#the worst one is the last because it hurts me the most personally

[faggot-vampire-dies-epicly]

Respite

Summary: After a really bad argument with your brother Mike, you are left feeling distraught after both of you said things you shouldn't have. As you're struggling to come to terms with what happened, you find comfort in the person you least expected. | Words: 4.225K. Requested by @xxinmyfnafworldxx.

Warnings: Mentions of child disappearance. Mentions of poverty. Cursing, miscommunication, hurt/comfort, family drama, family issues, unresolved romantic tension. Smoking. A bit of an age gap, since Reader is younger than Mike and Vanessa. Fem!Schmidt!Reader.

A/N: Okay, yeah, I know this took long but I was busy, sorry. School is beating my ass, my cousin got into a car accident and a stray dog bit me in the leg. It may not have the same quality as the last one, but I did put in a lot of effort, and I do like how this turned out, so I hope you guys like it too.

Main Masterlist | Vanessa Masterlist | AO3

Nebraska, 1987.

“During autumn, Nebraska is colder than at home. So don’t take off your sweater.”

That was the first thing your dad said when he helped you get out of the car.

Garrett and Mike were already playing tag around the campsite. You chuckled and ran after them, following them into the woods.

That night, at the police station, as you sat beside the only sibling you had left now, you realized your dad was right. Nebraska was indeed colder than Hurricane.

November, 2000.

The past months had been rough.

With Max’s disappearance, you had no choice but to quit your job and stay home to look after Abby while Mike was at work.

After all, Mike had an accident (that he didn’t want to tell you anything about) which caused him to lose another job, which meant even more cost-cutting since he couldn’t keep one job for too long, nor get a high-paying one.

Abby had been there with him the night of the “accident” and she didn’t want to say a thing about it either.

It was driving you insane.

At least things with Aunt Jane had gotten better. But that only was because you had found her passed out in the living room the same night Mike had been injured, and she never came back to bother you and your siblings ever since.

So currently, you were struggling financially, like you always did. 

Mike always got the worst of it.

The smallest portion at dinner, the cheapest clothes, the most worn-out shoes.

You lived in a perpetual state of worrying about him. He would just give you a tired smile, and say, “It’s alright.”

You knew it wasn’t.

Everything changed after Mike lost his job at that old restaurant.

Mike and Abby’s relationship had been magically fixed, or at least that’s how it felt. 

She wasn’t shutting both of you out anymore, and Mike had become more calm and understanding.

There was also Vanessa, the police girl who had stayed a couple of weeks at your house. She was Abby and Mike’s friend and had also been involved in whatever happened in that old place.

Mike had let her stay in the house while recovering from whatever injury she had suffered.

She had slept on the couch. Sometimes you would go to the kitchen for water in the middle of the night, and you would find her awake, looking through the window.

Vanessa never talked much, at least not with you, she seemed to like Mike more. But you would still stay with her until she whispered goodnight and slipped under the blankets.

Sometimes, you would stay even after she had fallen asleep. You were the only one who could wake her from her nightmares after all.

Then she had moved out and you barely saw her. Sometimes she would drop Abby off from school, or Mike would invite her to dinner.

Vanessa was… fine. 

It’s not that you didn’t like her. 

No. 

You liked her very much.

But you didn’t have time to acknowledge what that meant. Much less let her know.

 Not that you were thinking of actually doing it.

After all, it seemed like everyone's life was improving, except for yours.

You still couldn’t go to college like you wanted to, since there were no babysitters around to look out for your little sister.

Mike was still jumping from job to job, getting paid barely enough to help with the mortgage and the basic groceries. And you couldn’t help with that either, since nobody wanted to hire you just for the part-time, and even if they wanted to, Mike wouldn’t approve of it.

And even worse, you couldn’t even go out to make friends, because, even if your older brother had changed, he was still as overbearing and overprotective with you.

You were sure that if you went to look at the meaning of overzealous on the library computers, his name would be the first thing to come up.

It always drove you nuts.

Even if you were young, you were already an adult. You didn’t need him to always keep an eye on you.

You understood it was just a trauma response. You really did.

You were there the day Garrett was kidnapped, after all. You recalled the horrified look on Mike’s face as they were interrogating him. His cheeks were tear-stained, his eyes red-rimmed, and he was so pale anyone could have mistaken him as a ghost.

You could remember him saying, “I just looked away for a second. I swear it was just a second,” to your parents' sorrowful faces over and over again.

Still, it didn’t mean you had to suffer such consequences. You wanted to live a normal life, as normal as you could, regardless of what had happened.

Abby sighed profoundly and shifted on her seat, frowning at her drawing. 

You were in the kitchen, making dinner, and close enough to her to notice her discontent, so you pushed the salad you just finished aside and looked at her.

“What’s wrong, Abz?”

She made a face, meeting your gaze. “My friend from school invited me to have a sleepover tonight, but Mike won’t let me go.”

You frowned. When did this kid make friends at school?

And why were you just finding out about it?

“Well, uh,” you trailed off. “Did he give you a reason? Like, is he going to stay late at work tonight?”

Abby shook her head, looking back at her drawing, and put the crayon she was holding down on the table.

Just then, as if you had summoned him, Mike opened the door and stepped into the house.

Abby and you turned to look at him as he took out his jacket, and stepped out of his shoes.

He smiled at Abby, first, ruffling her hair, and looked at her drawing.

“That’s a good one,” he murmured, looking at Abby. He then turned to look at you.

“What’s with that face?” Mike asked casually.

“Abby told me something interesting,” you said, focusing on the salad again.

Mike hummed, peeking into the pots on the stove, and checked what you were cooking. “What did she say?”

You huffed, setting the salad to the side again.

“Well, first of all,” you turned to look at him. “I have just been made aware that she has a friend in school.”

Mike chuckled softly, leaving the pots alone to face you. “Ah, yes. It’s true, she has a school friend.”

You huffed, frustrated. Did neither of them feel like this was important information? After all the time Abby had struggled to make real friends?

“And also,” you continued, “her friend invited her to a sleepover, and you didn’t allow it.”

Mike sighed, already tired from the conversation. “Yes, that’s true, too.”

“So, why can’t she go?” You crossed your arms.

Mike shrugged. “It's not safe for her.”

You scoffed. “You're unbelievable. It's just a sleepover. What's the worst that could happen? Kids consuming too much sugar? She asking her friend's mom to call you because she misses her room? ”

Mike huffed, shaking his head, and tried to walk away from the conversation.

You followed him across the hall and into his room.

“Come on, Mike. What's the worst that could happen? Seriously.”

Mike sighed, turning to face you while he tossed away his tie. “I don't know – I mean, we don't know these people. God knows what strange habits–”

“Are you hearing yourself?” you said, disbelief clear in your voice. “You’re accusing people you don’t know of being,” you gestured with your hands, “weirdos, just because you’re afraid of letting Abby out of your sight!”

Mike rolled his eyes, scoffing. “I'm not afraid, I'm just being careful! It's my job as an older brother–”

“You won't have control over her all her life. You know that, right?” You argued back. “She might be a kid right now but she’ll keep on growing and things will get out of hand, Mike.”

The conversion was turning into a whole-blown argument. You knew you shouldn't press Mike's buttons further, but it was too late to care about that.

“Y/N,” he said in a warning tone. “Don't start this again.”

You scoffed, “Start what, exactly?”

“You know what. I'm not in the mood to argue.”

“You're never in the mood for anything!” You snapped at him. “All you do is work,” you continued. “Or rather, try to keep your job and watch over us like you're our bodyguard. You are going to asphyxiate us with your intensity.”

“I'm just trying to keep you two safe!”

Your voices were raised so high that Abby could probably hear the discussion from the living room.

“Keep us safe–”

“Oh, please,” he practically mocked. “You know I have reasons!”

Before you could argue back, he continued.

“Abby is a kid. She doesn’t understand the dangers she could be in, and you,” Mike met your gaze, “you think I don't notice how you look at me sometimes? Like I'm ruining your life? Like you hate me?”

You huffed, “I don't hate you! I just– I just want some space, okay?”

Mike scoffed, but you ignored him.

“I want to be able to go out at night, to have a job, and make money not only for us to have something to eat, but to buy things for myself too. I want to stop worrying so much about you!”

You took a long breath, trying to calm down.

“I want a normal life. A normal, relaxing life, Mike. Where I can make friends and go on dates without having to sneak out because you won’t agree.”

“Y/N–” he tried to interrupt.

“No!” you cut him off. “You think I don’t know who I remind you of? You think I don't know that when you look at me, you think of Garrett? You think I don’t hear when you tell Abby I look just like him?”

“That’s not true!” he shook his head, now seemingly hurt. “Look, I'm just trying to look out for you! For you and Abby. I'm your big brother–” he said, exasperated. And that was your last straw.

“We don't need you to protect us! Did you forget what happened the last time you tried to look out for one of us?”

A deafening silence followed. Mike deflated, his words dying in his mouth.

You looked at each other for a second before you realized what had been said.

“Fuck,” you exhaled. “Mike, I'm sorr–”

“Get out.”

“But–” You approached him, and tried to take his hand but he cringed, pulling away.

“Please, just…” he trailed off, not looking at you. “Just leave.”

You looked around, thinking of what to do. 

Something, anything that could change the situation you were in.

But of course, there was nothing to do, at least not until Mike had calmed down.

So you left his room, looked at him one last time, and closed the door.

You stood still outside his door, letting everything sink in. You were still angry, but you also felt guilty.

Using Garrett’s kidnapping as an argument during the discussion was a low blow. If there was a hell, you were fucked.

Running your hands through your hair, you approached the living room.

Abby was still sitting at the dining table, eyes fixated on her now-finished drawing.

“Abby?” you called, softly.

She didn’t react. It was one of those moments when she felt stressed so she wouldn’t acknowledge you– or anyone, for that matter.

You sighed, took your jacket from the coat hanger, and stormed out of the house.

You walked for a while, just following the river.

After a good fifteen minutes, you stopped. It was cold, and your jacket wasn’t warm enough.

You sighed in frustration, kicking rocks into the water, and finally decided to sit on the grass.

“Was it really that serious?” You thought. After all, even if it was annoying, Mike's overprotectiveness had probably saved you from a lot of trouble.

You ripped up handfuls of grass as you stared at the water.

“Yes, it is,” you said out loud. Blaming him for Garrett’s disappearance was shitty, but you knew your anger was justified. Mike couldn’t keep being like this.

Not with you, and not with Abby, either. He needed to understand. To learn.

But how would he understand and learn if you only told him about your frustrations after bottling up and then exploding?

It wasn’t fair to him, either. Mike would just feel like you’re being antagonistic.

Grumbling, you rummaged through your jacket’s pockets. The wind had started to pick up and you needed something to warm up.

You pulled out a cigarette pack and a lighter from the front pocket of your jacket.

You huffed. Mike would kill you if he found out. 

Lighting the cigarette, you took a quick drag and as you put the items away again, you felt something strange in your pocket. 

Frowning, you placed the cigarette between your lips and reached into your pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper.

Humming, you unfolded it without care, not remembering what it was.

You almost choked on the smoke.

It was a drawing from Abby.

She had given it to you a few weeks ago after you picked her up from school.

It was a drawing of you, her, Mike, and a little airplane toy. Garrett's favorite.

“God-fucking-dammit,” you said, putting the cigarette back in between your lips to avoid getting ash on the paper.

“Language,” a voice behind you said, and you jumped, turning around.

Standing there, with her blonde hair swaying slightly in the wind, was Vanessa.

“Great,” you thought.

Out of all the people you could have run into this situation, it had to be her.

You noted was wearing civilian clothes: jeans, a cheap-looking sweater, and a jacket. Her hair was also down. Very different from her usual everyday look.

“That’s bad for your lungs. You know that right?” she said, pointing to the cigarette between your lips.

You grumbled, turning to face the water again, and she took it as an invitation to sit beside you.

“I mean that,” Vanessa said, staring at you.

You took a drag and blew the smoke away from her. “I know.”

She hummed. “Does Mike know?”

You frowned, looking at your shoes while the cigarette slowly burned in your hand.

“There’s a lot of things Mike doesn’t know about me,” you answered, meeting her gaze.

You stared at each other for a moment before she spoke again. “Can I?” She said, pointing to the cig. You handed it to her, and she took a puff from the cig.

You smiled. “I thought you said it’s bad for your lungs. What changed?”

Vanessa rolled her eyes, blowing the smoke. She took another puff, then looked at you.

“Nothing has changed, it’s still bad,” and as she said it, she threw the cigarette into the water.

You gasped. “Hey, those are not cheap!”

It was her turn to smile then. “I know.”

You huffed. “Between this and Mike’s pills, I think you can be considered an environmental terrorist.”

Her smile faltered. “He told you about the pills?”

You nodded slowly, humming. “Mike tells me everything,” you said with a smile.

You paused, your mind returning to the night that he arrived limping and with several superficial wounds and scratches, and with a trembling Abby beside him.

“Almost everything,” you thought out loud.

Vanessa looked at the glistening water. “What makes you say that?”

You scoffed. “Come on. Something happened to him in that old pizzeria, and he won’t speak about it. Neither will Abby.”

You looked at her. She shifted uncomfortably under your gaze.

“And I’m assuming you won’t, either.”

She cleared her throat.

“It’s…” She paused for a moment, thinking of what to say. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just something I shouldn’t be the one to tell you.”

You sighed, looking towards the water again. “Called it.”

You two stayed silent for a moment before you spoke up again. “How did you find me anyway?”

Vanessa sighed, rubbing her forehead with one hand.

“Oh,” you breathed out. “Of course.”

Mike had told her to find you.

“He's your brother, Y/N,” she said softly. “I'm sure he only wants what's best for you.”

You felt a twinge of annoyance.

"Yeah sure..." you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes. "He's always known what's best for me. Like when he convinced me to leave my job so I can stay home and be a housekeeper.”

Vanessa's brows furrowed. “He did?”

You sighed. “It's… more complicated than that, but… that's how it feels.”

A beat passed in silence.

“I know he's doing it because of Garrett,” you murmured. 

“Doing what?” Vanessa asked carefully.

“This. All of this…” You sighed. “Not letting Abby hang out with her new friend, convincing me to stay home and take care of her...”

She watched you intently, waiting for you to continue.

“I can't go out at night, he's constantly barging into our rooms, I can't date anyone,” you sighed, and she seemed to understand, her expression softening.

Slowly, Vanessa reached out to you, putting her hand on your shoulder.

"I understand that Mike can be overprotective at times, I can't deny that,” she said softly. "I know it must suck not being able to go anywhere or do anything without him always checking on you..." she sighs, looking you in the eyes empathetically. "But we both know he just wants to protect you, even if he’s doing it in the wrong way. He loves you dearly.”

You avoid her gaze, your eyes focusing on the grass underneath you.

“It's worse with me.”

“Why do you say that?”

You smile bitterly. “Because apparently, I’m the only one who looks just like Garrett.”

Silence.

“I–” She began but cut herself off.

“I just wish,” you continued, “he could just try to move on. At least now he's aware it wasn't his fault, but,” you took a deep breath. “I feel like he's still stuck trying to be a protector instead of just being our brother.”

Vanessa stayed silent, and you were grateful for that. You didn’t feel like hearing fake reassurances while talking about Garrett or his disappearance.

“Every time we try to talk about it, it just turns into an argument,” you whispered

“And why's that?” Vanessa squeezed your shoulder. You felt your heart flutter at the gesture.

“I guess… because we're both too stubborn to hear each other out,” you chuckled tiredly, running your hands through your hair. 

Vanessa opened her mouth, but you interrupted her.

“I fucked up today,” you turned to face her. “I kind of… blamed him for Garrett's disappearance.” 

Vanessa seemed shocked by this. Then she sucked in her breath between her teeth.

“That's–”

Your expression turned bitter as you felt your face flush in shame. 

“I know, you don't have to tell me.”

You hid your face in your hands. “He seemed so distraught, so hurt, I can't… I can't stop thinking about it.”

You felt your nails dig into your scalp. “I can’t stop thinking about the pain in his eyes, I can’t unsee the way he just… shrank.” 

Carefully, Vanessa rested her hand on your back, and when you didn't protest, she started rubbing small, comforting circles.

You feel a knot form in your throat.

“I…” you swallowed. “I remember it. The day he disappeared.”

A pause.

“I remember it so vividly,” you huffed a self-deprecating laugh. “I sprayed almost the whole bottle of ketchup on my sweater. Mom guided me to the tent so I could change,” a shaky breath slipped from your lips, and you felt her stomach churn.

The dread, the fear you felt that day would never leave your system.

“Next thing we knew, Mike was running and yelling, desperate. You closed your eyes, the memories flooding your mind.

“Mom, Dad! Help, they took him! They took Garrett!”

You stayed with your eyes closed for a few seconds, as Vanessa kept rubbing your back reassuringly.

“Did you know I had a brother?” She began.

“Really?” You asked with surprise in your voice.

“Mhm,” you could hear her smile in her voice, “we used to be really close. He was always looking out for me.”

“What happened to him?”

Her hand stopped. You tensed up.

“He… disappeared. Many years ago. Just like Garrett.”

You pulled slightly at your hair. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…”

“It's okay,” she said in a solemn voice, but with a small, resigned smile on her face.

“Why are you telling me this?” You finally faced her again.

“Because you can never take your family for granted. You shouldn’t say hurtful things to each other, and if it happens, you should let it cool off and then talk about it, not run away.”

Oh, now she was scolding you.

“I didn't–” you cringed. “Mike asked me to–”

She giggled. Giggled.

“I'm not saying it only because of you. Mike needs to understand that you're an adult now, that he won't always be able to protect you.”

Your eyes lit up. “Will you help me, then? Will you talk to him?”

Vanessa shook her head. “No, Y/N. You two need to sit down, talk, and finally start listening to each other.” She gave you a small smile.

You sighed, nodding. 

“Come on,” she said, standing up, shaking the dirt off her jeans, “I'll take you home.”

She extended her hand, and you took it without thinking twice.

Vanessa parked her car in front of your house, sighing softly before turning off the engine.

She looked at you, and after a few seconds, you met her gaze.

“You know,” she smiled, “I’m pretty sure you two can actually come to an agreement.”

You huffed, “That’s easier said than done.”

You pushed the car door open.

“Wait,” she said, holding onto the back of your jacket. You stayed still.

“I mean it, Y/N,” she gave you a soft look. 

“Just talk to him. No yelling, not arguing,” you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, “talk. Really talk…”

You stared at each other momentarily before she let go of your jacket.

“Hear him and… make him hear you,” Vanessa added, a whisper more than anything.

You nodded, climbing out of the car, and closing the door.

She lowered the window. “Good luck, I guess,” she smiled.

You felt your heart speed up. Was this really the end of it? Would she only speak to you when Mike asked her to? So she was just being nice, right?

You swallowed. “Yeah… Well.”

You felt heat rising up your neck, reaching your cheeks. Shame.

“Thanks for the ride, by the way,” you scratched the back of your neck, trying to get rid of the sensation.

“No problem.”

You nodded, and just as you were about to push the front door open, Vanessa called your name and you practically rushed to the car window. “Yes?”

Vanessa let out a breathy laugh and you almost melted on the spot. She opened the glove compartment and took out a notebook and a pen.

She started to write something down. 

“In case you and Mike keep having trouble…” She trailed off as she handed you the paper, which had a phone number written on it. 

You raised your gaze to meet hers. “If it doesn’t work out, you can call me and I can give you some advice,” she grinned at you. 

“And if it does?”

"Maybe we can go for a coffee, then?"

“I don’t like coffee,” you blurted out, feeling your cheeks warm up.

Vanessa's smile grew wider at your reaction and she chuckled softly. "Well, how about tea then? Or maybe we could just go for a walk instead?"

Her tone was playful and her smile was contagious, making it impossible for you to stay embarrassed for long.

You stayed silent, not sure how to respond. All you knew was that it was supposed to be cold outside at this time of the year, but you were sweating.

Vanessa shook her head, still smiling, and her playful tone turned into a sincere one. “We don’t have to if you don’t want–”

“I want to,” you interrupted her. “I do.”

She seemed to perk up. 

“I’ll call,” you said, without a doubt. “I promise.”

Vanessa gave you a soft smile before turning the car on, and slowly drive out of sight.

You sighed, turning to push the door open, and to your surprise, Mike was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, and Abby peeking at you from behind him, smiling.

He met your gaze, and against all odds, he smiled at you. “I guess we need to talk.”

You smiled at him. “Yeah,” you looked down at the small piece of paper in your hands and swallowed. “Yeah. We do.”

Mike sighed, gesturing for you to come inside.

“So you heard all of that?” You said in a weary voice, and Abby giggled.

Mike shook his head. “Maybe we should eat first, I’m about to pass out.”

Right, you still hadn’t had dinner. Your stomach grumbled.

As you followed your brother into the dining room, you had the sensation that maybe, just maybe, things would be alright.

A/N: Reblogs are not only appreciated but also encouraged. Reblogs are what keep the fandom going.

#vanessa shelly x reader #vanessa shelly #schmidt!reader #mike schmidt #abby schmidt #fnaf #fnaf movie #elizabeth lail

[hanzajesthanza]

witcher opinions which irrationally upset and irritate me, and also just show me that people didn’t understand the books:

“geralt is a ps*cho murderer sadist no morality killer and that’s what makes him cool”

“neutrality is always the best course of action”

“dandelion is a bad friend”

“i don’t lke how the series shifts to being about ciri”

“baptism of fire is the worst book” or “the series gets boring when the characters begin to wander”

“the POV switches confuse me, they shouldn’t be there”

“nimue and condwiramurs are boring”

“the arthurian stuff is stupid”

“philippa should have won”

“why would geralt gather that company to help him? wouldn’t it be smarter to gather some professionals?”

“geralt’s company aren’t actually friends, they wouldn’t like each other if they had no quest”

“angoulême was pointless”

“milva bitches too much”

“regis lied to the company and he’s actually not sober”

#ok to reblog if you also think these are misinformed and dumb #i guess this should be on burnfalka but no this is about the books only so it can be here #also virgin jaskier but that doesnt even deserve to be mentioned #shots fired at like every part of the fandom but ok #these are things i will unironically respond to with ‘you just didnt understand sapkowski’s *vision*’ #if youve posted these there’s a 100% chance i’ve complained about it in a private discord server or dm at sometime someplace somewhere #the only time regis is allowed to relapse is stygga. Its Poignant #the worst one is the last because it hurts me the most personally #the penultimate one is just misogynistic and the second-to-last one is just mean #txt

[pierregaslays]

:(

#i literally feel VIOLENTLY ill at the fact the hospital handled my mum’s passing so badly that her funeral is exactly ONE MONTH after it #i’ll forever be furious and angry and hurt and traumatised by the way they handled it #like A MONTH #it should not be happening this long after #and it’s her birthday on sunday so maybe i’m just feeling ten times worse because of that #but it’s not fair #it’s never gonna be fair #why the FUCK did she get taken from me like this #and then having to be the only one who knew about her funeral plans bc she only told me #and then everybody including my dad tells me how strong i am #IM NOT STRONG!!?!!?!??!? #i’m a girl who needs her mama. i’m just a girl who is so lost and confused and needs her mama #i literally want 2 die #tw death #i turned my tv off and immediately started crying bc i felt like the worst person in the world #did i not love her enough #should i have been better to get #*her #idk i just want her to know i adored her #and i need to hear her voice and get a hug #one of the last things she said to me was ‘i love you more’ well i love you most so how about that #tw grief #i am never getting over losing her #please . feel free to let me rant i just feel like i can’t talk to my dad or family bc like idk . #i always talked to my mum about my emotions and well! that can’t happen anymore lmfao 😭 #i just need a place to vent the HELL out of my feelings bc i am not going back to therapy

[bbqhooligan]

"you cant be a self aware asshole you gotta stop being an asshole" by burnham continues to claim assholes who just cant change everything about them, 17 more dead, 32 in critical condition

#mypost #fighting that quote like nothing else. #IM THIS WAY BECAUSE I WAS MADE THIS WAY -> change then asshole become better or die-> THATS VERY CRUEL TO SAY AND I DO TRY LITTLE BY LITTLE #->then stop claiming it as a personality trait or flaw -> IT SEEMS GLARINGLY IMPOSSIBLE TO IGNORE CONTRASTED WITH PEOPLE I MEET -> #everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about -> STATISTICALLY IM THE ONE MORE LIKELY TO BE FIGHTING A BATTLE MOST KNOWS NOTHING ABT #ON THE ACCOUNT OF THE. PERSON I AM AND THE LIFE IVE LIVED -> pain cant be compared and measured. see the human experience as equals. cope #-> YOURE RIGHT WHAT IM LACKING IS A SENSE OF COMMUNITY (impossible for me rn) AND OUTSIDE LOVE AND SUPPORT #-> people get better when theyre given outside love and support. how can we hold it against them when they dont #-> SO WE HANG IN THERE. TRYING NOT TO HOLD IT AGAINST OURSELVES I GUESS #-> yeah. tho. im not sure if im happy saying that because we made the quote unapplicable. to anyone. #-> MAYBE NOT EVERYTHINGS APPLICABLE TO EVERYTHING AND MOST IMPORTANTLY HOLDING IT AGAINST PEOPLE THE BETTERMENT OF THEIR MENTAL HEALTH #AT BEST SADDLES THEM WITH FURTHER INDIVIDUALISTIC GOALS AND THE RESPONSIBILITY OF GETTING BETTER #-WHEN MOST OF THE TIME THE NEED TO GET BETTER IS ALREADY TIED TO A LACK OF SUPPORT- #AND AT WORST FURTHER MARGINALIZES THE PEOPLE PREVIOUSLY MENTIONED TO BE ALREADY LACKING SUPPORT AND LIVING IN DIFFICULT SITUATIONS #-> yeah. but so what. are we part of marginalized groups who should be thought of in an analytical helpful compassionate but ultimately de #detached manner ? or are on the individual level someone who is hurting other people and acting selfishly and a being bad person? #-> BE HONEST W ME WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU HURT ANOTHER PARTY MORE THAN YOU HURT YOURSELF #-> irrelevant. causing myself harm doesnt take away from the pain i inflict #-> OK THEN ANSWER ME THIS ARE YOU OR ARE YOU NOT ON AVERAGE MORE HURTFUL THAN THE EVERYDAY PEOPLE ON THE STREET #-> again irrelevant. what they do or dont do doesnt absolve me or anything #-> BUT IT DOES MAKE YOU STATISTICALLY A BETTER PERSON OR NOT. #-> claiming causing less harm for others in exchange for more harm for youself makes you a better person. do you hear yourself #-> YEAH NO THATS BATSHIT INSANE... WHY DONT YOU GIVE YOURSELF THE GRACE YOU AFFORD EVERYONE ELSE THO #-> they can be thought of in both emotionally divorced and deeply compassionate ways both of which prove theyre eligible #-> BUT YOU CANT BE? NOT EVEN ABSTRACTLY? #<*->.... #-> THE SUN SET WHILE WE WERE TALKING. I CAN BARELY SEE THE KEYBOARD. #*-> you dont need to anymore. i get it #-> YOU SEE? #->i see yeah. lol

[vaspider]

Pete Buttigieg is just a faggot.

It's very important to me that younger queers understand this: to the people who you're trying to be more respectable for when you say things like neopronouns set the trans movement back or you're why the cishets don't accept us or including [aces/bi people with the 'wrong kind' of partners/non-binary people/kinksters/non-passing trans ppl/furries/polyam people] just hurts us, can't you wait until we get all our rights before we talk about some of yours? -- to those people? Pete Buttigieg is just a fag.

On Sunday at Pride Northwest, some kids -- late teens, early 20s -- asked what our button I survived Reagan for this? meant. All of the queer adults at the tables making up our ad hoc counter looked at each other and sighed a little. Emet and another adult started to explain the way that the Reagan Administration handled -- or didn't handle -- the beginning of the AIDS crisis. How many people died. How much we were ignored. The Ashes Action. The Time Magazine article which explicitly blamed bisexual men for passing the pandemic to the cishet community, playing on all the worst stereotypical bullshit. The way that even when the CDC started paying attention, they were so focused on gay men that they ignored AIDS in the lesbian community, leading to the "women don't get AIDS, they just die from it" poster. And so on.

I finished counting out change and passed the last Bear Pride raised fist pin over to a bear a little older than me, then turned my head and interjected, "they didn't care until it started infecting more than just the fags." I turned my head back and handed him his change. He laughed bitterly and said, "remember when they called it 'gay cancer?'"

That what I need you to understand. The people for whom you are folding yourself into smaller and smaller boxes will never see you as anything but a freak. A queer. A dyke. A tranny. A fag.

Never.

These are people who will stand by and let you wither away and die alone, gasping for breath in a cinderblock room, and not even claim your ashes, and they will say you deserve it, because of your lifestyle. If they speak of you at all it will be by the wrong name, with the pictures you hate the most. They will curse at your lover, throw him out of the home you shared, and steal the gift you gave last Christmas to throw it in the trash just so he can't have it and they'll say Jesus loves you! while they do it. They'll feel good and righteous and blessed and holy and pure for doing it.

And for them, you spit in the eye of your sister. For them, you disavow your sibling. For their sake, you trim away bits of your heart and lace yourself up tight. Never too loud. Never too queer. Never inconvenient or embarrassing, never asking for too much.

Pete Buttigieg is what happens when your Boomer dad turns out gay. Middle America. Parents still married. Suburban-sprouted. Valedictorian. Harvard-educated. Rhodes Scholarship. Military service. More power to him: I hope he and Chasten are very happy together. Genuinely, I do.

You couldn't create a more respectable gay if you grew one in a lab run by concerned voter focus groups.

But Pete Buttigieg? Is just a fag.

That's the part you don't seem to get: when they abandoned us, they abandoned all of us. Rock Hudson was a beloved movie star and even personally friendly with that horrid pair of ambitious jackals. Nancy Reagan refused to help him get into the only place in the world that could treat him at the time, and he died.

It was 1985, 4 years after the CDC first released papers on what would eventually become known as HIV/AIDS and 7 years after the first known death from an infection from HIV-2. Reagan hadn't even said the word AIDS by the time Hudson died.

Pete Buttigieg is just a fag, and so am I. Unless I'm a dyke, which seems to depend on who's yelling what from which window and what day it is.

Yes, there will be people who genuinely love and accept you. Those people are worth all the frustration of the rest, thankfully, and they're the ones who love you in a pup mask or a leather harness and a neon jock like the ones sold by the men up the row from us last weekend. They're the ones who laugh out loud when you tell them you hid the word "dyke" in your company name, the ones who love you in all your messiness and uncertainty and the way you don't fit into neat boxes all scrubbed up and clean.

Most cishets, though... well, they don't actively mean you specifically any harm, at least not when they have to look at you. Not when you're right there in front of them. Maybe they'll be okay with you, personally, especially if you're the kind of gay who makes a good rhetorical device, and as long as you remain a good rhetorical device.

They need people to know that they don't have a problem with the gays, after all, and there you are, being all convenient. You make a nice token, and as long as you do, well. You're useful.

But they call you by your deadname when you're not around, and they put the wrong pronouns in your medical record even though they met you years after you came out, and they won't put themselves out to save you. Not one little bit.

I didn't want to be here again. The year I graduated from high school was the worst year of the AIDS crisis. The world into which I became an adult was a world in which an advisor and friend to Reagan, William F. Buckley, openly advocated for forcibly tattooing the HIV status of HIV+ gay men on their buttocks (and IV drug users on their forearms), and in which my father not only told me that when I was 14 or so, but when was told me that he'd advocated for that tattoo being "over their assholes."

(Buckley wrote that in '86, but he doubled down on it in 2005.

Fucker.)

But yeah. I didn't want to be here again. I wanted my daughter to inherit a better world. I wanted Obergefell and Lawrence v. Texas and Hope & Change to really mean something. I work for it, today and all days. I haven't given up.

I need you to know that, too. This isn't a white flag. I'm not surrendering. This isn't over. To misquote Henry Rollins, this is what Marsha and Sylvia and Stormé and Leslie and Brenda and Auntie Sugar trained us for. This is punk rock time.

But I need you to understand that if Pete Buttigieg is just a fag, if that human embodiment of a Wonder Bread, mayo and Oscar Meyer bologna sandwich is not respectable enough for them -- and he's not -- then the rest of us have absolutely no hope of measuring up. Not even if we trim away every colorful, beautiful piece of our community, not even if the Sisters Of Perpetual Indulgence vanish into the ether, not even if we sacrifice the five elements of vogue on the altar of white supremacist cishet middle-class conformity: we can't trim ourselves down to something they'll accept.

The only other option is radical acceptance of our queer selves. The only other option is solidarity. The only other option is for fats and femme queens and drags and kinksters and queers and zine writers and sex workers and furries and addicts and kids and the ones who can look us in the eye and see all of us to say we're here, we're queer, get used to it just the way we did 30 years ago. It's revolutionary, complete and total acceptance of our entire community, not just the ones the cishets can pretend to be comfortable with as long as we don't challenge them too much, or it's conceding the shoreline inch by inch to the rising waters of fascism until we've got nowhere left to stand and some of us start drowning.

That's it. Either it's all of us or it's none of us, because if we leave the answer up to the Reagans of the world and all the people who enabled him in the name of lower taxes and Democrats who wring their hands, weeping oh I don't agree with it but we'll lose the election if we fight it right now, the answer is none of us.

The brunch gays can come, too, I guess.

#long post #uncensored slurs #slurs #homophobic slurs #ronald reagan's grave is a gender neutral toilet #lgbtq #queer #trans #transgender #fag #dyke #lgbt

[0luv9]

can't move on || mattheo riddle

Summary: He was done fucked, a weak man on his knees for her, mad for her, in love with her and funny enough she didn't know. Him sleeping around isn't helping him though.

Beware: angst, fluff (?), minimal plot, smoking, drugs, alcohol, she/her pronouns, second person used as well, miscommunication, misunderstandings, excessive use of swear words, both reader and Mattheo assume the worst, happy ending.

Words: 4.025k

Mattheo Riddle is in deep shit. His feelings have dug him a deep hole, a hole so deep that he could bury himself a hundred times over and still not be anywhere near the surface. He is so in love with you. And you being so fucking oblivious, mistake his advances for him being friendly. It's funny because when has he ever done something friendly? He's not even friendly to his friends, he insults them as a greeting for fucks sake. It's ridiculous how clueless you are, it was endearing at first but now it's just painful for him to watch you go on dates, that too every date with a different guy.

He thinks you've fucked them all, afterall it's him, Mattheo Riddle, he only thinks in extremes, if you've been on a date with some dude, you ofcourse had fucked him because who wouldn't do you. He resorted to the same ways, fucking his frustration out but instead of feeling satisfied, he would feel relieved for a moment and then his frustration would grow more and more, never coming close to being satisfied. He thought he could just fuck it all out, that he could just forget you, that he could just hate you. It became a routine for him, he got rougher and rougher with the girls he slept with, reaching his own high became harder and harder. It was all because of you, 'cause you couldn't see his love and make him a lover.

His reputation was worsening, his grades started slipping, he started ignoring you, becoming angry easily, snapping at anyone and everyone. Fucking girls left and right, every day was the same and he wondered why the hell he couldn't find a solution to all his problems. His smoking habits became worse, one cigarette turned into two, two turned three and now he was smoking one pack a day. His life was fucked, he could no longer think for himself, the thoughts of you with someone else corrupted his mind at all times. Everyone could see him ruining his life, he couldn't care less, he didn't give a shit about the names he was being called, most of them were true anyway.

…

Tonight was like every other Slytherin party night, except for the fact that he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol, all he wanted was a drunk hookup but he had slept with most of the girls in the room and he couldn't bring himself to repeat them over. He sighed, walking off to a secluded balcony, pulling out a cigarette, it was boring, life had become boring.

"Mattheo," he nearly jerked his head in the direction of your voice, it's been so long since he's heard it. All of it coming back to him, all the feelings he was trying to get rid of came right back, knocking at his heart. He's looking for the sweet smile, the one you'd always give him when you'd talk to him but all you did was frown at him, looking at him like the onlookers who gossiped about him and it fucking hurt. "Yes darling," he greeted you like nothing was wrong, before you would've smiled at his cheesy nicknames but now you grimaced at his hoarse voice and stepped back, he quickly looked away, just like that he blew off his last chance, he couldn't face it, he couldn't see you walk away from him, he physically couldn't.

"Riddle-" "Don't, don't call me that," he whispered, it was pathetic, he knows it too but that doesn't stop him, he couldn't hear you call him that. "Mattheo, I am Mattheo," he breathed out like an affirmation to himself, as though reminding himself of the person he's losing, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with his shoe. There it is, he's doing it again, acting how you'd want him to act, you disapproved of his smoking habits, you never told him to stop though, just so you know, he would stop if you only asked but you never did. You never asked anything of him, making the friendship feel one-sided, never wanting to bother him, you didn't do that with your other friends, you were openly asking them for favours albeit small, still favours, that's how friends are, looking out for eachother but no, you never expressed it, he just had to read into it. It made him feel as though he was your friend, just for the name sake, wow- he couldn't even be your friend.

He closed his eyes trying to contain himself, taking a hit from the burning cigarette, his hands were trembling, he was hurt, he could never be with you, you were making it clear. For the first time he got an actual sign of rejection and he just couldn't take it. "Riddle." It was still your voice, coming from his side, he slowly turned, there you were, standing next to him, looking at him with concern, giving him the slightest bit of hope, making his heart pound against his chest. He simply stared at you this time, unable to think of a response because you called him by his last name, you never did that. You didn't speak either, both staring at eachother, him with everything unsaid, sadness, anger, hope, longing, love, every fucking thing while you looked at him with worry painted all over your face. Mattheo hated to have people worry about him, noone was obligated to do so and he didn't want anyone to do it but right now, he didn't seem to mind, your attention was on him, worried about him. You finally looked away, placing your glass on the railing, alcohol with a lollipop in the glass, a typical you thing.

"alright, Mattheo," a small smile was tugging at your lips at his actions, "tell me, what's going on?" He didn't have anything to say, what would he say anyway? Upon not receiving an answer you sighed and continued, "Draco was telling me how different you've been-" he scoffed loudly interrupting you, ofcourse this is what it is, Malfoy sending you to talk to him, to scold him like everyone else, ofcourse you wouldn't come to him on your own, he was so fucking worthless in your eyes. “Don’t do that Mattheo-“ “Yeah? Why not? Coming here to scold me like everyone else, you know what, surprise surprise, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” He was angry, you come to talk to him after all these days and it was to tell him, that he’s bad, that he’s wrong, yes, he started it by ignoring you but you didn’t even make an effort to talk to your “friend” while he was away, it pained him to know that you didn’t even care to check up on him.

“No, I am worried Mattheo, this is not okay for you,” you moved closer, shaking your head trying to find the words, “I tried Mattheo, to catch you, to talk to you but you were always turning away, ignoring me, I couldn’t even get a proper look at you these weeks. Draco was joking about you smoking two a day, one for each girl you slept with, it was then but now, a whole pack a day? I tried to get to you, tried to see what’s been hurting you, but all I saw was your back towards me.” You paused, looking around clearly frustrated, “I thought maybe you didn’t want to talk about it, so I stopped trying but I am sorry, I can’t help myself, I care about you Mattheo and I hate to see you like this,” you looked up at him, hoping he’d understand but he only stared at you blankly, maybe you were wrong to care, he clearly didn’t want to be bothered, you sighed yet again, clearly there was no point, you could only wish for him to be better.

You mustered up all the courage you could, moving closer to the brunette who still hadn’t said a thing, “I am sorry for bothering you, I hope you win whatever battle it is that you are fighting, just know that I care and I can’t help but be worried when you are hurting, sorry if it is selfish that I want you to be better, I won’t disturb you anymore” you gave him a small smile, going up on your tiptoes planting a small kiss on his cheek, lingering for a moment, holding his hand in both of your own giving it a hard squeeze before letting go. It pained you to see that he didn’t seem to care about his own life, making you feel useless for doing the same, he was dear to you, you didn’t want to let go of him but clearly he didn’t want the same, who were you to deny him of anything? So, you let go, taking the moment in before walking away, the tears were ready to fall, you weren’t going to let him see that, you didn’t want him to see how pent up you were over him when he couldn’t even bring himself to care.

Mattheo could feel his chest burn, he could feel the sting in his heart at the sight of you walking away, his knees felt weak, you cared? You tried to reach out? Yes you did, of course you did, you weren’t the ugly person he tried to paint you as, he wanted to hate you so bad, he wanted you to be wrong, he wanted you to scold him, he wanted you to hate him just so he could move on but no, he could never move on from you, even if you spat his way he’d love you. ‘Sorry if it is selfish-’ he fucking wants you to be selfish, he wants you to be selfish about him. Only if he wasn’t busy imagining you with other guys, maybe he would’ve noticed that you smile a bit more around him, just maybe he’d see your eyes looking out for him. Maybe then he would’ve seen the look in your eyes, one similar to his, but he was a fool, he’d always be unworthy of your love, you wouldn’t love someone like him, he ruled that possibility out the very moment he fell in love with you, thereby in his mind even if you actually loved him, you didn’t because he couldn’t see it.

He called after you, he couldn’t see you walk away, not when he has so much to say. You turned around, he saw tears in your eyes, he felt like dying, it was him who made you cry, if he didn't hate himself before, he clearly did right then. With two wide strides he was infront of you, holding your face, wiping away your tears, "please don't walk away from me," he muttered, trying to get you to look up at him, you look up at him with stars in your eyes, taking his breath away, 'I want you so bad' he thinks to himself but it's false, no, he doesn't simply want you, he fucking needs you like the air you take away from him, when you look at him like that- hazy eyed, making him think that you love him but he knows you don't, he knows you don't love the guys you go on dates with, he knows you don't love the guys you sleep with, in his eyes you love to care but don't care to love, he'll be one of those guys, if it means you'll have him, even if it is for one night.

He was staring at you, looking for a sign, waiting for you to push him away but you just look at him with glossy eyes, making him weak, unable to contain himself he presses his lips against yours, you hiss pulling back, the bitter taste of smoke invading your senses, your reaction hurts him, he couldn't even be one of your guys, that's how worthless he is, his grip loosens, he tastes you on his lips, sweet cherry- the lollipop still sugary on your lips. Then you surprise him, fisting his collar, pulling him down, soft lips on his, like honey against his smoke. He loses it then and there, his hand comes up to hold your face, the other low on your back pulling you flush against him. It was heaven, eyes closed, moving in sync, savouring every second, he could feel his skin tingle, his body burn, it was pathetic how you could bring him to feel so much with the simplest of touches, and now you were kissing him, better than any dream or fantasy, it's real, he reminds himself, frowning as he concentrates trying to capture every single detail, of you against him.

Mattheo walks you back to the railings, not letting go of you even for a second. You pull away as the cold metal makes contact with your body, the sting seeping through the thin layer of your clothes. Still impossibly close practically breathing the same air, then the situation dawns upon you, you look up at Mattheo in horror. This is what has become of your love for him, he's using your attraction towards him to get you into bed, just like he did with other girls. There was no difference in their relationship with him and yours with him, evidently so. You loved kissing him but you hated the fact that it meant everything to you but all it was to him was a one night stand, your dignity would not allow it, even though you wanted him so badly. "I'm- I'm sorry but I can't," you quickly walk off, not looking back this was humiliation, you felt embarrassed.

One moment you were there kissing him and the next you were gone, he fucking hates this because he doesn't know what to do or what made you push him away. You gave him hope when you kissed him but shattered it when you walked away, you were confusing him. Why'd you kiss him like that if you wanted to let go? His hands reach out to pull at his hair, "Fuck" he grits out, it was frustrating not knowing what to do, knowing he has done something wrong. But for the most part, he doesn't know how you feel, you kissed him like you felt something but you walked away like it was nothing. He's over it.

…

He's absolutely not over it. He couldn't even stick to the plan for five seconds, images of you in his arms plagued his mind. He could only cherish that moment, he felt more alive in those few seconds than he ever did, his lips are still tingling, it's the next morning and his head is still in clouds. Mattheo for once, feels human- he feels like going to class again just so he could see you. The wound of your rejection was still fresh in his heart but so was the memory of your lips against his in his mind.

He could handle the professors' taunts, he infact muted them out and zeroed in on your face, you were avoiding him, he could see it, trying so hard just like he did the past few weeks. He saw himself in you for a moment but then you started talking to some Hufflepuff dude next to you, smiling at him so pretty, his blood started burning hot when he saw the guy touch you. You did nothing to push him away, pfft- ofcourse he wasn't Mattheo fucking Riddle that you'd push him away.

Mattheo was practically burning holes into you skull as he took a seat in the very back. Only if he wasn't so overtaken by jealousy he'd see that your smile didn't reach your eyes as you laughed at the Puff's joke, that your reactions were simply polite, a mere distraction from the pinching of your heart. You didn't want to be one of the girls he slept with, didn't want to be discarded after being used.

He couldn't even be one of your guys, he fucking wanted it to be him so bad just to have your for a night, just so you could see him in a different light, just so you'd know that he loved you. He'd gladly be discarded by you.

…

Mattheo has been searching for you, for about an hour now, you were minx- rushing out of the class before he could catch upto you. You were no where to be seen, he was actually getting worried. He was just about to enter the dungeons when he saw Pansy near the entrance. She'd know your whereabouts, she was a close friend of yours. She'd help him too, because she was his friend as well, right? Or had he destroyed every relationship he had the past few weeks. "Pans, a moment please" "oh hey Mattheo," she greeted him with a smile, that's a good sign, "umm- do you know where-" there he was, polite stuttering fucktard, "oh I know where she is," He didn't even tell her who he was looking for, confusion taking over his features, "I saw you looking at her in class, you like her don't you?" Was he that obvious? If so, why couldn't she see it? "Yeah," he finally admitted it to someone else, it was out there now, he felt some weight lift off of his shoulders, there was no denying to it, he loved her and he doesn't care if he gets laughed at for it but then his heart stops at her next words. "She's on a date with some Hufflepuff, in Hogsmeade," her voice was sympathetic, hurt was painted all over his face.

They were standing there in awkward silence for a couple of minutes before she broke it, heading towards the entrance, "You know you should tell her," she gave him a small smile, she patted his back ready to slip into the entrance, he stopped her "Why? Did she say something about me?" His voice was full of hope, hoping that maybe she had confessed to her friend just like he did right then but to add onto his sorrow, Pansy shook her head, he let his head hang low, moving his hand over his face, scoffing bitterly at the situation he was in, "but you should still tell her, at least you'll be satisfied knowing that you did something about it than do nothing." She shrugged walking in, leaving him there to think about her words.

She is right. He has to know, to know how you feel, he has to talk to you, has to let you know how he feels because in his heart, there's hope that you may like him back because you kissed him like you did. Mattheo wants to confirm that it wasn't his delusions that rendered your lips to move against his in adoration, something more than just physical. He has to hold you again in his arms-

He didn't even have to walk far away to find you, walking alone in the empty corridor but you turn around as you see him. Mattheo won't let you do that this time, he's onto you within seconds grabbing your wrist and pulling you back. "What-" "Please don't ignore me-" "I am not!" You sound defensive, taking your hand back, folding them as you look at him as though he is some lowlife human, there's a similar hurt in your eyes, one he knows a bit too well. "Yes you are, please don't try to deny it," he says slowly and carefully, he doesn't want you to walk away, "what do you want Mattheo?" You are annoyed, you stretch out his name showing your impatience. He takes his sweet time though, taking your hands in his, they feel cold, snatching away the warmthness of the action, "Why did you walk away? Yesterday?" "Why? Is there some rule against it-""no no ofcourse not-" both of you interrupting each other, you were frustrated, what was he trying to do? Did his ego take such a huge hit that you didn't want to sleep with him, like those girls he used and discarded? "Tell me why is it that you care? It's not a huge deal to you, you can have anyone else to sleep with you, it shouldn't matter that one girl decided to walk away when you have tens and hundreds lining up-" "WHAT?" He was looking at as though you were saying something ridiculous, "I cared about our relationship enough not to ruin it but you had to be there, trying to use me like you use the other girls and then discard me-" "STOP!" He holds your face in his hands, intense gaze setting you ablaze, "I fucking care, don’t think otherwise, I care because it's you, you could never be them-"

"wow- am I so worthless and unattractive in your eyes that you don't even-" "Wait, it should be me saying all of this, about you and the guys you on dates with, the guys you take to bed-" "What guys-" you both were now screaming at eachother, it was overwhelming, having to be vulnerable and admit your feelings and not understand what the person in front of you is saying. "I have not once slept with the guys I went on dates with, I'm in love with you for fucks sake but I got tired of waiting for you to love me," What.

He fucked up.

"Fuck, fuck-" his knees hit the ground as he covers his face with his hands, he's ruined all his chances by being an assuming dickhead. Heavens goodness- "FUCK!" He groans into his palms, not being able to digest what you had just said, he feels ecstatic that you love him but he hates that he's ruined his chances with you, "Mattheo-" "Fuck, I am so sorry, I've been a fool, a fucking idiot-" he pulls you down, grabbing your hands, crying because he doesn't know any other way to express it. He has lost his chance all because he let jealousy get the best of him, took illogical steps to overcome it. "I love you, I fucking am in love with you," he grips your hands tight, shaking them as he speaks, unable to control his very physical reaction, "Mattheo what-" "I thought that I could fuck it all out, fuck all the feelings away but no you were always on my mind, not just you but you with someone else, happy. I thought maybe I could resort to your ways, thought maybe I could sleep around then I'd get rid of my feelings, afterall you seemed happy doing it but you never- FUCK! I am so fucking sorry, I love you-" you kiss him, he sure was an idiot to think that you could just flip a switch and "unlove" him, what kind of love would that be? You hated to admit it, you loved him even when he was sleeping with so many girls, you loved him before he did that, a few weeks were nothing to make you hate him.

It was brief kiss, enough to silence him, tears were still running down his face- he was a heartbroken man on his knees afterall- they were only a sign of his regret, then he was at it again, apologising, "stop Mattheo, you are foolish if you think that I'll love one moment and not love you the next-" "but you don't deserve it, not after what I did-" "let me decide that. Do you love me?" Your ask is serious, so he answers you with utmost sincerity, his words soft, full of truth "I love you, more than I think I can handle," he looks down, you don't let him as you wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him close, "Learn to handle it then, I am not going anywhere." For the first time in his life, does Mattheo experience pure bliss, you are a sin against his lips, he pulls you closer like a prayer because if there's a god above, he'd pray for you to be his.

...

#first post #mattheo riddle #slytherin #slytherin boys #draco malfoy #matheo riddle #pansy parkinson #matheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheoxreader #had a hard time writing on here #realised it was mattheo and not matheo after completing the whole fic #had to manually copy paste each para into google doc

[a11eya]

TITLE: do you still think about me?

PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

SUMMARY: Okay, so you had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on Bakugou when you were both in high school. He was kind of your first love, if you believe in those kinds of things. But you got over it. It's fine.

You see Bakugou sometimes at hangouts, at get-togethers. He's in your orbit, or you're in his, because of your mutual friends. You're all adults now, so it's fine. It's a little weird, but fine.

You're supposed to be on vacation, at a place that's hours away from Musutafu. You're not sure what you've done to deserve it, but Bakugou's here too. And instead of both of you pretending the other doesn't exist, as usual, he's talking to you. He's everywhere. It's fine.

(It's not fine.)

TAGS: pro hero Bakugou Katsuki, aged-up characters, friends to lovers (being generous with that friends label lol), fluff, pining, eventual smut

STATUS: Ongoing; 2 of ?

NAVIGATION: Series Masterlist

Okay, so you’re a liar. 

You’re still—really attracted to Bakugou. You don’t think you ever stopped being attracted to him. 

You’d told Rie a half truth; yes, at first, what’d drawn you to him was his face. 

Even in your generation’s set of heroes—the likes of which include the so-beautiful-he’s-almost-unreal legacy hero, Pro Hero Shouto, and All Might’s successor, sweet, freckled, boy-next-door Pro Hero Deku—Bakugou stands out. Something about him makes you want to look at him. 

When you were teenagers, he had the rough, unfinished kind of good looks he’d at best disregarded and at worst willfully skewed, often marring them with bared teeth, deep scowls, and constant yelling. 

As an adult, he’s devastating. 

Those good looks matured into a deeply attractive masculinity, a captivating mix of confidence and competence, his personality’s extremes tempered. His shoulders broadened; he’d shot up in height. The scars he’d collected during the war gave him a dangerous, alluring edge. 

(Or so the web magazines and tabloids say. When you look at his scars, you remember that time of fear and uncertainty; you remember the relief you felt when it was over, the catch in your chest when you saw Sero’s, Mina’s, Kaminari’s faces. Bakugou’s face. Battered, hurt, but okay.) 

You didn’t tell Rie that what you find even more attractive about Bakugou is what you’ve learned of him, from how the people who care about him talk about him. From what you’ve seen of him when you do cross paths. 

A year or two ago, Deku nearly collapsed from overwork consulting on a difficult, international case while maintaining his regular workload. The only reason you know as much as you do about it (not much) is because their class is still so close, even after all these years, and it’d come up briefly during a get-together.

“Midoriya only listens to Bakugou,” Sero’d said over drinks one night, shaking his head. “That guy’s hard headed. But he’ll be okay. Bakugou’s got it.” 

Bakugou knocked some sense into Deku, apparently, and had supported him to the end of that case. 

You hear that another of their classmates, Jirou, has a pretty popular band. You were shocked to see a video circulating a couple months ago featuring Bakugou on the drums. He’d worn all black, a shirt with the sleeves cut off, and someone on Chirper had zoomed in on his face and confirmed he’d been wearing eyeliner. 

Mina’d told you that Jirou’s drummer had broken his wrist right before a performance. Bakugou had subbed in. You didn’t save the eyeliner picture, but sometimes you think about how his eyes looked in it and shiver. 

The last time you saw Bakugou was at that dinner with Rie, Sero, Kirishima, and Mina. Kirishima’d gotten a little drunk, celebrating a completed case. As you all went your separate ways that night, you couldn’t help but notice the gruff way Bakugou’d lent Kirishima a shoulder, nagging him, but still supporting his weight as he hailed a cab and helped his friend home.

You like that he’s dependable. You like that he cares so much about his friends, despite appearing to the rest of the world as unapproachable and irritable, a bomb waiting to go off. 

You’ve learned all these things about him secondhand; you know—you know that there’s a huge difference between that and knowing him yourself, directly. If you could have a do-over with him, you’d have played it cool, in high school. Maybe then you could’ve at least been friends, instead of friends of friends. 

You don’t think that’s in the cards for you. And that’s okay. You’ve made your peace with it. 

Yawning, you cover your mouth, then rub at your eyes, trying to wake up. It’s early enough that you’re really regretting trying to stick to your routine by going for a run, even while on vacation. 

You’re already dressed, out here and ready, you tell yourself. Just go. You think of how good the massage you’ve got scheduled later today will feel after some exercise. 

The hills surrounding the ryokan are green with the beginnings of spring, and here outside the city, closer to the mountains, the heat and the humidity have yet to reach their seasonal peaks. The air’s clear, and you inhale deeply. 

You’d have to thank the staff member who’d suggested this forest trail to you. It’s conveniently close to the ryokan while still being far enough apart that you have yet to bump into any early bird tourists. And the scenery’s a perfect companion on your run. 

With this thought to motivate you, you set to stretching. 

You’re bent down, reaching to touch your toes, when the barest sound of footsteps comes from behind you. 

You jump, swinging around. 

Bakugou stands there in shorts and a form-fitting shirt, hands stuffed into his pockets. Your eyes snag on his shoulders, his biceps. 

He raises an eyebrow at you. 

“You’re jumpy as fuck,” he tells you, and you make a face. 

“Wear a bell,” you retort. Your heart’s still beating a little fast. 

He snorts, then begins his own stretches. 

You watch him for a few moments before your brain turns on. 

“You’re not… going running with me, are you?” you ask. Wait. Maybe he’s just going running at the same time as you. Not necessarily with you.

“Why, can’t keep up?” Bakugou asks, a hint of a smirk on his face. He maintains eye contact for a beat longer, long enough for your stupid brain to remember how attractive he is, for your heart to pick up the pace without your permission. With how much work your heart’s put in within just five minutes, maybe you don’t even need to work out this morning. 

He straightens up, and without another word, he takes off. 

You stand there for a moment, stupefied. Then, scowling, you run after him.

“You’ve got stamina,” Bakugou says, leaning against the table. 

“...Thanks,” you say, the word coming out as more of a question than a statement, and he grunts but doesn’t say anything more. Shifting your weight, you sip your water, wondering how you got here. 

You’d caught up with Bakugou pretty fast—you suspect he wasn’t going full speed. For a while, you’d stressed. Were you going too slow? Too fast? Did he really expect you to keep up with him, when fitness is a big part of his job as a pro hero, while you’re a normal office worker? 

But minutes and distance passed, and thoughts faded into the background. Your exertion overrode your worries. You let yourself fall into the feeling of your feet striking dirt, the rhythmic inhale and exhale of air. 

All the while, Bakugou kept pace with you. When you’d decided you were done after a couple loops of the trail, he’d accompanied you back to the ryokan, lingering with you here at the lobby’s refreshments area. 

You’re really not sure what’s happening. It’s hard to believe that your leisurely run was up to his usual standards. You wonder if he’s bored, craving company, since he’d come out here alone and you’re conveniently around to sate that boredom. 

“So do you usually run outdoors, or do you use your agency’s gym?” you ask, wrapping your hands around your water cup. 

“Gym,” Bakugou says. His face grows pinched, annoyed. “Too many randos try to talk to me if I go running outdoors.”

“Oh, right. Pro Hero Dynamight.” You frown. “That sucks. But your agency’s gym’s pretty nice, I hear. Hanta’s said he wishes ours was as good.”

“It’s decent,” he says. His eyes move to your hands, fidgeting with your cup. Self-conscious, you stop. 

Abruptly, he says, “Heard you got promoted recently. Congrats.”

“Oh!” Tilting your head slightly, you say, “Thanks, Bakugou. Though honestly, it feels like I just get more work dumped on me with the added responsibility of having to fix people’s problems when work drama happens. The pay bump’s nice, though.”

“You’ve always been good at your shit,” Bakugou says. “Don’t downplay it.” 

You blink. Ridiculously, you feel your face begin to warm up. 

“Thanks,” you say again, a little softer. You smile up at him. 

He looks at you, and—it feels like he’s so close. Was he always standing this close? 

Your phone chimes from within your pocket. You fish it out, eyes dropping to your phone screen as you avoid Bakugou’s eyes, feeling shy and off balance. Which is dumb, because it was just a compliment, jeez. Get it together. He’s just being nice. 

It’s Rie, wondering where you are and asking you to get back to your room. Checking the time, you wince. You’d been out later than you intended. 

“Hey, I gotta run,” you tell Bakugou. Glancing around, you look for somewhere to get rid of your cup. 

“I got it,” Bakugou says, taking it from you. Your hands brush against each other, and you’re so annoyed at yourself for being so aware of him that juvenile gestures like this get your heart rate up. 

“Thanks,” you say. “And thanks for the company! It was fun. Maybe I’ll see you around, but if I don’t, enjoy the rest of your vacation!” 

You don’t wait for a reply, hurrying out of the lobby towards your room. 

Rie’s packing when you use your key to let yourself into the room. 

For a moment, you stare at her as she moves what few things she’d unpacked back into her luggage. You just want to be sure that she’s packing her things rather than unpacking them, as you’d finished doing just yesterday. 

“Hello? What’re you doing?” you say. “Our reservation’s for the entire weekend, so why are you packing?”

Rie groans loudly. “Don’t remind me. I’m so mad. Stop standing there and come sit so I can explain.” 

Bewildered, you toe off your shoes and sit on one of the lounge chairs, unwilling to sit on either of your beds in workout clothes. 

Rie perches on the table in front of you and looks at you. “So don’t be mad. But I have to go because I got an emergency call from a client who has an event this evening. She’s paying me triple, and she’s going to reimburse me for my reservation here.” 

Your jaw drops. “Triple? Must be a rich client.”

Rie laughs. “Very. Her wallet won’t even notice. And now I can use her reimbursement to book a future reservation with Hanta.”

“I mean, that’s great for you, but… Should I come back with you? So you’re not traveling back alone?” 

Rie looks at you like you’ve said something ridiculous. “What? No. Stay here. Enjoy the rest of the weekend. It’s like… doubly free for you now, so there’s no way you can waste it.” 

You frown. She’s right; it would be a waste to go. But it’s a little… lonely, thinking about the plans you’d made together and knowing you’d be doing them by yourself, now. 

Ever perceptive, Rie reaches over and jostles your leg. “Hey. I really am sorry for leaving you for work. If you want, I can tell her I’m not available. I know we came all the way out here together, and you did it as a favor. She’s a regular client. She won’t drop me if I cancel on her once.”

You’re already shaking your head. “No way. The deal’s too good. If you do something dumb like that, I’ll kill you.”

Snorting, Rie leans back. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you say firmly. You smile. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

You see Rie off as she climbs into a shuttle provided by the ryokan. It’ll take her to the train station, and she should arrive back in the city by mid-afternoon. 

You text Sero in case he doesn’t know Rie’s headed back. Maybe he could pick her up at the station. You’ve yet to receive a reply from him, but you know he’s probably busy with patrol right now. 

After showering the sweat of your workout off, you sprawl across your bed and stare at the ceiling. 

Originally, your plans had been to check out the town’s morning market, shop around a bit, then have lunch. After that, a visit to a temple nearby was on the agenda. The day would end with your scheduled massage and a dip in the onsen. 

Now, the thought of such an activities-filled day tires you. 

You close your eyes. Maybe you can just. Skip everything except for the massage today. 

Your phone pings. Eyes still closed, you pat around next to you for it and then check the message you’d received. 

Rie: If I find out you just stayed in the room for the next two days… 🔪🔪🔪

If you didn’t already know her quirk, you would’ve thought she’s telepathic. 

Sighing, you force yourself up and off the bed and get dressed. 

The market’s busy, with tourists and locals alike mingling through the crowded main street. Shops line either side of the street, some selling local handicrafts and souvenirs, others selling food and desserts. 

The overlapping sounds create a pleasant background hum, and you happily peer into stores, hunting for things to bring back. 

You find a bath and skincare set for Rie, who constantly complains about her dry skin but never does anything about it. A coin purse for Mina, who always carries her coins loose in her pockets, clinking around. Some local confections for Kaminari and Sato. Hanta gets a bag full of local fruits; he’s always been a little bit of a health nut.

Just as you’re about to enter a bakery, windows lined with delicious looking breads and desserts, you spot a familiar blond head of hair just outside.

“Bakugou?” you call out, and he turns.

Like you, he’s changed from workout clothes to casual clothes. Jeans, a shirt. He’s holding a coffee with the bakery’s branding. 

“Is that any good?” you ask, pointing at his drink. 

He shrugs. “S’okay.”

You bite your lip, trying to stifle a smile. “I’m starting to think that just okay to you is what regular people think is great.” 

He gives you a look, and you grin. 

Stepping back, you wave a little. “I’m gonna go inside and check things out. It was nice seeing you.”

Instead of continuing on his way, Bakugou follows you inside. Surprised that he’s stuck around, you glance back at him. 

“What’re you gonna get?” he asks you. 

In this little bakery, you can’t help but notice how tall he is. Especially with him right behind you, waiting for you to answer. 

“I haven’t had breakfast yet, so… This bread looks pretty good.” You point at it. It’s savory looking, with cheese and some type of meat on it. “And I saw someone come out with this strawberry cream croissant! It’s the real reason I’m in here.” 

You don’t hear what he says in response, as you’re next in line and quickly order. When you go to pay, you find yourself nudged aside as Bakugou takes care of it before you can protest. 

“Bakugou, what?” 

“Didn’t anybody teach you to just say thank you?” Bakugou says, herding you to the side with a hand on your back so that the person behind you can order. His touch is so warm; you wonder if it’s because of his quirk, if it works that way. 

“Thank you,” you say automatically, then frown. “You really didn’t have to.” 

“Go get your bread,” he just says. 

You do, feeling off-kilter again. It’s what you’ve been feeling every single time you’ve seen Bakugou this weekend. You’ve gone from seeing him maybe two or three times a year since you graduated to two or three times a month this last year. And now, within the span of twenty-four hours, you’ve seen him three times. 

And it hasn’t been purposeful, at least on your end. So has it been purposeful… on Bakugou’s end?

“What’re you thinking,” Bakugou says as the two of you rejoin the crowds of people walking the main street. You don’t have a particular destination in mind, and if Bakugou does, he doesn’t say anything. 

You consider being straightforward and asking him what the deal is. He’s never shown any interest in interacting with you before. 

But—no, it’s a little too embarrassing. It could really just be coincidence. The ryokan is big, but not that big. It’d be easy to bump into the same person there. And there’re a bunch of touristy things to do in the area, but only to an extent. He could just be interested in doing the same things you’re interested in checking out. 

Asking him if he’s been bumping into you on purpose… no way. 

“There’s a famous dango place nearby,” you end up saying, then take a quick bite of the strawberry croissant. You nearly moan. It’s so good. The strawberries are fresh, and the croissant is flaky and light. The cream isn’t too sweet. It’s perfect. 

Swallowing hastily, you continue, “They have seasonal flavors, but their mitarashi is really good too, I hear.” 

“Fucking messy,” Bakugou says. You make a questioning sound, turning your head to look at him. He looks at you for a long moment, then snorts. He grabs your arm to halt you, tugs you out of the way of people walking. 

Taking a napkin from his pocket, he tilts your chin up and wipes your mouth. You can only stand there, eyes wide.

“You had a lotta something there,” he says. His eyes tell you he’s laughing at you. Looking around, he finds a trash can to toss the napkin and his empty coffee cup. 

“Have you been hit by a quirk?” you demand once he’s back by your side. 

“What?” he asks. His brow furrows. He scowls. 

“Nevermind,” you say quickly. “Anyway, I’m going to grab some dango.”

With narrowed eyes, you point at him. “And you can only come if you promise not to pay for anything, okay?” 

He lifts a brow at you, and you take that as a yes. The two of you resume walking. 

“Where’s Rie?” Bakugou asks suddenly, and you tilt your head at him. 

“I’m surprised you know her name, with how much you call her Soy Sauce Face’s girlfriend,” you say, smiling. It fades a little as you continue, “She had to leave because of work. So I’m vacationing solo for the rest of the weekend.”

Bakugou’s expression is unreadable. You’re not sure what to make of it. 

“It’s cool. Since I’m on my own, I get to decide where I’m going,” you say. “Instead of checking out the temple, I want to do a hike at the national park nearby. Supposedly, the views are amazing.”

“Y’gonna do that today?” Bakugou asks. 

You shake your head. “No, I figure I’ll take it easy today. Enjoy the onsen. I’ll do the hike tomorrow.” 

Bakugou’s silent for a moment, and then, “You shouldn’t hike an unfamiliar trail alone. If you want someone to do that shit with, take me.” 

You blink, startled. “Oh, I… I don’t want to impose. Don’t you have stuff you want to do here, too? I don’t wanna ruin your plans.”

He stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Not really.” 

Stranger and stranger. Who comes to a vacation destination without anything to do in mind? 

If you were smart, you’d tell him thanks but no thanks. That you could handle it by yourself. 

Because spending all this time with Bakugou is making you delusional. You’re starting to read into his little touches, the things he’s saying, when he’s just being nice to his friend’s friend. His friend’s friend who got ditched on vacation. 

But you like him too much to say no. 

“Okay,” you tell him. “If you’re really cool with it, I wouldn’t mind the company. We should exchange numbers to make planning where to meet and at what time easier.” 

Bakugou grunts, pulling out his phone. He takes a moment to tap at his phone, then offers it to you. You do the same. 

As you resume walking, your hand brushes against his. The part of you that’s foolish, romantic, pretends that this moment is something more.

Notes: Hello again, darlings! Thank you so much for all the love you gave part one of this fic. 🥺 You guys are the best fr. 💖

As you can tell from this part's ending... I, like reader, am a liar lmao. A week ago, I thought this fic would end in just two parts, but I kept writing, and writing, and I realized I need at least another chapter, maybe two, to fully flesh out what I have planned. I hope you can forgive me. 🙏

Some notes for this chapter... Rie's a celebrity makeup and hair artist! The morning market is based off of shopping you can do in Arashiyama. I have had strawberry cream croissants from a Japanese-French bakery where I live, and they are delicious. Dango are little balls of rice flour that're on skewers. A popular flavor is mitarashi, or a sweet soy sauce flavor.

Anyway, I'll see you next weekend with another update! Hugs and kisses! ✨💞

Tag List: @blairbellerose @yeehawgiddyup13 @reads-stuff-quietly @surprisemodafakas @scarlett-witchh @queenpiranhadon @sleepyyhabii @j-pendragonx @bakunianadecorazon @dreamingoftomorrow @nonamebbsblog @gina239 @seabass17 @dynakats @I-bozo-I @humblechumbble @universal-s1ut @sweetblueworm @kukikoooo @liluvtojineteyam

#i feel like this chapter is just. bkg bkg bkg and reader is like !!! #but tbh that's just a glimpse into my brain #read this fic and think about how pretty bkg looked in the bnha season 7 thing #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x you #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo x you #bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #fic: dystam? #jess scribbles

[doobea]

WE ARE THE LOVESICK (GIRLS) - SAE ITOSHI

synopsis: Sae learns what the term 'whipped' means and comes to terms with it.

content: a sick!fic, fluff, sfw, early established relationship, itoshi siblings have a good(?) relationship, feels more like a brother bonding fic, soft!sae, sae centric pov, fem!reader word count: 1.6K a/n: yuh the title is based off of my fave blackpink song hehe and my bf is sick rn and instead of taking care of him im writing instead whoops - also posting this on rins birthday is NOT a crime

There are two things that Sae takes from this impromptu trip back home. One is that he should've done his passport renewal online because now he has to wait up to a whole month. He's not mentally prepared to explain that to his manager who's currently over six thousand miles away. And two, he's recently learned that you get sick really easily when you travel. Like ridiculously sick.

"Sae, I'm dying."

There's a sniffle. A cough. And then silence.

You definitely sound like you’re dying, Sae thinks. From the kitchen, he carefully watches your movements on the couch. Which is almost minimum to none. When you don’t respond to your name, Sae rushes over and takes a look. Your cheeks are flushed, hair sticking to your forehead in a way that didn’t look comfortable, a bit of drool hangs from the sides of your mouth from your lack of ability to breathe, and worst of all —

"My head hurts, Sae…" Another cough. "Do you have any aspirin?"

In the most loving way, he wishes you would’ve just stayed back in Spain.

He takes hold of your palms and places his forehead against yours. It's hot and wet to the touch. It makes him physically recoil back and Sae looks almost annoyed with himself. Maybe he should've tried harder to convince you to not come.

Sae hasn't been back home in maybe a year or two, he thinks, but surely there must be some aspirin or any form of medicine in the house, right? A quick rush through the drawers and every nook and cranny in the house proves him otherwise.

Sae jogs back to your curled-up figure on the couch and throws on his windbreaker. "I'll go out to the store and get some."

"No," You sit up too fast and wince, hands settling on the sides of your temples to support the weight of your head. "I'll get over it soon. Maybe it's just the humid weather?" You lamely suggest.

You always double down whenever it comes to your health. Trying to convince yourself that it'll get better soon because you hate being an inconvenience to others — others being Sae. You're doing this even when you look like an absolute (beautiful) wreck in Sae's eyes right now. But maybe he shouldn't exactly leave you alone when you're in a feverish state, especially in a space you're unfamiliar with.

He takes off his windbreaker and gently places it over your shoulders as he thinks on his feet. "Then I'll get someone else to do it."

You wrap yourself in his jacket and repress back a coughing fit. "Huh, like who?"

Only one person pops up in his mind and Sae isn't sure if he can count on him. But, even after everything that they've gone through, he can probably trust him. Well, maybe not trust but more like he's his only option.

"When did you even get back?"

"Last night," Sae answers and rushes to the point. "I need you to make an errand run."

"What?" Rin’s voice fills with annoyance over the line. "Why would I do that?"

"Because," Sae looks over his shoulder at the sight of your body in a fetal position on the couch. You’re visibly shaking a bit too much for his liking. Sae takes a deep breath and exhales loud enough for his brother to hear. "My girlfriend is sick. I've checked the cabinets and we don't have any medicine. I don't want to leave her alone at our house."

There's a pause and Sae is wondering if his brother has hung up. Then, Rin clears his throat on the line.

"You want me to drop what I’m doing to get medicine for your sick girlfriend? Am I hearing that right?"

Sae snaps his head at the sound of you coughing once more. You look disheveled and your eyes are unfocused on what's in front of you. He sharply inhales once more. "That's exactly what I want. Do you need me to repeat it?"

Another pause and then it's Rin's turn to sigh.

"Whatever. Be there in fifteen."

And Rin keeps his word, showing up precisely in fifteen minutes, in his tracksuit to be exact, begrudgingly holding a plastic bag in his hands. The big yellow smiley face contrasts sharply with Rin's visibly irritated expression. In the bag, there’s a bottle of aspirin, cough syrup, vitamin gummies, and three ice cream bars.

Rin takes one of the ice cream bars before shoving the bag into Sae's hands. "You owe me." He hisses out.

Sae ignores his brother's glare and only nods, mumbling a lazy "thanks" before making his way back into the living room. Rin quietly follows behind. Sae figures it's because he's semi-curious about how he's been, though Rin will never admit it.

You stir from the couch at the sound of plastic and wake up when Sae pours out the contents onto the coffee table, immediately ripping the cough syrup packaging open and pouring the recommended amount into the little plastic cup.

"Here, take this." And Sae watches as Rin grimaces at how softly he speaks to you.

You weakly nod and tilt your head enough for Sae to bring it to your lips. A quick swallow followed by an equally quick shudder from the bitterness and you manage to crack a small grin. "Thank you, babe."

Rin suppresses a gagging noise when Sae plants a chaste kiss on your forehead. You take this moment to finally register two and two together. Sae hasn't outright introduced you to his family members, but he has shown you pictures of them from time to time.

"Sorry for the intrusion—you must be Rin, right?" You sit up straight, still wrapped around Sae's windbreaker, and extend out a hand. "He's told me a lot about you."

Yeah, maybe Sae should've locked you back home.

His younger brother throws him a look, not annoyed but slightly amused. "He has?"

You seem to miss the panicked scowl that Sae flashes at you and continue on. "Plenty! He talks about you almost every day and watches your games at the dinner table."

Sae tenses when he feels Rin's gaze hardening on him. "You do...?"

Sae awkwardly clears his throat, suddenly feeling heat rushing to his neck, and starts heading towards the kitchen. "I'm going to make a drink."

Fortunately, you didn't catch the thick tension and begin rambling to Rin. And seeing Rin attempting to start a conversation with you is physically painful. Sae sips on a cup of coffee as you talk about what you do for a living and how you and Sae met. Rin awkwardly nods, adding a small few comments here and there. He'll occasionally try his best to smile and sound remotely interested without coming off as a deadpan ass. Talking to Rin is like talking to a rock, Sae concludes. A giant, lanky, grumpy rock.

"It was nice meeting you, Rin." Your voice still sounds fried but better than what it was earlier.

"Yeah, you too." The taller male rubs the back of his neck sheepishly and stands. "Hey," Rin's voice directs over to Sae and he nudges his head towards the hallway. "Mind if we talk real quick?"

Sae exhales for what it feels like the tenth time today. "Sure."

Both brothers lean on opposite sides of the wall, seemingly also avoiding each other's gazes because wow the floor looks mildly entertaining right now. When was the last time that they even had a proper conversation without ripping each other's throats apart? Sae honestly can't remember but it didn't seem like that was on Rin's to-do list.

Rin breaks the heavy silence first with a loud unwrapping sound from his ice cream bar. He stares at it for a long moment and splits the bar down the middle, offering one stick to Sae. "How long are you staying for?"

Sae accepts it and takes a small bite. "A month."

"Showing your girlfriend around the country?"

"Maybe, but I'm just waiting on my passport."

"Should've done it online, dumbass."

Sae pretends the comment doesn't tick him off. "Why are you asking anyway?"

"Nothing." Rin drops the subject and finishes off his half of the dessert. "You've gotten softer. It's like you're whipped or something."

Sae rolls his eyes and bites off the remaining ice cream on his stick. "What does that mean?"

"It means that if she asked you to do a handstand and sing a song, you'd do it."

Sae finds himself pausing, thinks for a bit, and shrugs. "And that's a bad thing?"

Rin's eyes narrow before racking a hand through his hair. "Actually, forget I said anything."

For a brief second, Sae isn't sure if Rin is annoyed at the fact that he would do all those things for you or if he's annoyed that he didn't know what whipped means. Maybe both.

Rin pushes himself off the wall and starts heading towards the entrance, waving off to you as you lay on the couch, probably scrolling aimlessly on the phone. Before Rin steps out, he whips around and gives Sae a final hard stare.

"If you're ever free, let me know." And before Sae can even respond, he's out the door.

You giggle from the couch at the interaction. "He's cute."

The couch dips slightly as Sae plops down next to you, arms immediately wrapping around your waist and tugging you close to his embrace. "Sometimes weird." He adds.

"By the way," You start in a coy tone. "You're fine with doing all of that?"

Sae presses his lips against your shoulder and hums. "Doing all of what?"

"A handstand and singing me a song." Your grin is so infectious that it's making his heart swell.

"I can do it no problem," Sae replies easily.

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock imagines #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #doobea writing #blue lock headcanons #itoshi sae #sae itoshi #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x reader #blue lock fluff #is this another soft sae fic? #of course it is silly! #dw my bf is fine #i think? #im changing up my lil dividers hehe #gonna associate the colors w the character :>

[superhumanfoods]

We need to talk about Sending Rocks.

You probably don't understand what that means. That's fine. It's a weird little example I made up, and I'll explain.

I'm the creator of the near-future cyberpunk podcast SINKHOLE. SINKHOLE is weird, short-form, nearly impossible to explain to people, and utterly unmonetizable. It's also got a very healthy listenership for something so esoteric. (I promise season three is coming; life just keeps happening, constantly.)

Because of that, I have a reputation as a weird little indie creator. And if I were to run a crowdfund, I could set up a donation tier that was literally just

"I will go outside, find a rock on the ground, and mail it to you."

and most people would find that funny and charming. I think, at worst, people might find it puzzling, but they'd still opt in out of curiosity.

A lot of you would let me send you rocks.

Now we need to talk about the re: Dracula crowdfund- about the zines. A handful of people got very upset about the perceived lack of quality present in the zines.

That caught me off-guard. To me, a zine should always be kind of janky. You should be able to tell exactly how far down the pile your specific zine was based purely on how committed to hitting the fold lines the person folding it was. Zines are handmade and should feel handmade.

So it seemed like people were complaining about the zines being zines, and I didn't get it.

And then I realized something: it's not about the zines. It's about the fact that they were coming from Tal Minear.

If Tal Minear ran a crowdfund and set up a donation tier that was just

"I will go outside, find a rock on the ground, and mail it to you."

I would give it about a day before someone found a way to turn that specifically into a talking point about how Tal doesn't respect the audio drama community.

Tal Minear cannot send rocks. The zine was never the problem. The way people think about Tal is the problem.

We need to talk about how this community keeps trying to reinvent classism based on nothing but vibes and follower numbers.

I'm going to tell you something you already know but probably don't want to admit: the independent audio drama scene is to the independent film scene what a fish tank in a dentist's office is to the ocean.

The biggest names in this community are just a step up from being nobodies.

If you went outside right now and spoke to the first person you saw on the street, the only non-BBC fiction podcasts you would have any realistic hope of them knowing are Welcome to Night Vale or Archive 81- and the latter only because it got turned into a Netflix show, which means that they might not even realize it was a podcast first. There's also a chance they'll have heard of The Magnus Archives, but it's not a guarantee by any means.

Now, this last one I've mentioned to a few people, and was surprised to get a lot of pushback. There seems to be this thought that no, of course everyone has heard of The Magnus Archives.

No. No, man.

You're doing the Homestuck thing. I hate to hurt you like this, but you're doing that thing people did where they assumed everyone had at least heard of Homestuck.

There are people in your life that have never heard of Homestuck.

The Magnus Archives was a mini-zeitgeist in which the fandom engaged in wild speculating, plentiful shipping, and lots and lots of aligning yourself with a specific Fear.

And it was never as big as Homestuck.

I'm sorry. Jonny Sims is not a household name. That's simply the truth.

He is also in this fish tank with us. As far as I am aware, he has not escaped to begin acting in feature films or begun voicing characters in massive video game franchises. Slay the Princess was pretty cool. It's not exactly fucking Assassin's Creed, though.

He doesn't even have a Wikipedia page.

And notice how my metric for breakout success involved going to other, better-known mediums? That's because a breakout success in this community involves getting a blurb on Buzzfeed or in Cosmo. There is no audio fiction podcasting elite. The idea is hilarious.

Even Markiplier doesn't count, because he's YouTube royalty. He's not famous because of The Edge of Sleep. The same is true of any celebrity. They're visitors. They didn't get their break here.

Tal Minear is not your landlord. They're a slightly bigger fish in the same tank as you that likes to poke around in the muck a bit more than you personally enjoy. And, well, you cannot argue that Tal's position as showrunner of re: Dracula justifies framing them that way.

Because the thing is, I'm not just the creator of SINKHOLE. I'm also the showrunner and head writer of Mayfair Watchers Society as of season two. Showrunning and writing is most of my income these days. Tal and I are very comparable in terms of the material power we wield. This isn't a secret.

And yet, a lot of you would still let me send you rocks.

Now the actually important thing.

We need to talk about how this exact illusion, this fanciful idea that there are real industry goliaths in this fishbowl, has already been used to justify the mistreatment of marginalized people.

When Tonia Ransom brought up the issues she had with how the AnonymousAD tumblr had characterized her crowdfunding campaign, this is the reason why people felt they could dismiss and ignore her. Because yes, she's a black woman speaking out about having been wronged, but she's also a "Big Creator," and therefore it evens out.

It doesn't even out.

A lot of the most successful creators you know in this space still have day jobs. I spent yesterday and today doing inventory at my retail job. I spent hours poring over shitty little badly printed tags and biting back swear words because our owner will not let us close, so there were still customers in the store, actively buying the things we were trying to count.

This Us vs Them shit has got to stop. It's nothing. It's a parody and a sham. If you tried to explain it to your grandmother, she'd give you the exact same reaction as if you had tried to tell her about drama in the Homestuck fandom.

Because it's the same.

And you don't get to use it to justify being shitty to someone who you know perfectly well would deserve your humility and understanding if you weren't pretending they were your boss.

Who can send rocks is not and has never been a reflection of real power or privilege. Deciding someone cannot send rocks is just a convenient excuse to disregard their perspective when it makes you angry or uncomfortable.

At best, it's tilting at windmills. At worst, it is punishing your peers for daring to defend themselves or speak out against injustice while being marginally more successful than you.

#audio drama #enough of this #it's been going on for a while and getting progressively worse #none of this Big Name Fan shit #this is fandom toxicity #and we're not even a goddamn fandom

[plutoswritingplanet]

It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt.3

a/n: so i lied about this being the last chapter, there's one more, i know im sorry....... also shout out to my friends, who were unbelievably helpful with the smut part because oh, there's smut here

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (yuuuh yuuuuuuh), Alcohol, like....a tiny bit of Humiliation.

Summary: The month-long courting comes to an end with a bang! As your engagement party commences, wine flows and darker feelings rise to the surface

Pt. 1, Pt.2 Pt.4 (finale)

In the darkness of the night, he still comes to you in your dreams, knife in hand, body taunt and ready to strike. Every single morning, you awake with a gasp, as visions of your tormentor plague you. In some, he slits your throat, reveling in the way red cascades down your nightgown. Other times, it's a quick and brutal stabbing, your insides twisting as you wake. 

But then, there are those rare nights where you rise from your bed, sweat clinging to your skin, as you fight with the pressure in your stomach, try to rid yourself of the images, before making yourself presentable for breakfast. 

Those dreams, nightmares, are the worst. 

White, elegant fingers, grabbing, pulling, pinching every surface of your exposed skin. Defined arms around you, squeezing your pliant body in an embrace that is as tender and romantic, as a snake suffocating its victim. Deceivingly soft lips, mapping a trail down your front, pulling back to reveal teeth, which make that same trail visible, hurting.

In those dreams, he paints you with black. Taints you, until you're molded into his perverse image, until there's no telling where he ends, and you begin. He makes you into a sculpture, in a way that an artist cuts away pieces of clay, slowly robbing you of all agency, until there's only what he wants to see. And you let him, with a trembling smile on your lips, hands twisted into the stained sheets of your bed. 

Ignoring him has become an art form as well.

Since your faithful tangle at the training barracks, you did everything in your power, to never appear in the same room as him, or at least, never alone. You became a shadow in your own home, a whisper of the person you used to be. Shame is a powerful thing, and you wore it like a wedding veil over your face. Paul would always help you, silently. Never asking outright what had happened between you and the Harkonnen, but somehow always knowing. Your brother, your salvation, breaks your heart everytime he grabs your hand, and leads you away from the predator in the room.

The date of your engagement party has been set a week into the future. The nervous bustling of the court only heightening your already wracked thoughts, as the inevitability of your situation begins to haul you to the ground. 

Your Mother took most of the preparations on her back, directing the servants, the kitchen, the musicians. She picked out a dress for you, some flowing abomination, which hung in your closet, reminding you every morning, that you will have to wear it with a smile. You hoped, there will be wine at the feast, hope that it will be sweet enough to dull your insides. 

As the date of the feast comes closer and closer, you begin to spend more time outside. 

The air is crisp and smells of seawater, and you can't help but inhale fully, every time. You want it seared into your brain, so whenever you're taken away from your home, you can run back to this memory, to the feel of grass under your fingers. 

- You'll catch a cold, if you keep sitting here.

Paul's voice brings you back from your dark thoughts, and you look up, from your spot in the grass. He stands a couple paces back, hands folded behind his back in a manner, that is reminding you of your Father more and more every day. 

- Do you want to join me? - you ask, your lips quirking up into a small smile - Or would you prefer to stand there like a pillar of salt?

Your brother shakes his head, before coming closer and plopping down next to you, his skinny legs stretched out in front of him. The both of you sit in silence for a while, enjoying the breeze ruffling your hair, the smell of ocean and the waves crashing into the cliffs. There are seagulls flying over your heads, and you feel the moisture from the grass seep into your clothing. 

A wistful sigh escapes you, before you can stop it, and you let yourself fall, laying flat on the hill. 

Paul looks down at you, undescribable sadness swimming in his eyes, and an instinct of sister awakes in you, a need to comfort, despite being a wreck yourself. So, you offer him a smile, a tired one, but a smile nonetheless. 

- Do you think we could take the horses for a ride today? - your brother asks with naive hope, his eyes turning to the sea.

- Mother won't allow me to go, she wants me to spend my pondering the proper behavior during the feast - try as you might, you can't hide the bitterness in your voice - Besides, I could fall off and hurt the merchandising. 

Paul's hand finds yours, and he squeezes your fingers tightly. It's hard not to break, in moments like these. When you're forced to remember, you'll most likely never see your family again. 

- If I could do something, anything... - you recognize that feverish note in your brother's voice, it's devoid of reason, impulsive, too much like you.

- But you can't, so you won't.

A frustrated sound escapes his mouth, and he turns back to the sea. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, eyelashes falling heavily on your cheeks. He looks like a Duke, you conclude, and that thought feels strangely comforting. No matter where you'll be shipped off, no matter what life has in store for you in the future, somehow, you know your brother will persevere. 

- Do you remember that time Gurney made us train on the beach? - you ask, a sudden wave of nostalgia washing over you, as the clouds float in the sky above you - Cause of the... The balance. We had to try to balance in the sand.

Paul twists his head towards you, surprised at the turn of the conversation, before cracking a smile. 

- Yes, he slipped on the rocks, nearly broke his backbone - he starts to wave his hands around in a wonderful reenactment of your mentor's fall, before collapsing next to you in the grass.

Your laughter mingles with the sounds of the sea, as the both of you, the future of House Atriedes, share memories, scenes from the life you've lived together. The good and the bad. The horse races through plains and hills of Caladan, the many, many food fights. It's hard to tell, how much time you spend together, laying in the grass, but when you finally fall into silence, the air has become considerably more chilly. A sign, it's time to return to reality, to your duties. 

- You should've been me, and I you - Paul whispers suddenly, and you close your eyes in a pained expression. 

Perhaps it's true. Perhaps Lady Jessica made a mistake, and gave a Daughter where she should've given a Son. Now, it's no longer important. Your roles have been set in place, all you could do, is fulfill them. Somewhere back, in the direction of the Palace you can hear a voice calling your names. A reminder, that the world outside this grassy sanctuary exists, and can't wait any longer. 

You move to stand, Paul gathering himself up closely behind. Your clothes stick to your body, and you're shivering from the cold, but if you could spend just one more moment exactly like that, you would've taken that chance without question. 

An arm snakes around your elbow, and you lean onto your brother's shoulder, as you start to walk back, steps swaying like a pair of drunkards. Then, Paul tugs you closer, you can feel him tense suddenly, as he leans with a sullen expression on his pale face.

- I hate the way he looks at you - he confesses, waves upon waves of righteous Atriedes fury crashing in his voice.

You don't know how to respond to that, so you stay silent, giving his arm a reassuring tug.

That was the last conversation you've had with your brother.

*** While the House Atriedes is characterized by a rather mellow temper, there was one thing they took extremely seriously. And those, unfortunately for you, were engagement rituals. 

So, that's why you sit posed like a porcelain doll in a deep chair, next to your soon-to-be husband, at the foot of a long table, surrounded by music, and dancing, and food. There are ribbons hung from the high ceilings, and flickering lights float around them like little fireflies. You watch, as they dance above you, the ridiculous headdress placed on your hair digs into your skul. Color surrounds you, your own dress flowing like a waterfall, elegant, yet delicate. The pools of fabric gather around your legs, a chiffon monstrosity, that you know, is supposed to make you beautiful. 

And perhaps you would've felt beautiful, if this was any other occasion. A birthday feast, perhaps. Dare you say, and engagement party with someone you actually loved. 

Speaking of which, your betrothed sits beside you, sticking out like a sore thumb. He looks utterly bored, eyes following the celebrating masses, hand playing with a steak knife. Not enough blood for his tastes, you suppose. He's dressed in traditional Harkonnen attire, which you think, doesn't really look that much different from all the other outfits you've seen him in. Black, sleek, efficient. You must be a curious pair, a mass of colorful materials and a black-stone pillar. 

The wine, thankfully, is sweet. It warms your face, and turns your insides into a pleasant mush. You should've eaten more, but then again, it was a celebration of your imprisonment, and if you wanted to get drunk, you would. And you did get drunk. Quickly. 

The dress moves with you, as you slowly slide down the chair, one leg resting up on the seat. A frightfully unbecoming sight, but you can't find it in yourself to care. Another, clumsy drink from your cup, and you sigh deeply, blinking a couple of times to rid yourself of sudden dizziness. 

Your betrothed gives you a look, whether it's of warning or amusement, you're not sure. And you don't care. Your nose scrunches in the general direction of his smooth head, and you take another sip, just to spite him.

- Shut up - you grumble, a slurr entering your words.

- I haven't said a word - he counters, and this time you can see him smile.

- You're thinking, it's annoying.

Feyd Rautha has an unpleasant laugh. 

Sharp and low, and very rough around the edges. It's like listening to an old spaceship try to take off, and you're sure you don't want to hear him laugh ever again. That's it, your goal in this, frankly, fucked up marriage, will be to never make your husband laugh. Although, it's best not to think about it so loudly, he might be a hidden mind reader, and would most likely laugh in your face every day, just to torture you. 

God. You were going to regret every sip come tomorrow morning.

- You're wrapped like a present - Feyd Rautha leans down with a smirk playing on his full lips, and you have to crane your neck to look him straight in the face - Shall I unwrap you here, while your family watches?

Despite the light tone, you shiver under his gaze. Something in the way his body seems relaxed yet tense at the same time tells you, this shameless man would do it in a heartbeat, if you as much as inclined your head. 

- Gross - you groan, hand untangling itself from the amassing of chiffon to push back at his face.

It's the first time, you've touched him out of your own volition, and even in your drunken daze, you note the sudden glint in his eyes. Fingers grab at your wrist, keeping you in place, as he leans further into your touch, turning his head slightly. Wine mixes with sudden embarrassment, as his lips brush against the meat of your palm. Then, black teeth shine and your heart jumps to your throat, as he bites down on your skin, hard enough to make you jump. Tongue darts out, licking a stripe up your thumb, before giving your fingertip a tiny nibble.

You tear your hand away from him, pressing it into your chest with an appalled expression. There are indents just below your thumb in the shape of his teeth, and the confounding feelings you've been trying to stoke for almost a month now, come crashing down upon you.

He looks satisfied with himself, returning back to his seat, and his steak knife. The utensil reflects the flowing lights, and despite yourself you swallow thickly, turning back to your cup, which is quickly becoming empty.

God, it was getting incessantly hot in this cursed dining hall. 

Whether it was the wine, or the sudden wave of knee-bending arousal washing through you, you couldn't tell. (It was both, you were fully aware it was both) And you're uncomfortable, terribly so. You fidget in your seat, almost painfully aware of the heat, which has now spread further down. The fabric of the dress slides against your body, skin becoming far too sensitive, too hungry for touch. You try to relieve some of your torment, legs squeezing and rubbing together. Treacherous tongues of self-awareness rear its ugly heads, and you look up, and...

Of course he noticed. 

Feyd Rautha places his chin in his hand, and he observes you with a knowing look, which turns dark and terrifying as soon as your eyes meet.

- Careful, lest the court starts talking - he warns you, his voice somehow becoming deeper than before, and you take a shuddering breath.

Dagnerous, this is dangerous.

 You're seated far away from your family, from any consolation, and even if they were close enough to intervene, the masses of dancing people, the sound of their laughter... Your heart stops, a snake curling itself around your insides. Truly, if that beast of a man wanted to, he could make do of his threat from earlier, and take you where you sit. Haunted by that thought, both terrifying and arousing, you down the rest of your wine. 

It doesn't taste as good anymore. Hell, it threatens to come back up, until you force it to sit in your stomach. 

Duncan, you need to find Duncan, or you'll do something incredibly stupid. You'll do something incredibly stupid either way, but at least the regret will be less biting. So, pulling yourself up on trembling arms, you shuffle out of your chair, your betrothed's heated gaze following you on your way through the hall. 

People don't even look at you, too enraptured with free food and drinks, and the music, which flows loudly through the air. Good, in any other case, the Duke's Daughter, stumbling drunk through corridors, would certainly lift some eyebrows. Your feet carry you towards the training barracks, a familiar route you've followed many times. Indulging in sex with your Father's most trusted advisor was not the healthiest form of regulating emotions, but you needed something, and God knows, you'd rather die than get it from anyone else. From Him especially.

The choice is made for you, however, as a strong hand wraps itself around your arm, just above your elbow, yanking you backwards, behind a stone column. The world spins in front of your eyes, and for a second you worry the company of wine warming your insides is about to abandon you along with breakfast. 

- Do you truly thought, you could sneak away from me?

Finally, your eyes focus on Fey Rautha's face, almost demonic in the low light of the corridor. Shadows play on his expression, falling heavily over his eyes, and you try to wrench yourself from his grasp.

- What I do is none of your business - you slurr out, wringing your arm every which way, his fingers digging painfully into your flesh - Let go of me.

The Harkonnen presses himself closer to you, trapping your body between the stone and himself. His nose nearly crushes itself into the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, taking a disturbing long whiff. You can feel his chest vibrate against your own, as he groans deep within his throat. It sobers you up in record speed, and you start to thrash in his hold. He subdues your outburst, as if he was made for it, before dragging his nose up, towards your hair. You snarl like a wild animal.

- Let me go. 

His body moves on its own accord, tearing itself away from you in an instant, legs tripping over themselves, to put distance between your bodies. He looks up at you, muscles tense and an expression of shock painted across his pale face. 

The ability to use the Voice was something you rarely took part in. Training sessions with your Mother went well, as expected of a woman, but you still had a lot of work ahead of you. You blink forcefully, steadying yourself against the wall behind you. Then, you notice the borderline murderous look on your soon-to-be husband's face.

- Witch - he spits out, baring his blackened teeth at you.

- I am the Daughter of Duke Atriedes - your voice carries a note of righteous pride, despite dread climbing up your spine - And you will treat me with respect, wedded or not.

He straightens himself with petrifying speed, and as he takes a step towards you, actions overtake reflection. Your hand winds back, and you bring a resounding slap across his sharp cheekbone. While your palm blooms with pain, he seems to barely react, closing the distance between the two of you after a tense beat. Before you have a chance to react again, his hands grab at your face, and his lips crash against yours in a punishing kiss.

Teeth clink together and the momentum of the kiss makes your head collide with the stone pillar behind you. He's fingers dig into your cheeks and your jaw, as he devours you completely, bringing down all your defences in one swoop. You kiss him back, almost immediately, opening your mouth to let him in, to meet his tongue halfway. It's almost grotesque, how much you hate and love this at the same time, the buzzing of the wine mixing with the sound of your racing heart, with the sound of his unabashed sounds of pleasure. 

Hands flail at your sides, as you grab all you can take, pulling him even closer by the thick fabric of his tunic. 

His hands however, know exactly what they want, and as he lets go of your face, they both sink down. Fingers hook into the neckline of your dress, and he tears it down, your entire body swaying with the force of his movement. Your breasts are freed for only just a moment, cold air hitting them in a way that would be uncomfortable, if they weren't immediately covered by your betrothed's large palm. He palms at your chest, as if he wants to crush it, and you bite back a whine, which threatens to spill from your abused lips. 

- Don't - he growls a warning, unoccupied hand tangling itself within your hair - Sing.

And you do. As his mouth descends upon your neglected breast, where he alternates between licks and bites that make your back fly off the wall. Once again you don't know what to do with your hands, finding them entirely useless in the Harkonnen's overpowering grasp. One, grabs at his shoulder, undecided on whether to push him off, or pull him in closer. The other one scratches four lines into his skull, as he sucks on the sensitive skin under your ribs. 

Finally, he detaches from you completely, standing straight and regarding you with a look so intensely ravenous, it shakes you to your core. Your exposed chest rises and falls in tandem with your heaving breaths, and you shiver, as cold air hits your skin. His gaze drinks in your dissheveled hair, the way your lips are puffy and red. A beautiful sight for his blackened eyes. 

- I know who you went looking for - he starts, stalking towards you once again - Can't have that, can I?

You debate feigning confusion, outrage at such accusation, which hasn't really been uttered yet. But, as Feyd Rautha stops just short of the bottom hem of your dress, you suddenly find yourself unable to speak. Instead, as a last ditched effort to rid yourself of him, your hand extends, a half-hazard attempt at liberation. He swats it away, as one would a mere fly, before sinking to his knees in front of you. 

- Lift up your dress, Viper - his voice is like thunder in your ears, and you bite your lips at the sight of his eyes, dark and surprisingly eager.

Hands move clumsily in an effort to gather all those translucent layers. You nearly trip over yourself, earning a rather nasty chuckle from below. As soon, as your legs are visible, he dives between the chiffon, his head dissapearing from sight. You can feel his lips, traveling up the expanse of your calf, giving a light bite under your knee. 

Anticipation siezes your gut, and you grab onto the wall, as if that would save you. His hands grab your leg, skin incredibly warm to the touch for someone who looks so cold, and then, with forceful tugs, he starts to manouver you. 

You let out an unbecoming squeak, as he yanks your leg over his shoulder. Strong hands keep you in place, and he reaches out around the upper part of your thigh to all but tear your undergarments off of your core. The force of this action makes you jump in place on your one available leg, just to hold your balance, and for a second you consider swatting at him. 

That thought leaves you almost immediately after it appears, as an onslaugh of kitten licks unleashes downward. A vague, head like shape moves under your dress, the chiffon floating from place to place like a hypnotizing river. The wine must've heightened your senses to an alarming degree, because as soon as Feyd Rautha begins his ministrations, you're a mess. 

It's honestly humiliating, the way you fight for any purchase on the wall behind you, as he begins to lick in earnes, parting your legs further with one hand, while the other wraps securely around your used leg. While there, he cops a feel of your behind, fingers biting into the soft flesh, and you lock your lower lip between your teeth so hard, you can taste blood on your tongue.

As if he's developed some new telepathic talents, his hand leaves your ass, in favor of winding up, and slapping it harshly. The action makes your jump in place once again, a sound stuck between outrage and glee fleeing your throat, before you have the chance to stop it. Right, "sing", you remind yourself, and immediately feel him change his tactics. 

Your bundle of nerves opens new possibilities of torment, and as his lips close around the bud, you can't help the whine, escaping through your lips. The music is loud, you remind yourself. They won't hear, no one will hear. His hand pushes your dangling leg further up your shoulder, and your back arches from the stone. You will be sore as all hell after this is done, but for now, it doesn't matter. Nothing really matters, except the way your betrothed eats you out, like a man who's been starved for decades.

- Oh shit - you curse, hands flailing uselessly - Oh fuck!

All of a sudden, everything stops, and your building peak subsides into a dissatisfactory simmer. Feyd Rautha's head emerges from under the fabric, a terrible, shit-eating grin on his wet lips.

- Such language? - he teases, tongue darting out to lap at your arousal - So unbecoming of a-...

- Fucking don't stop! - there's panic in your movements, as you grab the back of his head, and shove him right under your dress again.

The laughter should be unsettling for you, but he returns to his post with twice as much motivation, and however more strength, and before you know it, your orgasm sneaks upon you. A sudden tightness in your core is all the warning you get, before the coil snaps, and your entire body starts to spasm in pleasure. 

It's good. Incredibly so. You'd risk saying it's the most intense you've ever came, but never out loud, never to him. That shameful secret was between you and whatever God that was listening. Stars erupt behind your eyelids, your breathing stopping for just a moment. 

And then you go deliciously limp, legs giving out completely. 

To his credit, the Harkonnen catches you before you hit the floor, the arm curling around your leg proving to be an unmeasurable support. His head emerges from under the dress once again, and he lets you slide down the wall, until you're seated. He sways on the balls of his feet, still towering you, even as he crouches. 

You swallow, throat slightly raw from all the noise you've done moments ago, and he follows the movements of your neck muscles with greedy eyes. Still greedy, after taking so much. Truly, he was a Harkonnen. And before you can stop yourself, a thought materializes in your brain, a treacherous little information, which would shake you to the core, if your muscles weren't currently made of taffy.

He blushes pink. Your betrothed blushes pink, from the exercise of making you cum on his tongue alone. God, what a precious sight.

He must've noticed the serene smile playing upon your lips, and his nature to ruin comes to light. His hand reaches back, and you freeze in your spot, as you recognize that damned golden steak knife. The blade shines in the dimly lit corridor, making your breathing faster, questions swimming behind your eyes. You don't really want to fight him in this state, but you fucking will, if he tries anything. 

- An engagement present, for you, Viper. - he rasps, licking his reddened lips in an obscene display, which doesn't repulse you quite as much as it should. 

- I have nothing to give in return - your voice is stern, and your betrothed flashes you an evil grin.

Then, he presents you the tip of the knife, golden utensil hanging between his slender fingers, and you look up at him, not understanding what is expected of you. Placing one knee on the floor, Feyd Rautha lowers himself to your eye level, for the hundredth of times surprising you with the sheer grace in his movements. 

- Kiss - he whispers, into the space between the both of you.

Your eyes fall to the knife, then, to him and you take a long, deep breath. Pride, your biggest flaw, takes a deadly hit, as the man twists the knife in his fingers, looking at you expectedly. You hate him, truly and deeply, and it must be showing on your face, because he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, as soon as your eyes meet. 

Swallowing your pride, you keep his gaze, leaning towards the blade. Your lips press delicately against the cool metal and the Harkonnen flashes you a nasty, self-satisfied smirk, before slipping the knife up his sleeve and standing up. 

- I'll see you back at the feast - he gives you a small bow, and you press your lips tightly together.

- Fuck you.

- After the wedding, my Viper.

And with that, he turns around.

 You're left there, on the floor, your dignity in shambles, the exertion catching up to you all at once, as if his presence alone was the only thing keeping you from feeling pain. A stupid thought, you chastize yourself, before slowly pulling yourself from the cold tiles. 

It takes you a couple of shameful minutes, trying to put yourself back together again. The ridiculous headdress, which has slipped all the way down from your hair, will probably never look the same, as when your Mother has styled it, but you can't find it in yourself to care. 

The music still plays, as you enter the hall, and thankfully, no one notices your arrival. No one but your betrothed, who raises his drinking cup in your direction, as if nothing had happened. His face is annoying, you conclude, and turn away, your aching legs taking you towards the center of the room, where people danced and sang in celebration of your engagement. What a lovely sight, what a lovely couple. Opposites attract, right?

Bitter, aching and humiliated, you throw yourself into the crowd, let it sway you from place to place, as you dance away this whole wretched week. The whole month-long courting rituals, which were just a bullshit attempt at torture. 

It's said, that when Death comes to take your soul, you're allowed one more dance before the eternal void. 

So you dance. 

#my writing #dune part 2 #dune x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #tennis ball strikes again #i would also like to thank tiktok editing community for giving me material to daydream about #im seeing this movie again on thursday totally not because i want to write the most accurate smut in the next chapter

[shuaflix]

driving lessons for dummies

❝ i can't parallel park, but i know all the lyrics to 'driver's license' by olivia rodrigo now. ❞

PAIRING ▸ kwon soonyoung x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ fluff, humor, smut, strangers to lovers au, college au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, weed consumption, mc has the worst luck imaginable, soonyoung is down horrendous, there is a minor car crash, very minor description of blood, hurt/comfort, almost car sex, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), grinding, oral (fem. receiving), praise, lots of teasing, overstimulation, pet names (both sexy and unsexy), friend group shenanigans

SUMMARY ▸ you've finally passed your written test and gotten your permit after six failed attempts. eager to get your license while attempting to avoid overpriced driving lessons, you enlist the help of kwon soonyoung, who only requires a STIIZY pod as payment.

PLAYLIST ▸ new romantics by taylor swift • see you again by tyler, the creator, kali uchis 

WORD COUNT ▸ 16,834 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this is representation for all the girlies out there who can't drive. not me but

ONE OF THE MOST COMMON STEREOTYPES PERPETUATED AGAINST WOMEN WAS THAT THEY WERE DEEMED TERRIBLE DRIVERS. 

That, or they just flat-out couldn’t drive to save their lives. 

This sexist notion dated back to when the automobile was created, when driving was physically demanding work and men insisted they handled operating the vehicles themselves. Now, though, plenty of women drove just fine, but misogyny was the only thing keeping the stereotype relevant. 

After all, the only reason why women were considered “bad drivers” was because a man decided they were.

Screw all the women who revolutionized the automobile industry, right? Despite them being highly discouraged to take on the labor required of men, it was Bertha Benz who drove the furthest in a motorized carriage than anyone else. It was Anne French who was the first woman to receive a driver’s license. It was Marget Wilcox who invented the car heater, Mary Anderson who created windshield wipers, and Hedy Lamar who designed the wireless transmission technology that made the innovation of the GPS possible.

No matter how high that glass ceiling was, even if a woman demolished and obliterated it to pieces, there would always be a man out there who would push her right back down. 

Unfortunately, you were nowhere near smashing that glass ceiling because you had failed your permit test six times. 

Yes, it was embarrassing, but you were determined to get your license. At your age, it was getting ridiculous that you had consistently failed your permit test this many times. Plus, you were getting tired of asking all of your friends for rides. You envisioned picking them up in your new car with your shiny new license, grinning smugly at the shocked looks on their faces.

“I don’t think God wants you on the road,” Wen Junhui, your best friend since middle school, said as he dropped you off at the DMV. “If you fail a seventh time, I would personally just use public transportation for the rest of my life.” 

“If a sixteen-year-old can pass it without studying, then I can pass it,” you insisted. “Plus, I read the entire manual last night.”

“Yeah, except the sixteen-year-old passed it on their first or second try, and this is your seventh.” 

“Well, seventh time’s the charm, right?” 

“Right,” he replied, doubtful. He stopped the car in front of the DMV to let you out. “Well, good luck. I’m gonna go get gas and I’ll come back for you.”

“Thanks, Jun!” you chirped. “I swear I’ll pass it this time.”

“Sure.”

“Have some faith in me, please.”

When Junhui drove away, you steeled your nerves to mentally prepare yourself—not for the test but for interacting with the DMV employees. You weren’t a fan of being verbally abused by them, especially after having them roll their eyes at you the last six times you had to tell them you failed. 

But today would be different. 

Thankfully, the DMV wasn’t too busy today. You only had to wait twenty minutes until they called your number. After handing them the proper paperwork, you were directed to the computers to take the permit test. 

Since you were an adult, you only needed to get 30 questions correct out of 36. You had learned your lesson by now, so you actually studied the handbook this time. It took a while to admit to yourself that you weren’t blessed with common sense. 

First question. Wrong. 

Second question. Wrong. 

Third question. Wrong. 

What was happening?

By the time you had gotten five questions wrong in a row, your hands were shaking. The pressure started to set back in, and you were terrified about failing this exam a seventh time. Junhui would be so disappointed if you told him you failed again. 

You felt the back of your shirt cling to your skin once the sixth question was incorrect. This was ridiculous; you had studied, but these questions were strangely specific. It was like someone at the DMV had it out for you. 

Maybe Junhui was right. Maybe God didn’t want you on the road. 

You felt like your brain had entered auto-pilot to protect yourself from the discouraging loss of your permit yet again. You clicked through the rest of the questions mindlessly, hardly thinking about anything until— 

You passed! 

The white screen flashed in your face for about a minute before you could register it properly. All you could do was blink and stare until you pinched your wrist to make sure you weren’t seeing things. 

Had you really gotten the rest of the 30 questions right after your consecutive failed attempts? You were so worked up over the six you missed that the rest felt like a blur. Maybe the problem was that you had been overthinking the test this entire time. 

“I did it,” you breathed out to the woman at the counter, still in disbelief. “I passed.” 

“Congratulations,” she replied with little enthusiasm. She turned to grab papers from her printer, stapled them together, and handed you your brand new permit. “Have a nice day now.” 

“Thank you so much,” you replied, slightly distracted as you inspected your learner’s permit with wide eyes.

You had been waiting for this day for so long, and here you were, holding the permit you had spent years trying to obtain. You could only imagine how thrilled your parents and friends would be once they found out. 

Speaking of friends, when you checked your phone, you saw that Junhui had texted you five minutes ago that he was parked outside. He probably expected you to walk out with a gloomy expression and slumped shoulders, but you had a skip in your step this time. You finally had good news for your best friend. 

“Jun!” you yelled before you even opened the door to the passenger’s seat. “Jun, Jun, Jun, Jun!”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he said sympathetically, but something about his automatic response definitely felt practiced, “you’ll get it next time.”

“No, Jun, I passed!”

His eyes went wide. “You did?!” 

“I did!” You squealed and practically jumped into the seat. Sinking back, a wide grin stretched across your face. “I finally did it.” 

“Yo, congrats.” Junhui grinned. “I guess the seventh time really is the charm, huh?” He started his car to pull out of the parking lot. “Well, now you just have to pass the driving test.” 

Your face fell.

You had been thinking about the permit test for so long that you forgot there was an actual driving component, too. 

First of all, you had never driven a vehicle in your life, not even illegally with friends. Second of all, you had terrible depth perception, which was probably not a great flaw to have if you wanted to drive. Thirdly, everything you prepared for the permit test had completely ejected from your brain. Your road sense was back to utterly clueless. 

“I’m gonna fail,” you said, defeated. “Jesus Christ, Jun, I didn’t even think about the actual driving test!”

“Relax, driving’s easy once you get the hang of it,” he replied. “What you should really be worrying about is how expensive those lessons are.” 

“How much are they?” 

“Uh, like, close to a few hundred.” 

“Total?” 

“No, per lesson.” 

“Per lesson?!” you cried. “Just for someone to tell me where to turn and brake? I can’t afford that!” 

“I’m guessing most of it is because they’re willingly sitting in a car with someone who doesn’t know shit about driving,” he explained, “but, yeah, it’s a crazy price. You do need to get that license before your permit expires, though, and you should probably get it done while you’re still here for college so you don’t run over the elementary schoolers back home.” 

You buried your face in your hands and let out a loud groan. “How am I gonna dish out hundreds of dollars? I don’t have that kind of money to spend when I have rent to pay off.” 

The corner of Junhui’s mouth lifted, more so exasperated than amused when he said, “I think I might know a guy.” 

Kwon Soonyoung. 

Junhui sent you his number after he dropped you off at your apartment. Apparently, Soonyoung was one of his good friends who also happened to have a side gig where he gave out driving lessons at a discounted price. Of course, the downside was that Soonyoung wasn’t exactly certified to teach people how to drive, but he was allegedly a good driver.

His lessons were normally for high schoolers, and he charged their parents around a hundred. For adults over the age of 21, though, he had a special offer that you couldn’t resist. 

You texted him to ask if he had any open spots for you. He took a few days to reply, but you eventually got a two-hour slot for the next week. You weren’t sure how effective his lessons would be, but you figured you would give it a shot since he was your age and giving out classes for cheap. 

When the day of your lessons rolled around, you were slightly anxious while you were waiting for him to arrive. You needed Junhui to reassure you for hours last night, promising that no, Soonyoung was not going to kidnap and murder you. He was a student at your university, actually, and he was a public health major who never had a murderous thought in his life.

soonyoung (driving instructor): i’m outside your house 

Okay, if he wasn’t a murderer, then the least he could do was not text you like one.  

After replying with an omw that autocorrected to On my way! and left you feeling very distressed that your communication sounded overly-enthusiastic, you worked up the courage to walk outside to his Honda Accord. 

“Hi,” you greeted shyly when you opened the door. “You’re Soonyoung, right?” 

Honestly, you didn’t care if he was Soonyoung or not. The man sitting in the driver’s seat was probably one of the most attractive people you had ever laid eyes on. Even if he wasn’t Kwon Soonyoung, you would happily let him kidnap you. Maybe you’d even blush a little because he picked you of all people to kidnap. 

He turned to look at you, seeming a little surprised that you opened the door but smiling nevertheless. “Yeah, that’s me. You’re Y/N?” 

When you nodded, he got out of the driver’s seat and motioned for you to take it. You skirted around the car to sit inside while Soonyoung took the passenger’s seat. 

You also got a glance of his off-brand, beige Fear of God Essentials sweater that read M.I.L.F. Hunter instead. Classy. 

“So, you came to me because you didn’t wanna give up your semester’s worth of college tuition for driving lessons,” Soonyoung said with an overwhelming air of confidence. 

“Yeah, pretty much.” You huffed. “Here, I heard this was your payment.”

You handed him a paper bag, not bothering to take out the receipt from the dispensary. Inside was the King Louis XIII STIIZY pod. One gram. 

“Ah, good. You know your stuff.” 

Soonyoung hummed as he examined the box, and you were just wondering when he would get to business and start showing you the controls in his car. You were slightly overwhelmed by his impressively relaxed demeanor. Maybe it would have been better if you settled for an uptight woman in her sixties. Pretty boys were always trouble. 

“You made the right choice coming to me. I’m a much better driver than those hags from the driving schools around here,” he continued. It was like he could read your mind; it was almost terrifying. “Plus, way less likely that I’ll get a heart attack in the passenger’s seat.” 

He was a total weirdo, but he was hot, so you supposed it canceled out in some obscure, mathematical sense. 

“That’s… good to hear, I think,” you replied. “So, are you, like, good at this?”

“Are you kidding? I’m basically the Lebron of driving.”

“I see.” You nodded along, unsure. “I don’t watch football, so…” 

“He plays basketball, but close enough.”

After spending about thirty minutes explaining all of the controls—from hand signals, to the dashboard, to the indicator—Soonyoung decided it was time for you to start driving on your own. You didn’t expect to move this quickly; actually, you didn’t think you’d even start driving until your second lesson. Thankfully, you gathered most of what Soonyoung had taught you, so you mustered up the courage to press your foot on the brakes and move the gear shift into drive. 

You looked over at Soonyoung expectantly, waiting for him to give you the green light to start driving. The boy only raised a brow at you, wondering why you hadn’t started driving yet. 

“Today would be nice,” he remarked.

“Uh, should I start now?”

“Sorry, I don’t have a starting pistol for you or anything.” He made a finger gun with his hand and pretended to fire. “On your mark, get set—”

“Okay, going,” you replied quickly, flushing with embarrassment. You pressed down on the accelerator and gasped as the car lurched forward. “Sorry!”

“Slowly!” Soonyoung cried out, holding onto the ‘oh shit’ handle, which you found highly unnecessary and felt somewhat offended about. “Press down slowly—gentle.”

The next hour of your lessons was a learning curve, to say the least. In your defense, it was your very first time driving, so you didn’t know you were actually supposed to look behind you before you switched lanes. Although Soonyoung kept reminding you, his instructions kept slipping your mind because you were focusing on several things at once. 

You sucked.

You were probably honked at around eight times and flipped off twice. It was a humbling experience, really. There was only so much a DMV victim could take, so you eventually had to pull over and try not to cry while Soonyoung consoled you. 

“C’mon, you probably didn’t even do anything wrong. It’s just their road rage,” he said, trying to duck his head to get a better look at you while you had your hands covering your face. “Plus, all those assholes were driving way over the speed limit. You were the responsible one back there.”

You sniffled, sucking in a shuddering breath before you gathered your composure. It wasn’t like you to be so vulnerable in front of a stranger like this, but it was probably the nerves of your first time driving coupled with the nerves of driving (and potentially damaging) someone else’s car. 

“You’re right.” You wiped at your damp cheek. “Fuck them. They couldn’t pass a driving test if they tried.”

“Well, technically, they already have.” 

“Not helping.”

He smirked. “Are you good to keep driving? Or do you wanna wrap this session up for today?” 

“Let’s keep going.” You set the car in drive again, but you looked over at Soonyoung before you did anything else. “Thanks, by the way. I’m guessing most of your students don’t usually pull over to cry during their lesson.” 

He shrugged. “Wouldn’t say it’s happened before, but it’s not a bad thing.”

It was a good thing that you were able to hide your blush from Soonyoung. With the clearly embarrassing impression you were making on him, it would have been mortifying if he found out that he was also making you flustered. 

For the next thirty minutes, you slowly started to get more comfortable behind the wheel. Soonyoung was thankfully not overbearing as most instructors normally were, so you didn’t end up flinching every time he spoke. 

He made light conversation to make you feel at ease, which you appreciated greatly. At first, you just nodded or hummed in response, as you were too afraid to do anything but stare at the road ahead, but you eventually steeled your nerves and replied with actual words. Soonyoung was a natural conversationalist, so you didn’t have to worry about your awkward pauses or stumbling over your words. He led the conversation, sharing random tidbits of his life that you wouldn’t expect to hear from someone the first time you met them. 

Everything seemed to be going perfectly normal until Soonyoung started queuing songs to play. 

The problem wasn’t the music. The problem was that Soonyoung had stopped teaching you to drive, allowing you to fend for your life while he sat back and relaxed. You weren’t sure if normal people were able to loosen up so easily while being driven by a complete amateur. 

Soonyoung must’ve been from a different planet, you decided. Some planet out there that deemed him the Lebron of driving. 

“Uh,” you started, “aren’t you gonna tell me where to go?” 

Soonyoung opened his mouth, as if he was going to ask what you meant, but then his demeanor completely shifted. 

“Pull over to the curb,” he instructed, “now.”

“What?” Your pulse raced, and you were scared that you had fucked up somehow. You checked your mirrors to make sure you hadn’t cut anyone off or anything, but there was no one behind you. Swallowing thickly, you pulled over to the curb as best as you could and parked the car, shooting your driving instructor a nervous glance. “Did I do something wr—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Soonyoung whispered, silencing you with a wave of his hand. “This is the best part.”

Your jaw clenched as Olivia Rodrigo’s vocals were drowned out by Soonyoung’s off-key singing. This was why he wanted you to pull over? 

“I knew we weren’t perfect but I’ve never felt this way for no one!” he belted out. “C’mon, sing with me—oh, and I just can’t imagine how you could be so okay now that I’m gone!”

You folded your arms across your chest. With a reluctant sigh, you gave in and started singing along with Soonyoung. 

You weren’t exactly ready for your driving test, but after two more lessons with Soonyoung, you felt more confident about being on the road. Sure, you almost ran over a pedestrian once and drove on the wrong side of the road the other day, but at least you were capable of handling a vehicle mostly by yourself. 

There were times where you wondered if your driving lessons would be more productive with a proper instructor, not Soonyoung. He surely knew how to drive (save for when he went over the speed limit and only slowed down when he saw a cop car), but he was more focused on messing around instead of actually teaching you. You were pretty sure that he saved his proper instruction for high school students with parents, and you were just someone he liked to mess around with. 

That didn’t stop you from scheduling another lesson with him, though. It was going to be another trip to the dispensary for you.

“How’re the driving lessons going?” Junhui asked, still nose-deep in his anatomy textbook. 

The two of you were preparing for your upcoming midterms in a study room, but all you could think about was the little notification on your phone screen telling you that Soonyoung requested to follow you on Instagram. How long were you supposed to wait until you accepted his request? Would it be weird if you followed him back right away?

“I can’t parallel park, but I know all the lyrics to ‘Driver’s License’ by Olivia Rodrigo now,” you answered. “I’ve also been honked at thirteen times.”

You counted. Mostly because each honk kept you up at night, staring up at your popcorn ceiling, wondering why everyone (a driver who probably didn’t even remember your face) hated you. 

“Ah,” Junhui mused, smiling a little to himself, “so it’s going well.” 

“I wouldn’t say that,” you mumbled. “But he’s nice. He doesn’t make me feel like crying. I think my dad would make me cry.”

Your phone buzzed while Junhui started going off on a tangent about how your dad was, indeed, a scary man. (There was an incident during parent’s weekend in freshman year where your father walked into your dorm room to see Junhui sitting on your bed. Completely misunderstanding the situation, your poor friend got lectured for almost an hour.) Soonyoung’s contact name flashed across your screen, and you were itching to read his text. 

Once you and Junhui settled back into studying, you turned on your phone to check your messages.

soonyoung (driving instructor): i see you in the first floor study room soonyoung (driving instructor): come to the second floor study room for a good time

Terrifying. But you were intrigued. 

After excusing yourself for a moment, making some lame excuse about needing to use the bathroom, you slipped out of your study room to head upstairs. You realized you had never actually seen Soonyoung on campus before, so a strange feeling of excitement consumed you, making your body feel light and your chest feel giddy. 

Outside one of the study rooms, you heard echoes of laughter and conversation, which made you feel instantly nervous. You were invited, though, so you steeled your nerves and opened the door cautiously. 

“Hi,” you greeted quietly, glancing over at the three strangers before your eyes landed on Soonyoung, who grinned once he saw you. 

The four of them weren’t exactly studying. Two of them were fiddling with the flatscreen fixed to the wall, trying to connect a Nintendo Switch to it; one of them was sliding joy-cons into controllers; and Soonyoung, who had his legs kicked up on the table previously, was standing up to walk over to you. 

“You came!” His tone made it seem like he was doubtful that you’d actually show up, so you were glad to prove him wrong. “Oh, yeah, this is Seungcheol and Mingyu”—he gestured toward the two who were setting up the TV, and then he pointed at the guy with the joy-cons—“and this is Seungkwan.”

“Hey,” the three of them chorused in broken unison. 

“Wanna play Smash Bros with us?” Soonyoung asked. “Perchance.”

“You can’t just say ‘perchance,’ dude,” one of the guys setting up the TV said. 

“I think it’s applicable, Mingyu,” the other guy said, whom you now deduced was Seungcheol. “Conceivably.”

“There’s no reason for either of you to use the words ‘perchance’ or ‘conceivably’ at all,” Seungkwan chimed in. 

“Ignore them,” Soonyoung said, holding the door open wider for you before you even gave him an answer. “They’re just idiots.” 

“You’re the biggest idiot here!” Seungcheol protested. He turned to you and explained, “He’s, like, the final boss idiot.” 

Mingyu snickered. “Final idiot.”

You found yourself giggling a little, distracted by their banter as you walked inside the room and sat down in one of the empty chairs. Soonyoung slid into the one next to you, even though he was sitting next to Seungkwan earlier. You were glad that none of his friends made you feel like your presence was strange or unwelcome, but you still couldn’t help but feel awkward. 

While Soonyoung was asking Seungcheol if he had finished connecting his Switch to the TV, you pulled out your phone to text Junhui. 

y/n: i’m playing smash bros??? with soonyoung on the second floor y/n: wanna join?

jun: my anatomy midterm is in 3 days, 2 hours, and 26 minutes and all i know rn is that tissues are to wipe my tears after i fail this exam, negative feedback is all im getting back from my professor, and brain cells r what im deficient in  

y/n: ok damn i’ll take that as a no

jun: i’ll be in here for the next 3 days whenever u decide to come back 

y/n: it’ll take an hour tops y/n: pls don’t camp here for 3 whole days 

“Jun’s not coming,” you announced. 

You heard a chorus of groans. 

Great. They were all Wen Junhui fanboys. 

After Mingyu and Seungcheol finished setting up the Nintendo Switch, you watched Soonyoung and Seungkwan play the first match. Seungkwan chose Villager (which was sort of fitting for him, actually) and Soonyoung chose Donkey Kong. You honestly had no idea how Smash Bros worked, so you were completely lost while you watched their characters fly around and knock each other off the platform. 

Soonyoung was screaming at one point, threatening Seungkwan with several promises to knock him out, which never happened. Seungkwan, taking a calmer approach, focused on using several commands while Soonyoung was already jumping out of his chair and on the floor. Mingyu and Seungcheol were on the sidelines, yelling out strategies for them at random and laughing occasionally. 

The match ended with Seungkwan being victorious. Soonyoung had gotten so riled up during the game, but he took his defeat like a champ, congratulating his friend and laughing off his loss. 

You were just amused at how quickly he switched up. 

“You want a turn?” Soonyoung asked you, handing you his controller. 

You hesitated. “Uh, I’m not really good at these kinds of games.”

“I’ll help you.”

You were up against Mingyu. He was a formidable opponent at first glance, but you hoped he wasn’t as competitive as the others. Maybe he would show you mercy because it was your first time playing. 

You held the controller with stiffly-bent arms, holding it up like you were reading a map. Soonyoung didn’t laugh at you, to your relief, but he gently pushed your hands down and showed you what all of the controls were. 

You chose the pink blob named Kirby. You weren’t a gamer by any means, so you had no idea what purpose the pink blob served other than being cute. No one judged you for your selection, though, which you assumed was a good sign. 

“Don’t go easy on me,” you mumbled to Mingyu, who grinned in response. 

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

Your heart raced when the countdown started. It felt like the longest three seconds of your life, and you were starting to regret choosing Kirby, who looked harmless in comparison to Mingyu’s character: Samus. You kept telling yourself that it was okay if you lost; you knew how to handle failure since you were pretty bad at virtually everything. 

Soonyoung was cheering for your victory as soon as the match started. He was an absolute angel for doing so, but you were afraid you were going to disappoint him. 

In Mingyu’s defense, you did tell him not to go easy on you. Unfortunately, the guy really wasn’t holding back at all. In the blink of an eye, you were already astral projecting off the screen. 

“Oh,” was all you could say. 

Maybe you should have swallowed down your pride and asked Mingyu to go easy on you.

Seungcheol playfully punched his friend’s shoulder. “C’mon, dude, it’s her first time.”

“Yeah, why’re you being a dick?” Seungkwan joined in, seeming more excited over having an excuse to target Mingyu than to actually defend you.

“She told me not to go easy on her!” he exclaimed, but no one allowed the poor boy to stand up for himself. With a pout, he turned to you and said, “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize.” You laughed. “I’m just bad at this.”

“Here, I’ll help you for the next round.” Soonyoung scooted closer to you until his knee brushed against yours. You couldn’t help but feel a little hot all of a sudden, but you made no effort to move away. 

The next round started with you dropping from the revival platform. You felt like your brain went into autopilot. You just heard Soonyoung talking in your ear while his fingers kept brushing against yours, telling you which controls were best for fighting Samus. Everything was going in one ear and out the other; you were so flustered that you could hardly think straight. 

You snapped back into reality when you heard three of them screaming, and you looked over with wide eyes to see Mingyu looking shell-shocked himself. 

You won. 

Soonyoung smiled. “See? You’re a natural.”

“No, it was all you,” you replied, shaking your head. It really was all thanks to Soonyoung because you had no idea what the hell you did. “It was probably just beginner’s luck.”

But, even so, a smile tugged at your lips, and you felt elated from your triumph. You thought back to Soonyoung’s hands brushing against yours, nearly swamping yours in comparison, and your chest felt a little warm. 

A little too warm. 

You put a pause on driving for a week and a half, informing Soonyoung that you had to focus on midterms before you could think about your driving lessons. Both caused you extreme distress, so you needed to cut one out temporarily.

Junhui really did camp out in the library for three entire days. You brought him food every day and forced him to go back to his apartment to take a shower. When you watched over his study room for him, Soonyoung would swing by and ask how you were doing. 

Brief interactions, but they were nice. 

You managed to get through your midterms without a single cry session in a bathroom stall. It was honestly a bigger success than your first Smash Bros win. 

Soonyoung and you grew a little closer. Two weeks ago, if someone told you that you would be FaceTiming your driving instructor every night before bed, you wouldn’t believe them for a second. Mostly because you assumed you would get a driving instructor who was pushing retirement age, and video calling someone that old at night sounded a little concerning and borderline adulterous.

You learned a lot about him. His go-to breakfast or midnight snack was Frosted Flakes, and he felt a little empty inside if there wasn’t a box of the cereal in his cabinet. He was loud most of the time, but he often got shy or quiet in loud settings; it was highly dependent on the crowd he was with. His love language was sending you pictures of cute animals and saying it was you two. (You also didn’t like calling this a “love language” because that implied there was something deeper than platonic feelings, which you were too afraid to come to terms with.)

“You have to start driving again now that your midterms are over,” Soonyoung said over the phone one night. He was sulking while you were doing your skincare routine, keeping your phone propped up on your desk. “You’re gonna start forgetting what you learned, and then we’re gonna be back to square one.”

He was (slightly) high tonight and you were the first person he called.

You were pretty sure that had to mean something. Unfortunately, you were too guarded to connect the pieces that were laid out perfectly for you.

“You just miss me, huh?” you joked. 

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

Nothing could have prepared you for that response. 

You felt your cheeks burn, and you had to physically turn around to hide whatever expression was betraying you. You pretended to examine something behind you, but there was clearly nothing there, so you just looked like an idiot. 

You didn’t know what you were feeling. There was a clear difference in your emotions when you spoke to Soonyoung versus when you spoke to his friends. 

You didn’t want to compare Soonyoung to Junhui, who you knew since middle school, but you knew that you didn’t feel anything funny in your chest when you interacted with Seungcheol, Seungkwan, or Mingyu. They were great to be around, of course, but it was only Soonyoung who made you walk with a little skip in your step.

You hadn’t had a proper crush in years. Now, you felt like you were overthinking everything and analyzing every little interaction that could possibly be meaningless. 

It had only been a few weeks, but you supposed there was no exact timeline for these sorts of things—whatever this thing was. 

Whatever it was, though, you were in danger.

“Tomorrow, then,” you said once you regained a sliver of your composure. “Pick me up after your classes.”

“Sure.” He rested his chin in his palm, staring at you with an amused expression. “I’ll bring flowers.”

Possible Ways To Respond: 1. “You’re too sweet! Thank you.” 2. “Flowers? What’s the occasion?” 3. “Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special, huh?” 

You went with a secret fourth option.

“Please don’t. I’m allergic.”

True to his word, Soonyoung picked you up after his classes the next day. 

You were pretty sure your lessons had gone over the regular quota, so you stopped by at the dispensary earlier to pick up another pod for Soonyoung. He didn’t look as though he was expecting anything when you got in the driver’s seat, though. In fact, he was perplexed when you handed him the paper bag. 

“What’s this?” he asked, growing sheepish. 

“Your payment,” you replied. “Also, I sort of lied about being allergic to flowers. I’m not allergic to flowers. I don’t know why I said that. I’m allergic to penicillin, though, but I don’t think that sounds remotely close to ‘flowers.’ Maybe I got confused? I don’t know.”

If this was an otome game, you had surely picked the bad relationship ending. Soonyoung’s face fell a little—just enough for you to notice—and you immediately felt guilt swallowing you whole. You meant for your words to sound lighthearted, but maybe they didn’t come across that way. 

But, at the same time, you didn’t know where you stood. Wouldn’t it have been unfair to not repay Soonyoung for the lessons? Was it unreasonable that you weren’t actually expecting him to bring you flowers for no reason?

Soonyoung recovered quickly, though, his smiling eyes crinkling at the corners. “So I can bring you flowers.”

“Hypothetically, you could.”

“But you don’t have to pay me anymore.” He looked into the paper bag, examining the STIIZY pod before scoffing. “If I keep stocking up on these, people are gonna think I’m a stoner.” 

“Well, I have to pay you for the lessons somehow,” you said. “So, if you don’t want the pods anymore, then I’ll have to start sending you money. I mean, what about gas?”

“You don’t have to worry about my gas tank.” He chuckled at your words and sat back to get comfortable. “What you should worry about is not hitting the curb.”

You flushed hotly. “Right.”

The first hour went smoothly. Soonyoung was impressed that you were gradually getting more and more comfortable behind the wheel, and he even congratulated you for changing lanes without muttering prayers under your breath. You were beginning to feel less overwhelmed with everything you were supposed to focus on, and you were certain that you were so close to everything clicking at once. 

That was, until a car crashed right into you on a local road. 

Thankfully, you and the other driver weren’t going too fast, but the force was sure to leave a dent in Soonyoung’s car. The collision wasn’t hard, by any means, but the impact jerked your body forward so that your mouth hit the steering wheel. The sting of pain radiated throughout your gums seconds later, and you winced and cradled your jaw. 

You immediately bubbled with rage as you pulled over to the curb, knowing that you had the right of way and he was supposed to stop and wait for you to pass, but you were still stiff with shock. Soonyoung’s eyes were fierce, looking back at the driver as if he was about to cuss him out, but then he turned his attention to you.

Before you could feel immense, crushing guilt over crashing Soonyoung’s car, you whipped your head around to make sure he wasn’t hurt. You wouldn’t be surprised if he completely ghosted you after this. You were probably the worst student he had ever come across, which was saying a lot considering most of his students were high school teenagers. 

“Y/N, are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asked, sounding as frantic as his hands were. You felt his palm against your cheek and his other hand atop your head, making sure you weren’t hurt anywhere. 

“Are you okay?” you blurted out. Your breathing was erratic, and you hardly registered the metallic taste of blood in your mouth. “Oh god. Your car. Oh god, I—” 

“It’s okay, Y/N, it’s not your fault,” he said. “You had the right of—” 

When he turned to look at you again, he just stared, eyes wide and jaw hanging open—almost comically. It almost looked like he was more bewildered by you than the fact that his car was rammed into by another car. 

He was wordless for far too long that you had to ask, “Everything okay?” 

Maybe that was a stupid question. Clearly, everything wasn’t okay, and it had everything to do with the fact that you two had gotten into a car crash.

“I think you loth a tooth,” he lisped—a seemingly joking remark, but his expression was dead serious.

For a split second, a laugh bubbled up in your mouth. You thought Soonyoung must have been messing with you, but it was ridiculous that he could joke around in such a situation. It was when you touched your lip and pulled your hand back to see blood, though, that cold reality washed over you.

Your eyes went wide as saucers as you turned to examine your teeth in the rear-view mirror. 

The worst possible thing that could happen to a woman was happening to you right now. 

Your front left tooth was gone. 

“I-it’s not that bad,” Soonyoung tried, although he sounded unconvinced himself. “It’s cute! It’s like, uh, that dragon—from, uh… How to Train Your Dragon.” 

Your eyes were burning and your throat was closing up, but tonguing the bloodied gap between your teeth sent you over the edge. You had tears streaming down your cheeks and you were gripping the wheel so hard that your knuckles turned pale.

“Toothleth?” you cried, which led to a few choked sobs when you realized that you had a lisp now. Then, you were full-on crying into your hands because sure, you could get over being the reason why Soonyoung’s car had a dent in it, but you were pretty sure there was no replacing a missing tooth. The more you cried, though, the worse you felt as you tasted the blood and heard the faint whistles coming from the gap in your teeth. “I’m tho thupid!” 

Soonyoung was clearly short-circuiting, but you could tell he was desperate to calm you down by the way he was rubbing your back in soothing circles. “Y/N, you’re not stupid. It's okay, we just—”

“Thoonyoung!”

Soonyoung slapped his hand over his mouth to suppress his laughter. He was trying to take you seriously, but the little bursts of laughter that bubbled up in his throat were betraying him. 

You swallowed down your sob and continued, “Ith not okay! I loth my tooth!” 

“Okay, no more talking,” he ordered. “I know you’re very hurt right now, but you’re gonna feel even worse if I start laughing at your lisp, so don’t make this harder for me.” 

You scowled at him, but you kept your mouth shut because Soonyoung was right; you were not in the proper headspace to be laughed at right now. 

“Okay, I’m gonna go outside and talk to the driver who ran into us,” he explained slowly. “I want you to calm your breathing and find your missing tooth. We can drive to the dentist right after, okay?” 

You sniffled and nodded, craning your neck to watch Soonyoung get out of the car to talk to the driver. Then, you sucked in a sharp breath and examined the floor to find your loose tooth. Lo and behold, it was laying next to the gas pedal. You cringed as you picked it up, frowning at how bloody it was in your palm. There were a few napkins in Soonyoung’s glove compartment, so you wrapped your tooth in one and kept it in your pocket.

You heard some yelling from the other driver—something about having kids in the back and how you were going way too fast—and it all just made you feel worse. You felt horrible that Soonyoung had to deal with the repercussions, and after they exchanged insurances and the guy drove off, you got out of the car to see the damage. 

Surely enough, there was a decent-sized dent in the side of his car. It was right where the back door opened, and you burst into tears at the sight of it. Soonyoung wouldn’t have to deal with all of this if he wasn’t teaching you to drive.  

Still, he wrapped his arms around your shaking body and pulled you in close. He rested his chin on top of your head and sighed. 

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “The insurance will cover the damage. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“What about my tooth?”

“Okay, maybe there’s one thing to worry about.”

You leaned into his touch when you felt his hand carding through your hair. His motions were slow and gentle, as if he was trying hard to make sure you didn’t notice the gesture. You did, though, and you appreciated it. 

You started, “I’m—”

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” he interrupted. You thought he was going to say something cheesy about how you had nothing to apologize for, but he continued, “You’re gonna say thorry, and I’m not gonna be able to take you seriously.”

With your face buried in his chest, you reached your hand out to punch his shoulder. 

Still, despite his snarky comment and the emotional distress you were experiencing over your missing tooth, a big smile crossed your face and his embrace left a warm, fluttery feeling in your stomach. 

Your heart was beating so fast that you almost thought it would stop. 

“Ew,” was Wen Junhui’s first reaction upon seeing your swollen lip. You could only see the top half of his face over FaceTime, but you were sure he had a look of disgust on. “You look terrible.”

“Thanks,” you replied dryly, holding an ice pack to your cheek. 

Before Soonyoung drove you to a dentist, he scolded you for leaving your tooth wrapped up in a tissue. Apparently, your tooth was going to be fucked if it dried up, so his solution was to leave it in his half-empty water bottle that was left sitting in his car. You weren’t quite sure about this, but the dentist informed you that Soonyoung saved your front tooth. 

If he was with you in the room, you probably could’ve kissed him then and there—bloody mouth and all.

Thankfully, since you didn’t fracture or break any part of the tooth, the dentists were able to replant it into your gums without any complications. They told you it was a good thing you went straight to the dentist instead of waiting. Your front tooth would’ve been a lost cause if you waited another hour. 

It was really all thanks to Soonyoung. 

The procedure was quick and you were told that your avulsed tooth would be back to normal in about a week. The news filled you with relief because you were so sure you were going to be toothless for the rest of your life. 

Not that it was a bad thing. While Soonyoung was driving you to the dentist prior to the replantation, you had come to terms with the fact that you would be missing a front tooth for the rest of your life. You would grow old and tell your children the harrowing tale of how you got your driver’s license and sacrificed your front tooth for it. 

It couldn’t be all that horrible. Maybe you would grow an affinity for whistling.

Thankfully, that was all just your overthinking and your tooth was probably fine now. In seven days, everything was supposed to go back to normal, so you had your fingers crossed for a full recovery. 

“Of course that would happen to you.” Junhui laughed at your misery. “Shit like this only happens to you.”

“Yeah, I get it. I’m the pinnacle of terrible luck.”

“So, what happened after? Did you make out with Soonyoung or something?” 

“No!” you exclaimed. Your cheeks started to burn just at the thought. “How do you expect me to make out with someone when I look like this? Soonyoung drove me home like a gentleman. He’s not into me like that.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes. “I don’t think I’ll be seeing him for a while, anyway. I don’t wanna start driving again until my tooth is fine.”

“Then maybe you can go on a different kind of ride with him instead.”

“You need to stop.”

You didn’t see Soonyoung much over the next week. He told you that he had a few papers to finish before his schedule would clear up, so you were only able to text him occasionally and see him in passing, exchanging a greeting before one of you had to go. 

You saw his friends a lot, though. They were always in the study room next to the one you and Junhui liked to use, so you would stop by their room often to see what they were up to. They were usually either messing around or using the whiteboard for everything but its intended purpose, so you enjoyed taking study breaks with them. Junhui was the type to not take breaks because he was locked in on his work once he got in the zone, so Soonyoung’s friends were a breath of fresh air. 

Your Current Opinions on Soonyoung’s Friends:

Mingyu: Kind. Approached you whenever he saw you. Pleasant conversations. Swiped up on your Snapchat stories sometimes. Was unfortunately the only person you forgot to block from your story once when you posted a semi-thirst trap just for Soonyoung’s eyes.

Seungcheol: Friendly whenever he talked to you. A little awkward because you once saw him taking selfies at the gym instead of working out. 

Seungkwan: Not super buddy-buddy but sweet enough. Liked making fun of Soonyoung with you. He brought you McDonald’s once and you imagined a future with him momentarily.

Word also got around that your front tooth had been knocked out clean. Seungcheol let it slip when he accidentally referred to you as ‘Toothless’ the other day. You made a mental note to kill Soonyoung later.

The next time you ran into your driving instructor on campus was outside one of your lecture halls. You walked out in the middle of class to fill up your hydroflask. It was especially hot today, and you were seconds away from heat exhaustion. Soonyoung’s brows lifted in pleasant surprise once he saw you, and he missed his elevator to walk up to you.

“Whoa.” You paused for a moment, unblinking. “I keep forgetting you go here.”

“I’m the hall monitor.”

“This is college. We don’t have hall monitors.”

“Self-elected,” was his response. “Speaking of, I don’t see your bathroom pass.”

“I’m not going to the bathroom. I’m filling up my water. Anyway, why would I—”

“Just this once, I’ll let you off with a warning,” he interjected, pulling out a card from the pocket of his jeans. He handed it to you, and you accepted it after a moment of hesitation. “There’s your bathroom pass. Don’t let me catch you loitering around here again.” 

With that, Soonyoung walked off, leaving you utterly confused. 

You flipped the business card around to see his name and number printed neatly in the middle, and you frowned in response. There was some other fine text on the back, but you didn’t take the time to read it properly as you were still baffled. 

“I already have your number!” you called after him, but you just heard your driving instructor laugh to himself in response as he disappeared behind the elevator doors.

Later, after your classes ended, you went back to your study room with Junhui. He had been in the library since morning, deciding to skip his classes to prepare for his second round of midterms that he still had a few weeks for. 

You told him about your encounter with Soonyoung, noting how strange it was that he casually had business cards on hand. Junhui asked to see the card, so you handed it over to him. 

Upon closer inspection, Junhui raised his eyebrows, impressed. “Hall monitor rizz.”

“How was that rizz? He told me it was a bathroom pass and left.”

“Well, I’d consider it rizz since he’s asking you out on a date.”

Heat rose to your cheeks. “You think he’s asking me out on a date?” 

“No, I know he’s asking you out on a date.” Junhui flipped Soonyoung’s business card around to show you the fine print: Schedule our first date with the number provided on the other side of this card. The corner of his mouth lifted. “Says it right here. He’s just shy, Y/N.”

“Shy? Him? He doesn’t look like the shy type.”

“He’s shy,” he affirmed, “around you, at least. I mean, you’d get shy around the person you liked, wouldn’t you?” 

“I guess, but…” you trailed off, shaking your head. “No, this is normal, right? Dates are normal. We’re just two normal adults going on a normal date. Nothing weird about that, right? I shouldn’t feel so weird about this. Do I sound weird? Am I weird?”

You didn’t realize you had gotten up and started pacing until you turned to see Junhui looking at you with concern hanging in his brows. You sucked in a sharp breath and sank back into your seat, burying your face in your hands. 

“I’m in way over my head,” you mumbled. 

“You’re nervous ‘cause you have a crush on him,” he replied. “Nothing weird about that.”

“I have a crush on him,” you echoed, more so to yourself than to Junhui. 

Although you were partly in denial, still tossing and turning the prospect of crushing on Soonyoung around in your head, Junhui took your words as confirmation. He hummed knowingly and turned back to his textbook, leaving you to ruminate for the next thirty minutes in silence before you excused yourself. 

You were currently speed walking to your usual bus stop, hoping you would be able to stop thinking about Soonyoung and the business card tucked into your pocket. However, you couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of you developing a tiny crush on him. 

You hadn’t had a proper crush in ages. The last time you had strong feelings for someone was in high school, which promptly ended following your first date—after an eight month talking stage. You proposed going to the fair, which seemed fine until you threw up on the ferris wheel and received an ‘I don’t think this is going to work out’ text later that night. 

And why were you so flustered over this, anyway? After all, you had been anticipating the day Soonyoung would make the first move. Plus, you were an adult; overthinking your feelings like this was so high school. 

Whatever. You had nothing to lose.

You pulled out your phone to text Soonyoung, a small smile crossing your face once you caught sight of his profile picture again. It was a picture of him with all his hair flying every which way in the wind and his mouth open to yell some profanity. 

y/n: date. y/n: this week any day 

soonyoung (driving instructor): WHOA!!!!!!

y/n: what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day

soonyoung (driving instructor): tomorrow night

y/n: okay

soonyoung (driving instructor): okay

y/n: okay.

soonyoung (driving instructor): okay. soonyoung (driving instructor): can’t wait

y/n: me neither

soonyoung (driving instructor): pick you up at 8

y/n: i’ll be ready

soonyoung (driving instructor): i’ll be even more ready

Your heart didn’t stop pounding for the rest of the day.

To be a woman was to perform. 

You were currently performing an illegal U-turn. 

Soonyoung held onto the ‘oh shit’ handle fixed to the ceiling, his face contorted in absolute fear as he repeated, “Wrong lane, wrong lane, wrong lane, wrong lane, wrong lane—”

“Sorry!” you exclaimed, swerving back into your correct lane after checking your mirrors. You swallowed thickly before saying, “I’ve got it under control now, I think.”

Of course, you had been nervous the entire day and a half leading up to your date with Soonyoung, but how you felt right now had completely reigned over every emotion you were feeling before. 

Throughout the day, you had butterflies in your stomach and a little skip to your step, but now you were terrified of things you had never even worried about before. The reason you took a U-turn in the first place was because Soonyoung told you that you missed the parking lot entrance, causing you to panic in the middle of the road (which, on your part, was not very smart.) 

In short, Soonyoung should not have let you take the wheel, and you should not have gotten this worked up over him planning to take you to the local fair. 

What were the odds that you were back in the place where you had an awful last date? You could almost feel the bile rising up your throat.

Soonyoung’s voice was unnaturally high-pitched when he asked, “A-are you sure you’re ready to schedule that driving test?” 

“Yes! I’m ready,” you said, “but, to make things clear, my driving today is not representative of my driving any other day.”

Somehow, you and Soonyoung wound up making it to the fairgrounds’ parking lot in one piece. You deflated upon hearing the sigh of relief escape Soonyoung’s lips once the car was in park, but it was well deserved. You were surprised he even let you drive in the first place. 

The fairgrounds were packed with people—mostly students—so there were several couples going around with their fingers interlocked. You were now hyper-aware of your fingertips, wondering if you’d get the chance to brush them against Soonyoung’s and slowly slide your hand into his. 

He ended up paying for your ticket, and you didn’t have much room to argue about it because the employee was already taking his card before you even noticed. You told Soonyoung you would pay for something else—food, rides, raffle tickets—but he ended up covering everything for you. Of course, you were sure Junhui would have scolded you because turning down a guy paying for you was apparently equivalent to turning down the guy himself. So, you swallowed your pride and let Soonyoung take the lead. 

You went on a few rides with Soonyoung, shared a churro, and you took a picture in front of the ferris wheel. You were having a great time, actually, and almost all of your nerves had all but melted away. All that was left to deem this a perfect date was to actually ride the ferris wheel, which was exactly what you were absolutely terrified of. 

“Not good with heights?” Soonyoung asked as you two were getting into the seat, pulling down the lap bar for you two. 

You wondered if you looked as ghastly as you felt. “Not so much.”

You weren’t good with a lot of things, to be fair.

Smooth talker Soonyoung took that as his opportunity to slip his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together with a shy smile on his face. “You can close your eyes if it gets scary, or just keep looking at me.”

Honestly, that sounded scarier than the possibility of plummeting to your death from the top of the ferris wheel. You weren’t sure your heart could handle staring at Soonyoung, especially with how flustered his gaze made you feel. 

“Hey, could I ask you something?” you asked, nearly shying away when Soonyoung fixed his gaze on you. “When did you start liking me? I mean, I had no idea.”

“Uh…” The ride started moving backward as Soonyoung hummed in thought. “Probably that first time you were in my car?”

Your eyes went wide. “You mean our very first lesson?”

“Yeah, I thought you were cute—a little weird, but cute.” He grinned. “I think it was when you fell asleep over FaceTime that one night when I started catching feelings.”

Your cheeks burned. You weren’t sure if you could pinpoint a specific moment like he did; you just remembered your heart started beating faster when you saw him one day, and the rest was history. It was almost incredible how blindsided you were by his feelings, even though he had integrated himself into your daily life so naturally.

“And then you posted that one picture on your story once,” he continued, voice growing shy once he realized what he admitted out loud, “and that was when I knew I was really in too deep.”

You blanched with embarrassment. He must have been talking about the thirst trap because that was the only time you ever posted yourself so confidently. How were you going to explain that you blocked everyone else from your Snapchat story just for him to see that?

A nervous laugh bubbled from your lips. “About that—”

Before you could get any other words out, though, you became painfully aware of your surroundings. Your seat started swinging with the strong winds, and you realized that you were at the very top. If you leaned over enough, you were pretty sure your seat would tip over and drop you and Soonyoung right out. The very thought paralyzed you to the core. 

Just as Soonyoung was in the middle of asking if you were okay, the ferris wheel started moving faster, and you yelped and clung onto him as you two went down. You were fine with the slow pace with breaks in between, but now that you were moving at full speed in one go, it was downright terrifying. 

Soonyoung seemed to find it hilarious, though. He laughed and wrapped an arm around you while you were the very picture of fear. You buried your face into his chest and dug your nails in so hard that you were afraid he would feel them through his sweater. 

Finally, it came to a stop. The ride operator started letting people out one seat at a time, but you and Soonyoung had ended up at the very top again. You raised your head to sit upright again, letting out an exasperated breath, but Soonyoung drew you closer. He was still laughing, and it made you blush uncontrollably. 

“Just so you know, I’m good with any other ride!” you tried to defend yourself. “Well, actually, save for roller coasters and drop towers… oh, and—”

“Y/N,” Soonyoung cut you off with a smile, his voice hardly a murmur. Before, you could barely hear him over the excited cries and shouts in the fair, but now your attention had zeroed in on him. You felt disoriented as he placed his warm hand on your cheek, tilting his head and leaning in. “C’mere.”

You were too shy to admit it, but you had fantasized about making out with Soonyoung before. Of course, you never knew what type of kisser he was, so you just settled for whatever fantasy played out in your head.

Now, though, with his lips pressed against yours, you felt something hot and needy stir up inside you as he tugged you impossibly close to his body. Your stomach fluttered when you let slip a whimper, which Soonyoung didn’t let go unnoticed. He pulled back for a moment, his gaze darkening, promising to return to that later, and he returned to kissing you. 

When you were almost near the ground, you and Soonyoung pulled away. There were definitely far too many children and parents around for you two to be kissing like that, but now you were anticipating how things would be once you two were alone. 

“You two have fun?” the ride operator, who appeared to be an older teenager, asked with a teasing lilt to his voice. 

All you could do was nod and duck your head in embarrassment while Soonyoung beamed brighter than the flashing lights. 

You spent some more time with Soonyoung on a few more (tamer) rides before you two decided to call it a day. Your feet were getting sore, so he courteously offered to drive the both of you home. However, you had an itching feeling that he just didn’t want you behind the wheel again. 

“Wanna get something to eat?” he asked once you both were inside the car, and he turned his head around as he reversed. “There’s a good froyo place down the street.”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” you agreed quickly. Deep down, you were hoping this date wouldn’t end just yet.

Soonyoung played Olivia Rodrigo’s new album as he drove, rolling the window down so that the wind tousled his hair. You thought he looked cute that way, and you had to keep your hand under your thigh to keep it from reaching over and running it through his locks. 

When he parked in front of the froyo place, it appeared completely dark inside. It was also evidently clear that the only cars parked in the lot were the overflow crowd of people from the fair who couldn’t get a parking spot at the fairgrounds. 

“Did we miss it?” He frowned, pausing to look up the store hours on his iPhone. “Man. I didn’t want our date to end like this.”

“I don’t want it to end, either.”

Soonyoung looked over at you, studying your expression carefully before asking, “Do you wanna chill in the back for a while, then?”

You knew what that meant. And you had specifically worn your matching lingerie set just for this moment. 

You unlatched your seatbelt, and Soonyoung followed suit right after. “Yeah, I’m down.” 

“Wait, there’s something I need to do first,” Soonyoung said in a soft voice, looking down at you with gentle eyes. 

For a moment, your heart jumped to your throat. The way he was looking at you sent butterflies to your stomach, and you couldn’t even imagine what he was going to do next. Something about his tone was so sincere that you were sure he was going to kiss you, especially when he started leaning down. 

You let your eyes flutter shut, waiting for his soft lips to meet yours. Your heartbeat felt like a drum in your ears. 

But nothing happened. No kiss. Nothing. 

You opened your eyes to see what Soonyoung was doing. When you saw him hunched over, fiddling with something near his ankles, your face deadpanned—not a flicker of amusement. 

Soonyoung had put his Crocs in sports mode. 

First of all, wearing Crocs on the first date was absurd.

Second of all, putting your Crocs in sports mode on the first date was absolutely preposterous. 

Yet, it was the perfect thing Soonyoung had done to put your nerves completely at ease. You ended up bursting into laughter at the very sight, making his head shoot up while his eyebrows were drawn together, perplexed. However, he happened to hit his head on the steering wheel as he did so, which only made you laugh even harder. 

Your sudden surge of confidence spurred you to crawl over the gear stick and straddle his lap. Shocked, Soonyoung gripped your thighs and straightened up. Before his lip could curl up in amusement, you wrapped your arms around his neck and slotted your lips with his. 

He broke for air for a moment, breathing out, “Well, hi.”

“Hi.” Your nose gently bumped against his. “Having second thoughts?” 

“No!” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands up and down your sides. “I just didn’t wanna start anything because I wasn’t sure if you were ready.” He threw a glance over his shoulder before looking out the window. “Plus, this place isn’t exactly private.” 

You looked out the window while Soonyoung’s warm hands returned to your thighs. It was true that there were empty cars around, but there weren’t any people in sight. It was still early in the night, so you were sure people would stay at the fairgrounds until midnight. 

“Hey,” Soonyoung started again, “what was that you were gonna say on the ferris wheel? Before we, uh, made out.” 

“Oh.” Shame bubbled in your chest when you realized what he was talking about. “Nothing important.”

“Tell me.”

Moonlight shone in from the window, illuminating the side of Soonyoung’s face and his neck, showing off his prominent collarbones. His low voice reached your core in a way you had never experienced before. You flushed with embarrassment because you were certain Soonyoung could feel how you clenched. 

You looked out the window, as if you could mentally escape through it. Find a way to get out of the situation you were in. 

“Fine.” He huffed lightly before placing a hand behind your neck and drawing you closer. “I’ll just get it out of you, then.”

Notably flustered, you gasped when Soonyoung’s lips latched onto the side of your neck, biting and sucking the tender skin. You croaked out some lame lie about forgetting what you were trying to say, but Soonyoung persisted. He ravaged the column of your neck like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. 

You scooted up on his lap, sitting right on top of his growing bulge, which roused a throaty groan from him. You could feel Soonyoung twitch under you, and it was all that was needed for you to start grinding your hips slowly on his lap. And then he started guiding your hips down onto him. Your breath hitched when you felt his fingers dig into the grooves of your hips to take control of your motions. 

“Tell me,” he beseeched, and you shivered when you could feel his smile against your jawline.

You let out a whine. “It’s embarrassing.” 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, distracted as he looked up at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. His hands never left your hips as he watched you grind down on his lap. Soonyoung’s eyes were unfocused for a moment before clarity bled back into him. “It was about the Snapchat story, right? That one picture you posted.” 

“I don’t remember what that was,” you attempted to lie smoothly, but you were pretty sure your expression betrayed you once Soonyoung slid a hand under your shirt to cup your chest. 

“Yeah, you do. The one where you were wearing those thigh-high stockings.” You saw a flash of darkness in his eyes. “Can’t believe everyone got to see you like that.”

“I wouldn’t say everyone,” you muttered. 

“Hm?”

His thumb, after his hand managed to creep under your bra, found purchase on your nipple, rolling and circling around the supple flesh as he pleased. You only managed to let out a cry before Soonyoung was pressing you further, ordering you to answer him before he made you fall apart. 

You were so caught up in your own pleasure, practically chest-to-chest with Soonyoung, that you hardly noticed the knock on the window until Soonyoung jolted upright and straightened his back. 

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, voice still thick with lust that was ebbing away. Thankfully, you both were still mostly clothed, but Soonyoung had his pants nearly down and you had your shirt riding up past your waist.

The officer stopped knocking to give Soonyoung the opportunity to roll the window down after he was decent. It was evidently an uncomfortable situation for both parties. You turned your head to the side, screwing your eyes shut and hoping you would blink out of existence if you tried hard enough. You never thought you would have a cop at your window before even getting your license. 

“Hi,” he greeted sheepishly once the window was down. “Sorry, we’ll get going now.”

“Yeah, uh…” The officer trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with a long-winded sigh. “I’ll let you off with a warning this time, but keep it in the bedroom, please.”

“Thanks…” Soonyoung trailed off, looking for some sort of identification tag. 

“Officer Hong,” he answered flatly. 

“Thanks, Officer Hong.”

“Don’t let me catch you two again.”

“Oh, probably not me, but once she gets her license then it’s over for—ow!” Soonyoung yelped when you pinched him in the side, effectively shutting him up. He immediately apologized, “Sorry, Officer Hong, it won’t happen again.”

The encounter with the police officer was awkward, yes, but somehow, Soonyoung was unfazed once you two had gotten off with the warning. He coolly looked up at you and asked if he could come over to your place tonight. You agreed, of course.

The drive home was perfectly fine. Soonyoung made sure you weren’t too startled by the officer and asked how you liked the fair. You thought it was all pleasant conversation that would continue once you were in your living room, but Soonyoung pinned you up against your front door as soon as you were inside. 

His strong arms caged you in his hold, and you could only helplessly look up at him and warble out some pathetic question, asking if he wanted water or snacks. He turned the offer down, obviously. 

Since you two had already gotten this far, you figured you might as well let Soonyoung in on your little secret. Although it was slightly humiliating to admit, you realized tonight that far more embarrassing things had happened to you. 

“You really wanna know, don’t you?” When he nodded in response, you sighed and explained, “What I posted on my story… I blocked everyone else so that only you’d see it.”

Well, him and Mingyu, but the latter was purely accidental. 

Hearing your words flipped a switch in Soonyoung and he completely froze up, as if he had stopped functioning altogether.

“Well, technically, you and Mingyu,” you rambled on, “but that’s only because I forgot to block him from my story. You know, I have, like, two hundred people on Snapchat, so I figured I’d accidentally skip over someone, anyway. But I don’t think he even paid any attention to it. I feel like he’d—”

He cut you off by sealing his lips over yours, and all the noise in your head simmered down. All the fluff filling up your brain billowed and sank back down. You remembered when you were a middle schooler, giggling and replaying the scenes in movies that were exactly like this. Now that you were actually living in it, though, you couldn’t get enough of Soonyoung. 

He broke away for a breather, lips hanging barely an inch from yours and your foreheads touching. His heavily-lidded eyes found yours, gazing at you longingly through his lashes. 

“No offense,” he started with a smirk, “but I don’t really care about Mingyu right now.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but you shut it as soon as you realized that you had nothing intelligent to contribute. You recognized that most of your mindless ramblings probably killed the mood—for you, at least.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, then the side of your neck. As he moved down to your chest, Soonyoung’s kisses grew sloppier and open-mouthed. He tugged at your shirt, and you helped him remove it with ease, snapping your bra off in the process and letting it fall to the floor. His hungry gaze upon seeing you bare before him made you ache for more. Soonyoung let out a groan and let his tongue drag over your nipple, circling and flicking around the sensitive skin until you were moaning shamelessly.

With his head ducked so that his lips could ravage your chest, Soonyoung bent down just a little bit more to wrap his arms around your thighs. He scooped you up in his arms swiftly, making you yelp, and he walked you to your bedroom after you whispered where your room was. He was so strong that you hardly had to hold onto him, but his strength was a double-edged sword because he had you pinned down on your bed in seconds. 

A grin crossed Soonyoung’s face as his lips returned to your chest. This time, his lips made their way down your body, to your stomach. You curled your hand in his hair, tugged hard because you wanted more, but Soonyoung was relentless with his teasing. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses that made you squirm under him and ache for more. They were slow and torturous, and you only grew more needy as he made his way down. 

“Can I take these off?” he asked, fingers slipping into the waistband of your pants. 

“Only if you take your clothes off, too.”

You heard him chuckle before you felt cold air starting to hit your bare skin. Soonyoung unzipped your pants and tugged them down your legs until they were bunched up at your ankles, which you struggled to kick off until he bent down to move the fabric off your heel. You shuddered when he snapped the band of your underwear, hooking his fingers at the sides and twisting the fabric. He sure was enjoying toying with you, and you weren’t sure you could handle any more teasing. After what felt like forever, Soonyoung pulled the last of your undergarments down and marveled at your bare body.

“You’re unbelievable,” he all but growled, running his hands down your sides, to your hips, and past your thighs. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this.”

You sat up, looking up at him with a pout, which only seemed to drive Soonyoung to the brink of madness. 

“You’re still clothed,” you observed.

“Yes.”

“Take it off.” You folded your arms across your chest. “I can’t be the only one naked.”

“Whatever you say, princess,” he replied with a laugh. You supposed he could see your expression falter, nearly letting some pathetic sound fall from your lips, so Soonyoung cooed at you and ran his thumb over your lower lip. “Oh, you like that? Like it when I call you princess?”

You did like it. You liked it too much for your own good, and it was almost humiliating.

Soonyoung towered over you as he peeled off his shirt, grabbing it from the nape of his neck and slipping it off in seconds. Your eyes ran over his beautiful expanse of skin, from every defined muscle in his abdomen to the little goosebumps that pricked his arms. You reached out to run your fingers down his abs, letting them trace each groove and dip in muscle. Soonyoung shivered at your very touch, but he allowed you to make your way down to undo his belt and pants. 

Your fingers were fumbling, but you managed to remove the latch after several failed attempts. He guided you with his steadier hands, but you were determined to do it yourself. Finally, you pulled his belt free and pushed his pants down his legs. 

He seemed to be slightly embarrassed, but Soonyoung was already rock hard. His cock sprang up so that the tip pushed past the waistband of his boxers. 

“Don’t worry about that,” he grumbled, sinking to his knees and placing his hands on your thighs. “I’ll take care of you first.”

He grabbed your knees and pushed them apart, staring at your soaked cunt like it was everything he ever wanted. Soft kisses peppered the inside of your thighs, working up to the apex of your legs. You felt the cold air hit your core and shivered, but then it was hot all over again once Soonyoung licked one long, slow stripe that made you writhe and cry out in bliss. He had to press your hips down to keep you from moving too much. 

But his movements were so slow and torturous. You were going insane by how much Soonyoung was teasing you with his kitten licks and lazy drags of tongue. Tears welled up in your eyes by the time you had been edged away from another impending orgasm, with him letting his dissolve as soon as the heat bloomed under your skin. 

Kissing your cunt. Plunging his tongue into your core. Licking at your walls until they trembled and shook with the warning of release. You were agonized by how good Soonyoung was making you feel.

“Please,” you begged, your voice breathless as your body felt lightweight, “let me cum, please.”

“Hm.” He seemed to consider it for a moment before saying, “Tell me three things you like about me, and I’ll let you cum.”

You laughed, but it died on your tongue as soon as you realized there was no amusement on his face.

“You’re kidding, right?” You swallowed hard, knowing you had your answer already. “Oh, you’re not kidding.”

He was making you work for your orgasm. This was mortifying; you never expected Soonyoung to be so cruel, and you never expected it to be so hot.

“Three things, baby,” he said. “Start with number one.”

“One,” you started, your voice shaky as Soonyoung returned to snaking his tongue past your folds, “I like how you treat me so well and look after me, like—oh, right there—yeah, like that.”

“Two,” you continued, more so in a whimper because Soonyoung was skillfully using his tongue to reach places you never thought to stimulate before. “I, ah—I like the way you look at me and when you tell me I’m beautiful.” You sucked in your teeth when you felt him press his tongue flat against your clit. “Soonyoung, please.”

“One more,” he murmured.

“T-three,” you breathed out, and by this point, your legs were already shaking. Your brain was turning to mush and you couldn’t help but clench at Soonyoung lapping at your soaked cunt. The tremor in your voice was unmistakable when you admitted, “I love how you’re so much better at this than I ever could’ve imagined.”

He breathed out a laugh against your cunt. “Am I really?” He tightened his grip on your hips to suck on your clit, making your back arch and your chest feel light. “You think about me that often, princess?”

“Mmhm,” you confirmed with your eyes screwed shut. “Thought about you whenever I was—”

“Don’t finish that,” he warned, though it almost sounded like he was pleading with you, “or I’ll go crazy.”

Your nerves felt like they had tangled themselves into several knots that kept tightening in your stomach. You shuddered and moaned with each motion of Soonyoung’s tongue that brought you closer to your release. He was merciless with the way he dipped his tongue in your core, rubbing your clit with his thumb in slow circles.

Your walls tightened one last time before you were finally blinded by your white-hot orgasm, and you hardly even realized that hot tears were streaming down your cheeks. Soonyoung was eating you out unabated, not even giving you a break between each wave of pleasure that hit you. After your climax subsided and coherency gradually bled back into you, Soonyoung finally pulled back and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

You grabbed his arm before he could say anything. Soonyoung looked you in the eyes for a moment, alarmed, but the worry knitting his brows together melted away once you pulled him down for a proper kiss.

With your arms wrapped around his neck and his knee between your legs, Soonyoung eventually found himself lowering his body until your chests were pressed together. He kept himself up by his elbows and pulled away to look at you. He brushed your hair out of your face and leaned in for another kiss.

As you two became a tangled mess of limbs, wrapped up in each other and far too occupied to care about anything but making out, you moved your hand down Soonyoung’s abs to wrap your hand around his cock. He groaned against your lips and rocked his hips against your touch. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with lust. After reaching back to tug his boxers down, freeing his cock from the restricting fabric, Soonyoung looked down at you with desire glazing over his eyes. “May I?”

“Please do,” you answered.

You cried out when he started rubbing the head of his cock against your cunt, teasing your folds like he did before. You were aching already despite your previous orgasm, and you thought you were going to die on the spot from how needy you were.

“Turn onto your stomach,” he ordered. You were confused for a moment, but you ended up being manhandled by Soonyoung, anyway. He flipped you over and positioned himself at your entrance, keeping one hand on the back of your neck. “Good girl.”

The side of your face was pressed into the sheets, and your hands were desperately reaching for anything that gave you proper leverage. You ended up grabbing onto the pillows just as Soonyoung started pushing his cock inside you. You swallowed down the gasp that dared threaten to escape, and Soonyoung pressed kisses to your face and made sure you weren’t crying from how big he was.

With more filth and praises whispered into your ear, you were clenching and unclenching around him, making Soonyoung groan whenever he felt you tighten. It took a while for him to ease his way into you, but once Soonyoung had finally nestled inside of you, it was as if a switch flipped in him.

He was thrusting as soon as you gave him the green light. You were blindsided by how intense he was, hardly having any control over your own body as you held onto the sheets for dear life. Soonyoung held your hips with a bruising grip as he fucked into you.

Hot.

Everything felt hot and sticky. Your sweat-matted hair clung to the back of your neck, and you felt like your sheets were uncomfortably damp. Despite it all, though, you couldn’t get enough. You needed more, wanted more. Soonyoung was relentless, even when your box springs creaked and the frame rattled against the wall. 

You felt his cock twitch inside of you. “Fuck. You’re taking me so well.”

Still overly-sensitive from your previous orgasm, it didn’t take long for you to reach your limit a second time. Soonyoung pounded into you with fervor, and even he was quickly falling apart. 

“That’s it,” he got out, teeth gritted. “That’s my girl.”

You pulled him down for a deep kiss, muffling both of your moans once you were clenching uncontrollably around him. You were falling from your peak and Soonyoung fucked you through your orgasm, even though he was on the verge of one himself. 

He pulled out right before he was about to cum, and you could only hear his groans before you realized he had gotten off, too. For a moment, you thought Soonyoung abandoned you on the bed. His voice sounded distant all of a sudden, and you were too tuckered out to move. 

Then, he returned with a towel and several tissues for you. You turned onto your back again to make out his silhouette entering the room and taking a seat next to you. Your eyes were shut as Soonyoung cleaned you up, and you only opened them once he pushed your hair back and kissed your cheek. 

“Wanna go again?” he asked with a grin. You were impressed by how quickly he was able to recover. You, on the other hand, needed a few minutes to recuperate. “The night’s still young.”

“Yeah, sure, if you use a condom this time,” you breathed out, turning over onto your side. “Just give me five.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting your chest rise and fall until its rhythm steadied. Your breathing was even again, but when you opened your eyes, you saw neon green glowing in the middle of the room. 

“Soonyoung.” You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. You were not getting dicked down by manga censorship. “Why is your dick glowing?” 

“I prefer glow-in-the-dark condoms.” 

Typically, when two individuals had feelings for each other, it would often bloom into a relationship.

It was quite clear that you had feelings for Soonyoung and he had feelings for you, so, naturally, one would expect the two of you to start dating. However, it felt like you both were testing the waters around each other instead—dipping your toes into the dating pool. You two were exclusive, but not exactly together. 

You were perfectly content with taking things slow, but that didn’t necessarily mean Soonyoung didn’t end up over you almost every other night. The sex was great, of course. Mind-blowing, even. 

Seungcheol, Mingyu, and Seungkwan seemed to catch on quickly. There was no mistaking what was going on after you went over to their apartment to play Catan, and then you and Soonyoung disappeared into his room afterward. The next morning, when you walked downstairs in Soonyoung’s shirt to eat breakfast with everyone, you could pick up on their unspoken realization that you were hooking up with their roommate. 

Seungkwan even made an offhand comment about you and Soonyoung being a thing—whatever that was supposed to mean. 

You debriefed Junhui on the entire situation, of course. He seemed less surprised about you sleeping with Soonyoung, though, and more interested in the outcome of your driving test (which, you had to admit, you were terribly worried about). 

The night before your dreaded behind-the-wheel exam, you received a call from Soonyoung.

You weren’t sure what to expect when you picked up the call. You knew that he’d been planning on getting high with his housemates today, so you weren’t exactly sure if this phone call was going to be private or not. You were half-expecting Seungcheol to answer for him instead. 

“Hey,” Soonyoung greeted, voice slightly muffled. With the way the audio sounded, you suspected that he wasn’t holding onto his phone at the moment.

“Are you busy?” you asked. 

“No, just trying to get the pod you gave me out of its packaging.” You heard a few strained grunts from him before he exclaimed, “I got it!”

“I’m proud of you.”

“That’s what I’ll be telling you after you ace that driving test,” he said. He paused for a moment (which you guessed was him taking a hit). “You ready for it, by the way?”

“Not really.” You sucked in a sharp breath. “The good news is that taking years to pass the permit test has helped me memorize all the rules of the road; the bad news is that I have severe anxiety and probably won’t be able to utilize anything I’ve learned.”

“You’ll be fine, Y/N. You drove just fine with me, didn’t you?”

“But that’s you! How am I gonna drive properly with some scary old guy who probably hasn't ever smiled in his life?”

“Just relax. Remember to slow down on your turns and check your blind spots when you’re changing lanes.”

Your voice grew shy when you admitted, “This is gonna sound weird, but I kind of miss our driving lessons.”

“Even when you lost your tooth?”

You grimaced. “Even then.” 

Soonyoung laughed along with you for a moment before he simmered. The silence on the other side of the line didn’t feel uncomfortable, but you felt like each nerve end of yours was on fire. 

“I didn’t want it to end either, Y/N,” Soonyoung said after a while, his voice dropping an octave. 

“Really?”

“I don’t wanna be in a world where we aren’t in a car together, whether I’m telling you to stop driving under the speed limit or we’re crashing into that Honda Civic that knocked your front tooth out,” he started, and you scratched the back of your head. Yeah, he was definitely high. “And, maybe… maybe the missing front tooth was really the catalyst for all the memories we made along the way. Maybe, in another universe, that tooth never fell out—or existed. Maybe the concept of that occurrence manifested into this universe as a—”

“Okay, it was cute at first,” you interrupted, “but you’re definitely in that other universe right now.”

You had never been this much of a nervous wreck.

Actually, scratch that. You were probably this much of a nervous wreck at least thrice a week. You functioned on being anxious several times a day, so this was honestly not a new feeling. The only problem was that you had never driven with anyone other than Soonyoung, so you were slightly on edge as you turned into the DMV.

“Please return my car in one piece,” Soonyoung said, holding onto the ‘oh shit’ handle as you went over a speed bump, which you found highly unnecessary. He pointed to the starting point for the driving test. “I’ll wait for you outside the building over there.”

“Sounds good.”

“And remember: if you’re gonna fail the test, make sure you fail it big time. Don’t fail it by going ten over the speed limit, or something boring like that.”

“That’s terrible advice, Soonyoung.”

“I’m playing. You’re gonna be just fine.”

“Thanks, I’m just so—oh my god!” 

You stepped on the breaks immediately, gripping the wheel tight as the car lurched forward. The man who was crossing in front of you doubled over onto the hood of the car before standing upright again. You rolled your window down to yell an apology, but the man paid you no attention and kept walking with a scowl on his face. 

“I almost killed him!” you cried, slapping a hand over your mouth. 

“Well…” Soonyoung didn’t seem to know how to reassure you as he was still immobilized with fear himself. He managed a shaky grin. “On the bright side, he’s alive and you’re not facing a lawsuit.”

You swallowed hard. There was no way this exam was going to go well. 

After handing in the necessary paperwork inside the DMV, they approved you to go outside for your driving test. Since Soonyoung was letting you use his car while he waited outside, he sat with you until your examiner came by. He did everything he could to calm you down, but, ultimately, it was up to you to pass. 

While Soonyoung was giving his seat up for your examiner, you closed your eyes and tried to take deep breaths to mentally prepare. 

“Ma’am, can you turn on your left turn signal?” the examiner asked from your window. 

When you turned to look at him, you felt something inside you shrivel up and die. 

The man you almost ran over was your examiner. 

In your daze, you managed to follow his instructions as he asked you to point out various things, such as the windshield wipers, defroster, and foot brake. All the while you were already preparing yourself for failure because there was absolutely no way this man was going to let you pass after almost becoming your victim. 

Once the pre-drive safety check was over, he circled around the car to sit in the passenger’s seat, looking down at his clipboard for a moment. You held your tongue, hands clasped together in your lap. Were you supposed to apologize? Would he even care about your apology? It wouldn’t hurt to say sorry, right?

You started in a meek voice, “Oh, about what happened earlier, I’m so—”

“I’m Jeonghan, and I’m gonna be scoring your behind-the-wheel test today,” he cut you off with an air of indifference, looking back down at his clipboard. “Whenever you start the car is when the test begins.”

“Right—yes, okay.” You swallowed thickly and gripped the wheel, looking behind you to make sure no one was coming. Since there were a few cars driving by, you decided to wait for a moment. “A-are you having a good day?”

“I was.”

You wanted to crawl in a hole and drop dead. 

After the road was clear, you turned out of the DMV and started driving down the road, checking your speed and mirrors every so often. You had always been comfortably driving with Soonyoung, who would just help you reroute if you missed a turn. Now, though, if you missed anything Jeonghan said, you were going to fail (and probably die). 

“Take the right coming up here,” he instructed.

You remembered your turn signal and to look back over your shoulder. Soonyoung had taught you well, but you were afraid that his gentle instructions would only take you so far. Jeonghan was the most intimidating person you had come across (mostly because you almost killed him), and you should not have been trusted to drive someone you were terribly scared of. 

After you made the turn, you sighed in relief at the long stretch of road ahead. You attempted to cover it up by clearing your throat and making small talk with Jeonghan. 

“It’s pretty cold today, isn’t it?” you asked. Stupid question. You had no idea how cold it was. Soonyoung’s car felt like a sauna because you cranked up the heater, or maybe the heat was from how nervous you were. 

Jeonghan promptly ignored you. “Change lanes and take the next left.” 

Albeit your state of disarray, you followed what he said. You decided to give up on small talk altogether, coming to the conclusion that Jeonghan just hated you and didn’t want to converse with the person who almost murdered him in cold blood. 

You were pretty confident that the rest of your driving test went horribly. You almost went ten under the speed limit to make sure you didn’t run over anyone else in the school zone, you shrieked when the railroad lights turned on and you had to wait for the train to pass by, and you looked both ways about five times when you were at a stop sign. 

Jeonghan told you to park the car once you reached the DMV, so you pulled into an empty parking space. You were praying that he wasn’t still grading you because you were most definitely occupying two parking spaces right now. 

“Okay, so,” he started, looking at his clipboard before turning to you with a deadpan stare, “you drive too slow.”

Oh. That was intentional because you didn’t want to deal with another hit and run, but you stayed quiet and nodded. 

“And,” he continued, “you overthink too much when you’re behind the wheel. Don’t hesitate before you stop or make turns, or you’re just gonna run into trouble that way. You can’t be paranoid about driving, otherwise it’s gonna be hard for you to be on the road.”

You pressed your lips together in a tight line. This was it. He was going to fail you. There was no way you were going to pass when you were being criticized for your entire performance. You didn’t blame Jeonghan, though; you probably wouldn’t pass the person who almost ran you over, either. 

“Well, you were cutting it really close,” he said, circling some parts of your examination sheet, “but you passed.”

Your eyes grew wide.

You passed.

You passed.

You turned to Jeonghan and cried out, “I passed?!”

“You know your car, you know the rules of the road, and you did all your maneuvers just fine,” he continued. “You slowed down in the school zone to make sure you didn’t hit any kids, and you were careful about your turns and stops. Just remember not to be too careful, though, or you might run into someone.”

For the first time, you heard a small snicker of amusement come from him. 

“I—I’m so sorry about that,” you blurted out. “I thought you were gonna fail me for hitting you with the car.”

“Like I said, the test begins when you start the car.” He handed you your papers and got out of your car. Before closing the door, he turned to you with his clipboard tucked under his arm. “You should go tell the DMV you passed and get your temporary license before I mark you down for this parking job.”

You gulped, unbuckling your seatbelt in a rush. “Will do.”

Jeonghan stalked off to grade another new driver, you supposed. When you got out of the car, your eyes immediately scanned the perimeter to search for Soonyoung, and there he was, waving you over from the sidewalk with a bright grin on his face. 

Before you could even make your way over and break the news to him, he yelled out with his hands cupped around his mouth, “That’s my girl!”

You blushed, stopping in your tracks and staring at him for so long that it took a car honking at you to propel you back into motion. You scrambled over to Soonyoung, eyes wide as saucers and still frazzled from the emotional turmoil you went through with Jeonghan.

He wrapped an arm around you. “You know, no matter the result, I’m proud of you for trying. There’s always next time, you know?”

“Soonyoung—”

“Did everything else go well, though? Other than you almost killing him, obviously.”

“Soonyoung, I—”

“It was probably just bad luck, honestly. I mean, it was a recoverable bump, not even a full-on crash! You were going so slow that anyone could walk that off.”

“Soonyoung!” you yelled, thrusting your score sheet into his hands. “I passed!”

His eyes widened. “You passed?!”

“I passed!” you squealed. “I have to tell Junhui! I mean, he totally thought I was gonna fail my first two or six tries!”

Soonyoung crushed you into a hug, which would’ve been more endearing if your ribs weren’t being squeezed so hard. “Holy shit, Y/N, I’m so proud of you.”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing him closer. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Be my girlfriend,” he spoke against your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin, and you immediately froze.

Kwon Soonyoung wanted to be your boyfriend. Even with everything that had happened—from the STIIZY pods, to the car crash, to the glow-in-the-dark condom—you still felt relief flooding your veins at the thought of Soonyoung liking you as much as you liked him. It almost felt like you were in a dream.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally remembered how to breathe.

You pulled back to look at him, and even though it was the middle of the day, it felt like all the stars were out to make Soonyoung shine brighter than usual.

“Be my girlfriend,” he repeated, softer this time, and his eyes were gentle as his hands reached for yours. Your lips immediately tugged down and your eyes were welling up with tears. “No, no, no, Y/N, don’t start crying at the DMV.”

You wiped at the corner of your eye. “I can’t help it. I always cry at the DMV.” He smiled down at you fondly, waiting for you to gather your composure. You mustered up the strength to lift your head and nod eagerly. “I accept.”

He was your boyfriend now. The word felt strange on your tongue, but it also filled you with inexplicable happiness. And when you saw how Soonyoung’s eyes crinkled at the corners, you thought you could definitely get used to this. 

“You’re so cute.” He laughed, pulling you into his embrace once again. “How about we go get something to eat after you tell them your score?”

You grinned. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

While Soonyoung was waiting in the car for you (and probably readjusting your terrible parking job before he got yelled at), you walked into the DMV and stood in the same line you were in months ago for your permit test. You remembered the anxious feeling of possibly failing your written test a seventh time, but now you felt a huge weight being lifted off your shoulders. 

“I did it,” you gushed to the woman at the counter, handing her your score sheet. “I passed.” 

“Congratulations!” she chirped, examining the papers before turning to type something on her computer. She turned to grab your temporary license from the printer and handed it to you. “Here you go. Your real one should come in the mail in a few weeks.”

“Thank you so much,” you replied, inspecting your new license with bright eyes. 

You failed your permit test six times, only passing on your seventh attempt. While other children were getting their licenses at the age of sixteen, you were still trying to pass the written test in your twenties. And, yes, you had severe driving anxiety, but you crossed that hurdle yourself and finally passed your driving test on your first try. 

So, that glass ceiling? Consider it smashed.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you so so much for reading if you've made it this far !! :') i've been wanting to write for hoshi for so long and this was just so fun <3 also BIG shoutout to everyone who asked to be on the tag list because although i couldn't respond to everyone (mostly because i figured i would end up tagging everyone twice 🧎‍♀️ ), i mega appreciate your interest ♡ hope everyone's having a wonderful day/night !!

TAG LIST ▸ @wonudazed @delicatewinterenthusiast @aaniag @primoppang @matchahyuck @xiaoting999 @alsktudy @fixonbreakoff @simqly-yunjin @kwonshiho @cottoncheol @nishloves @sarcasticsweetlara @ult-bee @vanishingboots @l2vedive @phenomenalgirl9 @notevenheretbh1 @hopetiger10 @junyangis @fyladymars @lilsafsafbooyah @kwanhaos @alltheshineofthestars-blog

#svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #hoshi smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #soonyoung smut #seventeen #hoshi x reader #kwon soonyoung #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #hoshi imagines #hoshi scenarios #soonyoung imagines #soonyoung scenarios #svt hard hours #seventeen hard hours #seventeen x reader

[queen-quintonz]

Zayne from Love and Deepspace as your boyfriend headcanons

fluffy, slightly angsty and spicy random headcanons of our kuudere

warnings: minor dni

fluffy

Loves to tease you because he finds your huffing and puffing adorable

Will take note of your passing comments. If you’re scrolling through food videos and say “Hmm I’ve never tried a pandan croissant before” under your breath, what do you see on the table the next morning? A pandan croissant from the same store with a little note saying “Let me know if you want more”

Watches you sleep because it brings comfort to him

He plays with your fingers when you’re asleep

An acts of service type of guy who loves to take care of you even if he chastises you all the time

Secretly takes candid photos of you from your dates and outings

Will NOT accept when he’s sick and is the worst patient to deal with.

The boyfriend that will take you to all the newest food joints

Is your personal photographer

Always acts as if he’s above gossip but will call you and report on any crazy encounters he’s had “Y/n, you would not believe what I encountered today….”

Will reprimand you if you’re underdressed in cold weather whilst wrapping his scarf or coat around you

Instinctively cradles your your neck or cups your face when he kisses you

Has blushed when the kids at the hospital asked if you were his girlfriend

His “I love you” holds the most weight.

angsty(?)

Can’t help but feel guilty when he comes home late due to his long work hours and spontaneous schedule because he can tell you stayed up waiting for him

When he’s stressed or emotionally worn, he rests between your neck and holds your hand over his heart for comfort

He looks at you like it’s the last time he’s going to see you

Would be the one to watch and care for you in the shadows if your ever break up (you’ll get back together in the future dw)

Even though he’s not as expressive as Rafayal and Xavier, when he sees you hurt he hurts with you

He loves you so much that he doesn’t want to burden you, at his own expense

Doesn’t say it out loud, but you are his rock

spicy

Is a soft dom

Loves hearing you whine when he’s not giving you what you want

Secretly gets off on it when refer to him as “Dr” (as long as you’re not seeing him for medical reasons😉)

He will use that tie in the bedroom.

Giving you pleasure gives him pleasure

Will plant kisses all over your body and tell you how good you feel and how beautiful you look

Is the best with his fingers (do you see them?…)

Will make you voice what you want or else he won’t give it to you

Won’t let you break contact when you climax

He may be quiet and more reserved on the daily, but he IS mouthy in bed.

Doesn’t hold back on praise

Only lets himself climax when you’re facing him

He is the aftercare king. Will prepare a warm bath for you, gently dry you off, carry you back into bed and tuck you in.

Knows how sexy you find him in his doctor’s uniform and takes advantage of that….

Have definitely had a quickie in his office much to his ‘protests’ - they didn’t last long anyway (Have you seen how big and comfy that couch is??)

#love and deepspace #love & deepspace #lads #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #zayne x you #lads zayne #zayne fluff #zayne x y/n #zayne smut #zayn #zayne headcanons #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace headcanons #zayne imagines #li shen

[come-see-our-show]

I saw an early screening of the Mean Girls movie last night, so here is a summary of my thoughts, comparing the movie musical to the Broadway musical, which I was lucky enough to see live in 2018!

Changed that I liked:

The usage of social media in the Broadway show made it very clear that it was written by adults who didn’t know much about Gen-Z. It was probably one of the worst parts of the show in my opinion. But Tina Fey must have done her research since 2018, because the way the movie uses TikTok, memes, vlogging, and FaceTime to push the story forward worked VERY well. I think there were some influencer cameos, but it didn’t feel they were included to show how “young and hip” they were, It actually added authenticity.

The diversity within the cast and changing last names to reflect the characters’ backgrounds (Karen Smith ➡️ Karen Shetty, Janis Sarkisian ➡️ Janis 'Imi'ike)

Cutting down “Meet the Plastics.” It’s a very exposition-heavy song and doesn’t need to be super long, even though the full version is quite catchy and fun.

All of the new jokes landed so well, probably because Tina Fey’s writing style is better suited for the screen as opposed to the stage.

This is more of a comparison of the musical vs. the original film, but a big change was The Plastics’ weaponized wokeness (which I talk about here).

The production design for most of the songs was very different. The stage musical has a lot of rock songs, which were changed to a pop sound for the movie. I personally prefer rock musicals, but it was a good way to give the movie a separate identity from its predecessor so it doesn’t risk becoming a carbon copy. It worked on some songs (“Someone Gets Hurt” and “World Burn”) but not on others (“A Cautionary Tale” and “Revenge Party”).

Cutting the joke about Regina’s ass being big. It was a very low-brow joke, which I’m not a fan of, and was just really immature. Thank God that was changed to her falling, which still shows her being embarrassed without her body being the joke.

Explicitly making Janis a lesbian! (It’s only implied in the stage show with “It’s not even true… I only have one butt”) And she goes to prom with a girl while Damien dances with a boy! ALSO THERE’S REJANIS LORE AND IT’S SO HEARTBREAKING I LOVE IT

megan thee stallion just… being there

Miss Norbury and Principal Duvall being a couple and owning a dog together!!!

As a low mezzo, I appreciated whoever decided to lower the key for “I’d Rather Be Me.” I felt very represented 🩷

Having Cady be raised in a single-parent household so it focuses in more on her relationship with her mom. Jenna Fischer was so motherly and sincere and brought a warmth to the movie. Their scene together near the end made me emotional (you’re never too old to ask your parent to stay with you until you fall asleep) (also this is my request to make jenna fischer my mom)

Changes that I didn’t like:

Cutting BOTH of Damian’s solos??? (SHE’S LEAVING!!!!!!!! JUST LIKE MY DAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Cutting “More Is Better.” It wasn’t necessarily a memorable song, but it did give both Cady and Aaron more depth, both as separate characters and within their relationship.

While cutting some of the songs helped with pacing, cutting HALF of the score made me forget that it was a musical sometimes, which sucks because I really like musicals!!!

Other stuff:

The movie was marketed horribly. One of my friends didn’t even know it was gonna be a musical because there were no songs in the trailers 💀 (Also, this isn’t just a Mean Girls problem. The Color Purple also didn’t have any songs in the trailer. I didn’t even know Wonka was a musical until I saw it in theaters, so that was a bit of a shock.) If you’re producing a musical movie, maybe your focus groups should be musical fans, because that’s still a HUGE market.

Auliʻi Cravalho’s voice is STUNNING! She and Jaquel Spivey had great chemistry and their friendship felt so genuine!

The opening and ending transitions from the garage were everything to me

The EDITING

Angourie Rice is a great actor and fit Cady perfectly… except for her singing. Out of the entire cast she was easily the weakest in terms of vocals and it was pretty disappointing since she’s the LEAD. I could barely hear her in the new song “What Ifs” because of how quiet and breathy she was. I think it’s a better written song compared to “Roar” though.

Jon Hamm cameo!

Ashley Park cameo!

I cannot stress enough how funny this movie was. I was probably laughing louder than everyone else in the theatre.

I lost my shit during “Meet the Plastics” when Regina unzipped her jacket and Cady was staring at her boobs. She’s just like me fr 🏳️‍🌈

I know that Regina is a horrible person but I couldn’t find it in me to dislike her in the slightest. She just served too much cunt 😩

Christopher Briney is a good actor, but I don't think he was the right choice for Aaron Samuels. I would hate to ridicule anyone for their looks, but it still plays an important part in casting. Aaron is supposed to be a somewhat naive, wholesome, hot jock (and Regina has high standards, so he better be a fucking model). Briney is definitely a cutie, but gives off “smoldering badboy with a secret sensitive side” energy, which isn’t what Aaron should be.

The fantasy sequences (Stupid With Love, Revenge Party, October 3rd). I LOVE when movie musicals USE the medium to tell stories in a way that they can’t on a stage!!!

THE CHOREO!!! Everyone freezing then shaking in “Someone Get Hurt” AHHHH that entire number was HYPNOTIZING!!!!!!!!!!! My friend told me the choreographer’s name is Kyle Hanagami, so shout out to him. (also reneé rapp was so fucking hot while singing that oh my lord)

I will be calling my pimples “face breasts” from now on (avantika ilysm)

DAMIAN’S FRENCH COVER OF THE ICARLY THEME SONG 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

why was there a 0.5 camera shot of cady during revenge party 💀

“I’d Rather Be Me” was so much fun and I felt so fucking empowered. And the transition from the song to the bus was just *chef’s kiss*

“donut worry i am still your freend” 🥺

Lindsay Lohan cameo!!!!!!!!!

NOT ENOUGH RENEÉ RAPP 😭😭

Overall, the movie was not perfect, but the Broadway show already had plenty of flaws, so it’s understandably how that would affect the adaptation. I still a LOT of fun and would definitely see it again. Go stream Snow Angel by Reneé Rapp. i love women 🥰🥰🥰

#summer says stuff #mean girls #mean girls 2024 #mean girls musical #mean girls broadway #tina fey #karen shetty #janis 'imi'ike #regina george #rejanis #megan thee stallion #cady heron #jenna fischer #damien hubbard #aaron samuel’s #Auliʻi Cravalho #jaquel spivey #angourie rice #cadgina #christopher briney #reneé rapp #avantika

[hollisxwrites]

Hi, can I please make a request? Reader (you can choose the godly parent) gets super protective of Percy after he gets in a physical fight with Clarisse.

fight for you

percy jackson x fem! child of apollo reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: cannon typical violence, mention of a concussion, clarisse is kind of a bitch in this one! sorry, i love her, but it had to be done. overall, super fluffy though.

summary: percy gets in a fight with clarisse because he was insulting him, and worst of all, his girlfriend. when the fight gets harsh, his girlfriend steps in, and then takes care of him after the fight.

authors note: y'all, thank you so much for all the love on my most recent posts! i have reached over 1.5k likes and 55 followers! i only started this blog two weeks ago, so thank you! i have been blown away by all the kindness. i am also working through all of my request, so don't worry, i'll get to all of them very soon! xoxo - hollis.

A horrific smack was heard all around the Camp when suddenly, my boyfriend, the brave (and idiotic) Percy Jackson, sent his practice javelin hurling at one of the camp's best fighters, Clarisse La Rue. Percy was already agitated, I could tell. Clarisse had been taunting him all day long, telling him that he would never be as good of a fighter as her, and telling her that his dad would never support him the way Ares supported her. I kept telling Percy to stand down, to not let her words affect him, but they did. Every word was like a knife to his side, making his insecurities run rampage on his mind. So, when the javelin left his hand, I hate to say it, but I wasn’t surprised in the slightest. Clarisse got what was coming for her, honestly.  

Clarisse had started to insult me, and that’s when I knew it was over for her. Percy’s demeanor shifted from almost joking to serious in an instant. He always said that it was okay to insult him, but the second it came to me, he wouldn’t go down without a fight, which I guess was sweet, but it also put him at risk almost all the time. 

“Percy! Stand down, please!” I yelled at him from across the training field. “If you get hurt, I’m going to kill you.” 

Percy’s eyes burned with a fiery passion as he turned around to look at me. “I’m defending you, sunshine. I can handle myself.” 

I sighed and rubbed my hands on my temples. This boy would be the death of me. “Please be careful.” I whispered, more to myself than to him. 

I told myself I wouldn’t get involved, I told myself that I wouldn’t let myself fight his battles, but when Clarisse dropped her weapon and started to fight with her fist, I couldn’t let it slide anymore. I ran up and pushed Percy behind me, and right hooked Clarisse right in the jaw.  She stumbled back, gripping her jaw and scoffed. “Percy is so weak that you must fight his battles? That’s hilarious.” 

Percy moved to my side, his nose already bleeding and his left eye going to be black in the morning, but he was not going to let me get myself hurt for him. “No, he’s not, but I can’t let you insult him like that. Percy is brave, strong, and a better person than you but tenfold. He is everything you are not.” 

Her eyes twitched and she threw another punch not at me, but at Percy. I pushed her off him, and using my hand-to-hand combat skills, threw her to the ground. I laid one more good punch on her before Chiron and a couple of my siblings from Apollo came running at us.  

“Stop fighting!” Chiron yelled. “You all have dishes duties for a month! Miss.{reader}, please take Percy to the medics, and Clarisse, come to my office, immediately.”  

I nodded at Chiron, upset about the dishes duty, but happy I got to be the one to take care of Percy. I helped him up from his place on the ground. When Clarisse had hit him the last time, he had fallen to the floor hard on his back, possibly hitting his head. Usually, I did not get this involved in his fights, but I couldn’t stand to see him hurting for my sake. I let him drape his arms around my shoulder, as the last punch sent him on his back, and we slowly made our way to my cabin. There was no way that I was going to let some of my siblings take care of my boy, that was my job. Anger still coursed through my veins as I watched Percy’s eyebrows pinch in pain with each step. His head was probably pounding, and he defiantly had a couple of bruised ribs from the fall he took.  

When we reached my cabin, I helped him lay down on my bed that was oh-so familiar with. “Stay right here, I’m going to grab you some pain killers and an ice pack. Do not move.”  

“Yes ma’am.” He said, his sassiness still peeking through his voice despite him being injured.  

I ran as quickly as I could to the medical building and grabbed what I needed to heal my boy, and then ran back. I was gone for less than five minutes, but when I returned, Percy was already half asleep, head nestled into my pillows. “Hey, Perc, can you sit up a little for me?” I asked him, voice as soft as I could make it.  

He shuffled to sit up and smiled a sideways, semi-loopy smile at me. “What do you think is wrong, doc?” He said, voice a little horse. I was scared he might have had a concussion because of the way he was acting. 

“Let me ask you a couple of questions, then I’ll know. Is your mind foggy? Are you dizzy or nauseous?” I asked him. 

“Dizzy? Yes. Foggy mind? No. Nauseous...” He paused. “I don’t want to think about it.”  

I took that as yes for nauseous, thus confirming my thought that he had a concussion. “Okay, so I think you had a mild concussion, because you never blacked out, but you were awfully close. So, I’ll put an ice pack on your head, give you some pain killers, and you and I can just rest for the rest of the day, okay?” 

He tried his best to nod. “Okay, as long as you stay with me?”  

“Of course I’ll stay. There is no way I would leave you like this, especially because it was my fault that you are in this state.” I sighed and looked into his beautiful eyes. One of them was bruised a little bit, and so I placed a kiss to it, which is one of my healing gifts my father gave me. I can quite literally kiss it better. My lips lingered on his eye, and then I went to the other one, this his forehead, then his neck, his jaw, and finally, his ribs through his battered orange Camp shirt. His eyes closed and he hummed in appreciation.  

“I love you; you know that right? That’s why I fought for you.” He said, tone muddled with exhaustion.    

“I love you too, that’s why I fought for you.” I paused and my hands, finding his hair. “I didn’t do it because I thought you were weak or not good enough, I did it because I love you, and I don’t want anyone to hurt you, ever.”    

His eyes met mine, and they were filled with genuine love and adoration. “You’re perfect. I’m telling you. How did I deserve you?” 

I continued to clean him off, pulling his dirty shirt off him and wiping down any cuts or bruises with something my siblings and I developed. “How did I deserve you, the perfect, most handsome boy in the entire world?”  

He laughed and shook his head. “I love you.” 

“I love you, more than you’ll ever know.” I said, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his lips. 

He beckoned me to lay in bed with him after I finished cleaning him up. He pulled me with his dwindling strength, and then shifted so he was laying on my lap. I continued to play with his hair, and he soon drifted off to sleep. My boy may be one of the bravest campers, but he will always be nothing but sweet to me.        

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson show #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson imagine

[lgbtlunaverse]

It seems the dash has been talking about the Lan Xichen - Nie Huaisang post-canon dynamics and it's gotten me thinking about how discussion around post-canon Lan Xichen's absolutely horrendous mental state often center around the question of "who is Lan Xichen angry at and who does he feel guilty about" which, at its worst, seperates into 2 camps where according to one side he feels guilty about not protecting jgy and hates the Nies and, on the other side he has completely flipped on jgy and despises him now while being filled with regret towards both nmj and nhs.

And I dislike both of these takes not just because it often feels like people projecting their own Blorbo opinions onto Lan Xichen which is never a fun time but also because that central question is flawed to begin with. It treats anger and guilt like opposing emotions that can't coexist or, if they do, have to compete until one wins and cancels the other out.

And that's not how that... works.

To be clear, the reason why Lan Xichen is so supremely fucked up at the end of the story is that he believes on some level he fucked over everyone in this situation. And, even more importantly, that even with hindsight he can't actually think of what he should have done instead. Every attempt to do better by one seems to involve fucking over the others even more because these people were in conflict with each other and choosing one would mean standing against another

And none of this would actually stop him from feeling angry at any of them. It's not "who is he angry at and who does he feel guilty about" it's: "he is angry at everyone and feels an immediate and bone deep guilt for daring to think badly of them."

Speaking from personal experience here, but feeling like you're not allowed to be angry at someone because you wronged them really doesn't stop the feeling, it just maks you feel like shit for feeling it. And this is all worsened by the fact that what he's in seclusion for is, at the end of the day, a moral question of what he, Lan Xichen, did wrong and every single emotion serves as further proof of the ways he's failed them.

Is he angry at Jin Guangyao, for killing his oldest friend, using Lan xichen's trust in him to do it, and then lying to him about it and countless other things for a decade when Lan Xichen thought of him as the person he trusted the most in the entire world? Yeah. That's a thing people get angry about! Except Jin Guangyao also saved his life and protected and helped him more times than he can count and never ever hurt him and can Lan Xichen say the same? No. He had to clean A-Yao's blood off Shouyue, he has to be haunted by the fact that if he just hadn't listened to Huaisang- hadn't been just like everyone else, in the end, and believed a lie about Jin Guangyao just to think the worst of him- then Jin Guangyao might still be alive.

Is he angry at Huaisang? For orchestrating the death of his best friend? For making him do it? For knowing what the real cause behind Nie Mingjue's death was and never telling him until he found out in the absolute worst way? Absolutely. But didn't Huaisang hide it from him for a reason? Wasn't it his clan's techniques and his personal faith in Jin Guangyao that cost Huaisang his brother? How dare he demand that Huaisang let him in on the secret of his brother's murderer when Lan Xichen is here wondering about how he should have protected that murderer better!

And I do even think he's angry at Nie Mingjue, sometimes I think it's pretty normal to be angry at your friend for kicking your other friend down the stairs and threatening to kill him, even when you know his mind is being poisoned. And years later the last thing he ever saw of Nie Mingjue was Nie Mingjue's thoughtless corpse coming to kill him before Jin Guangyao pushed him away and then proceeded to graphocally snap Jin Guangyao's neck in front of him. And if what he wants to do is protect Jin Guangyao, shouldn't he be mad at Mingjue? Didn't this whole mess start because Jin Guangyao was afraid Nie Mingjue was going to kill him?

Except holy shit, can you imagine? Lan Xichen feels like he personally has Nie Mingjue's blood on his hands. Your oldest friend is killed in front of you and you happily believe it's an accident for 11 years and now you think you have the right to be mad at him? You watched him get worse as he was being poisoned and attributed it to his illness and not to the techniques stolen from your library with the token you give his murderer. Does he think Nie Mingjue knew who he was in that moment and wanted to kill him? That he blamed Lan Xichen for his death? (For the record, I don't. I don't agree with most of what Lan Xichen thinks about himself, but I've been in a self-blame spiral and I know how it feels)

But what was he supposed to do then? Choose Mingjue's side and let A-Yao die? That's also unacceptable. But so is letting Jin Guangyao get away with it. Every single outcome is unacceptable. And really, if Jin Guangyao felt like he had to kill Nie Mingjue to save himself, when it was Lan Xichen who was supposed to keep the peace between them, isn't that another mark of his failure? That he couldn't protect Jin Guangyao well enough that he felt he had to do something so horrible?

But that's not an answer! He's supposed to know what he should have done different, and all he can come up with is "what you were already doing, but without failing this time" He can't pick a side because that means betrayal, but he's already tried not picking a side and it ended like this! There is no right answer, which can only leave him with the idea that he was simply doomed to hurt the people he loved from the start. No wonder the guy looks like shit when we see him post-canon. They put him in a real life trolley problem and gave him the lever as a souvenir.

#mdzs #mdzs meta #lan xichen #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #meng yao #nie mingjue #personally i LOVE high stakes ethical dilemma tragedies where there's not a clear right or wrong #and i can enjoy them without picking a side because it's fiction to me and i can admire the complex web of love hurt and betrayal from afar #but this is lan xichen's actual life. he HAS to have an answer to this question in a way I don't #but there isn't one

[sourbinnie]

☆ hit me where it hurts.mp3 ☆

♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> angst ¡! ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> maknae line!skz x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> sometimes things shouldn't be said (or thought) but the words slip right out of his mouth at the worst time. ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> arguments ; the boys being a little mean but instantly regretting it ; cursing ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!

hyung line

a/n: here's the maknae line version! we'll see if i can write a second part but i'm debating where i should double down on the sadness or make them have a happy ending

jisung ✉

you didn't know what shocked you more, his calm nature in argument isn't something odd but he never let it get out of hand. today he did unfortunately and it started a screaming match in your shared apartment about god knows what. like a competition to see who could hurt the other worse and guess who won? yeah not you, you won the tears that couldn't stop streaming as you remembered.

"fuck (y/n) were you always this bad? they didn't make my life this difficult." and if you were making his life so difficult then you were gonna walk out of the scene of the crime. "no, i didn't mean that. i don't know what came over me, it was just the heat of the moment. please don't fucking leave-."

"so you can keep on screaming at me? yeah no thanks, i'm going." it wasn't even the screaming that got to you, jisung could be loud and you never cared. but it felt like poison the fact that he compared you to someone he himself broke up with. "just stay away from me jisung, i can't even look at you right now."

"don't say that. i know i fucked up but i can fix it, i promise i can fix it!" he insisted but you couldn't believe a single word coming out of his mouth as you grabbed your things to leave. "baby please, i know it wasn't okay but i can't bear seeing you like this, at least promise me you'll come back?"

"i'm gonna be honest. i don't know if i will." you said and the last thing you remembered was the sadness on his face turning into pure horror and fear that you were gonna leave him forever. you couldn't even make a decision right now as you had so much in your own mind that it was getting worse & worse. as much as you loved jisung, people say things because they truly mean them right? and maybe you two were not meant for each other as you thought you were.

felix ✉

getting ignored by felix meant something was wrong and that you were in deep trouble. it got you thinking about your previous fights with him and how you handled them. you usually talked things out and told each other what you felt when he got like this but right now it seemed impossible as he dodged you every time you got close to him even though he was the one who invited you a few days ago to the dorms tonight. the tension could be caught with a knife and all the boys felt it so most of them decided to leave before it got bad except chan who looked at you two carefully and tried to figure out what was going on.

"lix can you talk to me? i don't know what's going on or why you're so distant but i would like to work things out." you said as you got close to him and sat down but he just pretended like you weren't there. it felt so weird to be so distant with the person you love the most and it deeply hurt but nothing scarred like what he said.

"can't you get a hint? i don't wanna be near you right now. god i don't know why i broke up with them, they're not awfully clingy like you are." he muttered as he tried to walk away but i guess it hit him what he said and turned around to look at me. i couldn't even cry, i was just going through my mind trying to handle everything he said at once and figuring out that i should probably leave. "baby no i'm sorry, please at least stay here so you don't have to walk in the middle of the night."

"there's no way i'm staying close to you today." even if it hurt him, nothing was gonna be as bad as what he said to me and he would have to deal with that. "please let me go felix."

"felix, i'll walk them home and we'll talk when i get back." chan said and i could see the hesitation on felix's eyes but he eventually did let go of my wrist and i could finally leave. i couldn't help the tears that were flowing as i got out of the building and tried not to make a fool of myself in front of chan but he was like an older brother to me so as soon as he offered me a hug, i gave in and let go.

seungmin ✉

you weren't sure how to handle things with seungmin when he got in a bad mood. it's like you two didn't even know where to begin discussing the things that made you both upset and talking it out like normal people. it always led to a fight about who’s right and who's wrong and not about how you two exactly felt. it also led to him using some insecurities against you this time which you were not having it. 

"listen (y/n) i don't know what you want from me but i'm done arguing." he said and you sighed, you were glad that everything was finally over between the two of you. "if i knew it was gonna lead to this, i would've stayed with them and never asked you out."

felt like a cold bucket of water dropped on you and it made you want to leave immediately but you froze. trying to process if it was real that your seungmin felt that way about you and your relationship, meaningless like it was nothing at all. it took all the strength left in you to get up and head to your shared bedroom to lock the door and not say anything else. as soon as realization hit him and what he said, he was on the other side knocking.

"i'm sorry i don't know what came over me. i promise i'll be better, please let me see you? i can't stand the fact that you're alone and suffering right now." he said but the sobs were uncontrollable and choking up on tears was so disheartening. "baby please, i won't leave this side until we talk it out. (y/n) i love you..."

"i love you too but please leave me alone for now will you?" you said even if all you wanted was a hug right now, you weren't sure you wanted one from someone who felt that way towards you. you could hear the footsteps getting further and further as you held onto your knees tight and buried your head, trying to make the tears stop.

jeongin ✉

it felt so weird to argue with jeongin. it was one of his first relationships and he still didn't know how to express himself without hurting you and sometimes he didn't know how to handle the tears that came after the hurtful words. he felt like crying himself most of the time he saw you cry and it wasn't easy to calm each other down if both of you were in a bad state emotionally. this time he did let the anger get the best of him and he dived right into the meaningless words that you would hear in a fight, well they were meaningless to him but to you? not so much.

"jesus fucking christ (y/n). i don't know what you want from me anymore, you're making such a fuss and i know they would never do this shit. i don't know why i'm with you." it was too late to regret anything as he looked at you, with shock in his eyes that he even muttered that. 

"if you feel that way then i should get going." you said as you bit your lip and tried to hold back from the break down that you were about to have. "i don't know what i expected but for you to talk to me that way? i didn't see it coming."

"(y/n) love, i'm so fucking sorry. please don't leave me." he said and yes the tears were flowing from his eyes and yes you did feel horrible about it seeing him like this. but it was his fault and to grow from it he would have to deal with hurting you as you walked in the direction of the front door and he chased after you. "please, i'll do anything but please don't go."

"if you wanna do something then understand i need some time away from you right now. goodbye jeongin, we'll talk later." you said and closed the door before he could follow you. a sigh and a tear came out of your body as you looked up and hoped that you two could mend things but it was all up to you at this point. and it hurt to know that he felt in a way you would've never even dream of feeling.

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