#which encourages good study behavior

[thebestpartofwakingup]

Coloring instructions are for teaching/training fine motor skills in little kids before they’re old enough to begin writing. The easier it is for a kid to hold a crayon or marker (thicker than a pencil and easier to hold) a certain way and control their strokes the easier it is for kids to hold a pencil and write both without wrist/grip strain and with enough precision for the writing to be clearly read later

You want to build up that strength as much as you can before the child is writing in class because the easier it is for the child to physically write the more inclined they will be to take notes, which makes them more inclined to pay attention.

When kids are given instructions to color a certain way it gives teachers an easier time in watching how that process is developing among the students. Such as which children are learning or developing the strength to hold a crayon like a pencil and which aren’t. If they aren’t encouraged to do so they probably won’t if it’s not the easiest or most comfortable method, but that’s how it goes for building any strength. Telling the kids that their coloring will “look better” is just incentive to follow those instructions, maybe it’s less comfortable to hold the crayon like they will eventually hold a pen or pencil BUT the teacher said it’ll look better if they do and they want to have their teacher’s and peer’s approval.

Let the kids color however they want and some kids might naturally build the strength for holding a pencil and writing and some might not, meaning once they’re being taught how to write their individual strengths and inclinations are going to vary greatly, so either the class takes greater time to get the lower performing kids caught up, and risk losing the attention and boring the higher performing kids (who may also learn to resent the teacher or class or other students for ‘holding them back’) OR the class tries to incentivize the lower performing kids to get better on their own by keeping pace with the higher performing kids — risking frustration and resentment for the class among the lower performing kids who can’t catch up without additional aid. You can also provide additional aid through the school directly to those kids, and many do, but an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of treatment. Not to mention additional class room time for individual students at such a young age would mean having to cut into their time for other classes, which itself can be detrimental, or make them feel ostracized for their ‘special treatment’

In other news it’s not gaslighting your pets to mix their medication in with their treats

Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.

On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.

The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for sabotaging my boyfriend's hookup with his girlfriend by filling his sex playlist with DJ Crazytimes

I (28NB, they/he) have known my boyfriend (call him C, 29M, he/him) for some 15ish years now. As long as I've known him, he has been on and off again with his girlfriend (call him T, 29NB, he/him). Respectfully, and with love, C and T are two of the worst and most annoying people I know. I want to marry them both specifically so that I can study them under a microscope like a parasitic virus.

Technically they're monogamous, but they're both hooking up with other people (myself included), usually the same people, because they have the same taste in lovers (bad). I have suggested that they give actual polyamory a try, and they reject the idea wholeheartedly. I think they get off on their dynamic, and far be it from me to try more than the bare minimum to dissuade them from it.

A couple months back, they got into a fight and broke up (again) because T (who was unemployed at the time) stole $50 from C (who works at GameStop) so that he could pay for a tank of gas (using C's car) to go hook up with another guy a couple states over. C was not upset that T was hooking up with another guy (because he was Also hooking up with that guy and knew he would not have a leg to stand on), but because of the stolen money + car.

C and I currently live together, because you can't afford an apartment on a GameStop salary, and also, like I said, he's my boyfriend. I'm making carnitas tacos next Friday, and T is coming over, because despite everything, he has nothing else to do on a Friday night. I know that C and T are going to get into a huge fight, and I know that it's probably either going to end with them getting back together out of spite or with someone's vehicle getting keyed--I'm betting on both.

Here's where I think I might be the asshole. I would really like to get inbetween them. Not in a "I don't want you to date each other" kind of way, but in a "holy shit you are both so insufferable i would like to get in on that" kind of way. I currently have my thing with C, and I've hooked up with T once in the past, but I would really like to make it official with him as well.

My plan is as follows: C and T are going to be in the same space again next Friday. They're going to fight, then hook up, then get back together again. C is one of those cybersexual "i built my own computer and run it on Linux" people, which is to say, he thinks tiktok and youtube are evil, and he he thinks spotify premium is supporting megacorporations. So, his sex playlist for T (we do not have our own sex playlist) is just an actual folder of mp3 files.

While C is at work, I'm going to log into his computer and change several of those mp3 files to DJ Crazytimes' Planet of the Bass, which I play often, and he is frequently annoyed by. My hope is that he'll realize it was me, he'll come and yell at me for ruining their hookup, T will take my side to piss him off, and the tension will get to the point where they let me join their hookup, and I can ask to date both of them after that.

To be clear, I recognize that I'm also Incredibly Toxic for enabling and encouraging this behavior. That said, I feel like I'm justified in this scenario considering C and T are both Also toxic, and furthermore, it is a known fact that I'm dating C right now, so for them to hook up, C would technically be cheating on me. I asked C's sister (a childhood friend of mine) for her take on whether it would be funny or just annoying, and she just told me that we all deserve each other, so I think I should be good. Am I being uniquely shitty here?

What are these acronyms?

[creature-wizard]

Continuing on the topic of connection being not a feeling, but a rather a set of circumstances in which you are engaging and participating, I think a lot of people out there just don't realize how dangerous the way many of us have been taught to think of feelings in relation to spirituality really is.

Like Zan pointed out, Evangelical Christians are taught that positive emotions are actually the Lord moving through them, rather than their own personal reactions to their experiences. Meanwhile, Evangelical church services are deliberately engineered to elicit these kinds of of feelings in people. It's pure emotional manipulation.

Similar ideas are found in New Age spirituality, where "spiritual discernment" is frequently boiled down to "does it make me feel good or not?" People are taught to evaluate politically charged information based on whether it, for lack of a better term, sparks joy. Now, determining whether or not something sparks joy is a wonderful way to decide whether you want to keep your old tea kettle, but here we're talking about information that people will base crucial personal and political choices on.

Meanwhile, New Age influencers do everything they can to make sure they're sparking joy for you. Let's take Paul White Gold Eagle, for example. His videos are constantly talking about things that sound exciting, like messages from archangels, dragons of light, and emerald transmissions. This type of baiting - joybaiting, I'll call it - is meant to hook you emotionally and make you think that this has to be true because it elicits that oooough, shiny reaction. Next thing you know, you've been joybaited into falling down the conspirituality pipeline and you believe some version of QAnon's conspiracy theories.

This kind of thinking is even dangerous in pagan circles. You find yourself thinking about a thing and noticing a lot? You feel an intense pull to study it? You'll find people out there telling you that you have a spiritual connection to it, like, maybe you were part of it in a past life. And maybe you go and get a past life reading, or even undergo hypnosis. And now you, the whitest gal in the surburb with zero familial connections to any Native people, feel entitled to appropriate some form of Native spirituality because you felt fascination with it, or what you thought it was, and now you're contributing to white sage decimation and spreading around some sort of Native-flavored form of neopaganism as if it's actual Native spirituality.

Or maybe you fall in with a neopagan cult leader who uses your fascination to convince you that you knew each other in a past life, and you were led to them in this life so you could continue some important work in this life, and they pull you completely into their bullshit.

Finally, it's dangerous because it encourages stalkers. A lot of stalkers are people with incredibly powerful fixations on others. These types of beliefs get them convinced that their victims are actually their soulmates or twin flames or whathaveyou, and make them feel justified in engaging in stalking behavior.

All of this is why it's important to recognize that connection is a circumstance, not a feeling. Your feelings are utterly irrelevant to whether you are actually connected. What most people take for "feeling connected" is literally just fascination or fixation, maybe reinforced by the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon. Real connection is something you cultivate and build, and it does not exist outside of your actual, physical engagement and participation.

[murdrdocs]

tutor!coryo who is hired by your parents to get your grades up. you attend the academy, yet your behavior is as if you don't. with you spending time doing anything other than studying for exams, or paying attention in class, coriolanus has never thought much about you. other than when he felt like you were bringing shame to the academy's name. but your parents are offering good money and he would be a fool to say no.

tutor!coryo who thinks he's above it all, who thinks he's better than you. he's only a year older than you, but he believes he's more mature. he doesn't have as much money as your family, but he believes he has more class than you do and surely that's worth more than money. he assumes he hides it well, but when he explains concepts, it's condescending. he rolls his eyes if you don't understand something. he grits his teeth if he has to repeat himself. he thinks someone your age, with your money and status, should at least try, and if you start to argue the opposite, he has to hold himself back from snapping at you.

tutor!coryo who refuses to be attracted to you. your apperance is nearly perfect, clearly what you spend most of your time on, but your lack of effort in academics makes him absolutely refuse to even consider seeing you in that light. but, he can't help but think about you late at night, how your house clothes hug your body in ways the academy uniform can't. how you smell, and the smooth sound of your voice as you ask questions.

tutor!coryo who masturbates to the thought of you. suddenly, within his time of tutoring you, he's jacking off way more than he has since puberty. he's conjuring up memories of the way your button up was a little see through one day, and he caught sight of your red bra. he remembering the way your ass filled out the lounge pants you wore around him during your last session. he's thinking hard to rehear the sound of the groans you let out when you're frustrated, and repurposing them to attach the sounds to images of you taking his cock.

tutor!coryo who suddenly starts treating you a little nicer during sessions. just small things; little encouragements whenever you get something right, exercising more patience with you while you think about what he had just said, laughing at your jokes instead of telling you to stay on track. at first, he doesn't know why he's doing it, but then he rationalizes that it's because he wants to get his dick wet. that's all.

tutor!coryo who's treated hospitably in your home. your mother keeps him fed by putting in requests to the cooks, your father cracks bad jokes that actually make him comfortable, and you, eventually, keep his dick wet. sliding under your desk and using your mouth on him when your parents are home and in separate rooms. palming his dick with your red painted nails while you're both supposed to be reading something. sweetly asking him to stay a little while longer for dinner, which won't be ready for another hour and your work is already done. and when he asks what you can do to pass the time, you smile and lead him to your bed, throwing your shirt off on the way.

[totheblood]

shiver | s.r.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: spencer would do anything for you, but doesn't understand why you have pulled away from him.

warnings: angst, avoidant!reader

a/n: gonna be so honest i wanted this to be a series but i ended up hating it like 2k words in so that's why the end is so good... if people like it i will do a part two but oh my god its so bad and rushed towards the end... but this one is for my avoidantly attached girlies!! i see u and i love u and i am also sorry.. reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses.. PLEASE SEND SPENCER REQUESTSS!!!

wc: 3.1k

"So I look in your direction But you pay me no attention, do you?."

The hum of the air condition rang through the bullpen as Spencer studied you from his desk. With your hand in your hair, absentmindedly reading files with your body slumped forward, you looked unbelievably and unmistakably tired.

 It was another late night doing paperwork from last week's case, and nearly everyone was running on caffeine and pure luck. Spencer had finished his work an hour, thirty four minutes, and eight seconds ago but he still found himself glued to his chair and taking on JJ’s leftover work. All so he could silently watch over you from his desk. 

He didn't quite understand his fascination with you. It was almost embarrassing how he hung onto your every word you said, willing to do any and everything you wanted him to. But it was more embarrassing that you never paid him that same attention. Well, that wasn't completely true when he first met you, but as the months went on he could feel your attention from him drifting. 

When you first started at the BAU last year you were shy and timid, but Spencer noticed the small chuckles that escaped from your lips at his complex jokes and how your eyes watched him as he spewed some random fact that the rest of the team groaned at. You used to hang onto every word he said, asking him follow up questions with your pupils dilated. 

It was natural how you gravitated towards him. He was the only one on the team remotely close to your age, and like you, he was a bonafide genius. But you always wanted to know more and he always wanted to tell you more. It was innocent and pure, the way he thought about you, until you started to pull away. 

Spencer knew the chemical reaction that occurs in the brain when someone who used to give you attention pulls away. It creates a pattern similar to drug addiction, something he was all too familiar with, and it had started to get all too familiar for him to know how to properly deal with it. It had reached the point where he was counting each glance you gave him, the small way the corners of your mouth quirked up when you spoke to him, and even to the point where he was keeping track of how many words you uttered to him daily. 

He tracked it too. Your conversations with him had been on a steep decline since February, and now in late May he found himself wondering what he had done wrong. He had known the path he was leading himself down was one he shouldn't continue, but he couldn't care. His brain was operating for him, and he was succumbing to his worst fears. 

His brain made any attempts to rationalize your behavior, none of which calmed his anxiety. Maybe he was too clingy, always opting to sit next to you on the jet, or partner up with you in the field. Maybe he had said the wrong thing, something that made you immediately sick of him. Maybe you started seeing someone. The last one bothered Spencer the most, but he couldn't understand why. 

Spencer did everything he could to convince himself he didn't have a crush on you. As juvenile as it sounds was as juvenile as he felt every time his cheeks tinged pink when you spoke to him. He tried to convince himself that he didn't actually ‘like’ you, he just was preoccupied with you. It was your behavior that triggered his attachment style, it wasn't that he liked you. 

And as much as he wanted it to be true, he knew it wasn't. He was infatuated the moment he met you. Spencer knew he could never forget anything, but he knew for sure he would never forget your face. He traced in his mind over and over again, the way your whole face lit up when you ate something sugary, how your eyes blinked up at him when you spoke, and how you would drag your teeth in between your lips whenever you were focused. He'd find himself finding any excuse to be close to you. 

Spencer had once made a vow to himself that he would never pretend to be stupid. Not for anyone, and especially not for a girl. Which is why he almost physically smacked himself when he pretended to not have read a book by Jane Austen just so he could have something to talk to you about. He had read her entire collection when he was eight, yet he still found himself agreeing to read it and tell you how he liked it. He never forgot a word of the book “Emma,” but he still found himself rereading it for you. That was how much power you had over him. A power you seemed to be unaware of. 

6 months ago - November

“So, did you read it?” you questioned, arm pressing into the hardword of his desk, eyes wide and waiting. He didn't notice you at first, which was a first for him, making him jump as he turned to face you. 

“I did,” he answered, lips in a tight smile as he set his pen down, “I still have no idea why everyone seems to love Mr. Knightley. He strikes me as being a bully. I liked Frank Churchill far more.”

“Please,” you scoff rolling your eyes, “Churchill, seriously? All he had were his good looks. He was a total ass!” Your use of ‘ass’ earned a genuine smile from Spencer, whos eyes lit up as he spoke. 

“He wasn’t the most sincere,” he starts, shaking his head, “but he still had a far better personality than Knightley. I’d sooner date Frank Churchill over Mr Knightley. At least Frank had a sense of humor.”

“That's true, I guess,” you agreed looking down at his pristine desk. All he had on it were closed case files and a framed photograph of him and the team on it. You weren't in it but you studied it quickly, noticing how Spencer stared a brunette in the picture. Whoever it was, he was looking at her like she held the world in her hands. You would be lying if you said it didn't sting. As if he could sense you deflate he sat up straighter, following your vision to the picture on his desk. 

“We have to take a new one-” he rushed out quickly, causing your eyes to snap back to him, “You know, one with you… in it,” He pursed his lips nodding as he spoke again, almost as if he couldn’t stop himself, “You know cause now you're part of the team and this picture is old anyways. From when I first started here and as you can tell, I look completely different and it's time I updated it.”

“Who’s she?” you asked, finger pointing directly to Elle’s face. As you spoke you watched for any clues that would give you insight on how he felt about her. 

“Oh, Elle,” the way he said it made him sound defeated, like he forgot that she was in the picture, even though you knew that wasn't the case, “she used to work here, but, uh, she left.”

“You guys were close?” you questioned him, eyebrows raised as you watched him glance over at the picture before leaning back in his chair and putting all his focus on you. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, “we were, but…” his voice trailed off, as looked down at his feet, “we're not in contact anymore. She hasn't really spoken to any of us since she left,” 

“Oh,” you sighed out. You wanted to be upset that it was obvious he was enamored with her, but you just felt bad. The way his whole demeanor changed as he spoke made you feel more upset than anything, “I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay,” his eyes darted back up to you as his tight-lipped smile reappeared. He glanced back at his desk, before turning his body away from you, “I, uh, have some work I should get back to, though,”

“Yeah,” you smiled, standing up straight as you prepared yourself to turn around. You wanted to say something, anything, but you didn't. You just turned around and went back to your desk, something stinging brewing in your chest. 

Present Day

Spencer thought back to that day, wondering if his change in disposition is what made you change. It rang through his head as he tapped his foot, eyes trained on you. He was lost in thought when your eyes snapped up towards him, making him flinch. You offered him a small smile but it hadn't reached your eyes before looking back down at your work. 

The interaction made him decide that it was time to go home. That him sitting and staring was doing nothing for him or you. Standing up, he slung his messenger bag across his body, goodbyes prepared on the tip of his tongue. As he was about to speak Hotch exited his office, eyes meeting sympathetically with Spencer’s as he entered the bullpen. 

“We have a case,” Hotch announced, “I need everyone in the conference room in ten.” 

As the team flooded into the conference room, Spencer hung back, watching as you collected your things and trailed behind the rest of the team with a stack of files in your arms. 

“Need help with th-” Spencer began, arms outstretched towards you.

“No,” you replied abruptly, “I’m fine.”

It came out colder than you would have liked, causing Spencer to shiver, purse his lips and head into the conference room with his head hung low. 

“Our first victim was 35-year-old Leonardo Ruiz,” Garcia started, remote in hand clicking to display the picture of the mutilated man with his hands bound by rope and publicly displayed hanging from trees. Almost instinctively you flinch. You know it's the job but it never gets easy seeing the images. The man's face was distorted, slashed repeatedly with a knife until he became unrecognizable.

“He was reported missing after failing to report to his shift,” another click of the camera to show the abandoned patrol car, with the door open, it was obvious there had been a struggle, “His patrol car was found 2 miles from where his body was found in Arlington, where there appeared to be a struggle. Ruiz was missing for approximately two days before his body was discovered.”

“There was no dash cam footage from the patrol car?” Rossi asks from his chair, leaning forward as Garcia clicks the remote again.

“Exactly what I thought, but here's the creepy bit: There is no sign of another person on the dashcam footage. He doesn't even mention seeing another person, you can't hear the struggle, in fact there is no audio on the footage at all. Because three days before Ruiz went missing, his dashcam footage lost all audio. He reported it to the department and they were going to look into it but they were unable to fix it before Ruiz was taken,” Garcia answers, sending a chill down your spine. 

“So this was premeditated,” you speak up, causing everyone to look at you, including Spencer. You were still finding your footing in the group, trying to be useful to the group without saying the wrong thing, “The unsub is patient, willingly waiting for a perfect moment to strike. Could be revenge,”

“You're on the right track, pumpkin,” Garcia starts clicking another picture onto the screen, “That leads us to our next victim, Detective Luther Hodges from a different precinct was abducted from his home, reported missing for two days before he was found in the same way as our last victim in a public park,” Garcia herself winces as she looks at the pictures of the body strung up to a children's playground, “However this time our unsub left a witness, Hodge’s seven year old daughter, Lucy,” 

“If he left her as a witness, it could mean that he used her as a way to get him to leave willingly,” Spencer started, eyes squinting as he viewed the screen, “or he’s simply… devolving,”

“You’re absolutely right, boy genius,” Garcia starts, clicking the remote again to reveal a final body, causing the group to gasp. On the screen was Federal Agent Angela Barnett in the same position as the others. “One of our own, Angela Barnett was taken from a grocery store she frequented, and only kept one day before she was found in this state.”

“He’s devolving and rapidly,” Hotch says, closing his file and standing up, “Garcia contact MPD and let them know we're coming,” he commands, causing Garcia to nod a quick “yes, sir,” before rushing out the office, “I want to be out of here in ten,” he instructs the group, resulting in nods as everyone stands and begins collecting their things. 

“Hey,” Spencer calls from beside you gently, his voice close to being a whisper, “do you want to ride with me? I just got this new audiobook on the evolving traditions of the Amish and Mennonites on the East Coast,” he offers you a small smile that you can't help but mirror. 

“Oh, uh,” you look down, you know you’ve been pulling away but you can't help it, “Yeah, that sounds… interesting,”

Spencer can't help the grin that spreads across his face as he nods gently, cheeks tinged pink as he picks up his bag from the floor, “Great, I’ll see you then.”

The car ride was awkward to say the least, Spencer glancing over at you every five seconds as you started out the window, watching the passing trees. You drowned out the audiobook, too focused on wanting the car ride to be over that you didn't notice when Spencer had cut it off. 

“Is everything okay?” He spoke up, fingers tapping at the steering wheel as he kept his vision focused on the road. 

“Yeah,” you sat up, looking over at him and scratching the back of your neck, “I’m fine,”

“Are you sure?” he asked again, “You’ve just been… different with me. If I did anything, I’m sor-”

“You didn't do anything,” you cut him off, “I didn't realize I had been acting different,” you lied quickly, earning a scoff from him, “What?”

“The amount of conversations we have daily has been on the decline since February, decreasing by 4 percent daily in the last two weeks,” Spencer let slip casually, his own tone colder than intended, “Hard thing to not realize, especially for someone like you,”

“Someone like me?” You questioned, arms crossing defensively across your chest. 

“Someone smart,” Spencer looked over at you, “And I’m not stupid either, by the way. I would appreciate it if you just told me you didn't want to be friends outside of work instead of avoiding me like I’m the plague.”

You were silent for a beat, looking down at your hands, fingers intertwined with each other. You never understood why you got this way, why romantic feelings caused you to turn in on yourself. All you wanted to do was run, jump out of the car, scream, so you did the next best thing, “I’d prefer if we kept our relationship strictly professional,” your voice came out quieter than you would have liked. 

Spencer felt his stomach drop as his breath caught in his throat. He ignored the stinging in his eyes as he cleared his throat, swallowing harshly before replying, “Okay.”

The rest of the ride was uneventful, Spencer turned back on the audiobook and you allowed the blood to rush to your ears, drowning out the rest of the noise. The night was much busier than anticipated, all law enforcement officers on edge with the rise of a serial killer that put targets on their back. 

You spent a majority of the case avoiding Spencer, opting to partner with Derek on interviewing witnesses while JJ and Spencer built a geographical profile. When it was time to deliver the profile, you stayed back, only offering minimal input. 

Then, you found him: Jacob Raines. Jacob Raines had been a former police officer who was let go due to his use of excessive force and brutality. His rage and anger in turn got geared towards law enforcement, blaming them for his pitfalls. 

Garcia found an abandoned warehouse registered in his name in the outskirts of the city, where he was most likely keeping his victims before murdering him. The team dispatched to the warehouse, with you, Spencer and Morgan, entering first. 

You wouldn't have entered without backup if it wasn't for the sounds of screams coming from inside, and Spencer rushing in first. As if on instinct you followed after him, gun raised as you cleared behind him towards the screams. In the middle of the warehouse was a police officer still in uniform, tied to a chair with a tear stained face. She was crying as she plead for Spencer to untie her. As he worked to undo the knots you heard footsteps, causing you and Spencer to stand up abruptly. In front of Spencer was a 6 foot man, weapon raised and aimed right at him with his finger on the trigger. Based on the profile, you knew he would shoot and you knew he wouldn't think twice. He planned this, he knew the BAU would come for him and he wanted to take out as many people as he could. 

As if on instinct you pushed Spencer out of the way, a bullet aimed for his kelvar vest had made impact with your shoulder, piercing through it as you hit the cold concrete. Spencer was stunned but got up in enough time to take three shots at the unsub who had his weapon aimed and ready to shoot again. The unsub fell with a loud thud, but Spencer turned back to lean down next to your body that was growing increasingly colder. A puddle of blood had began to form underneath you and while it was clear it didn't hit any major organs, you were still bleeding out rapidly. 

Through the ringing in your ears you could here Spencer’s pained and rush voice signal over the radio, “Officer down, need medical, gunshot wound to the shoulder.”

His voice and hands were shaking as he applied pressure to the wound with his palm, as he urged you, “keep your eyes open,” he pleaded with you, “just stay awake until they get here,” he begged. But you were so tired, and your eyes were getting heavier, so you let them close. 

And everything went black. 

[the-littlest-goblin]

Something that's stuck with me from the Arch Heart's appearance, which highlights a major underpinning of my frustration with C3, is the "Big Doors don't work" comment.

In what way exactly is the Big Door not working?

The purpose of the Divine Gate was to mitigate the gods exerting undo influence on mortal affairs, and according to everything we've seen in all 3 campaigns up to this point, this was a demonstrable success: the Calamity ended, and despite multiple potentially world-ending catastrophes cropping up since then, it has been up to mortals to deal with these threats. They've often done so with divine aid, but I fail to see how that's overreaching on the gods' part when accepting said aid is still dependent on mortal choice.*

Part of the Arch Heart's reasoning for wanting to "let go" is, as I understand it, because mortals continue to rebel against and resent the gods even from behind the Divine Gate. Which, yes they do, but like... the customer is not always right. Not every complaint needs to be catered to, especially the ones based on faulty postulates.

I get that this is not how the Arch Heart is thinking about it; my issue is not with the roleplay of individual characters, but with the narrative whole and the sheer amount of time it has spent, both in the text and extra-textual framing, sincerely entertaining the base axioms of an argument that is so poorly constructed Ludinus wouldn't make it past round one of a middle school debate club. None of the anti-god arguments have given any tangible evidence for the claim that the gods are an oppressive force or that Exandria would be better off without them that is not either:

A. Aeor, which was pre-Divine Gate and in fact the catalyst for the gods to pull back on interfering with mortal affairs, and therefore not all that pertinent to the current status quo;

or B. an event or action that, while it may be done in the name of the gods (e.g. Hearthdell) or directly encouraged by a god (e.g. Opal and the Crown) is nonetheless still contingent on mortals making choices, and therefore not a convincing argument that the gods are infringing on free will,** nor that removing them would prevent these types of situations.

An ongoing motif of C3 has been showing perspectives which challenge the prevailing narrative about the gods as established within Exandria's lore to this point. As a story enjoyer, I normally would eat up this sort of reversal—I love a metatextual play with in-universe narratives. But to do so convincingly requires more substance than a handful of characters going 'Trust me bro.' I'm going to need to see some peer-reviewed studies on Exandrian metaphysics before I take Ludinus "17 ulterior motives stacked in a wizard robe" Da'leth's word over what I've seen with my own brain over thousands of hours worth of game play.

If the message of the narrative is telling me to question the diegetic information it presents, then I am going to do just that. So far every argument that the gods do more harm than good for Exandria has been rampant citationless behavior. I find it baffling and borderline infuriating that we're approaching the denouement of this campaign and I still have yet to see evidence that the core conflict of the story, the central debate which has plagued every in-game and fandom discussion for a year now, is based on an actual problem. Like, at all.

*If you think Vax did not exercise his own agency and free will in every step of becoming Champion of the Matron, you are simply wrong.

**For real, we know there are magical means of straight-up mind control in Exandria. Like, you don't have to approve of it, but the gods engaging in standard issue verbal manipulation does not constitute a violation of free will, and it certainly doesn't make the argument that they are so immeasurably more powerful than mortals that they should not be allowed to exist.

[dangerous-yam-fries]

Catboys x GN!Reader - NSFW

Asks and Suggestions are open and encouraged!

Warnings: sexual content, animal-human hybrids (Dangerously furry but not quite there yet.), MINORS LEAVE OR FACE MY WRATH.

Sebastian and Cory are both male cat-human hybrids. Cory is the taller of the two, standing at 5’10” and Sebastian at 5’8”, he’s also far more… affectionate.

Sebastian and Cory are childhood friends, growing up next door from each other, practically living at each others houses. Sebastian is the dark, broody type, so much so that the only one that can read him is Cory! Speaking of which, Cory is the total opposite.

He’s the happy, social butterfly, always finding something to purr about. Or someone.

You met Cory during one of your college classes. He and Sebastian were taking different courses so he was moping looking for someone to sit with when he saw you.

He immediately started chatting you up, his ears perky and his tail swishing behind him as he talked your ear off about the class. Despite coming off as air headed, he was very helpful and even offered to buy you coffee after school so you could study. That’s when you met his best friend, Sebastian.

Sebastian wasn’t too excited to meet you, keeping a sour expression on his face the entire time. Eyeing you angrily as he sipped his sweet drink, scrunching up his nose whenever you made direct eye contact with him.

Cory just smiled and pressed on, ignoring his friend’s behavior and focusing solely on you. The only reason he didn’t stop Sebastian from brooding, is because he knew that Sebastian actually took a liking to you. That’s just how he shows it.

Cory and Sebastian pretty much just invite themselves to your place, even when you’re not around. You’ll come back to your dorm to find Sebastian brooding on the couch and Cory eating your snacks, but they’re simply too pushy for you to do anything about it.

Sebastian will cook for you in return, eerily watching you eat. Cory attempts to clean, but only makes a bigger mess for you and Sebastian to clean up. But scolding him always makes you feel better, so it’s a win-win.

Plus Cory makes an excellent body pillow, he’s warm and soft, if not a little round from Sebastian’s cooking. Sebastian simply broods from the other end of the room, glaring at the two of you. You aren’t sure who he’s jealous of, but inviting him to cuddle is practically a death sentence.

You almost died from suffocation during your first movie night with them, they run pretty warm too, it was like being stuck between a fire and lava while being trapped in an oven. But it doesn’t stop them. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?

You all became such good friends that it got to the point where you all pretty much lived at each others dorms. Sebastian and Cory share their dorm, so you’re always welcome there and vice versa.

So you’re bound to see them in the nude at some point. Whether Cory is just coming out of the shower or Sebastian decides to walk around shirtless. But that’s fairly normal, right?

And so is sleeping in the same bed. I mean, you’ve all fallen asleep on the couch together, so who cares that you’re sandwiched between the two of them?

And them asking for your help with their heat is also completely normal. Cory and Sebastian will practically drag you to bed, or the couch, or the carpet. One will be plowing your insides while the other cooks dinner or breakfast. After you’re fed they’ll kiss and lick you all over, shoving both of their cocks into you.

[merakiui]

crow & goat in courtship.

yandere!rollo flamme x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, dub-con, coercion, religious symbolism/imagery, mentions of pregnancy, implied breeding kink, obsession, alcohol/intoxication, slight codependency, non-consensual touching/groping, au in which you attend classes at nbc instead of nrc under rollo's supervision note - the crow is always on call.

i. “but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death” (james 1:14-15).

Rollo answers on the third ring.

He always does—claims it’s polite to answer after three chimes just as it’s right to knock thrice before entering a residence. He’s stubborn in his ways, a crow bound by routine, only ever doing things in threes. Habitual to a fault, strictly so. You are similar in that regard; you find solace in the familiarity of predictable patterns. The relief that stems from knowing what will come next—in being prepared for all manner of events even if you haven’t yet reached the first.

But then you also like fun, and the best sort of fun is often had with a disregard for habit. Disorder and spontaneity. Throwing all caution to the wind. Trusting in the arms of the crow who will catch you, the carefree goat, when you fall.

“Good evening,” he mutters into the phone, his voice sounding so close despite the distance between you and him. “It’s rather late. Is there a specific reason you’re calling?”

“Rollo! Hey! Hiii,” you drawl, grinning like a fool. You stagger through the door into the chilly, starless night, your heels slipping on cracked, frozen pavement. “Whoa!” You stumble against the railing with a carefree giggle. “Almost lost my footing!”

There’s a stalling silence on his end. And then, with a deep inhale, he asks evenly, “Have you gone out?”

“Mm. Yeah. Went out to celebrate with some friends.”

“Some friends?”

“Like one or two…or a whole house full of ’em.”

“(Name).”

“What?” When he doesn’t reply, you laugh. Not because it’s humorous or embarrassing, but to merely fill the silent gap. “What? Roro, you’re sho stern. Don’t lecture me!”

“So you’ve been drinking.”

“What?! No!” With an offended scoff, you shake your head even though he’s not here to witness it. “You know NBC’s no-booze rule. I’m not gonna get caught—won’t get caught.”

“You slurred your speech and called me ‘Roro’—both in the same sentence, mind you.”

“So what? Rollo, Roro. Tomato, potato.”

“It’s to-may-to, to-mah-to. And—” he exhales an exhausted breath— “Never mind. That’s besides the point. Why, pray tell, have you called me at midnight?”

“Why’re you up at midnight?”

“I could ask the same of you.”

“Not fair! I asked first!”

“Not quite.” There’s a smile in his voice when he speaks next. “If I were to visit your room right now—knock on the door and wait there—would you let me in?”

“Yeaaah,” you start to say, only to catch yourself halfway in the trap. “No!”

“No?”

“No…thank you. No visitors tonight. S’late and I gotta study for tomorrow’s exam.”

“And a party will somehow aid in that endeavor? (Name), you do realize you’ve spun one too many lies and now you’re woefully entangled.”

“Less poetry and more picking me up.”

“Ah, so that’s what this is about.”  

“Rollo, please be nice,” you whine, your lips twisting into a pout. “S’cold and I didn’t bring a jacket and I’m kinda-maybe-sorta a little…”

“A little…?” he encourages, and you can just envision that self-satisfied smirk of his.

“A little-drunk-but-also-not-really-drunk-but-also-totally-drunk,” you hastily admit in a string of syllables. Snowfall swirls around you, and you grasp the bannister to prevent yourself from falling over. “Oh, it’s snowing.”

“I can see perfectly clear from my window. Beautiful, is it not?”

“So stop being an obtuse dick and come get me before I freeze!”

“Should that come to pass, you may just rival the Righteous Judge at the entrance. I’ll be sure to polish you every month.”

“I’m gonna kill you. I’m gonna poison your coffee and watch you drink it, and then we’ll see who’s stiffer than a statue. It’ll be you—in death, y’know!”

“Will you now?”

“If you don’t pick me up, yeah!”

There’s the distinct sound of shuffling. You hear crisp pages turning and then a book closing before the rustling of fabrics invades your keen ears. You picture your responsible friend pacing around his room as he dresses himself for the weather.

“Very well,” he says after a moment, ever the composed gentleman. “Send me the address.”

“You’re the best. Love you lots. Thank you! Thank you!” You press your lips together to mimic obnoxious kissing sounds, which elicits a huff of amusement from him. “It’s not a far walk. Promise.”

“Stay on the phone with me. I’ll be there shortly. And don’t go anywhere.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

“You do realize sneaking out is against the rules, yes?”

“Aaand here comes the lecture. Gimme a break. Can’t a girl celebrate her birthday in peace?”

You drag your hand over your mouth and wipe sticky wine residue away. In the process, you smear black lipstick. Dark like night, like a crow’s inky feathers, it leaves your once-flawless appearance in disarray.

“There are much better ways to celebrate. Did I not say I’d take you into town this weekend and we could celebrate then?”

“That’s so far from now.”

“It’s three days away, (Name).”

“Still too far.”

“Don’t expect me to provide cover if you get caught.”

“And you can just leave campus whenever you please?”

“This is different.”

“Yeah?” You giggle into the speaker, warm and fuzzy and endlessly entertained. It’s enough of a distraction to keep winter from seeping into your marrow. “How so?”

“This is official Student Council business.”

“Really?” you ask with an impressed whistle. 

“Indeed. On account of my being President, it’s only natural I punish students who conduct themselves poorly. Shall we review your list of infractions and decide on a suitable penalty together?”

“I’d rather we not.”

“Oh, but I insist. Perhaps our discussion and the cold will sober you and teach you a valuable lesson about integrity.”

With an exaggerated sigh, you lower onto the step to await his arrival. The icy stone digs harshly into your rear, which is hardly covered by your too-short dress. It’s definitely not fingertip length or weather-appropriate. You shiver and stuff your hand into the pocket of your cropped sweater. You should take shelter inside, where it’s plenty cozy and inviting, but your inflated pride disagrees. Retreating to the warmth after you’ve already bid farewell would be foolish. At least, that’s what the alcohol in your system is telling you.

So the goat endures the cold, for it knows that that is all that awaits it as the crow closes in.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m an academic criminal. Get on with it, President Flamme.”

“Let’s see. You’ve disobeyed campus curfew, snuck out on a school night, attended a party when your grades could use improvement, neglected your studies, drank carelessly, called the one person who can and will punish you for this and the aforementioned…”

The sound of crunching snow pierces the air then, and you look up in time to see Rollo approaching. He’s dressed in a long woolen overcoat with a scarf twined around his throat and a hat pulled down over his ears. He smirks at you from where he stands on the pavement, cutting the call and sliding his phone into his pocket. Tilting his head at you, he pulls another coat from under his arm and offers it to you.

“And you’re dressed for your death.”

“Okay, that one’s personal.”

Rolling your eyes, you rise on unsteady legs. He meets you at the stairs, climbing two of them to help you into the coat. It’s an embrace more welcoming than that of a lover’s, so soft and comfortable that it immediately rejuvenates your weary skeleton. It smells like Rollo, too—like coffee and weathered pages in an old book. You hum your approval, snuggling into the fluffy fabric. He’s plopping his hat on your head next, tugging it so far down that you almost slip on the slick stoop. Like he always has, ever since he first met you, he catches you. 

“Hello to you, too.”

You blink back at him. “Yeah, thanks. I owe you.”

“Let me see your hands.”

He takes them in his, runs his thumbs over the tops, and then procures mittens from his pockets. You watch him slide both over your hands, rubbing them together briefly to generate heat at a faster rate. Your body sways, gaze unfocused. He’s just about to unwind his scarf from his shoulders when you reach out to stop him.

“I’m good. This is enough.”

“You’ll catch your death—”

“And you won’t in just a coat and scarf? At least let me give you your hat back.”

He shakes his head, holding his hand up in objection. “You’ve been out in this weather longer. It’s only fair. But, really, did you have to wait out here? Couldn’t you have gone inside?”

“My pride’s on the line.”

Rollo’s unamused stare cuts through you. “You won’t have much pride left if you’re encased in ice.”

“Then we’d best get moving. Campus awaits!”

You wrap your arm around him, clinging out of instinct. Rollo peers at the proximity, his lips upturned in a covert half-smile, and his arm snakes slowly around your waist in return. You don’t notice this, for you’re too busy dragging your feet through the snow while he acts as a helpful crutch, stable in a way you just aren’t. Not right now, at least.

But then the goat is never stable enough to survive the inevitable—the swift, sacrificial blade that befalls and beheads, leaving gory spatters to run red and visceral in the wake of the end.

You’ve never known, and you never will. How could you when he’s been nothing but cordial? A clean slate. Admirable guidance. A helpful friend. Your only friend.

The crow descends in three knocks. He lets himself in regardless of whether you wish to have him as a guest. He is unwanted and feared, the very foundation of death and destruction, and he has set his beady eyes on you—the goat.

It’s common knowledge that you cannot pray away the crow. He persists, as always, quiet even when his wings beat against his sleek, feathered body like the loudest war drums. And the caw—the dreadful caw! It’s a most disturbing cry, one that pierces through the dark like jarring slivers of light in shadow. Or a butcher’s blade through flesh, sawing through sinew to get to brilliant bone beneath. The hoarse call of Death’s crows—they circle in a murder, swooping down to meet you as harbingers of malevolence.

Rollo has always strived to lead a virtuous existence defined by a rigidly righteous moral compass. In the gloomy pits of misery and hatred, where he festers in a bundle of tar-colored feathers, he does not hope for sunshine. He no longer knows the uplifting ebullience of life’s greatest miracles. Because there is no miracle in death or tragedy. Because there is no happiness to be found in a doomed hand, every card showcasing Death and its many forms. Not for him. Never for him.

But then, amidst the despair and despondency, each all-consuming, a goat fell into his lap.

A divine offering to the crow, who is so far from divinity himself, can only mean one thing. It is neither conciliatory nor a reward.

It is a sacrifice.

But then the City of Flowers adores its goats—reveres them for all that they are. Goats are cherished, not sacrificed. But to drag a nameless, magicless goat from the grounds of its far-off, inconceivable pasture—is that not the cruelest form of sacrifice? To drop this goat into the equitable embrace of the crow—is that not the sweetest gift? Generous yet unfair. Plucked right from the folds of another heaven.

The mortal coil can be callous, which is precisely why the crow is permitted to exist in impartiality. Death does not care for who you were in life and who you will be in the next, and the crow only ever oversees finales. Never beginnings. Much like a deity does not care for what good you can do if you do not first adore them in copious adequacy.

The crow carries with him a most fearsome knell—the chime of judgment, to be delivered right on time like an execution staged for noon.

All throughout life, you can plan for the crow and all that he shall deliver, and still you will never be fully prepared to greet him. He brings misfortune bundled in baskets woven from the bones of sacrifices past. In holy scripture, it is the goat who is punished most often—who is slaughtered at the altar, who is arranged as peace to quell the torrential fury of the deity, who is made to suffer at the hands of those hoping to avoid damnation or godly wrath, who is meant to shoulder the blame when no one else wants to. Favors have been bought with the blood of the goat, its head nestled amidst verdant grasses, pure forevermore even when it is dyed carmine. It appeases and pleases.

So it’s just—religiously so—that the crow takes the goat for himself, strips it bare, and proves to the prying eyes in heaven that the greatest sin is more than lustful temptation.

For the crow—for Rollo—the heaviest sin, a vile, cursed burden from his very first breath—it is existence itself.

And only the blood of a pure goat can wash away such filth—can cleanse what has been rotting within. The goat can make a garden out of the crow—bring life and love to its barren insides regardless of however fleeting its presence may be. It is within this garden—within the softest, fertile soil—where the crow shall sow the most special seeds.

You cross the bridge with Rollo, your laughter filling the cloudy sky as you recall all manner of amusing stories from the past few hours. Drinking games paired with drunken gossip. Delicious wines and snacks. A party with an energy so lively it could rival the city’s annual festivals. Even though he doesn’t seem outwardly pleased to hear any of it, he listens well and occasionally stops to steady you before you can topple over the railing into the water below. Your heels clack against smooth, frosted stone, and the wind whips at your face, each snowflake biting and vicious. Noble Bell’s vast campus waits just beyond the wrought iron gate, standing proud and backdropped by the night.

“You think anyone’s up?” you ask, curling your fingers into his arm as he guides you through.

Rollo eases the gate shut. “They might if they hear you. It would be best to keep quiet.”

You pantomime zipping your lips and discarding a nonexistent key. He quirks a small smile at that and then hurries you along. Nights are always peaceful at Noble Bell. The halls are desolate and quiet, devoid of all signs of student life. Your and Rollo’s shoes click in unison as you walk through the hall and past the courtyard. You gaze at the arched openings, counting each one as they become fainter with the growing distance.

Your breath materializes in front of you when you sigh. “I’m so sleepy. I wanna go to bed for a thousand years.”

“You’ll miss your exam if you do that,” he chides, tutting. “And every other exam that will follow.”

“That’s the point!” Your voice bounces off the walls, returning to you in a reverberating echo. Cringing under Rollo’s disapproving glower, you speak softer. “Oops. Sorry.”

“Just how much have you had to drink? You can hardly walk straight without leaning on me for support.” He narrows his eyes, his lecherous gaze crawling down to your bare legs. “Not that I mind…”

His words don’t reach you, for they’re swallowed in a howling gale as it sweeps across the courtyard. You spy the dormitories then, each one looking more like gingerbread covered in confectioners’ sugar instead of buildings dusted with snow. Your eyelids droop while you cross the distance to reach your designated building, your every movement feeling slower than molten molasses, and by the time you’re actually inside the dorm—Rollo’s shushed you more than once—you’re yearning for the warmth of your bed.

So it’s bewildering when, rather than your own room, you stop at Rollo’s instead.

He opens the door and steps inside with you in tow. You keep your mouth shut, too tipsy to think coherently. After he clicks the lamp on, which leaves the room awash in soft shades of amber, he shrugs his coat off, draping it over a nearby chair. You drag yourself over to his bed and flop down, squeezing your eyes shut to block out both the light and your spinning surroundings. Rollo doesn’t say anything, but you hear him shuffling about his room, crossing to close and lock the door before walking back towards you. The mattress dips under his weight, and you feel nimble fingers working to undo the buttons on your coat.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” you ask, cracking your eyes open just as he’s pulling the coat from your person.

Rollo folds it neatly and sets it aside. “You’re practically melting into my bed already. It would be quite the undertaking to make the walk back to your room at this hour.”

“So considerate,” you tease, grinning up at him. Sleep stretches your expression into something dazed, and you yawn loudly. “Then I’m gonna sleep here. Wake me up before class.”

You almost drift off, but those frigid fingers are moving to tug you out of your sweater next. They crawl across your bare shoulders like a spider on a web.

“You really are something,” he marvels, glancing at your body sprawled beneath him. “To brave the cold in such thin material…”

“Stupid choice. I know.”

“It appears we’re in agreement.”

“Shut up,” you snap back with a weak laugh. “You’re no better, showing up so cozy and then giving everything to me.”

Rollo memorizes the way the form-fitting dress hugs your figure. He inhales a shaky breath and brings his hands back to his sides. Your chest is right here. So close. So frustratingly close.

He can’t indulge. He really shouldn’t. It’s unbecoming to show such unfair favorability when he’s meant to remain impartial. Death should not lust for the beauty of life because it only knows endings—or the beginnings of ghostly eternity. The crow should not allow himself to be swept up in tumultuous temptation.

And the goat is the only friend he’s known—the only one who understands the crow, if only by a few meager slivers. But someday the goat will know.

Rollo swallows his inhibitions, beating his urges away with a stick. He’s not one for rash decisions; he’s meticulous and thoughtful. He would never take such a risk—would never nosedive into a crude confession. He’s plotted it in his diary, but it’s never come to fruition. He restrains himself because he must. Because it’s the polite and proper thing to do when caught up in courtship. Because if he opens his torso and allows you to poke around inside, you’ll find that he is not the friend you’ve known for all these months.

He is a fiend, devilishly so, wearing the hide of a goat to put the real one at ease.

Warring with rationality, he slides away from you and intends to recover at his desk. He’ll scrawl all of the things he wishes to do to you in there and that will be enough. That will help clear his head of the intoxicating fog that settles whenever he’s with you in private. But then he’s reaching to untie the canopy draped over his bed, each corner undone within seconds. The sheer curtains fall in thin layers, confining the both of you to this island in the middle of a barren sea. It’s darker in here, dimly lit by the faint glow of the lamp outside.

You blink up at him, owlish.

“You…” He stops himself, shakes his head, and turns away. Hastily, he fishes his handkerchief from his pocket. With this enclosed propinquity, he can smell your perfume. It’s spiced and flowery—alluring and adorable all at once—and it assaults both his nose and mind. “You should sleep. It’s late.”

This is for the best. The crow is only meant to look after the goat, remain unaffected even in the face of lustful, fateful sacrifice.

But you’re here. You’re splayed like a spill, perfectly imperfect, and your shoulders are a canvas coveting kisses. He clutches his handkerchief in a white-knuckled fist.

“Mm, okay. Night…”

“Yes… Yes, good night,” he mumbles, lowering his handkerchief. He swallows thickly.

This is for the best.

But even though he thinks this, his arm is stretching out. Closer. Closer. So close, until his hand is hovering just above your chest. He’s so close.

When will he ever have another chance as fortuitous as this?

His hand closes around your breast and he squeezes it experimentally. It’s soft when his fingers dig in gently, depressing with the pressure of his digits. Rollo’s green hues flick to your face. Your eyes are shut, and soft snores slip from your parted lips. He glimpses your chest again and, with the utmost care, slides your dress down to free your breasts. They’re mostly bare, save for the heart-shaped pasties covering your nipples. Rollo heaves a disbelieving sigh.

“Promiscuous,” he mutters, plucking the edge of the first adhesive and peeling it away to reveal the perky nipple beneath. You look so soft, so clean, so pure… What was he even worried about? No one’s had you before. He’s sure of it.

He’s about to remove the other heart when your voice freezes him.

“What…are you doing?”

He holds your gaze. It’s tense for a moment, unspoken accusations brewing between the both of you.

“A massage,” he blurts, but there isn’t a hint of haste in his tone. He suspected this outcome when he chose to traverse the line of right and wrong—and ultimately sided with the former. Because to him it’s right, even if it’s wrong. He knows what will soon follow: disgust and detestation.

Instead, you giggle. It’s sleepy and silly-sounding, but it’s also light and lively.

You catch his hand in yours and drag it back to your chest. “If you wanted to touch, just ask,” you murmur, your words slurring. “Nothin’ wrong with it.”

You’re not just perfect and pure. You’re everything.

Yes, it’s the alcohol blurring your brain and the intimacy of being trapped in a quiet, comfortable space such as this one that allows you to desire him. Would it be the same if you were sober? He can’t quite say, but he doesn’t wish to know. This is enough. This is paradise.

He kneads slow, steady motions into your breast, and you watch from where you’re lying on the bed. His other hand slithers between your legs to search for your clothed clit. Your breath hitches just as his fingers brush it, and he presses in, rubbing with his index. Your arm falls over your face, and your chest rises with every breath.

“How does it feel?” he asks, rolling your nipple between chilly digits.

“Not enough,” you bemoan, curling your fingers into a fist. “S’not enough…”

“How fascinating. I suppose cheap wine truly does turn you into a pute.”

“No… Was definitely expensive. The fancy kind.”

“Was it now?” He circles your clit, predatory and shark-like, his eyes alight with glee. “You say that, but look at the state it’s left you in. Utterly disheveled.”

“That’s because of—” you gasp, your voice rising in pitch— “because of you…”

His heart hammers in his chest, a resounding, pounding melody.

The City of Flowers treasures its goats, and the crow loves his fiercely even though he shouldn’t.

“Did you enjoy drinking yourself foolish and indulging in debauchery?” His fingers dance along your inner thigh, hooking around the hem of your underwear. “Was it a fun celebration?”

You lower your arm to glare halfheartedly at him. “Someone sounds jealous.”

“More so disappointed, mon chou chou,” he coos, sugary, sickeningly sweet. “Someone could have taken advantage of you. Someone could have tainted you with magic.” His lip curls up into a nasty sneer. It lingers for a moment before fading into something calm. He gazes at you, oddly tender. “That didn’t happen, though, yes?”

You shake your head and flinch when he drags your panties down. Dewy strings of your slick come away with it, and you shudder at your newfound nudity. He hums approvingly and drags his finger through the wet patch staining your panties. Driven by libertine compulsion, he stretches viscous strands of your essence between two fingers.

Your eyes find his deceitful greens once more. Silence sparks between the both of you, quickly broken by your exhalation. Rollo kneels before you, taking in the sight of you as your face wavers through the stages of consideration. Upon arriving at your conclusion, you sit up slightly and shuck your dress over your head. And then you’re lying back, shaking your panties from off your ankle, and wrapping your legs around his waist to draw him in closer. 

You grin, coquettish. “Why not search for yourself if you’re so worried, Mr. Student Council President?”

There’s no turning back. Not that he ever would. Not when the goat’s given him the signal. The blade doesn’t fall, but he does.

And this is better than dreams and erotica. This is real.

He surges forward to fit his lips against yours. Sloppy and inexperienced, he molds himself to your body. You tug him against you, your hands working to undress him. Clothes and shoes are cast aside between open-mouthed kisses, torn off half-buttoned and ripped away from soles. You breathe him in, gasping into his mouth. Translucent strings of saliva connect your mouths when you part, soon broken when you lean in for a chaste peck.

“You’re okay,” he says, the words practically bleeding onto your own tongue with how close he is. “Still as pure as the day I first met you.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“The best thing.”

His third and fourth fingers prod at the depths of your pussy, pressing inwards. Shallow at first. He watches your face unblinkingly, burning every pleasured contortion into his brain, and slides his thumb along your clit. Your breathing staggers, coming in quick huffs, and you grab at the bedsheets to steady yourself. Rollo works you open on those fingers, curling and scissoring in equal measure. The slick squelches join in the salacious symphony you’re currently producing. Every sigh and groan come together in perfect harmony. You’re a heavenly harp, and he’s plucking your strings like an expert musician.

“Tonight is unforgivable,” he adds, and you blink through blissful tears to view him. “Folly is the worst distraction.”

“Then be stupid with me,” you joke, running your hands over his shoulders. He’s so cold. “Warm yourself with me.”

And he will because he’s always wanted to. He’s desired it. Craved it. Coveted it. Thought of nothing else for days and days, each delusion so cyclical it often felt tangible.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, sliding his other hand up your hip and towards your rib. He traces the path of where it lies beneath layers of flesh before pressing down to feel it. “So beautiful…”

Your hand glides into his, fingers twining like silken thread around a spool. A lopsided smile lifts your lips, and you preen under him. “Yeah? Am I really?”

“I wouldn’t lie about the obvious…” Your walls hug his fingers tighter then, and a shiver electrifies your nerves. He hums again, quite pleased. “Oh, did you like that?”

“I did. Very much.”

Lashes fluttering against your cheekbones, your head thrown back in ecstasy ever-mounting, you render him ensorcelled. Like a prized Renaissance nude, a goat laid to sacrifice in the crow’s nest, you are beatific. Divinely so.

“Allow me to reiterate then.” He hastens his pace, pumping his fingers relentlessly. You tamp down a shameless moan. “You’re exquisitely beddable. A work of art. Enchanting. Une belle femme.”

You’re nearing the edge—very gradually, but not quite—and so it’s devastating when he slips his fingers out, each one thoroughly coated in you. They shimmer in the dim light, reminding you of where they had previously been.

“Put it back in,” you beg with wide, glossy eyes. “C’mon… Please don’t stop now. Was so close. So close and—”

Your complaints are curbed when you follow his hand as it moves to wrap around his half-hard cock. He strokes himself thrice, using your slick as lube, until his cock is curving up against his stomach. You stare at him; he stares right back.

And then you realize he intends to go all the way.

“Wait, Rol…lo… S’not my safe day,” you say, shifting away. Whether impatiently or anxiously, he can’t tell, but he can certainly guess. Your world spins once, a dizzying blur, before it promptly clears. In the very center of your vision, as he’s always been, Rollo remains. “S’not safe…”

He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling with levity. “I know.”

He’s kept track, dutiful like always.

You attempt to crawl out from under him, but he stops you. Your stomach churns.

“I’ll pull out in time,” he promises, rubbing soothing circles into your plush hips.

Even with the alcohol still buzzing through your system, you aren’t convinced. “N-No, really, we should stop here…”

“You’ll feel so good. Come now, aren’t we nearly there already?”

Rollo lifts your legs onto his shoulders. You squirm with more determination this time, but his fingers dig into your thighs. With a startled squeak, you sink into the mattress, cowed into submission.

“We… We can’t.”

“Why not?” The smooth, soft head of his cock prods curiously at your pussy.

You chew your lip, admitting in a meek tone, “I… I could get p-pregnant…”

“Pregnant,” he parrots, tasting the word as if it’s a delicacy he has yet to sample. His cock twitches. “Pregnant…”

“So… So that’s why…”

“Do you not want children?”

“I… Well… Now is kinda…”

He presses onwards, sinking in slowly. Your breath hitches; your heart stumbles. The intrusion is not entirely unwanted, for your slick, snug walls cling to his shape, and you almost give in to bodily inclination. But it doesn’t feel right. You’re scared. No matter how naturally your body reacts, you don’t want this.

“Rollo, wait—”

“It would be a wonderful thing—to see you rounded with my children.” Rollo props himself on either side of you, his body pinned to yours in sinful, sweaty connection. He exhales a deep breath, restraining himself as he pushes deeper. Patience is a virtue, after all. Your expression tightens with discomfort, and so he peppers your face with placatory kisses. “To see you grow in and—mmh—out of the most flattering maternity wear. To behold every change that blesses this beautiful body of yours… To see you swell with my love, filthy as it may be. Ah, but pregnancy is just as messy… Nevertheless, it shall be a special bond for us—a sacred vow, if you will. We are connected here—” he punctuates this point by slotting the rest of his length inside, and your legs involuntarily close around him to keep him there— “and soon here when life develops within.”

One hand splays across your stomach to pat it with fondness. You choke on your helpless whimper when he rocks his hips once, experimenting with the movement. It’s awkward, but it reminds you that he’s inside. So close to your womb that in just a few more thrusts he might—

“No… No, please… Rollo, you have to—oh—have to pull out. Please pull out. Don’t wanna get pregnant…”

“Oh, but you would be so beautiful.” He breathes you in, savoring sex and floral fragrance. “If I’m allowed one miracle—just one for all the anguish I’ve endured—let it be this.”

You know not of what anguish he speaks, for he’s never verbalized it, but even so it can’t possibly be so agonizing that it would warrant such invasion.

The vise-like hold your velvety walls have on his cock is deliciously addictive. He groans while he ruts into you, his eyelids fluttering. He could be animalistic and cruel in his movements—ravish you as if the world is faced with annihilation and this is his final hour—but instead he settles for exploratory leisure. His hand fits into yours and he squeezes it gently. A feeble protest builds in your throat and so he swallows it with a hungry kiss, his mouth molding against yours.

Your nails dig into his shoulders when he draws back and slides in again, filling you deeper than before. You breathe between kisses, panting and licking into his mouth in even intervals. He does much the same, anchored to you in a way that is both temporary and yet so permanent.

The world narrows down to this single sliver of space, enclosed in a canopy. And in it, laid bare and fertile, the goat is sacrificed to the crow. Death cannot reach either one here. There is only the promise of new life, thrust upon the goat all at once.

You don’t have the willpower to object, for you’ve already found yourself entrapped, so instead you cry. Tears track down your cheeks; your mascara runs with it. Ruined. So, too, is your pitch-black lipstick, smeared along the edges of your lips and printed onto Rollo’s porcelain skin.

Rollo’s hips stutter to a halt and he holds you against him when he spills thick and hot inside. Nothing is wasted; it’s all emptied deep within. If you’re lucky, it won’t take. But if some mischievous fertility goddess has cursed you, you’ll wake nauseous in the coming weeks.

If you have anything worth praying for, it’s the former.

The both of you are panting in the aftermath, but only one is coming down from his glorious high. You remain unsatisfied, your peak not yet breached. Rollo rolls his hips once more for good measure before easing out. You crumple into the wrinkled sheets, frigid and still as a statue. Carved empty and hollow, yet stuffed with sin.

The crow has come. Though this time the gift of tragedy is something between boon and curse.

— — —

The curtains are drawn to let in sunlight. It filters in through frosted glass, each pane stamped with snow, and it blinds you the moment you try to open your eyes. You twist and turn in bed, feeling heavy with hangover. A splitting ache cracks your head in half, and you groan loudly.

“Fuckin’ hell,” you hiss, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes. “This sucks…”

You force yourself to wake after two more minutes of rolling around. Groaning once more, you sit up in bed. The canopy has been tied back in place, and when you glance sidelong at Rollo’s desk you notice something. A glass of water and a plate are waiting for you, seeming more enticing by the second. You throw the covers off, realize you’re nude seconds later, and promptly snatch them back. They’re wrapped around you like a comforting cloak. You stagger out of bed to check the contents. Two croissants, a single orange, a dollop of strawberry marmalade, and two tablets are arranged on the plate.

Hangover medicine, you realize, lifting one up to scrutinize it.

You peer around the room. It’s empty. And then you see the clock. It’s a little past noon.

“Oh,” you mumble, lowering into the chair. You clutch the blanket closer. “Rollo must be in class.”

Amidst the piercing migraine, which you quickly resolve by throwing your head back to swallow both tablets in a single gulp of water, two things occur to you. You’re in Rollo’s room. Naked. In Rollo’s room. Surely you must have spent the night after you returned from the party. Why are you naked?

But more importantly…

“Shit! My exam!” The excitement doesn’t help your current state, and you slouch in your seat, even more exhausted than before. “I completely missed it… Rollo’s gonna kill me.”

You scrub the sleep from your eyes and reach for a croissant, content with giving up. You don’t want to endure the walk of shame from Rollo’s room to yours. If anyone were to catch you, they’d certainly be left wondering.

As you nibble on the croissant, admiring the way Rollo’s arranged the contents of his room, you spot the edge of something beneath the plate. Perplexed, you push it aside to reveal a note. Penned in Rollo’s effortlessly pretty script, it reads:

I’ll forgive your transgression just this once if you’ll forgive mine. For now, get some rest. I’ve left breakfast here. Stay for however long you’d like.

You scowl at his attempt of ‘breakfast,’ and your stomach rumbles in dissatisfaction.

“Right?” you say to your stomach, clicking your tongue. “If anything, this is hardly a snack.”

But you’re grateful for his efforts. He cares. He always has. From the very first day you found yourself in this world, he cared.

While you peel the orange, pondering foggy recollections of last night, you begin to realize just how sticky you feel. As if someone’s slobbered all over you and left it to dry. The feeling persists between your thighs.

You pause momentarily, overcome with an uncanny sense of panic as you piece the puzzle together. The still-forming picture does not look good.

“Shit…” you whisper, haunted with a fragmented timeline. “What the hell did we do last night?”

You know. The deep, dark part of your brain knows, but you don’t want to confront it. Because Rollo wouldn’t, right? He couldn’t. He’s always done what’s best for you, so he wouldn’t.

Right?

[doumadono]

EMERGENCY REQUEST

Hii, i was wondering if you could write platonic Aizawa emergency request in which hr has a daughter ho has veen strugling with self harm and su1cidal thoughts, please.

I had been really low latly and i relapes after 7 months of not self harming.

Thanks love 🩷

A/N: I'm so sorry to hear that you've been struggling lately, Nonnie. Remember, setbacks are a part of recovery, and it's okay to ask for help when you need it. You've made progress before, and you can do it again. Sending you love and support ♥

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

Aizawa is incredibly protective and caring towards you, his precious daughter.

He always makes time for you, even with his busy schedule as a pro hero and teacher at U.A.

Aizawa is observant, noticing even the slightest changes in your behavior.

One day, he accidentally walks in on you wrapping your wrists in bandages after harming yourself, and he's filled with terror.

Despite his fear, he immediately approaches you, sitting down beside you on the bed. "What's going on?" he asks straightforwardly, his voice laced with concern. "Why are you doing this to yourself, sweetheart"

You look up at him, your Y/E/C eyes filled with pain and uncertainty. "I... I just can't handle it anymore," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. You explain that the pressure of hero studies and internships has been weighing heavily on you, and you don't know know how to cope anymore. "One day, I accidentally hurt my hand... and... it felt so good... like all my stress was relieved," you begin, tears streaming down your flushed face. "So I started doing this... from time to time... and... I couldn't stop... I was punishing myself for not being perfect, daddy," you say, your sobs becoming uncontrollable.

Aizawa listens attentively, his heart breaking at the thought of his daughter struggling alone. Without hesitation, he offers his unwavering support, reassuring you that you're not alone in this, his strong arms wrapping tightly around your trembling form as he offers you the tightest hug he can.

You hug him back tightly, whimpering, "I'm sorry, daddy, I'm so sorry!"

As you're held in his arms, you don't notice the tears streaming down Shota's face as he comforts you. He soothes you with gentle words and his presence, rocking you back and forth in his arms. "You're perfect just the way you are," he assures, clearing his throat to hide the hoarseness in his tone from the tears he shed for you. "We're in this together. You're not alone. We're a team. Always remember that you can come to me with all your problems, even the ones that seem small or irrelevant. Your problems are mine too. I'm your dad, and I'll do whatever I can to help you. Always."

You nod, listening to your dad's words. "I didn't want to bother you with..."

He interrupts you, shushing you, gently cupping your wet cheeks in his hands and making you meet his gaze. "You are never a bother. Never. You're my entire world, babygirl."

Aizawa makes sure to prioritize your well-being, adjusting his schedule to spend more time with you and offering words of encouragement whenever you need them.

He often says sweet little things like "I love you, sweetheart" or "you mean the world to me." He also praises your efforts, saying things like "you did very well on this test. I know you worked hard for a good grade, but even if it's not what you expected, remember that grades don't define your skills, knowledge, or spirit."

Through your journey, Aizawa learns to open up more to you, strengthening your bond and creating a safe space for you to express all of your feelings.

Even though Aizawa is hesitant at first, after realizing the seriousness of the situation, he doesn't hesitate to ask his friends for help.

And of course, they respond.

Hizashi visits Aizawa's apartment every day, bringing groceries and always having a little sweet snack for you that he knows you enjoy.

Despite the challenges you both face, Aizawa remains by your side, ready to support you through every step of your recovery journey.

[serxinns]

Hi! I was wondering if u can do a normal class 1a x reader platonic hc’s? Like readers quirk is like briar from league of legends and readers pretty sweet but scares class 1a a lil

I haven't did fucking headcannons In a WHILE I hope you enjoy them!

Disclaimer I do not know much about this character so if I mischaraterize something then I'm sorry

•ever since you transferred to Ua, they always thought you were a bit weird, especially when you 1st introduced yourself. It was a wild one.

•"Hello, the names y/n l/n and I think blood is tasty!" There was a sudden silence in the class a couple of sweat drops formed on some of the students while you just casually smiled like what you said was completely normal... oh boy it was gonna be a long but fun ride for sure

•your 1st ever companions were Mina and Denki the three of you matched each other's energy and chaoticness it was like 2 dumbasses and one less of a dumbass the 3 of you would get into the most shit like one time you convince Kirishima that he could be a hammer so you somehow got a big nail and test it out resulting in Kirishima knocked out and you 3 getting scolded by and yelled at by katsuki , making iida realizing he has to deal with an extra chaotic person now

• Next was Kirishima your victim I mean your friend you can count on Kirishima was quick to like you due to your lay loose and enthusiastic behavior making him want to be you at times two whenever the two of you trained together you were encouraged each other Kirishima especially and whenever he feels insecure you would encourage him and make sure he's a strong manly man he is! Yall two are just loveable idiots

•Shoto and you had a strange yet wholesome friendship at 1st. Shoto was uncomfortable and cold towards you, which you didn't mind, and you respected his boundaries, but it all clicked when he saw you eating soba. "You like soba?" You turned to face the expressionless boy with a bright smile. "Of course! I even like it with sesame oil, grilled chicken, and a yummy fried egg! Want some?" You reached into the fridge and handed him an extra soba pack and that's how your friendship began even without the soba he thinks ur a pretty interesting person to talk to even with your bizarre talks

"Omg bro you look like that penguin dude from sanrio!"

"I have a cousin name sanrio?"

•next was Ochako she's a tiny bit scared of you at 1st worrying you might get her blood (cough cough flashbacks with toga) but you quickly reassured her that you wouldn't do it without permission which makes her feel a bit better after a bit of time and communicating with each other she starts to feel a bit comfortable with you like would invite you to her room for advice and stuff and the two if you would go out at night to watch the stars with some other students like tsuyu or maybe Tokoyami her most favorite activity is to tell space facts to you (I hc her as a space geek)

•Momo was always your go to whenever you need help with a test and she acts like she's annoyed with it but she genuinely enjoys your company you may the studying sessions fun and interesting for her whenever there's a big test that you forgot to study about all you had to do was go to her dorm and give her the puppy eyes and if she sighs you know that's a instant she then help you study mostly you just copying her notes and make SURE you get a Good grade if not she's gonna make you test the test again untill you get a good grade but outside of studying she spoils you with gifts and more to show off to your other classmates and invites you and the girls for a tea party which ends up quite chaotic

•Jirou was your music bestie you and her trade music Playlists like it's Halloween candy you like cutely but with disturbing music types of songs while jirou like cozy, calm, and peaceful genre but she admits your types of songs are amazing! But you sometimes scare her with your type of music one time she overheard your headphones blasting some sort of innocent cheery music talking about "we'll be together forever!" She thought it was cute so she asked you what song it was and you told her the lyrics and..

"Hey y/n what's the title of that song is sounds catchy?"

"So you became the moon!"

"Awww that's sounds pretty cute whats it about anyways?"

"It's about two kids drowning in a frozen late and they became together in heaven!"

"...you know what that's probably one of the tamest songs you played knowing you I'll take it"

Yea let's just say she was used to your kooky creepy music but she didn't mind, as long as that song slaps she's jamming it with you!

•Bakugo and you were fucking CHAOTIC rivals like yall two would never get along especially when the two of you 1st met you and bakugo would make a competition out of everything to the point he stopped paying attention to izuku at times which he doesn't know if he should be worried for blessed maybe both but the two of you will cause a storm one time yall wanted played Mario party with sero, and sato to see who was the best and it esuclated fast everyone in the class were rooting for you or bakugo even most of class 1b joined in on this making bets and momomeven making merch of this, shit was like a football game but unfortunately it was cut short by a angry aizawa with fuzzy bunny slippers with a hello kitty pajamas (don't even ask) but after thst night the two of you became popular

▪︎ but aside from then bakugo secretly respects you your determination and you wanting to give your all makes him admire that somehow so be bugs you everyday for now on wanting to see that determination again even the rest of the class started to notice and tease him about it which pissed him off

• Izuku isn't at all scared by you but rather is intrigued by your personality and quirk when you 1st introduced yourself he asked alot of questions about you, how your quirk operates, kind of quirk is it, do you drink animal blood-? He wants to know everything and you let him, you and him will chat each other's ears off about your favorite pro hero's and sometimes even go out to hunt for rare hero merch, you even helped izuku by participating in the black Friday event to get a all might themed ice cream maker that he has this day thanks to you if it wasn't for you punching that Karen, he cherished that ice cream maker to this day and even host ice cream parties here and there the two of you basically shared it

• But overall you were their chaotic sibing that are willing to protect, defend, and come to your aid even if it's your fault and out on the battle field you were a beast out there that one time when you, jirou, momo and denki, beat a bunch of villians you didn't know your arm was broken untill you pointed out momo and jirou freaked out while denki ran to get some aid but strangely you weren't bothered by it rather you were joking about it

Momo- "it's ok y/n help it's on the way stay put stay calm"

Jirou - just take deep breaths and count to 10-

"I wonder if I can sling it around will it spin freely"

Both- wtf-

• Yea you were a werid bitch but you were there werid bitch and they wouldn't trade you for the world

[jnnul]

nouvelle vague

a/n: i've been in a fever dream writing this fic, honestly. i kinda just needed to write it. it means so much to me that i did though because it's something that i wish that i had learned earlier and i just love this fic so much please love her like i have. and a huge HUGE thank you to xixi and soph for beta reading! couldn't have made this fic possible without you <3 quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!

word count: 13.3k

tags: college au!, confusing love, y/n who can't get her life together, self-destructive mc x perfect donghyun with a sprinkle of best boy dongmin, so many good friends and so many lessons to be learned

warnings: explicit detail of sex (oral, foreplay, angry sex, unprotected sex...) underage drinking, and general college shenanigans! also heavy detailing of unhealthy relationships with stress, and academic pressures :(

playlist: nouvelle vague - wave to earth, fairy of shampoo - dosii, she - jannabi, 0310 - yerin baek

THERE WERE LOTS OF THINGS THAT YOU KNEW NOT TO DO.

don't leave the gas on, don't let sanghyeok lee cook anything, and don't get into pointless arguments with dongmin han that he gets overly competitive about winning.

"...which is why you've got to trust me when i say that mbti is a science that you can actually trust!"

"i don't know, min, i just think mbti is stupid. it's a pseudoscience at best, and that too is a complete overstatement," you say off-handedly, more preoccupied with finding the book you needed to write your essay on. dongmin scoffs, pressing a steepled hand to his chest in offense as he pulls down the book you were look for with the other.

"that sounds like something an intj would say," he counters, withholding the book from you. you stare at him unimpressed, arms folded over your chest.

"it sounds like something a logical person would say," you retort, waiting for him to relent and return your book. this behavior (much to your dismay) was nothing new and you knew your best friend well enough to just wait out his tantrums for you to be able to move on with your life.

dongmin looks at you expectantly and you sigh, hanging your head. "alright, alright, i'm not a logical person; i've just got a stick up my ass. are you happy now?"

your best friend harrumphs proudly and touches the book to both of your shoulders, as though he were knighting you. you roll your eyes and snatch the book from him, hugging it close to your chest for fear that he might steal it from you again.

"maybe if you actually had a stick up your ass once in a while, you wouldn't be such a killjoy all the time," dongmin snorts, narrowly dodging you when you wind up to smack him with the book (read: weapon) in your hand.

"alright so now since i haven't had sex in a while, i'm a killjoy?" you say as the both of you make your way back to the study room that you'd reserved in hopes that you'd actually get some work done today. although, you should've been wise enough to give up on such nonsensical ideas the moment dongmin texted/warned you that he would be gracing you with his presence.

"i still can't believe you won't tell me who you had sex with last. and besides, i don't think you're a killjoy," dongmin clarifies, opening the door for you to walk through. "but everyone else does."

"because i'm voluntarily celibate?"

"because you never go out anymore! you used to be so much fun, y/n. you used to be the girl that would have crazy stories from when she would party until five in the morning. the one who'd have boy after boy lining up in front of her door just to see if they would get a chance with you. not to mention the fact that you used be able to drink us all to shame. i still think you're an awesome and fun person without doing any of those things but i miss you sometimes, you know? i just can't help but wonder where that girl went and that's why everyone else can't understand why a person like you and i can be best friends when they see us now. because they don't know what you used to be like."

you sigh, tucking your hood over your shoulder as you begin to analyze the work in front of you.

"i didn't go anywhere, min and you know that. i don't care what other people think as long as my best friend knows the truth. and besides, that lifestyle was never going to be a sustainable one. i just decided that i wanted more out of life than just parties and bad grades," you explain patiently, eyes never leaving the neatly organized papers in front of you.

dongmin huffs and leans backwards into the booth, but he knows it's the truth. while he'd become friends with you because of your rambunctious and adventurous spirit back in freshman year, he'd chosen to remain best friends with you even later on because you were a good person - an ambitious person who wanted to make something out of their life.

"you can have both, you know," he mumbles and you smile gently at him before looking back down at your book.

"i know. you can have both because you were smart and made sure your grades never slipped. i didn't do that and now i'm paying the price," you remind him, and you can sense dongmin's protest about your self-deprecating statement bubbling up but he's interrupted when the study room door opens and a series of people begin to file in.

"hey, so sorry to have to kick you out but we have the room reser - wait. dongmin? what are you doing in a study room, man?" one of the men who'd walked in says.

you don't pay attention to the people walking in as you begin to gather your materials, leaving the socializing to your much more extroverted best friend. you check your watch, cursing under your breath when you realize that you'd spent too much time looking for the book and dongmin’s antics. you were supposed to switch from this study room to the one next door, because that one was available for a long period of time but only opened up right as the current one was going to be occupied.

"eh, i just came to bother y/n," dongmin says with a bored tone that everyone in the room knows is a front. "what are you guys doing here? don't you have a musty basement to throw a rager in?"

this leads all of the men and women who walked in to snicker, pointing at the poor soul who'd decided to take it up with dongmin today.

"you're basically in the frat too," the man protests and you finally register him to be jeongwoo park, one of dongmin's heaps of friends in the tsr frat.

"yeah but you have to pay to drink your own alcohol with your own dues," dongmin points out, snickering at jeongwoo. "i drink your alcohol for free."

"i say we ban this kid from our parties," another voice, hyunwoo kim pipes up, and a chorus of 'yeah's' and 'shut up jeongwoo' rise up simultaneously from both sides of the conversation. you fail to keep in your giggle as you watch dongmin get banned from the tsr frat in realtime (that you know he's going to charm his way out of somehow anyway), causing some of the people to turn their attention to you.

"y/n! how are you babe? it feels like it's been a century since we've last seen you!" one of the girls, jihyo han, says warmly and you give her a shy smile.

"i'm doing alright. swamped with projects," you say, lifting your arms up to showcase the number of books and papers you were balancing and doyeon coos sympathetically.

"that's what double majoring in english literature and architecture does to you but the woman doesn't listen to me," dongmin says, jostling you jestfully. you turn to chide him for pushing you when you accidentally lose grip of all of your work, causing it to tumble to the ground in what feels like slow-motion into heaps of unorganized messes.

"dongmin!" you hear hyunwoo scold as you swoop down to gather everything into your arms once more. another figure joins you on the ground, scooping papers into a neat stack with nimble fingers and strong arms. you look up to make eye contact with donghyun kim, immediately averting your eyes when you do, afraid of what he might find in them if he kept looking at you for too long.

"thanks," you mumble when donghyun hands you the papers he's collected and he just offers you a soft smile.

"it does feel like it's been a while since we've seen you around, y/n. even sanghyeok complains that he hasn't seen you at their place lately," donghyun says gently and you're left to shrug helplessly as you adjust to grasp at the stray pages more carefully.

"ah. yeah. i haven't really gone over to dongmin and sanghyeok's place lately because i've been in the library most of the time," you say and donghyun nods, silent as he watches you with that knowing gaze that sets your every nerve on fire.

sometimes, you wonder if donghyun knows how much of an impact he has on those around him just by the way he looks at them.

you don't have feelings for donghyun - at least no feelings worth discussing with anyone and none that you were ever willing to recall - but you're sure that pretty any one with a pair of eyes and a functioning heart could acknowledge just how attractive he was.

you were almost 99.99% sure that even if what had happened between you and donghyun hadn't happened, anyone's heart would skip at least once when they talked to him.

"i'm gonna go to the other study room," you announce hurriedly to no one in particular and dongmin takes it as his cue to bid his friends farewell as the two of you make your way to the study room.

"feel free to come to our room if it gets too loud or crowded in here!" dongmin yells over his shoulder, much to your dismay and to the chagrin of the librarian sitting at her desk a few yards away.

"sorry!" he exclaims, equally as loud, and the librarian just rolls her eyes with a forgiving smirk tugging at her lips. of course dongmin had managed to charm her too. you'd be surprised if your best friend left anyone with two legs and a heartbeat on this campus without at least an attempt to get into their pants.

or vice versa. mostly vice versa.

"oh that reminds me. sanghyeok asked me if you wanted to come to movie night this friday. you've skipped out on the last three because of work and exams but you're finally gonna be submitting all the big ones by this thursday so i don't want to hear any excuses on why you can't come to movie night. alright? alright. besides, all of the guys from our - your freshman year are gonna be there. and also, sanghyeok is gonna bring his girlfriend too so you won't be the only girl," dongmin says, his words firing out of his mouth in rapid succession.

you just nod in understanding, knowing that this shouldn't be the hill that you died on when it came to dongmin's antics.

"and i also may or may not have promised that you'd come to jaehyun's party on saturday," dongmin adds sheepishly and this finally catches your attention.

"movie night is one thing but a party is another thing, dongmin! is it a frat party or a clubbing type event? how long is the event? do you need me to send a present for him or something? isn't it his birthday soon?" you interrogate and dongmin just throws a pencil at you and puts his index finger to his lips to shush you.

"woman, do you ever shut up?" he sasses, immediately raising his hands in surrender when your eyebrows lift so high, they disappear into your hairline. "what i mean is, jaehyun said that he would give me the number of that cute girl from your structural design class that you won't give me if you come to his party."

"how does he know her? and what does that have to do with my attendance at his party?" you ask and dongmin shrugs, leaning over the table.

"it's jaehyun. he knows everything about everyone," dongmin reminds you and you have to concede to that. "and i'm not kidding when i say that people miss you y/n. you're still that fun person when you're away from your work and people haven't seen that side of you in so long. you've gotta oblige jaehyun on his birthday, don't you think?"

"...i'll think about it," you say with a sigh after a few beats of contemplation. "as long it's not a 'rager in a musty basement' like jeongwoo's parties."

dongmin lifts three fingers solemnly. "scout's honor. it's not going to be a rager in a musty basement. now please. finish your work! i'm hungry and sanghyeok promised ramen from the ramen bar."

+++

to dongmin's credit, the movie night was actually a breath of fresh air from your constant cycle of work, school, and stress. sanghyeok's girlfriend, jayoon sim, was the sweetest girl you'd ever met in your life, back when you'd met her at the beginning of the year. she was very similar to sanghyeok in the fact that she was outgoing and on the louder side but it was heartwarming to see sanghyeok start to mellow out to balance her spark.

it wasn't as though sanghyeok was toning down his personality for her - if anything, the two of them were even more chaotic together - but he seemed to like riding the backseat of the conversation more often as jayoon went on some tangent or another of the plot of the movie.

which led to lots of moments where the movie was paused by one of the five boys present at movie night (more often than not, it was sungho park, who was more intrigued by jayoon's tangents than the movie itself) and lots of popcorn being eaten in those breaks.

and that was how you found yourself standing in sanghyeok's kitchen, popping another bag of popcorn - the fourth bag in the past hour. sanghyeok had offered but you knew from personal experience that sanghyeok plus any form of cooking equals fire.

you personally thought it was a talent to be that talentless at cooking but dongmin, sanghyeok's roommate and the unfortunate soul who had to put out said fires, was not nearly as amused as you were.

"do you need any help?" you hear a voice ask behind you. you turn to make eye contact with donghyun, standing in the space that separated the kitchen from the foyer where you could faintly hear jaehyun myung and dongmin get into yet another argument about the logistics of whether or not batman could feasibly buy the mona lisa.

"it's just popping a bag of popcorn," you answer. donghyun laughs, taking another step forward into the kitchen.

"and yet sanghyeok manages to destroy the bag and the popcorn every single time," donghyun reminds you and you shrug, slipping your phone into your pocket.

"it's hard to do. you have to give him that," you admit and he laughs again, shaking his head.

"touché."

there's a blanket of silence that falls over the conversation, the argument in the other room providing background noise so it doesn't grow awkward.

you knew donghyun wasn't much of a talker but at this point, you just didn't know what to say to him anymore. he wasn't a stranger to you - he was close to dongmin, and prior to that, you had been pretty close to the five boys. they'd been the boys that you'd gone out with most of the time during the second half of freshman year and the beginning of sophomore year.

donghyun had seen you in a number of embarrassing situations; granted, most of them were while you were blackout drunk, but the number of times that you were in asaid state during the first half of your college education was embarrassing enough.

and he'd seen you...he'd seen all of you. he'd seen too much of yourself and it made you want to stuff yourself deep underground so you could escape his knowing gaze.

so while donghyun kim was no stranger to you, this new version of you was a stranger to him.

it was an odd feeling: having the knowledge of a shared past that neither of you could fully relate to any longer, and having mentalities that extended in distinctly different directions in the present.

donghyun was the prime example of being able to have it all. from what you knew about him from the past three years of tentatively close friendship, you knew that he was a strong academic who would skip out on a party here and there to make sure he could study the next morning but could be convinced into having a good time pretty much anywhere.

you've heard of a good many adventures from dongmin just this year about how the five of them had found themselves in abandoned malls or parties at the college neighboring yours, which was infamous for its ability to throw a rager for pretty much any reason.

if anything, the strongest feeling that you felt towards donghyun kim was sheer, unadulterated, pure jealousy. how could one person be so well-balanced while it felt like you were fighting an uphill battle everyday just to get everything done?

that jealousy was what had landed you in the situation you were in now: filled to the brim with stress and ready to pop at any moment. it was also that envy which had led to that mistake at the beginning of sophomore year between you and donghyun.

"y/n? are you okay?" donghyun asks, waving a hand in front of your face. you blink, turning belatedly to open the microwave door, only to see that donghyun had already done it for you.

"sorry. i spaced out for a second," you mumble, and busy yourself by searching for a new bowl, seeing as the one in the foyer was still somewhat filled with popcorn.

"you really need to take breaks more often, y/n. i feel like the stress of constantly being on the go is getting you," donghyun echoes from behind you and for some reason, the concern in his voice makes you ashamed and angry more than anything else.

easy for you to say donghyun, you want to say. everything comes easy to you. you didn't fuck up like i did. you don't have to fight everyday to make sure that you actually have a future worth living for because you weren't young and stupid.

but all you actually say is, "yeah, you're definitely right."

you avoid donghyun's heavy gaze as you pour the popcorn into the bowl, silently willing him to go back to the foyer so you could simmer in your embarrassment in peace but to your dismay, he doesn't leave.

"you're incredibly intelligent and hard-working. but if you don't give yourself a break sometimes, you're just going to burn out. i wish you'd come back to us sometimes. you can't ruin your present for your future," he says softly, and suddenly everything is just too much.

his words strike a chord in your mind somewhere and you can feel your strong front start to crumble.

you want to yell at him, scream that he had no right to tell you how to live your life and that you were going to lay in the pile of sins that you'd committed. but for some reason, all you can do is try and fight back tears.

it makes you feel so incredibly embarrassed that you'd worked so hard for the past two years to ensure that you'd never slip up. that your mistakes from freshman year and the first half of sophomore year wouldn't catch up to you.

you'd worked on yourself, working on controlling your lust for going out and having fun. on not getting affected by when people would ask you to come out with them, only to reject them for fear of what would happen to your academics. you'd worked on not showing any signs of being tired or scared of your future.

just to cry. just to cry here in front of donghyun in sanghyeok's kitchen. not in the privacy of your home where no one could see you. but the exact place in front of the exact person that you didn't want to see you cry at all.

you hastily wipe at your tears, willing them to stay in the confinement of your eyes before you could let them fall in a place that would deliver such a blow to your ego or your social standing.

donghyun is taken aback, you can tell by the way that his usually impassive face has a hint of worry written into the lines of his forehead that crinkle as he watches you try to put yourself together.

"can you give this popcorn to the others? i just need to use the restroom really quickly," you whisper hoarsely, not daring to look at donghyun in the eyes as you rush out of the kitchen, trying your best to look alright and conceal the fact that you were crying in front of the five other people in the foyer.

you know you're unsuccessful though when you hear footsteps growing louder and louder as they approached the bathroom and it takes every ounce of your strength to keep from crying harder.

"y/n? you okay? you looked kinda hurried going into the bathroom." it's dongmin, and you contemplate for a moment before slowly opening the bathroom door, pulling him in and he immediately wraps you into a hug as soon as he sees your tear-streaked face.

"i'm okay. i just really need a hug right now," you manage to warble out, and dongmin's arms just get tighter around your shoulders. you try to come down, steadying your breathing as you try to keep fresh tears from falling down your cheeks when a knock sounds at the door.

"it's me," donghyun says and you want to curse him out. you want to tell him to leave you alone. that you didn't want to talk to him and that you wanted him to stop judging you and your choices. instead, you lean over, breaking away from dongmin, to click open the bathroom door.

"i'm so sorry," he says softly and you shake your head, giving him a mirthless smile.

"i've just been super high-tension for the past couple of days with all of the submissions and i just - i just kinda fell apart. sorry you had to see that."

donghyun steps forward, and dongmin steps back, letting go of where his arm was resting on your shoulder.

"i didn't mean to make you feel bad, y/n. i was just worried about you. i know what it's like to feel that kind of pressure and i just hated to see one of my...friends in that level of stress," he continues, glancing at dongmin when he says the word friend, and dongmin steps around you in the tiny bathroom to reach the door.

"i'm gonna leave you two alone. don't do anything i would do," he warns with a stupid grin and despite the situation, you find yourself laughing, threatening to throw the toothpaste at him.

"he's so dumb," you say under your breath and donghyun watches you carefully.

"he's a good friend," he remarks and you nod, pulling at the toilet paper to wipe your tears away.

"he's the best friend i could ever ask for," you agree and donghyun's expression doesn't change but his demeanor grows a little more hesitant.

"we all thought you guys were gonna start dating, you know. i mean, he's the one person who stuck by you through everything," he confesses and you immediately shake your head, the very thought of it making you want to gag.

"dongmin and i? no way. he's my best friend but i could never see him as my boyfriend. we're more like siblings than any sort of romantic relation; i'd fax his soul directly to satan if he asked me for my fries but i'd give my kidney to him," you explain and donghyun relaxes a bit, leaning against the wall behind him as he watches you clean yourself up.

"he hasn't talked to you about how much stress you're putting on yourself?"

"i'm doing fine, donghyun. i really do appreciate that you have my best interests in mind but dongmin's the one who's been there for every single step i've made. if he doesn't think that there's an extreme cause for concern, no offense, but i really don't see why you do."

donghyun has nothing to say to that, and although he probably should, he doesn't feel hurt at all. you were right. donghyun knew you as an outsider, compared to dongmin and even sanghyeok, and didn't know how much stress (or lack thereof) there really was in your life.

but he couldn't explain why he was so worried or why he missed your old troublemaking tendencies so much. or why he missed your strange ideas of a good time or unnecessary dialogues during movie nights. he couldn't explain why he missed the heat of your body on cold nights or why he replayed that fateful night in his mind over and over again.

this was the first movie night that you'd been to in a while from donghyun's knowledge but what did he know? he was only at this movie night because dongmin invited the old freshman/sophomore year gang to start their friday movie nights tradition once more instead of them just being sanghyeok, you, and dongmin.

so when you slip past him, not only does donghyun find himself at a loss for words, but he also finds himself more confused than he had been before your conversation.

at least he could figure it (whatever it was) at jaehyun's party tomorrow.

+++

the one redeeming factor of your attendance of jaehyun's party in exchange for dongmin's sexcapades, in your opinion, was that it was not in fact hosted in a musty basement.

jaehyun had taken it upon himself to host his party in the penthouse of his apartment (rich people had the strangest ways of spending their money), which was definitely a step up from what you were expected.

unfortunately, the sheer number of people in that party who were present, on top of the number of people who were surprised at your presence was more than a little bit overwhelming.

you'd forgotten just how loud these parties got, and if you weren't already over the legal drinking age, you'd be extremely worried about being caught dead near this many drunk people.

not that you hadn't done your fair share of illegal consumption of ethanol but that was something you chose not to dwell upon.

"Y/N! I'M SO HAPPY YOU'RE HERE! I MISSED YOU SO MUCH SINCE YESTERDAY!" you hear someone scream over the obnoxiously loud music, and immediately, your vision goes black as jaehyun bearhugs you, clearly too drunk to be fully present in the situation at hand.

"jaehyun! happy birthday!" you manage to squeak out, hitting dongmin in the arm to pry jaehyun off of you. you'd convinced dongmin to stick with you the whole time during the party in exchange for you actually showing up and he'd declared that he'd serve as your bodyguard during jaehyun's party for times like these.

"alright bud, i don't think she's ever gonna come back to a party if you squeeze her to death," dongmin warns jaehyun, peeling the energetic boy off of you. jaehyun pouts, not looking unlike his dog (the cutest golden retriever named juno) as he shakes his head stubbornly.

"no! she has to come back! she's so much fun! she's the life of the party!" he exclaims, searching through the throng of people for a cup of whatever nasty concoction you were sure sungho had come up with.

you should've known better than to come to this party, you lament. any of jaehyun's parties always turned into ragers from the absolutely insane number of people that he knew.

but soon enough, jaehyun is shoving a cup into your hand, the suspicious liquid in it sloshing around dangerously as he teeters backward into a tall figure.

"careful, dude. you don't want to end up in the emergency room on your birthday again," the figure says, catching jaehyun's body in his arm.

you internally groan. donghyun.

"ugh no. i hated going to the emergency room last year for my birthday," jaehyun whines with a strong tone of sheer pout staining his words.

"that's what i thought. where's sungho?" donghyun asks, and you figure that sungho must've been put on jaehyun duty for the night, as the man was a total lightweight and was known for endangering himself more than anyone else whenever he had a single drop of alcohol in his system.

"sungho! OH MY GOD SUNGHO!" jaehyun yells, slipping out of donghyun's grasp in search of his more than likely tired friend.

"that guy needs a girlfriend," dongmin sighs and you roll your eyes.

"why? so some poor girl can get tasked with dealing with jaehyun's mess every time he gets drunk?"

"nah. every time jaehyun gets a girlfriend, he turns into such a clean drunk it's crazy. i think he subconsciously feels bad that his girlfriend has to take care of him so he does it on purpose," donghyun explains and you hum, examining the substance in your cup with a critical eye.

you never knew that jaehyun had had a girlfriend. or more than one girlfriend at that. you were pretty close with jaehyun once upon a time. why hadn't he told you when he started dating someone? had you really become that out of touch with your friends?

all because you decided that you didn't want to party anymore?

no. that wasn't it. your friends weren't people like that. it was probably because you declined every single invitation that they'd extended to you to hang out with them.

a guilty weight settles in your chest as you start thinking about just how many times your friends had invited you to do things with them over the past year and a half. in the moment, you'd always had something that you needed to do. something to submit, something to do for extra credit, something to do to get better grades.

but now that you looked back on the past year and a half, you could only remember the events they'd invited you to, and just a handful of truly important assignments you'd needed to submit.

"you don't need to drink that," donghyun says, extending his hand for you to deposit the drink into. dongmin looks between you and donghyun, confused by the sudden offer. donghyun never went black knight for anyone else - much less women he wasn't all that close to.

even when you were a well integrated member of their friend group, you had never been particularly close to donghyun, from what dongmin remembered. the two of you were close enough to embark on drunken adventures separate from the group maybe once or twice but definitely not close enough to mention those adventures to dongmin in explicit detail.

not close enough for donghyun to drink a drink for you.

it's clear that you think the same thing (for different reason, however) when you lift the cup to your lips, staring at donghyun straight in the eyes as you tip your head back, drinking all of the contents of the cup in one straight go.

donghyun smirks, watching you drink the whole cup, aware that you were proving a point to him.

you don't need to keep trying to worry for me. i can handle myself.

the message is clear in your eyes as you lock eyes with him, wiping the excess liquid on your lips with the back of your hand, the challenge explicit in the way you look at him.

"too much pride is no good for you," donghyun quips and you roll your eyes.

"it's not pride. i just know that i can handle my alcohol. i don't need you to worry about me or worry about whether i can or not," you retort. "you worry about me when i study too much. you worry about me when i party. when are you not worried about me donghyun? why are you even so worried in the first place?"

"because we used to be good friends," donghyun counters but his argument isn't all that strong, by the way his voice wavers when you step a step too close to him - so close that he can smell the cinnamon of your perfume.

"were we? we were friends, sure. but were we good friends, donghyun? we just went out together. we hung out with the group but we weren't all that close. not...not until... not close enough for you to be suddenly popping back into my life with advice that i don't need and i didn't ask for!" you can't help but raise your voice, searching blindly for dongmin's arm and dragging him with you, chest heaving in anger as you storm away from donghyun.

"what the hell?" dongmin is left to ponder. "has the alcohol already kicked in?"

+++

"don't talk to me right now," you seethed, pushing at donghyun's chest as you walked faster towards the rest of your friends, somewhere further up the street, laughing and shoving each other.

"i don't even know what i did!" donghyun exclaimed, using those stupidly long legs so that he was walking backwards, face to face with you. "why are you so fucking mad at me?"

"you seriously don't know?" you yelled, and you saw dongmin turn around to see what was taking the two of you so long, unaware of the bomb he'd dropped, but he's turned back around just as fast by sungho, who had an extremely drunk jaehyun on his back and clearly needed dongmin's help carrying their lightweight friend who was a heavyweight in body weight when drunk.

"i seriously don't know!" donghyun repeated, his arms flying up to show you how frustrated he was. of course he didn't know. there was no way that he could know just how upset you were with his perfection. of course dongmin had to mention that donghyun had a 4.0 gpa. of course he could come out every night with you and your friends and still maintain that gpa.

of course he didn't have to worry about whether he would even get a job in the future because he'd failed a class or two. of course he could go out every night. of course he could drink his weight in alcohol and still function the next day. of course he could get any girl he wanted just by looking at them for a second too long.

"i hate you," you whispered, almost as if the words had escaped the dark recesses of your mind against your own will.

"what?" donghyun asked incredulously, swooping down to catch the noxious words falling from your painted lips.

"i said, i hate you." your eyes were fierce, shining with a dangerous light that donghyun had never expected from you and had never seen before. you looked like the picture of peril, a knife poised at his throat, threatening to draw blood.

it was an emotion that was so raw that donghyun found himself leaning even closer, absolutely intoxicated by the reckless way that you refuse to hide the challenge in your eyes.

"are you guys coming or what?" sanghyeok call out from where the rest of your friends were, some ten yards ahead of you. donghyun waved him off, his stare never leaving yours.

"we're going back to my place. i've gotta show y/n something," donghyun yelled back and you can't help the sneer that draws upon your lips and if donghyun weren't beyond turned on, he was sure that he would find it a little concerning.

it wasn't everyday, after all, that one of your good friends mentions that she despises you. especially not a good friend that you found incredibly attractive.

the rest of them turned back around, leaving you and donghyun to simmer in this strange energy. competition, charged with something else much more primal - anger and lust.

the entire walk to donghyun's place is silent. it was just a five minute walk from where you'd split from your friends but those five minutes feel excruciating as you feel a dark sense of excitement sit deep in your core, making you feel split in two directions.

the first direction was much more logical: you were jealous of donghyun's ability to handle it all and you wanted to just yell at him and scream until your throat went hoarse.

the second direction was stronger and much less logical: you were incredibly drawn to donghyun and you wanted him to fuck your throat until it went hoarse.

same end goal, but different ways of pursuit.

the second direction ends up winning out when you found yourself pressed up against donghyun's door the second you step out of the elevator and into his studio apartment, donghyun walking you backwards so that you shut the door with the movement.

his lips stayed tantalizingly close to yours as he reached up to lock the door, his hand falling down so that it was cupping your cheek and his eyes search yours, looking for any sign of discomfort.

"look, are you going to fuck me or not?" you whispered harshly and he barks out a laugh, his other hand moving from where it was resting by his side to caress your waist.

"you've got so much anger in you, y/n. what did i do for you to hate me so much?"

"does it matter? i'm telling you to fuck me. either i leave without a heart to heart and you can jerk yourself off or i leave without a heart to heart but you cum inside a pussy tonight instead of your hand," you bit back.

donghyun's breath was shallow as he assessed you, making sure that you were in the right mind and could make decisions for yourself. if you really knew what you were asking for.

the thought of it pissed you off.

"i just don't know if this is a good idea," he admitted and you straightened up, hand reaching next to you to turn the doorknob. you didn't need someone who was going to be so apprehensive. so now you weren't even good enough to fuck?

"i'm leaving then," you said donghyun's hand immediately covered your own, pulling it back and over his shoulder so that one of your hands was resting at the nape of his neck.

you circled the other one to link your arms around his neck, forcing him to bend even further so that he was eye level with you now, lips so close that he can practically taste the flavor of your lip gloss.

"do you want me to leave donghyun? do you think this a bad idea?" you asked, purposefully letting the venom of all of your emotions drip into your voice. you're being unfair, you knew that, but it doesn't matter. it doesn't matter when he was so close and yet so far from you and you couldn't even think straight.

"fuck you." his voice ghosted over your lips, and the two of you stayed like that for a moment, equally proud and unwilling to be the one to give in and kiss in the other.

but donghyun's patience clearly wasn’t as strong as your ego when his lips pressed against yours, too gentle for your taste. you wrapped your arms a little tighter around him, letting him rest his hands low on your back, still too careful.

"i said i hated you and this is the best retaliation you've got?" you whispered, and it's like a switch turns on in donghyun's brain. his hands leave their position on your back to cup your cheeks harshly, tilting your head up so he could kiss you deeper.

you sigh against his lips, a smirk tugging at your own as you finally achieve the level of animosity you were looking for. you didn't want to have sex with donghyun. you didn't want to make love with him.

you wanted to be fucked. ruined. unable to think straight.

which was why you let him kiss you stupid, your lips swollen from the force of his own. it was as though the two of you were inseparable; his hands roamed your body freely, claiming every square inch of it for himself.

he tugged you forward harshly, lips never detaching from yours, hands reaching lower and lower until they finally settled on your ass, and you couldn't help the shallow gasp that left your mouth when he squeezed experimentally, a cocky grin melting into your kiss when he hears the soft noise.

he turned the two of you so that you were walking backwards as donghyun walked you into his bedroom, finally pulling away when your knees buckled as they hit the bed, making you fall backwards onto it.

he didn't even give you a moment to think as his lips descended on you once more, even more insistent and rough than before as he let you slip his leather jacket off his body.

his lips left yours, descending further down your body until they reached the hem of your strapless top, leaving wet kisses and blooming bruises in a heady rush.

"y/n, you have to tell me if you want me to stop." donghyun's voice came out strained and you knew that he was exercising every bit of self control to keep from fucking you stupid.

unfortunately, that was exactly what you wanted from him.

"donghyun. i'm not going to say it again. fuck me stupid."

that was all he needed before he was practically ripping at your top, pulling it off of you harshly before diving in to suck hickeys down your chest, unbuttoning your jeans at the same time.

he tugged them off in one motion, leaving you in nothing but a bandeau bra and your underwear.

"thought you were gonna get lucky tonight?" he asked with an eyebrow raised as he looked at your panties - which were fortunately, and unfortunately, the sexiest ones that you owned. lacy and thin and everything.

"yeah. thought i was gonna finally fuck sunghoon park again. that man knows how to fuck a girl into the headboard," you retorted and you could tell that you'd gotten under your skin by the way that he reached forward to pull at the strap of your panties, letting the elastic snap against your waist with a painful sting.

"you're such a little brat. you need someone to fuck that attitude out of you. didn't know you had such a fucking dirty mouth on you," donghyun growls, and you would've come up with some equally as brutal response when donghyun pulled his shirt over his head with one hand.

you'd seen donghyun shirtless before. multiple times, honestly, with the number of times dongmin tries to pull you guys into random bodies of water whenever he got drunk. but seeing him in that moment felt like your blood was made of lava that was coursing through your body, rushing to settle in your core.

"you're so pretty but you're so bitchy sometimes, you know that?" donghyun taunted, hovering over you so that his gold necklace hit the bridge of his nose as he leaned over, pushing you up the bed so that your head hit the pillows.

"heard someone was gonna fuck the attitude out of me?"

donghyun smiled a wolfish smile, and pulled your underwear down, almost painfully slow as he watched you squirm, clearly unhappy with his pace.

he threw them behind him somewhere that you knew you were going to have to search for in the morning but it didn't matter in that moment.

no. all that mattered was that donghyun's lips were on your core, licking an experimental stripe, grinning proudly when he saw you shiver. he dove back in, enthused by the groans leaving your lips.

his lips were unrelenting, his tongue darting out to dip into your pussy, leaving you at his mercy. your hands reached out to tug on donghyun's hair insistently, incredibly overwhelmed by just how good he was making you feel.

"fuck. pull harder," he groaned, his hot breath fanning over your pussy, causing goosebumps to run up your spine.

you giggle, a sound that sounds out of place in such a situation, but you didn't care and obliged, pulling on his hair even harder. he groaned, leaning in to eat you out with even more vigor, his hands on your clit and rubbing at it in just the right motion. you'd laugh at his conflict if you weren't otherwise preoccupied with the hot ball of pleasure growing in your core.

donghyun watched you carefully as he pulled away, instead replacing his tongue with just one finger, waiting to see if you'd show any signs of discomfort. when you didn't, he moved his finger in and out slowly, adding another when he noticed you started to get impatient with his ministrations.

"trust me, there's nothing i want to do more than to fuck you dumb. but i can't do that if i can't be convinced that i'm not to break you in half with my cock," he whispered.

"i don't think you're big enough for that," you snarked back and donghyun just offered you a shit-eating grin and added another finger, watching for any sign that you might tap out. holy fuck. was he actually that fucking big?

he picked up the pace, fucking you faster and rougher, his fingers slipping out for just a moment as he adjusted himself so that he was laying next to you before continuing again at an even more brutal pace.

"fuck!" you can't help but yelp, one of your hands finding one of donghyun's, as his fingers move at almost mind-numbing speeds.

"i told you someone needed to fuck the attitude out of you. now look what you've done to yourself," he crowed almost condescendingly. if you weren't so blinded by the sheer pleasure of his fingers, you'd probably cuss him out.

"fuck, fuck, fuck! fuck donghyun i think i'm gonna cum!" you cried out.donghyun simply nodded at you, and you took that as a sign to cum. but just as you start to feel yourself topple over the edge of the cliff you were standing on into the pit of pleasure, donghyun rips your pleasure away from you.

he pulled his fingers out of your pussy, watching you squirm and convulse as your hips bucked pathetically, searching for some way to taste the pleasure you were so close to attaining.

"baby doll, you should've known better than to assume that i'd let you cum for the first time on my fingers rather than my cock," donghyun preened mockingly, kicking his own jeans off in the same motion as his briefs.

"fuck you, donghyun." it was all you managed to conjure up through your tears as you tried to catch your breath, only to have to wind knocked out of you once more when you caught sight of donghyun's cock.

"oh hell no, that's not going inside my pussy," you gasped, and donghyun smiled despite himself, and ran his fingers over your hair gently.

"it's big but that's why i prepped you so much, isn't it?" his tone makes it clear that there's no real question in his words. you were the one who'd said you wanted to be fucked stupid. donghyun was the one to make good on that wish.

"just go slow," you grumbled and donghyun nodded, lining up at your entrance carefully.

"can't promise that i'll go slow for too long - fuck!" donghyun cut himself off as he slipped the tip of his dick into your hot core and immediately, both of you let out a groan.

if just his tip was enough to make you feel a stretch after he ate you out and fingered you, you had no idea how you were going to fit the rest of him inside you.

if just the entrance of your pussy was enough to have donghyun's head spinning, he had no idea how he was going to fit the rest of him inside you without immediately coming.

he slid in slowly, forearms resting on either side of your face for stability, that stupid gold chain smacking you in the face with his every slight movement.

it would feel degrading if you weren't turned on beyond belief, you were pretty sure.

"god," you let out softly and donghyun couldn't help but agree as he sheathed himself completely inside you. if donghyun would be allowed to see the pearly gates of heaven, he was vaguely sure that it would feel a lot like this.

"tell me when i can move," he grit out, exercising his self-control to the fullest he's ever had to.

"you can move," you whimpered, equally close to losing your mind.

he pulled out so that just the tip was in your pussy before snapping his hips forward, knocking the breath out of you with the motion. he continued that agonizingly slow  until both of you got fed up, and finally picked up the pace.

"your pussy is perfect, you know that?" he growled, fucking into you with fluid and quick motions that make you feel as though you've established permanent residence on cloud nine.

"you're not too bad yourself," you huffed out and a short breath leaves donghyun as his movements grow harsher.

"clearly i'm not doing a good job of fucking you stupid if you can respond to me," he said.

he made good on his promise that night, fucking into you deep and rough until you both came in a symphony of moans, chests heaving as he collapsed next to you, utterly spent.

maybe if you'd said something other than what you did in that moment, things wouldn't have turned out this way. but the reality was that it was those words that ultimately dug you into your grave.

you finally spoke some ten minutes later, when your brain wasn't so fuzzy you didn't know where to pick words from.

"i wish you weren't so fucking perfect, donghyun. i just can't...just forget this happened. please. it's not like we're going to get into a relationship because of this. and i don't want to face our friends right now. so just forget any of this happened."

you'd gathered your clothes and dashed out of his apartment, the buzz from earlier in the night completely gone, along with any chance of donghyun ever figuring out why from that day onwards, you'd started completely avoiding your friends and your past, running towards a future you so desperately wanted to grasp, even if you didn't know how to.

and as he fell back against his sheets, facing the ceiling, donghyun realized just one thing: something in you had changed. but was it for the better or for the worse?

+++

dongmin lets out a low whistle, followed by a crinkle of his nose.

"you could've let out the explicit details, you know," he bemoans, pressing his hands over his ears, as though he could reverse time and delete the story you'd revealed to him from his mind by doing so.

"you said you wanted to the whole truth on why i was being so bitchy to dongmin," you point out and dongmin inclines his head towards you, pulling his knees a little closer to his chest.

"you were kinda unnecessarily bitchy, though, you have to admit. but what i really asked was why donghyun decided to go all black knight on you, to which i still haven't received a proper explanation.," dongmin corrects and you shrug, accepting the packet of gummy bears that dongmin had produced from his back pocket.

in freshman year, you'd become infamous for chasing your shots of vodka (the only alcohol you chose to drink, other than whiskey) with candy and ever since then, at least one of your friends would always carry a packet of some sort of sweet candy on them for you.

"you brought gummy bears for me?" you ask, touched as you rip the packet open, the perfect level of fuzziness buzzing through your head.

"sungho brought gummy bears for you," dongmin says softly and you look at him surprisedly. "when i told him you were coming to jaehyun's party, he told me that he needed to be prepared. they all miss hanging out with you and going out with you, you know."

"they miss hanging out with who i used to be. i don't think that they'd want to hang out with me now," you snort and dongmin immediately slaps your knee, shaking his head.

"you've gotta stop doing that."

"doing what?"

"doing the whole 'woe is me' act when you just grew up. we all grew up, y/n. maybe you haven't seen it because you've been so busy in your own world, trying to make up for the past but we've all grown up right besides you," dongmin rants, getting up from where he was sitting on your balcony, starting to pace back and forth.

"when you pulled away from us, you know how confused we all were? it was like one day, you were laughing and making jokes with us and the next day, you suddenly hated us. you stopped coming to our hangouts, stopped initiating plans, fuck, you didn't even come to sungho's birthday last year!

"we thought that we did something to piss you off. we interrogated donghyun for weeks but he was just as confused as the rest of us. and then i realized just how lonely you were by yourself. you think i didn't notice how you'd watch us hangout in the library without you? about how you left that stupid neck pillow for sanghyeok when you saw him staying up late studying? or when you paid for jaehyun's coffee when you knew he was having a bad day?

"i was the only one who saw all that. so when everyone asked me when i didn't drop you like you dropped us, i didn't know how to explain that you didn't drop us, but you were just going the wrong way about chasing after your future. i didn't want to out you and make you feel as though you needed to stop taking care of everyone behind their backs because i still wanted you to be with us.

"we all cared about you so much. that's why i've been here the whole time. i've been the only one in front of you but the same way that you've been taking care of everyone else, everyone has been taking care of you. who do you think lends me his car whenever i need to come to your place because you're having a bad day and need a shoulder to cry on? sanghyeok. who always keeps the pantry stocked with your favorite snacks in case you might come around one day? sungho.

"who always points out clothing whenever we go shopping and says 'y/n would love this shirt!', just to get upset when he realized you weren't there to respond? jaehyun. who would always nudge me to go and check on you because he was worried that you were putting too much stress on yourself? donghyun. even jihyo and jayoon ask about you and keep asking us if maybe you'd come over more often since there were more girls hanging out with us now.

"i'm not telling you all this because i want you to feel bad. i just needed to tell you because we've all been caring about you this whole time but you've just never let us in, when we've been knocking at the door, just waiting for you to finally open the door. and you just won't because you're so scared of coming back to us!" his chest is heaving at the end of his rant and you can't help it, leaping to your feet as you let your voice grow louder and louder, scratchy with emotion.

"i am scared dongmin! i'm so fucking scared, i can't even think straight! i miss all of you so much and i'm so scared that i'll fall into the trap of loving you all so much that that's all i spend my time doing and i'll neglect all of the hard work i've been putting in for so long to reverse the mistakes of my past!" you scream and dongmin steps even closer, clearly not backing down from this fight.

"and what kind of future are you going to have when you turn around and see that we've all moved on without you? i can't fucking move on without you because you're like my sister; i can't imagine a life without you but what about everyone else? how long do you think everyone's gonna be waiting for you?"

"i didn't ask them to wait for me!" you shout and dongmin runs his hand through his hair frustratedly, turning so that you wouldn't see the anger on his face.

"BUT THEY DID! THEY ALL DID! they all waited for you because they - we all love you, you stubborn piece of shit! all you had to do was tell us you were feeling this way! all you had to fucking do was talk to us and ask for help. but you pushed us away when you needed us most and now look!" dongmin points at the empty space around you, forcing himself to overlook your watery eyes. "look at who's here besides me? you know jaehyun would've wrapped you in a hug, that sungho would've immediately offered to study with you. that sanghyeok would've stayed up with you, even if he didn't need to. that i would sneak food into the library with you! that donghyun would literally sit down and tutor you if you needed him to."

he swallows when you finally break down, sobs wracking your body as your fists clench into balls at your sides, stubbornly refusing to take the one step you would need to for dongmin to wrap you into a safe hug, like the ones that jaehyun always gave you.

but it's okay, because dongmin takes that step for you, wrapping you in a tight hug that makes you finally feel like you can take a breath through the tears that feel like are choking you from inside out.

"i just wanted to be good enough for all of you. i wanted to come back when i was good enough and i thought i could be someone everyone wanted to be around if i was good enough," you sob and dongmin can feel his heart break as his embrace grows tighter.

"you're good enough the way that you are, y/n. you know how much you've inspired everyone? i've even started studying for tests the day before the test, instead of the hour before!" dongmin exclaims, feeling a little more relaxed when he hears you laugh through your sobs.

"that's not much better," you warble and dongmin just shrugs, never letting go of you.

"it's better than the hour before the test."

"dongmin? for the record, i don't think that i'm the only one who grew up. i know that everyone grew up. i just..."

"i know."

"i wish you were my actual brother."

"if i was your actual brother, i probably would've spit on you by now."

"what the hell."

+++

you wait nervously in dongmin's room as you hear people begin to file into the apartment, a jumble of familiar voices as jihyo and jaehyun begin bickering once again about something or another.

it was just a matter of time before the two of them started dating, you figured.

dongmin was betting on three weeks and you were betting on three months. something about the slow-burn of it all was appealing to you. dongmin insisted that fanfiction was just rotting your brain.

you let out a breath of air and dongmin flicks you on the side of your head, and you fix him with a mean glare as you rub the spot that he'd hit.

"they're just your friends, y/n. you don't need to be that nervous. you've been looking forward to this all week," he reminds you and you just nod, still rubbing the spot.

after the emotional conversation/argument with dongmin last week, you'd asked to come to the next movie night, wanting to start spending more time with your friends. and although you knew that it wouldn't be the exact same as it once was, it would never be and that was a good thing.

balance was a good thing.

"dongmin? where are you, motherfucker? i can't believe you made me buy you three different types of sour gummies, fatass!" you hear sanghyeok yell from the other room and dongmin takes this as his cue to drag you into the room with him.

"i only wanted one type. y/n wanted the other two. still wanna call me a fatass?"

dongmin doesn't get an answer to his question because no sooner has he said the words do jihyo and jaehyun bound over to you (not looking too much unlike juno) and wrapping you into nearly bone-crushing hugs.

"dongmin told us that you were going to be more available to hang out with us more and more and these two - " sungho cuts himself off to grab jaehyun by the scruff and jihyo by the collar of her shirt. " - have been a little too excited since he said so."

"we've missed you so much!" jihyo exclaims.

"you saw her last week," jaehyun mutters, groaning when jihyo smacks him upside the head.

"so did you but that didn't stop you either, now did it?"

"you're such a little bi - "

"alright. let's stop while we're ahead and just be happy that y/n's back with us, how about that?" dongmin proposes, the voice of reason for once in his life. jihyo and jaehyun exchange a dirty look (albeit, a very childish one) before the two of them sit down, leaving just you and dongmin standing awkwardly, as though you were about to give a presentation.

"uh. thanks for having me back guys. i kinda don't know what to say other than the fact that i'm sorry for leaving so abruptly. i struggled with hanging out with you guys and balancing a good gpa on top of that so i made some really stupid choices but i promise that i won't hide those stupid choices from you guys anymore. i just - i've just really missed you guys." your little speech clearly moves more than one person to tears but before jaehyun can try to deliver death by hug once more, sanghyeok claps his hands, pulling up some streaming platform or another on the television.

"thanks for that touching speech, y/n. now if you could get the fuck out of the way, we need to vote on a movie. your vote only counts as half a vote since you've missed more than two movie nights but you're welcome to rally for full membership after attendance of two more movie nights," sanghyeok announces and you roll your eyes, before looking for a spot.

dongmin's caught up in some conversation about that girl from your class with jayoon (undoubtedly doing some background research; as if he could find out anything that would make him actually keep it in his pants) and everyone else's spot is taken, leaving just an empty space next to donghyun.

i'm a big girl. i don't need to sit next to dongmin for everything. donghyun is still your friend at the end of the day. that you fucked. and was the last time that you had sex. and was also the best sex you'd ever had. but just a friend! haha. just a friend.

not the best dialogue to be running through one's mind during their re-debut into civil society (read: friend group) but you manage to divert your mind before it delves into dangerous territory.

"we're still friends," donghyun murmurs from beside you and you turn, despite your common sense telling you otherwise, to see him looking at you with the most genuine and twinkly eyes that you have to swallow and force yourself to turn once more to face the television set.

"yeah. friends," you repeat, softer than he'd said it and you can feel his stupidly sweet gaze on the side of your face.

+++

spending more time with your friends was nothing like how you thought it would be. for starters, it turned out that your friends themselves didn't have too much time to use as expendable time to just fuck around, like you used to in freshman year.

as juniors and seniors, most of your friends were occupied with their classes and their work, as opposed to the lighter coursework in earlier years. on top of that, many of them were either in relationships or were pursuing someone (or many someones, in dongmin's case) so there was more time eaten up by that as well.

but the time that all of you did spend together was much more domestic. equally as chaotic, as you'd discovered when you'd gone grocery shopping with just jaehyun and jihyo and no adult supervision from sungho (who'd trusted you to be the adult supervision), but less shenanigans than before.

instead of finding street signs to steal off the road to stash in dorm rooms, the friendship that had developed between your friends had gotten much more real, and there were more nights that you can count where at least one of you was staying up late to finish something so the rest of you were stuck helping them.

even staying up late to finish projects was more comforting with the presence of your friends, though, and you were so grateful that you'd come back to them. that they'd accepted you with open arms.

you'd had conversations with each of them one on one at some point or another, detailing why you'd left them so abruptly and asking for forgiveness but more often than not, you'd just gotten scolded for ever thinking that they wouldn't give you a chance to explain yourself.

"you were such a good friend to us for so long," sanghyeok had said. "you don't think we would just drop you when you're going through a rough patch, right?"

of course, that had led to another round of tears (which jayoon witnessed and went ham on sanghyeok for making you cry, which made you cry even harder because god, what country had sanghyeok saved for such an amazing girlfriend) but that was besides the point.

in fact, you'd made amends with pretty much everyone except for donghyun. you could see him waiting for you - waiting for you to reach out to him and explain yourself like you'd done so with everyone else, but for some reason, you just couldn't.

partly out of guilt, but also partly out of shame. you just couldn't help but avoid him.

it was easy to do so when it was all of you, since you could always rely on dongmin and sanghyeok to keep your attention otherwise occupied. but when it was just the two of you, after everyone has left the library to do things other than study for their innumerable tests, you can always feel the apology bubbling in your chest, threatening to break free.

but it never does. it never does and you know you're going to regret it.

you didn't have romantic feelings for donghyun, no. but he was someone that you could develop romantic feelings for and someone like that didn't deserve to think that you just hated him for no reason. because just going off of what had happened last year, donghyun really had no reason to think that you felt any emotion towards him other than hatred. and your actions prior to making amends with your friends didn't do much to dissuade that thought either.

which is why you didn't understand why he was still treating you with so much kindness. you were fairly sure that he wasn't head over heels in love with you or anything (especially since he's also had a good many girlfriends ever since your encounter) but you also couldn't come up with any other reason for his understanding.

he'd been the first one out of everyone to come and actually talk to you, four months ago in that study room, even at the risk of you pushing him away once more. he was the one that was most likely to be pushed away and he still looked after you, cared for you, and worried for you.

"you don't have feelings for me, do you?" you blurt out, immediately slapping a palm over your own mouth. donghyun looks up from the tablet his taking notes on with furrowed eyebrows.

"what?" he asks incredulously and you furiously shake your head, looking rather comical with your hand still covering your mouth.

"nothing. forget i said anything." you wince as you look back down at your book, ensuring that the references lined up with direct quotations as you mentally bash yourself. stupid, stupid, stupid. so you won't say that you're sorry but you'll do this? just be grateful no one else is here to see this catastrophe.

"i don't have feelings for you," he clarifies and you nod, unable to meet his eyes. of course he didn't have feelings for you. that would be so dumb. when you didn't have feelings for him, why should he have feelings for you? right?

so why did your heart just feel the tiniest bit tight in your chest?

"i don't have feelings for you but i used to search for you in every single party. even before we...we did whatever we did that night. i used to always look for you first. and i always used feel so happy just looking at you smile," he says. you look up, confused by his statement now. donghyun's looking right at you with those horribly confusing, glittery eyes and you feel your breath catch in your throat for a split second.

"what?"

"i said i don't have feelings for you. but when you pulled away from all of us, i just couldn't help but think if i did something wrong. if i did something to push you away. and i realized that i would rather have you hate me, i would rather have you push me away every time i come close, or even use me to vent your stress however you need rather than have you walk away once and for all," he continues and you feel that same tightness in your chest as he speaks, heat rising up your spine as it sits uncomfortably in your cheeks.

"i just wish you'd stayed that night. i could've convinced you to tell me all your fears and all your worries and i could've just gotten rid of them for you instead of you holding onto them for so long in your own mind," he finishes and you sit there in silence, unable to piece together any thoughts.

"so, uh, you don't have any feelings for me?" you confirm and donghyun rolls his eyes, and for just a split-second you see the dangerous glint that you remember from that night.

"you're an english lit major and you can't tell that i'm telling you that i have feelings for you?" donghyun teases and you just stare at him dumbly.

"i thought you said that you didn't have feelings?"

"and you said that you hated me."

"i don't hate you."

"i know."

and that's all the confirmation you need to spring forward from your seat, pressing a kiss to donghyun's lips. just as soft and as perfect as you'd remembered.

he reaches forward to cup your cheek, molding his lips against yours gently as you try to pour every single emotion you can into a single kiss.

"i don't hate you," you whisper, leaning your forehead against his, still standing up somewhat awkwardly due to the desk in between the two of you.

"i know," he repeats. "and i know that you don't feel the same way as i do. not as strongly as i do, at least. and i just want you to know that i'll wait."

"you'll wait for me?" you assure and donghyun nods, his hand reaching up to pat your head gently.

"i'll wait for you to take me back as a friend first and then we can figure out the rest."

"what if i'm never ready to put a label on our relationship?"

"then i'll just be here with you. i don't need a label for my feelings."

+++

it's not perfect. for all his perfection, donghyun kim had heaps of flaws. he was surprisingly 'needy' and felt anxious when you weren't with him for extended periods of time.

and when jaehyun, sanghyeok, and sungho graduated, you realized that it extended to far more than just you. for someone so stoic and poised, it turned out that donghyun was extremely soft-hearted and could care for nothing more than to have his loved ones around him for as long as he could hold onto them for.

it proved to be a little difficult, given that after your departure from your friend group, you'd gotten used to a certain level of independence and affinity for your own personal space that donghyun just didn't understand sometimes. but the two of you worked on it, because you loved each other even as just friends too much to not work on it.

there'd been points where you were sure that the two of you would just have to be friends and move on with life because of how hard it all was. you could never let go of donghyun fully; all of you were just too great of friends to ever be able to keep out of each other's lives completely.

but all's well that ends well, and you and donghyun learned to work through those issues. your affinity for running away when things got rough and donghyun's tendency to latch on harder every time you guys faced an issue was something that took months of serious discussion and communication to get through.

dongmin was the mediator more than once whenever the two of you got into arguments (you exploding at donghyun and donghyun just sitting quietly, making you even more upset before the two of you calmed down and worked things out) and it helped to have him around.

the one good thing was that your relationship, however imperfect it was, spurred dongmin to start to settle down and look for a girlfriend himself.

much to your happiness, and dongmin's chagrin, there weren't many girls on campus willing to date someone with such a reputation but that just meant that dongmin put in more effort to convince them that he was a changed man.

it was a good look on him, you'd told donghyun one day. dongmin suited having someone in his life that he had to work to please and someone who liked him regardless of his clumsy attempts at love and cared for him fully.

the three (four, when dongmin met his girlfriend) of you stuck together throughout the rest of college. there were still uncountable numbers of allnighters trying to make sure that you were maintaining your grades but it turns out, you could balance both having fun and being academically strong.

you could spend time with your friends and your boyfriend without having to worry about whether you'd be able to secure a job after college because of your gpa. it was nice, not feeling like there was a huge demon breathing down your neck every time you needed to sit down and study.

it'd taken you a long time to get there, but like all good things, with the help of your loved ones and with some self-work, you developed a healthy relationship with studying and a work-life balance.

oh! and you did end up getting a job. your dream job. right out of college. everyone had been so proud, just like you knew they'd be.

and just like that, years had passed by in the blink of an eye.

the five of you made it a point to reunite at least twice a year, since most of you were in the same country (other than sanghyeok and jayoon, who'd relocated back to south korea to take care of their parents after they got married). even five to six years later, when all of you were reaching the end of your twenties and entering the next phase of life, nothing changed.

"JAEHYUN MYUNG, IF YOU DON'T GIVE ME BACK THE TV REMOTE!" jihyo screams from downstairs, and you hear loud footsteps as jaehyun undoubtedly keeps the remote withheld from her.

"i can't believe they're the parents to two children," you snort, blowing on your nails to dry them quicker.

"i can. all that fighting energy has to go somewhere," donghyun retorts and you roll your eyes. he had a point.

"you've got a point. we've been on vacation for three days and they're already in their fourth argument. well. i guess it's just flirting to them," you contemplate, extending your hand to examine your handiwork.

"you thought that fighting was flirting back in college too," donghyun reminds you and you shake your head, looking at donghyun. and just like usual, he's already looking at you, head tucked into his fist as he lies on the bed that the two of you had slept in together for the past five years (vacation was hosted by your family this year).

"it clearly worked on you," you fire back and donghyun smiles a giddy smile.

"you're my weakness. anything you give me works on me," he says in a lovestruck voice and the laugh that escapes you is a real, full-bellied one.

"god. you're such a dork; i love you so much," you sigh, getting up and walking over to where he's lying, climbing onto the bed to wrap your arms around him.

"yeah? wanna channel our energy into making a few babies?" he teases with a greasy tone of voice and squiggly eyebrows.

"you're incorrigible."

"you love it."

"i love it," you agree, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss to his lips. you'd liked the darker sides of donghyun and there would always be a side of you that got giddy whenever you saw that side of him.

but you'd always love this more. soft, reassuring, and unconditional love. from him to you and you to him. neither of you needed perfection. you just needed each other. husband and wife. you didn't need those labels, and you'd believed donghyun when he said that he didn't need them for his love either. but it was nice, having everyone know that you had each other for life.

"ARE YOU WHORES COMING OR NOT? WE'RE GONNA START WATCHING WITHOUT YOU!" dongmin yells from downstairs, and you can vaguely hear his fiancée slapping him on the chest and knowing her, she was definitely telling him to shut up and let the two of you make her a niece or nephew.

you laugh, grabbing your husband's hand and leading him downstairs to plop down next to your friends. someone shoves a bucket of popcorn into your arms and you realize how grateful you were for all of the people in your life.

and how glad you were that you'd decided to forge a new path for yourself with your loved ones and with your newfound confidence in yourself.

love and life are always easier with friends and family, after all.

[respectthepetty]

scared of your thoughts on fk - i think they confuse their friends & each other - feels so intricate

You asked about one specific pair, but . . .

You opened a floodgate!

I already wrote that I like fan service; therefore, I like First and Khaotung's special brand of teary-eyed fan service. However, I also wrote that JoongDunk are my GMMTV favorites because Joong is always hyping up his homies, and Dunk stays Pretty Boy Petty.

So I'm excited to see all four promote The Heart Killers when the show is ready to be released since I think it'll be a hoot watching First and Khaotung call each other best friends with tears in their eyes while Joong sits next to them commenting on how banging Dunk's body is and Dunk openly agreeing that his body is, in fact, banging. Joong and Dunk are always firing shots at First x Khaotung for no good ass reason, so I'm thrilled they will get to do it to First and Khaotung's faces for an extended period of time.

Because to me, most fan service is good since it allows people to see people of the same sex casually being affectionate with each other without the belief that it should be shameful or hidden, so give me all the styles of GMMTV fan service! Give me Force x Book's eighty year friendship, Pond x Phuwin's nerdy fashion model energy, Earth x Mix's marriage and divorce era, Tay x New's fist fights over dessert, Off x Gun's evolution of skinship, Jimmy x Sea's intellectual companionship, Gemini x Forth's "fuck it, we ball' attitude, and all the other 31 Flavors of Branded Pairs the BL world has to offer us.

Because I really do not care what these men do or do not do or if it is real or not. What bothers me is these companies (not just GMMTV) encourage this behavior, then when fans get toxic, the companies leave the actors to deal with the fallout. I also don't like that out actors aren't as well protected and even straight actors and their girlfriends are targeted by fans, which only encourages queer actors to stay closeted while delivering a queer performance and for straight actors to feed into this mind fuckery by being in a pseudo-monogamous relationship with their acting partner which is an extension of our heteronormative societies and their belief that affection can only be reserved for one person.

So my thoughts on First and Khaotung are irrelevant because I'm going to like all these pairs regardless of what they give me. Max and Tul were as open as possible about Max having a girlfriend and Tul being gay, yet that in no way influenced how I enjoyed their fan service. Yin and War have stated several times that what they do is their job, and I'm still clapping every time War chokes Yin. And as much as I truly believe Mos and Bank are married, if they came out today and said they actually hate each other and cannot stand the sight of each other, I'd be proud at their acting skills all these years because I have faked liking my coworkers for a lot less money.

As a Catholic and a slut, I think there is a great sociological study here about how branded pairs help with queer representation regardless if the people in the pairs are queer or not, yet how the pairs must still fit into a digestible frame of traditional (hetero) relationships with affection only being given to one person forever and ever until death (or their contracts) do them part.

So First and Khaotung aren't the only ones confusing people because this entire setup is confusing. They aren't creating some intricate strategy but these companies are. These actors are just out here telling their homies they look cute and going on (hopefully) company-sponsored trips. And if they like it, I love it.

Because I've been pretending to like Karen from Finance for years when I can't stand that bitch, yet I still have a job that pays my bills, so "get it how you live it."

And make it a little queer along the way.

[leavingsunsets]

Hi, Sen! I have a fanfic request here (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠) Psst- Senku and Fem!Reader please

The set is an alternate universe where no mass-petrification ever happened. Instead shs Senku meets a new member (first year) of the science club, where she's passionately into nuclear and stuff (you could add any). The reader here's pretty shy and afraid of men but when it comes to Senku.. yk, love and simp, secret crush 🥺‼️I've had to mention it earlier tho, please make this fic fluff and cute 🩷

Thank you for your time, mind, and whatever it takes to make this fic. And please stay healthy 🩷

omg thank you for the request !!! like the scenario, and reader concept, and will do for cute and fluffy themes!! thanks thanks for the hearts !!!

"𝖲𝖼𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖻 𝖻𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌."

[𝚏!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 & 𝚂𝚎𝚗𝚔𝚞 𝙸𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚒]

Your first meeting wasn't much to talk about, other than the fact that Senku's pinned you as a little oddball. He still remembers your head just barely peeking into the empty room, flinching the moment you spotted him.

"Do you, uh, happen to know where the science club president is...?" A timid type, he sees. "That would be me. Anything you need?"

"Oh, uh, just my form."

"Ah, the membership form," pulling off his gloves, he approaches. When you hand it over, his eyes skim over it. "Ah, a junior." He folds the paper, smirking. "Well aren't you eager. Weren't these just passed out today?"

A little tense, you rub your arm. "Ah, yeah. I just, wanted to get a spot, I guess."

He assumed you would've been a more quiet member, working off on the side with your own little experiments. Which, you were, at first. Tinkering with microscope and the like.

"Radiation?" he queries, which makes you jolt. You hadn't noticed him. Following his gaze, you see that he's checking out your notes.

"Uhm, yes. It's just for my research..." you mumble, pulling away from the microscope.

"I see. Into atomics, ey?" Chuckling, he turns to walk back to his own project. "School materials aren't quality enough for that kind of science, junior."

You rub your arm. "Well... I'm only studying about it now.. I'm not ready for experimenting until I know everything about it."

His lips quirked slightly, "Smart. Good plan."

Since then, he's always been aware of that constant student by the club room's window. In her own world, barely talking if unneeded. Of course, Senku wasn't dumb. Based on his observance, you've always been stiff around him, or the guys who even so much as breathe near you. Odd behavior, but it doesn't hinder you, or others, so, he leaves it alone.

When you started approaching him more, he didn't mind.

"Senior, since you know more about this, I wanted to ask if you could teach me...?"

"Senior, here, I'll help."

"Senior, I just wanted to ask if I could conduct this experiment in the lab?"

It wasn't really anything strange for him. In fact, he thought it was great improvement. He encouraged it, even.

And so, here you were, clutching the wrapped bento in your sweaty hands. It was just you and him again, with the others so eager the moment the bell rang.

"I'm going for a drink," he breaks the silence, taking off his safety gear. At this, you jump for the chance.

"Wa- Senior, wait!"

He pauses, looking at you. "Hm?"

With the weight of his eyes on you, your heart beats a little faster in nervousness. This was nervewracking, you were starting to regret it a little. However...

'Come on. It's now or never. You know how busy he always is.'

"I notice you usually spend lunch in the clubroom... So..."

You hold it out to him, shakily. Too nervous, you look elsewhere, too scared to look at his face.

It was quiet. For a little while. But every second for you felt like an eternity.

Senku chuckles. Caught off guard, you look up.

"You got a crush on me or something, junior?" he jests, running a hand through his hair. And you, simply, erupt into a vivid scarlet.

"N-No!" You fluster, gesturing wildly. "I just, I thought you'd want some lunch, cuz I see you everydayandmaybeyou-"

"Calm down, it was just a question."

You hang your head once more in embarrassment.

"But," he says,

"I appreciate it."

His smile is soft, and voice placid, all of a sudden. The light from the window only highlights it, only giving the empty room a bright glow. This felt like some kind of shoujo moment.

It shocked you a little. Knowing his personality, you expected obvious discomfort, maybe even a harsh rejection. You're snapped out of your thoughts when he's already turned for the door, bento taken.

Your eyes linger on the door that slides close.

Yeah. Maybe you do have a crush on him.

[themuselesswriter]

Alastor Headcanons

Early years

Alastor was an awkward kid who had hard time making friends, he was a center of school bullying

His father worked in the military line, he was extremely strict and abusive towards him and his mother, he disliked Alastor's behavior so he made him his daily target

Alastor was a mama's boy, she taught him to be creative and imaginative, she taught him to be kind and showed him how to have good manners

He often got hit by his father because he was trying to protect his mother

When Alastor was 17, his father got into a heated argument with his mother, he was almost going to kill her but Alastor stepped in, protected his mother and killed his father in the process

He had a mental breakdown and it broke him completely, his mother packed him a bag and told him to leave their little town and never come back

He used the funds and what his father left him to get himself into a good college, he originally planned on studying biology but he always found interest in multimedia, theater, journalism and such

He met his very first girlfriend, Jenny, on his second year at the university ( Jenny headcanons here) and he fell in love so hard, to the point that he poured his heart out for her and let his guards down, she knew everything there's to know about him, she helped him and supported him, made him move on from everything he's been through, she encouraged him to pursue a career as a radio host

After her murder, he tracked down her murderer and made sure to avenge her death in the most gruesome way by killing everyone they loved and leaving them to be the last

He moved on to another city and started a fresh

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

Marriage

He met his wife at a book store, they were both reaching out for the same book so he decided to let her have it on the condition that she gives it to him once she's done

She was beautiful, had some characteristics that reminded him of both of his mother and his beautiful, spontaneous, carefree Jenny, which made her the perfect partner for him

He fell in love with what she represented more than her at the beginning, afterwards, he proposed, and their marriage went by smoothly

He never told her of his past, although she knew he loved his mother and that he used to be close with her, hearing about her death devastated him, especially since his mother requested he doesn't visit her on her death bed to protect him

He never told her of his sexuality, that he was asexual, but she noticed something was wrong, that's why she never insisted on any sexual advances

Alastor always sheltered his wife and only showed her his good side, in his head, if he showed her how much of a monster he was, she would get hurt, just like his mother, just like his Jenny

She learned about his murders when one day, he returned home very late, she was crying because she thought he was killed but he was exhausted and he just burst that he was the murderer

She tired to live a normal life but then, they gave up and decided to move to a secluded area in the woods, he was taking a walk after a fight with his wife in the woods to calm down and that's where he was shot, mistaken for a deer

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

Hell Days

Vox was his very personal fanboy, he was swooning over him, but Alastor was clueless, he barely navigated women, let alone men, so when Vox asked him to join him, he thought he meant in the Vees tower, he declined respectfully, not knowing that Vox was really asking him out

He first met Rosie when he arrived at hell and everyone was dismissing him, he bumped into him and he was still processing everything, hating his looks, missing his mother, Jenny and his wife, she felt bad for him and she helped him navigate hell, and ever since, they've been best friends, she noticed him as a nervous, awkward guy who can easily feel uncomfortable so she did her best to understand his ticks and make him feel as comfortable as possible

He hates feeling inferior and dismissed as it was something people usually did back when he was alive, that's why he had to be the star of every show, the most powerful, the smartest, the funniest, the most helpful, he had to have everyone's attention and admiration or else he feels threatened and unseen

He fought against Sir Pentious and Cherri Bomb a few times but he never killed them because they validated him and didn't disregard him, he saw them as worthy opponents, therefore, their battles were built on mutual respect even if they wouldn't say the exact words to each other

He thinks of Nifty as a friendly companion rather than a soul he owns because she doesn't judge his crazy but indulges it, he respects Husk as a soul that he owns but Husk questions him, so their dynamic is complicated

(more to be added)

[suguru-getos]

| Brat in her place | Ayato Kamisato x f!reader |

-> Been a while, I miss Waka 🤭 and I had so much fun writing this little prompt! Warnings: ruined orgasm, edging, he eventually decides to let you cum again tho kekeek.

“If the cunning rabbit burrows thrice, what of the cunning human?” You remember Ayato saying this to you once, when you asked if he has other— cards up his sleeve apart from the Shumatsuban. Being the high lady of the Kamisato clan, the wife of the head has it’s own highs and lows. Ayato was always kind to you, except when he’s not. That’s a rare predicament but you don’t mind it, infact— your behavior sometimes encourages it.

“Ah, Thoma! Your cooking is exquisite as always.” You beamed at the lunch table, having luncheon with Ayato and yourself. Ayato didn’t mind it, you were right of course. “I wonder if I could keep you all to myself.” This sentence, caused the housekeeper to flush hard, while irked Ayato’s reaction too. “Why of course, he is— kept by me.” Ayato corrected you, while you clicked your tongue, knowing you managed to get the territorial man exactly where you wanted him to be.

“Yes, of course Waka.” You nodded, sipping another slurp of the radish mixed veg soup and half-moaning at how your tastebuds danced with the aroma & delicacy. Granted you wouldn’t be this bold if it wasn’t only Ayato and Thoma in the room.

Thoma beamed with a cheerful grin, trying hard to ignore the way Ayato’s body language had changed from a welcoming to a commanding one. Oh boy— he felt as if he was in a Retainer meeting. Not good—“I’m glad you liked it, my lady. If you’d excuse me now, I have something to take care of.” Thoma bowed and left, making sure you don’t get a chance to stop him. If anything— both of the men knew you were in a mood today. A fiesty mood.

“Quite bold of you, to be so thorough with the sounds your little mouth makes when you enjoy something.” Ayato remarked, clicking his tongue and glancing towards you. “You jealous?” You bit back, maybe biting off more than you can chew.

“Me? Jealous? Well—” Ayato sounded almost surprised, a grave chuckle escaping his tight knit brows. “No, darling. I’m not jealous over your antics. I know completely these are nothing but parlor tricks to get my attention.” Ayato shrugged, taking a sip of the radish veggie soup. “No one can please you as good as me after all.” There he was— the spoiled, bratty Yashiro Commissoner in the flesh.

“Maybe I could, make it up to you… remind you how good my touch feels in every little crevice of your dainty little body. Or— maybe I could remind you of your manners, hmm?” Ayato’s fingers tilted your chin up, ensuring your eyes met his. Siren, glazed with flames of lust and dominance.

You gulped, evading eye contact at the statement. You could almost feel dizzy at the intensity with which Ayato was handling this. Fuck— you were clamping around nothing.

One thing led to another, Ayato asked if you’d like to be reminded of something— you agreed & now you were sitting pretty on his lap, legs spread and locked with his own in the way, back pressed snugly against his clothed chest and his heavy breaths sending jolts down your spine. Ayato had worn his gloves back, you know he does that when he’s in a mood to punish you, to put you back in your place. To remind you who you belong to.

He’s been at it for hours, lazily rubbing and strumming at your swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves while leaning his hand away as soon as he sees you cumming. You know Ayato is determined because he’s not left for his study since the lunch. You’ve been reduced to a babbling mess. “Yato— Please, please— s’ too much.” You wiggled against him, like a tied up bunny.

“Hmm, I know. It is too much for me to see you brat up so bad.” He hummed, sighing at the shell of your ear. His hot breath fanning over the earlobe just right, just enough to rise you to the apex of pleasure while he takes it all down. Leaves you tumbling down to nothing; then rakes it all up again.

“Yato— please- Waka Sama! Please!” You whimpered, feeling the pain in your clit getting used to the rigorous edging. It was then, that your body betrayed you, a mind melting orgasm coursing through every nerve ending as you whimpered, leaning your head back against his chest and rutting your hips for more—

Ayato leaned his hand back, again—

Cruel…

“Ah, going to have to ruin this one. Sorry, my love. You must know better than to ask for permission from your husband, who owns you, who takes care of you, who—” you were sobbing now, irritated at the pleasure seeping through your fingers and whimpering for more.

“Who puts you in your place.” Ayato completed his sentence, kissing your cheek and leaving you be. “Please— please I wanna cum. Yato— I’ll be good, so good for you.” Now you were truly begging, truly submitting to him like he wanted.

“Oh I’m not sure about that, you see— my wife is a force to reckon with. Even I know she can’t simply follow orders—”

“Yato— Please.” You quaked, lips quivering as you glanced up at him like a kicked puppy.

“Fine, I’m not that cruel now. At least, not to my one and only.” Ayato took off his gloves, a sign he’s pleased and this is all over. A sign of intimacy as his fingers raked their way through your over-edged cunt. “But remember— good girls.”

“A-ask for permission.” You gasped out, completing his sentence.

“That’s a good girl.”

[dissociative-misinfo]

"If you really had DID, you wouldn't know!"

Says who?!

The idea that people with dissociative identity disorder (DID) can't be aware of their symptoms until they're diagnosed... This is a huge myth about DID and similar experiences; one that has been debunked again and again by experts. Yet it remains! Here are a few examples of this misconception being spread around online: source.

People with DID can be, and often are, aware of their DID symptoms before ever speaking to a clinician.

Where is the proof? Khan (2024) states that, while it's normal for dissociative people to not realize the full extent of their symptoms, trauma, or alters, they can still become aware of any of these things at any point. Source. Dell (2006) actually considers the awareness of alters before diagnosis to be a "common occurrence in DID" which has been widely documented in studies. Multiple diagnostic screening tools inquire about awareness of alters for this reason. Source.

Additionally, alters can have varying degrees of awareness of each other and their symptoms. To quote Howell (2011) from her book, on pages 3-4: Source.

"Different dissociative parts may or may not have knowledge of the affects, behaviors, histories, motives, and thoughts of other parts. How coconscious patients are also varies—that is, the extent to which they have knowledge of and are privy to the thoughts, history, and affairs of the other parts varies. Often, the part of the self that is in executive control is unaware of the thoughts and activities of other parts (often called one-way amnesia). However, this is a tricky topic to try to make clear. For example, coconsciousness may be minimal before beginning psychotherapy for DID but tends to increase considerably in the course of appropriate psychotherapeutic work. Although parts other than the part who is most often in executive control (often called the “host”) are more likely to know of each other and of the host, this is not always the case and is not always the same for different parts of the same patient. Some parts may be unknown by many of the others. The dissociative structure of each patient is different."

Even in the case someone has no memory of their symptoms, they can be made aware through external evidence such as finding purchases or notes that other alters made, police reports confirming traumatic events, someone pointing out their dissociation, etc.

Now let’s talk about something that I feel goes frequently unrecognized: becoming aware of symptoms is often a positive thing! For many people, recognizing their own symptoms is the first step to seeking help for them. As mental health awareness and access to useful information increases, we will likely see an uptick in people with DID developing more awareness of their symptoms and getting help sooner. That’s incredibly positive!

Finally, a small note about diagnosis... Diagnosis is its own loaded topic for a different day. However, I want to point out that people diagnosed with DID still had the DID before their diagnosis. The symptoms were still there, whether they were aware of it or not.

Furthermore, not everyone with DID can obtain a diagnosis or even wants one. There are a myriad of potential reasons for that and I encourage you to do your own research on it. These articles can be a good starting point: source, source, source.

Thanks for reading!