “hurrah” as University students.

So they did. They got roaring drunk. They sang their freaking hearts out, and annoyed Pluribus Bell and his patrons nonstop. Some even claimed that their late night karaoke shenanigans disturbed President Ravenstill’s beauty sleep.

So after singing Heaven is a Place on Earth and Snow On The Beach , they finally decided to write their last assignment on a piece of napkin. They also decided to name their paper ✨The Hunger Games: Panemvision!✨

Basically, Panemvision is a “game” where a bunch of randomly chosen District kids (between the ages of 12 to 18) compete in a spectacular singing contest (whether they’re talented or not) to help their respective District receive food bonuses and other perks from the Capitol.

They also agreed to place a “no killing, no gore, no cannibalism” policy to force the losers to live with their humiliation on LIVE TV forever.

And that is how you properly punish your enemies by recording and broadcasting them live on television for all of Panem to see and remember. However, if you’re talented, you’re basically safe from the inevitable humiliation.

Moreover, drunk!Crassus Snow insisted that they have to write all of it down inside their favorite nightclub to immortalized their last moments as the “Wild Karaoke Duo Delinquents of the Capitol.”

The next day, the couple woke up in Casca’s bed, naked. No one really knows what happened to their clothes, but future historians agreed that the two drunk idiots threw them in front of the Presidential Palace by accident.

And let’s just say that last night ended in a mystery, and it will stay a mystery until the Mockingjay sings.

Alas, when the two idiots finally had the courage to face and ask Dr. Gaul about their assignment, which they accidentally sent to her last night, she only told them that their paper was so obnoxiously stupid and unforgivably ridiculous. It may even start a different kind of “revolution” if their moronic ideas will see the light of day.

However, Dr. Gaul did confess that the first part of their paper was quite interesting. But as for the rest, they might as well burn to ashes.

Well, who cares! They still miraculously graduated with flying colors at the end of the day. Their professors even gave them a special award for writing and presenting their crazy thesis paper in front of the class.

Then the infamous ✨Crasca University Breakup✨ happened, and everything started to go downhill for both Snow and Highbottom.

Casca even became so depressed when he heard that his former lover, Crassus Snow decided to date a rich older businessman from District 2 named Strabo Plinth just to spite him.

Years later, after the First Rebellion, and after General Crassus Snow’s unfortunate death, the Capitol was in control again!

Dr. Gaul implemented her own version of the Hunger Games to punish the Districts for their treasonous actions. She also made Casca Highbottom the new Dean of The Academy (of Arts) out of spite.

And the true reason why Highbottom became a morphling addict was because of his former lover’s death. Also, he greatly despises Strabo Plinth (and his son) for some reason. #Crasca4Ever

But have no fear! Our poor cabbage boy, Coriolanus Snow and his crazy Mentor friends will eventually change the course of history by reintroducing the “real” version of the Hunger Games. Panemvision will rise and dominate the world and District 13 can stay mad and sad forever because they’re not allowed to join the fun!

That’s what you get for starting a war, District 13! No ✨Panemvision✨ for you!

[holy--milk]

TGCF modern AU

I should be working on my master’s thesis right now, so in the typical me fashion I’m devoting my time and energy to making up silly TGCF fic scenarios instead fdshjdsjdshjds

Xie Lian meets a teenager at a bus stop at night who introduces himself as San Lang and tells him that he ran away from home after a fight with his family and now has nowhere to stay. Naturally, Xie Lian is like “No way you’re spending the night in the streets” and brings him to his cheap ass flat.

They live like that for a few days, with Xie Lian spending most of the day at work while San Lang takes care of his run-down flat for him by doing repairs (he turns out to be quite handy) and cleaning because he wants to do something nice for this nice weirdo that took him in. In the evenings, they have dinner and chill together, with Xie Lian coming to appreciate the teenager’s company more and more.

It goes on like that for a while until one day, when they go grocery shopping together, San Lang gets cornered by a shady-looking man with an eyepatch who starts going on at him for “throwing a tantrum like a fucking child and running away”. Seeing this, Xie Lian immediately intercedes and tells the man to leave the kid alone or else—

The shady man just kinda stands there dumbfounded, looking at this unassuming guy half a head shorter than him, acting as if he’s both willing to and capable of whooping his ass right there in the cereal aisle at a supermarket. Then he leaves without saying anything.

On the way home San Lang is being uncharacteristically quiet, and once they arrive back at Xie Lian’s flat he admits that that was his elder brother – Hua Cheng – who’s been taking care of him in place of their parents. He also tells Xie Lian that the reason he ran away from home in the first place was them having a fight over San Lang’s “laziness” and lack of ambition.

It turns out that their parents were neglectful and abusive, so at the age of 16 Hua Cheng emancipated and moved out with his two younger brothers (the other one being E’ming) in tow, eventually getting custody over them. It was pretty hard for the three of them in the beginning, but in a few years Hua Cheng somehow managed to land a good job that allowed them to live comfortably (San Lang never asked what exactly he was doing because he lowkey suspected it was some shady business).

Despite his background, over the years San Lang came to rely on his brother’s steady income and enjoy a “rich kid” lifestyle, not giving much thought to his education and future career. Eventually Hua Cheng, who had had to work hard to provide this kind of life for him, blew up and accused him of being a selfish lazy asshole, so San Lang got mad at him and ran away.

In the end, San Land admits that was childish of him and, while Hua Cheng can be an overbearing asshole sometimes, ultimately he’s always been a good brother to him, so it was shitty of him to run away and make him worry. He texts Hua Cheng to pick him up and goes back home with him.

Xie Lian feels that he’s going to miss San Lang, whose company he’s come to enjoy over the past few days but agrees that that would be for the best.

However, when Xie Lian comes home the next day, he sees the familiar man with an eyepatch waiting near his apartment building. Hua Cheng approaches him and apologises for causing a scene the previous day, then offers to pay for the inconvenience of having to host his brother. Xie Lian refuses the money, saying it was no trouble at all, but invites Hua Cheng in.

Hua Cheng accept the invitation and the two of them have a little chat over tea. Hua Cheng complains about San Lang acting more and more rebellious lately and slacking off at school, making his grades suffer. He says he wants San Lang to get into a good college for better chances of getting a well-paying job afterwards because it’s not like he’ll be there forever to provide for him.

In a sudden bout of inspiration, Xie Lian offers to tutor San Lang on the subjects he struggles with at school. He may not be a teacher but he was a top student in both school and college, and since he and San Lang already have a good relationship, he believes he’ll have easier time getting him to listen and put in effort.

(The real reason is, he wants to keep spending time with San Lang, who he thinks is a smart and capable kid.)

(He also may or may not be intrigued by this Hua Cheng.)

Hua Cheng, although doubtful at first, ends up accepting his offer.

I still need to figure out where it would go from there, but in the end Xie Lian and Hua Cheng end up spending time together and falling in love in the typical Hualian fashion (obviously Hua Cheng ends up being a massive simp). San Lang and E’ming are torn between pushing the two of them together (because they want Xie Lian-gege to be part of their weird little family!!!) and fighting with Hua Cheng for Xie Lian’s attention and affection.

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

hello terrifying talented friend! i come bearing more ask game numbers than is reasonable so feel free to pick and choose!

2, 11, 13, 17, 35, 73, 81

💚💚💚

Thank you my friend!

2. talk about a notable time a narrative or character has looked you dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing.”

This was what happened with most of the back half of The Hedgehog’s Dilemma! I intended for Ted to have a fairly minor role, but I wrote his conversation with Jamie in chapter 3 and there was so much of his own baggage with his dad lurking under the surface that it promoted him to one of the main characters. James Tartt also unexpectedly invited himself to practice while I was writing the scene where Jamie picks him up from the train station in chapter 5, and the fallout of that ended up being most of the plot for the rest of the chapter. 

11. what’s something neat you’ve learned while doing research for something you were writing? also, how much do you worry about doing research in general?

I know so much about reality dating shows now, including a bunch of research into American shows that I probably didn’t need to do. Apparently after someone gets eliminated from The Bachelor, they have to ride around in the back of a limo with one of the producers until they could get a shot of them crying, even if it takes a very long time (which is maybe more sad than neat). 

How much research I do for my fics depends on how much research I have to do in my academic life — when my life was consumed by thesis research over the summer, I hardly did any, but now that I’m mostly onto the writing/editing portions, I do it more often.

13. talk about a writing experience that has pleasantly surprised you.

Writing fanfic! I think I’ve mentioned before that I started off writing original fic, and for some reason I was convinced that fanfic would be way more difficult. It isn’t, and furthermore is a lot of fun. 

17. what is your favorite line you’ve ever written?

Damn you, inability to remember any line I’ve written after I’ve written it! I’ll go with: 

They’d got stuck to each other, these past days, like those little birds that rode around on top of capybaras but if the capybara saved the bird from his shitty bird dad and promised to take him home to see his bird mum, and in return the bird was so blindingly handsome and good at football that the capybara was honoured to have him riding around on his back, actually, even if he pretended not to be ‘cause he was a grumpy old twat.  

from THD because I got a lot of nice comments about it, so now capybaras are permanently associated in my mind with people being nice to me on the internet, in addition to already being my favourite animal. I love those funky little guys. 

35. tell us about a character who’s very different than you who you love a whole lot

Rebecca! She’s a delightful schemer in season 1, very poised and put together on the outside but kind of earnest and sweet on the inside. I’m also occasionally a schemer, but we’re generally very different people and want very different things out of life — I don’t think anyone would describe me as poised or earnest, and I don’t want a life partner of any kind, and definitely not kids. 

73. how do you visualize scenes? do you see it like a movie in your head, or do the words just flow?

I can picture some scenes very clearly, but more often as static images rather than like a movie, so it’s a mix of trying to describe what I see in my head and just writing. 

81. if you could go back in time and give your younger self a piece of writing advice specific to you, what would it be?

You don’t have to write quickly! It’s okay if you don’t make your word count every day or takes days off or set lower goals. In fact it often works better — it’s easier to be deliberate in your writing when you aren’t pushing to write a chapter a week. 

[frogletscribe]

Until It Doesn’t Hurt

Chapter 5: Come Along

Summary:

20 years since the RDA was pushed off of the moon of Pandora, they are back once more. The RDA thinks their only problem is the traitor Jake Sully and his family, but as it turns out, Jake wasn’t the only ‘problem’ left behind 20 years ago. 

Anthe was a child soldier, stolen from their home and forced to learn the ways of the humans, erasing any of their connections to the Na’vi from before. Finally free from the RDA’s hold after being trapped in cryosleep, they're about to make themselves everyone's problem.

---

Sibling bonding with the Sullys.

_____________________________________________

Pairing: Aged Up!Neteyam X Nonbinary!Na'vi!Reader/OC (OC and Neteyam are both around 20)

Warnings: Mentions of Past Violence, Mentions of Past Trauma, Mild Claustrophobia, No Use of Y/N, Blood, Self-depreciation, Neglectful Parenting

WC: 2284 words. AO3 Link Here

A/N: It is October heat wave time for me right now and I am melting rn but maybe writing things will help ;^; Im also posting this slightly earlier than I thought i would, given that my brain only knows thesis and baldurs gate right now lol

Masterlist

Previous Next

_____________________________________________

The day Anthe learned that Tuk liked to bite people when she was mad, was the same day Neteyam had been forced to leave them with Lo’ak and Kiri, instead of accompanying Anthe around himself. In the time Anthe had stayed with the Sully’s, Neteyam had been given the chance to spend his time with them, to teach and share the ways of the Na’vi, instead of his typical duties; but enough time had passed now that the Olo’eyktan had asked his eldest son to return to business as usual. That left Anthe in the company of the middle two Sully children. 

Neteyam was not happy about it. Not that he didn’t like Anthe spending time with his siblings, quite the contrary, he loved hearing how well they all got on, it was that he didn’t like losing his time with them. While Anthe’s arm healed, he was only able to teach them about half of the things that they needed to know. But the process was slow, and often painful as their flesh slowly scarred over where the Palulukan had tagged them. So, until they healed, Neteyam could not take them hunting or patrolling with him, as much as he desperately wanted to.

Still, Neteyam could not deny his fathers orders, and so Anthe was left to be watched by Lo’ak and Kiri. Kiri was also very kind and attentive to them, often checking over Anthe’s wound in her grandmother's absence. She was also much more assertive than Anthe initially thought, and sarcastic. 

It had been Kiri’s idea to visit the science outpost, talking about visiting Spider, and Lo’ak had jumped at the chance to leave High Camp. With her older siblings leaving, Tuk insisted on going with them, dragging on Lo’ak arms as she begged her brother to let her tag along. Eventually, he relented, and the four of them were off, flying down towards the forest floor.

Anthe found themselves glad to be flying with Kiri on her large indigo Ikran, especially watching Lo’ak spin and dive, Tuk squealing in delight in his lap. Anthe’s stomach did flips as they watched him. Flying with Kiri was not as secure as flying with Neteyam, Anthe was bigger than the young woman and had to sit behind her on the sadle, but at least she seemed calm and in control. 

Anthe was wary of coming to a human outpost, though the siblings all reassure them that everyone there was very nice and no one would hurt them, they remained vigilant. Even injured, Anthe and Lo’ak were the closest to warriors and that left the safety of Kiri and Tuk to them.

“{Here we are}” Lo’ak announced, mostly for Anthe’s benefit, as the group entered a small clearing. They had gotten more used to speaking solely in Na’vi, though still occasionally slipped back into English when they couldn’t find the words they needed. 

Immediately, Anthe saw it, the strange amalgamation of metal and wooden structures that made up the outpost. Several smaller metal caravan-like buildings linked together, with more traditional Na’vi buildings positioned around the outside. They spotted the first of the humans quickly, their small frames popping in and out of sight between buildings or from behind trees, all of them bearing the exo-masks that allowed them to breathe the Pandoran air. There were also several Na’vi. Or at least what Anthe initially thought were Na’vi, but quickly realized must be Avatars, from their extra fingered hands and human clothing. None of them bared the newcomers any mind.

“{Come.}” Kiri said, smiling as they took Anthe’s hand. “{This way.}”

Kiri and Lo’ak led them into one of the metal buildings, handing out breathing masks as they delved further into the cold grey halls. Anthe was immediately uncomfortable, the low ceiling and narrow windowless pathways feeling suffocating as they followed. Eventually, the halls opened into a wider room, one where Anthe didn’t have to hunch over to move through anymore. The room was wide, filled with computer screens and other machines and equipment Anthe couldn’t even imagine the purpose of.

“{Hey bro!}” A human man grinned, running up to Lo’ak. He was practically naked save for a loincloth typical of Na’vi, painted blue stripes adorning his muscled body, blonde dreadlocks hanging around his face.

“{Spider!}” Lo’ak grinned back, meeting the man with some kind of complicated handshake. Lo’ak and Kiri both towered over him as they showered Spider in greetings and hugs. Even Tuk seemed to be gaining on him despite her young age. Anthe stood back, not wanting to interrupt. 

Anthe interacted with Spider the least, not because they didn’t want to, but because he simply wasn’t around as much. Anthe had only left High Camp a handful of times, mostly with Kiri, or Neteyam, and Spider was not often at High Camp himself. Anthe suspected that might be due to Neytiri’s influence. It was hard to miss the mother’s loathing for the young human.

They spotted another man, Norm, towards the back of the room. Anthe had met Norm briefly back at High Camp. He was human, though spent much of his time piloting his Avatar, the form he still took now. He was a scientist, and reminded Anthe very much of their Teacher. The lanky man waved from his seat shouting a greeting towards the larger group.

“{Hey kids! Here to check on Grace?}”

“{Yep!}” Kiri smiled, pulling Spider with her as they headed further into the room.

“{And to see Spider.}” Lo’ak laughed. 

“{Tuk?}” Anthe leaned over to the youngest Sully, speaking quietly. 

“{Hmm?}” Tuk hummed, ever bright and smiling.

“{Who is Grace?}”

“{Oh, that's Kiri’s mama.}” The young girl said matter of factly.

“{But I thought Neytiri was your mother?}” Anthe asked, confused.

“{She is! Just not Kiri’s. Well, she’s still Kiri’s mama.}”

“{Neytiri is not my biological mother. Grace is.}” Kiri cut in, smiling gently as she explained.

“{O-oh. I’m sorry, I just assumed.}” Anthe shrank, embarrassed.

“{It’s alright. My situation is, um, complicated.}” Kiri shrugged.“{This is her.}” 

Kiri led them over to a large liquid filled tube sitting towards the back of the room. 

“{Hi, Ma. This is my friend, Anthe.}”

Anthe looked closer, quickly seeing a woman's body floating idly inside the tube. She looked exactly like Kiri. Her features suggested she was an Avatar, but Anthe had never seen one suspended like this before. The body twitched and moved from within the tank, seeming as if she was just asleep. Anthe didn’t need to be told any more details, it was clear enough to them that Grace’s human body had likely died, leaving her Avatar an empty husk. Anthe themselves had never known their own mother, or rather, couldn’t remember her. They thought how bittersweet it must be for Kiri to have her mother right there, and simultaneously not at all.

“{You look just like her.}” Anthe said quietly to the younger woman. Kiri smiled at the comment, before turning her attention back to Spider and Lo’ak who had started messing around with the nearby computers.

“{Hey don’t mess with those!}”

—

Anthe sat quietly, watching as the group laughed and played together in the afternoon sun. Lo’ak had led them all to a small clearing, where he now stood wrestling with Tuk and Spider. Kiri laid in the grass nearby, seeming almost as if in a trance as she watched the plants and animals in the canopy above. Everything was so calm, so easy. It reminded Anthe of the past, spending time with their own siblings. The reminder of them had started to hurt less, becoming more a melancholy ache than the stab of a knife in their chest. Anthe thought often of their siblings, though they continued to refrain from speaking about them, but they thought the others would like the Sully’s, if they ever got the chance to meet them. Of course the calm was broken by a shrieking from where Lo’ak Spider and Tuk were playing. Anthe had only been half paying attention, but the second the sound hit their ears, they were upright and knife out looking for an attacker. But there was none. Or at least none that Anthe had expected. Tuk was wrapped around Lo’ak head, her teeth latched onto one pointed ear, fingers clawing at his braids, and tail lashing wildly behind her.

“{Tuk! Stop!}” Spider yelled, trying to pry the girl from her brother's shoulders. Tuk was just growling and hissing, refusing to let go.

“{Ack- Tuk I’m sorry! Let go!}” Lo’ak tried to push her off, falling backwards onto the ground with a thump. Anthe watched the struggle for a moment, trying to let their initial adrenaline ease before getting involved, and pocketing their knife. Kiri, had sat up in the grass, but didn’t move to get involved right away either. 

“{Tuk!}” The boys were still yelling as Anthe stepped forward. They tapped Spider’s shoulder, with their free hand, motioning for him to step back. Gently, they snaked their arm around Tuk’s waist, pulling her and Lo’ak upright. 

“{Lo’ak, stop struggling.}” They said,  just held the pair for a moment until Lo’ak did as he was told, but still whining the whole way. As Lo’ak stopped struggling, Tuk seemed to deflate, and finally let go. Lo’ak immediately jumped away, and Anthe pulled the girl from his shoulders. Tuk was still huffing, arms crossed and angry, as Anthe knelt down to her level.

“{What happened?}” They asked Tuk, trying to be calm and even. Anthe had seen plenty of fights between their siblings, petty or otherwise. When they were younger, Anthe had often been the one to defuse those situations afterwards, but it had been a long time since the last time they had handled something like this.

“{She bit me!}” Lo’ak shouted defensively, holding his wounded ear.

“{I’m asking Tuk.}” Anthe cut back at him with a stern look before turning back to the young girl. “{What happened?}”

“{They wouldn’t let me play with them!}” Tuk pouted. “{They kept pushing me away! You guys always leave me out of stuff!}”

“{Tuk, we were wrestling, we didn’t want you to get hurt.}” Spider said, trying to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged him off, pouting harder.

“{But I’m just as big as you are!}”

“{Tuk, even if youre just as big as Spider, that doesn’t mean you can’t still get hurt.}” Anthe smoothed a hand down the girl's back, trying to ease the tension from her shoulders. Unlike with Spider, Tuk did not shrug off the touch, just frowning sadly as the anger leaked out of her.

“{You’re still a lot younger than them. I know you just want to not be left out, but you should say something, not bite people when you’re mad.}” Anthe gave Lo’ak a pointed look. He seemed to catch their meaning and deflated himself, coming to stoop with them at Tuk’s level.

“{I’m sorry we leave you out of things Tuk, it’s like Anthe said, we just don't want you getting hurt. But please don’t bite me when you get mad, that really hurt.}”

“{I’m sorry I bit you…}” Tuk mumbled, lip wobbling, whatever fight that had been there finally going out of her. 

“{Maybe there is something else that we can all do?}” Spider suggested as Lo’ak scooped Tuk into a hug.

“{Yes, please.}” Tuk sniffed. Anthe stepped back, giving the siblings some space as the situation calmed itself.

“{You handled that really well. Usually there's a lot more shouting.}” Kiri smiled, coming to stand with them.

“{I just tried to keep things calm.}” They shrugged. “{What do you mean there's more shouting?}”

“{Well, usually, dad gets mad and yells at everyone and we all get in trouble. Neteyam is better, but he usually gets into arguments with Lo’ak too.}” Anthe frowned.

“{Wait, your father just yells at all of you? How does that help anything?}” Kiri just shrugged in response and Anthe’s frown deepened, watching as Spider and Lo’ak started to try and come up with a game they could play with Tuk.

They had seen a bit of Jake Sully’s parenting. He was strict, especially with his sons. Often treating them more similarly to how they remembered the Staff Sergeant who commanded their squad did than how they thought a father was supposed to act. He was better with Tuk and Kiri, more obviously loving, but strict all the same. What had been even more blatant to Anthe was simply how often Jake and Neytiri were not around at all. Anthe figured it was because of their high rank among the clan, but it still felt off to them. In truth, Neteyam was more a parent to his siblings than their actual parents were. He was the one who settled most arguments and made sure his siblings weren’t getting into trouble. Anthe shook their head, they had no place to judge. They had never had real parents to care for them, only the caretakers at TAP and their Teacher. 

Tenak and their other siblings had grown up as a tight knit group, bonded through shared trauma and intense military training. They had all learned the hard way that no one else would look out for them but each other, so arguments were best dealt with quickly and calmly. The melancholy feeling started to come back as Anthe watched the new game of competitive tree climbing before them. They stood back, content to watch rather than join in themselves. A part of them wanted to join, but a louder part of Anthe’s mind told them to be on guard for danger or predators. 

Protect these people where they could not protect their own family.

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

🖊

It was a coffee with vanilla and five sugars day. Sebastian took a sip from his mug as he went through the morning newspapers--or rather, the gossip columns. So far it seemed the first half of Riven's plan was working, there were more 'stories' on the Warrior of Light than the political infighting that had broken out following the Forum's vote to rejoin the Eorzean Alliance. Robbing Sevestre of any and all platforms--plus perhaps rubbing all his losses in his face--

This crazy idea just might actually work. Sebastian swallowed another mouthful of coffee, folding the newspapers. Thancred was currently working on a way for the group to access Sevestre's office and home, and the more he thought about it, the more he began to suspect that Y'shtola was correct, this whole situation had its origins with Astrid. There had been something far bigger than Riven-then-Kari's existence at the time. And as Astrid and Sevestre-no, the entire Biblotech faction. were her political opponents...

"Seb?" The velvety voice made Sebastian freeze. Fear exploded in his stomach, turning his muscles into water. He knew that voice, had been avoiding everything that dealt with it, godsdamnit he'd fucking finally had put everything to do with it behind him--

"Sebastian?" Forcing his eyes upward and to keep a emotionless expression on his face, Sebastian took in the arrival at his table. His former lover and the reason why he'd had to leave home, start all over from scratch--Lacelle Glycen, was standing in front of him. And oh gods, he looked as beautiful as ever, blond hair perfectly braided back into a queue, not a single strand out of place, gray eyes peering down at Sebastian with a faint hint of superiority, with nary a wrinkle on his lab jacket and pants. A crystal drop hung from one pointed ear, catching the morning sun. Light pink lips curved into a slight smile that looked innocent, but Sebastian could see the cruelty that lingered below the surface.

"It is you! You look so..." Those gray eyes took in Sebastian's armor--the black chest plate was battered a bit but clean, the red duster had some wrinkles, the beaten up gunbelt. His brown hair was no longer short, it had been frilled and parted into layers at the front and shaved short in the back--his hands were no longer smooth but rough and callused from the hilt of his gunblade.

"Different."

"Lacelle." Sebastian got out. Gods he prayed he didn't look as upset as he felt, and now he was extremely hyperware that many eyes in the Last Stand were now fixed upon his table. Lacelle smiled again-a polite thing that didn't fully reach his eyes.

"Mind if I take a seat?" He said, not waiting for Sebastian to respond. Smoothly he slid out the chair facing the gunbreaker and sat down.

No, no, no, why didn't I say anything?! Sebastian wanted to speak, wanted to scream, but old fear and anxiety had turned his tongue to lead. All the memories were coming back--that two-moon period of hell when everything had just all gone so wrong. He'd lost his thesis, his friends, his dignity, his life--and all because of Lacelle. His ex lover had plagiarized his work, claimed it as his own--and when Sebastian had fought back...

"I was so surprised when I read about you in the papers." With effort, Sebastian forced himself to focus on the elezen's words. "I didn't think you'd throw your lot in with the savages, let alone their so-called Warrior of Light--"

"Augustine, Mathye, Reinhardt, and Riven." Lacelle blinked at the sudden interruption.

"Excuse me?"

"Those 'savages' are my friends. They have names." Now Sebastian could feel anger warring with the fear and anxiety. How dare, how dare--did this asshole think he could just stroll right on up and sit down and have a normal conversation after what had happened all those years ago? After what he'd done?! Sebastian swallowed, choking back the rage that was building inside him.

"You will address my friends by their names or not speak of them at all." Gods his voice sounded so calm, so composed. Wasn't it shaking? Couldn't the other man hear the tears?

I gave you my heart and you threw it away like the day's trash-- Lacelle chuckled, shaking his head.

"Dear Sebastian. Always so quick to defend others." He leaned forward--a slender hand reaching out to rest atop Sebastian's free one. The hyur jerked--and made to pull it away--but Lacelle's fingers tightened around his wrist.

"I'm so happy I found you. I wanted to talk."

"I don't." Sebastian ground out. "Let go of me."

"Sebastian." Was it his imagination, or was Lacelle's grip even tighter now?

"Let me go." Sebastian repeated, pulling a little harder. He didn't want to cause a scene, oh gods if he caused a scene Lacelle would eat it right up, it was the past repeating itself all over again--

"I said I wanted to talk." Lacelle countered, ice starting to creep into that velvet voice as his eyes narrowed. Then suddenly a pair of silver and metallic-sky-blue gauntlet hands slammed onto the elezen's shoulders, and squeezed. Sebastian could only watch as Lacelle gasped in sudden pain--his skin starting to pale as a cold sweat broke out. His grip loosened, and Sebastian pulled his wrist free.

"Now I admit I'm not completely familiar with the laws around here..." Reinhardt's voice was low, practically purring.

"But I seem to remember that the word 'No' is universal. And when somebody invokes it...". The dragoon bent over, leaning to the side as he continued to grip Lacelle's shoulders, letting the elezen get a good view of his face.

"It's generally good manners to honor it." Sebastian watched as Reinhardt smiled--no longer the basic soldier grunt, but a predator, fangs flashing and dragonfire-blue eyes shimmering.

"Sebastian, who's this?" Augustine slid into the chair on Sebastian's left, his voice friendly but not friendly, frosted steel underlying his tone. Mathye followed, taking the chair on the hyur's right.

"Looks like a problem to me." The medic commented aloud. "I hope you didn't harm one of my more repeat patients, I tend to get violent if something happens when we're not fighting to keep people safe and other do-gooder activities."

"Seb?" From behind him, a pair of slender arms wrapped around Sebastian's shoulders and squeezed--offering both comfort and reassurance. Sebastian swallowed--now unable to speak by the sheer physical presence of love and support he was feeling. Riven tilted her head, taking in the scene with a innocent expression on her face.

"Ohh." She said, her voice syrupy sweet--and suddenly louder.

"You're Sebastian's asshole of an ex boyfriend! The one who stole his work, got him fired and gaslit him out of his home!"

"Riven!" Sebastian hissed. Forgot the warm fuzzy feelings, he now was sensing danger. Lacelle was now possibly a dead man.

"Weren't we supposed to have a discussion with him?" Augustine asked innocently.

"We were." Mathye agreed, his own smile suddenly now...toothy as his violet eyes gleamed. He rose from his chair.

"Ser Sauveterre. Let me assist you." He offered gallently as Reinhardt moved to grip Lacelle by his right arm.

"Why thank you, Ser Bishop." Reinhardt answered gleefully. Lacelle squeaked as Mathye grabbed his left arm, and the two men hauled the elezen bodily to his feet.

"Mathye! Reinhardt!"

"Relax, it'll just be a talk." Augustine pushed himself to his feet, rolling his shoulders. Riven gave Sebastian another squeeze-hug.

"Finish your coffee. We're just going to be right there." She said, pointing at the harbor dock. Garuda in her mini-form had appeared to sit on one of Riven's shoulders, cackling in malicious glee.

"Riven!" Sebastian hissed. Gods the situation was going downhill faster than he could blink--

"Relax, big bro."

[docluna]

Ch. 1: The Invitation

Luna Wenhouse disembarked the train into Saffron City with a sigh. Just half a year ago, she would’ve just thrown the weird letter away, gone back to her life, given no more thought to the address it contained or its offer of employment. That was before she’d had doors literally slammed in her face for her theories, following a bitter and prolonged thesis defense. She’d graduated, earned her title as a doctor of Pokemon genetics, and what she had to show for it were burned bridges and mounting debt. Three days after her last rejection, which had at least been polite enough to tell her she wasn’t required instead of something more stern, she received the letter.

“Dear Dr. Wenhouse,” it said, “My boss your thesis work to be fascinating. Such a radical theory on the similarities between Pokemon and Human DNA, and their implications, is ideal for a project he wishes to invest in. While we both understand that the bedfellows of science and business have sometimes left a sordid history, it is his belief that you are reasonable enough to see how you both may benefit from a partnership. He also believes that the nature of this project, however, is such that any further discussion should take place in person. I am inclined to agree.

Therefore, please accept this invitation to Saffron City, Kanto. The enclosed train ticket is good for two trips from the Goldenrod Interregional Terminal. Please also find information attached regarding a reservation in your name at the station hotel, and ten thousand dollars for travel expenses. Know that you are under no obligation to accept. Should you wish to ignore our offer, you are welcome to dispose of this letter, keep the money, and never give it a second thought. Even should you choose to appear, this is an interview offer, not a contract.

When you arrive, and are settled, please proceed to the address listed on the back of this letter. Knock at the door under the green light, and ask for Michael. I will show you to the boss’s office from there, and the two of you may discuss things in a more suitable environment.

Hoping to see you soon, Michael Rheo”

Luna’s hand clenched around the letter in her jacket pocket as though she could squeeze answers out of it. It was the kind of suspicious that got people disappeared, especially in a city as large as Saffron. She was no stranger to cities, having lived in a dorm room just outside Goldenrod and commuted in to the university there for the last several years of her life, but Saffron was busier and denser than her home. On top of that, the rumors persisted that the criminal groups which haunted both Kanto and Johto funneled much of their money through the city, and all it took to wind up on their bad side was to be in the wrong alleyway at the wrong time.

Still, she reasoned, she had no real choice at the moment. Even her professors had abandoned her, and the goodwill of her landlord and her parents could only carry her so far. She inhaled the crisp late-fall air, then breathed it out through her nose and slung her bag’s strap over her shoulder. With the stinging chill in her sinuses to distract her from her thoughts, she started for the hotel doors on the other side of the station.

It took only thirty minutes for her to get checked in, leave her bag in the room, and return to the street. The hotel was clean, the room a decent queen-size suite. She didn’t register the color of the carpet, or the view from the window. It didn’t matter. What mattered lay deep in the heart of the city, and as she gave her taxi driver the address and settled in for the ride, her mind returned to its racing. The number of people outside of the scientific community who would’ve even heard of her thesis work, much less would’ve read and understood it, was laughably small. A businessman, at that. The intersection of human and Pokemon genetics, to her, had vanishingly few applications in the business world. Still, she could imagine this being some kind of medical opportunity that was being kept quiet. She knew better than anyone that people had strong opinions about things that blurred the line between human and Pokemon. Hopefully he wasn’t one of those people who wanted Skitty ears and a tail on demand. She couldn’t take the idea of explaining to one more of them why her research had nothing to do with that right now, not that she judged. Maybe he- Luna found herself snapping back to the moment for the second time that day when the cabbie rapped his knuckles on the divider between them. She brushed her card against the reader, keying in a generous enough tip to make sure he wouldn’t turn into a headache, then clambered out and took stock of the area. The hair on the back of her neck raised with the realization that this was, in fact, a dingy alleyway that started between a smaller Silph Co. sub-office and an old, red-brick library. The library wall had graffiti on it, gang tags of some kind she didn’t know or care enough to recognize, and the office building’s stark walling had been recently painted over. She wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing that no windows on either faced into the alleyway, though they at least had light fixtures for later in the day.

Past the office’s walls, she could see the dim green light she’d been promised over a plain metal door with no handle. Two Meowth poked at a half-eaten pizza just beyond it, and on the trash can behind the office building a Zigzagoon watched her warily. A nervous glance around the corner revealed that her destination was built into the back of a clothing store, whose admittedly cheery and colorful sign featured a Persian in a tuxedo posing proudly.

Her train of thought sputtered and derailed. There was no conceivable reason that any of this should have her meeting someone at a clothing store. None. She stood on the corner staring at that sign for two whole minutes, struggling to predict what kind of businessman would be involved in clothing and have any interest whatsoever in human-Pokemon genetics.

Nothing. No ideas whatsoever.

Get it together, Luna, she thought to herself. To emphasize the point, she drew in another breath of that cold air. She could do this. This was surely just someone who had misunderstood her work, or some kind of eccentric billionaire, or something. There was no reason to be so nervous. Before she had a chance to start overthinking things again, she walked straight past the pedestrian traffic and down the alleyway. The Zigzagoon fled, and in its panic startled the two Meowth into running as well.

She lifted her hand, and knocked sharply, twice. For a precious minute, she wondered if nobody was going to answer- if this was some kind of prank, played by someone with more money than sense. She had thought the investment ruled that out, but in that minute, she felt awfully self-aware standing in the alley with her hand raised to the metal.

Then it opened with a quiet hiss, some hidden hydraulic activating. There was a man standing in the doorway, backed by cool lighting and a stark, unpainted room. He was a wide six feet, with shoulders that crowded the doorframe and a build that suggested he’d been some kind of athlete in a past life. His head was topped in silver hair, combed neatly and kept cut short, and his brow furrowed over his piercing blue eyes. He looked Luna up and down before he spoke, crossing his arms.

“Yes? May I help you?” He asked, finally. To her surprise, the man was soft-spoken, with an implacable accent and a demeanor that put her in mind of a butler from a movie scene. It was odd enough, here in this alleyway, that she had to remind herself not to stare.

“Ah, uh-” She managed, before swallowing the nerves. She’d come this far. No backing down now, not without finding out what in the world was going on. “I’m Doctor Luna Wenhouse. I was told to ask for Michael? About the job?”

“Ah, good.” The man replied. His expression softened, and he stepped aside to wave her past. “I am Michael. It’s good to see you made it to our door without incident, or, indeed, at all.”

The doctor braced herself, then stepped across the threshold into the sterile-looking room. There was a desk and a fairly normal office chair, a computer terminal that looked like it had been brought straight out of twenty years ago, and another featureless metal door across from the one she’d just passed through. She turned back to face him as he closed the door, managing an awkward smile.

“It’s certainly a more unique recruiting method and location than I’m used to.” She said, and her tension eased when he smiled back.

“All too aware.” He said, before warmly chuckling and shaking his head. “I told the boss that if you showed, it would be a miracle. Nevertheless, he was convinced you’d be here, and he was right, as he often is. May I take your coat?” “Oh, uh, thanks.” Luna said, shrugging the coat off and offering it to him. He folded it neatly (certainly neater than she ever had) and placed it atop the desk, then leaned across it and tapped a sequence of keys at the computer with practiced speed.

“There we are.” Michael smiled, standing back up. “Once the boss is ready for you, the door will open and we will proceed. I admit, he was quite excited to have found you. Marching around his office reading me the intro to your thesis like it was part of a famous oration. Ah- don’t tell him I mentioned that.”

“I’ll keep it between us.” Luna said, and tried to match his smile. She fidgeted with her hands for a moment before opting to stuff them into her pockets, her smile faltering. “I, ah. I gotta say, Michael, I don’t really know what to expect here.”

“As much as I would like to prepare you, I’m under strict orders not to tell you anything yet.” He said, and his expression turned sympathetic. “Believe me, I do understand your apprehension. All I am at liberty to say is that I truly believe in the endeavor we wish to recruit you for, and I hope you keep an open mind.”

She stewed over this in her head, looking past him at the blank wall. It was hard to imagine what could possibly demand such secrecy. Part of her held that this sort of thing only happened in the movies. Yet here she was, in what may as well have been an interrogation cell, with a stranger whose apparent warmth had completely disarmed her. She was trying to think of what to say when the door gave a soft ding, then slid open to reveal an almost comically nondescript elevator car. “Ah, excellent.” Michael said, gesturing for her to enter. “Giovanni will see you now.”