#I prolly do need to start going this far or at least half way and the ‘long way’ home

[miss-floral-thief]

Too bad I’m not closer to my uncles or other relatives in town I can bum a ride home with

#i mean I still physically can I’m just lazy lol xD #I prolly do need to start going this far or at least half way and the ‘long way’ home #more often exercise wise lol #idk if what I ordered balanced out with my walking but meh #kinda want a burger now xD #we don’t rly have taxis tho the one that replaced the nearby buses are also appointment only #and I don’t have Uber/Lyft etc bc that requires a credit card #(lol I prolly should get a bank account at some point before I find a part time job) #personalice #ignore me #too bad I’m still not a student it’s a bit of a walk but this downtown coffee place is closer to one of my old highs schools than I thought #tho when I orignallyoast it ididnt recognize it at all #i suppose it has been over a decade and mauve construction #tho not like I spent that many hours staring at the outside of it lol

[slanax]

so the podcast playlist ran out at work earlier today and left me with just music and my thoughts while I continued packaging products on autopilot. Now over the last month or so I've done a lot in my day to day life to stop stagnating and settling for 'good enough' as far as like household and stuff is concerned, I finally upgraded my phone and phone plan after like five and ten years respectively, I bought new clothes that actually fit me instead of the holdovers from back in the day that I was still wearing, my kitchen now has an actual workspace bc I've rearranged my furniture and added some more - shoutouts to my mom who wanted the doors off of my ikea cupboards so she'd have a matching set for the ones I left at home (the kind I had wasn't in store anymore) bc her offering to drive me to Ikea to get replacements triggered a bit of a binge in rearranging my whole apartment and let me transport the new stuff home too. Visiting my brother made me cook more and eat healthier bc he showed me the burgers he's cooking up when he needs something fast but like, with standards.

anyways. rambling. point is that the whole thing got me thinking about other things in my life that I'm kinda 'eh good enough' on, and the big one there is my identity and my body. Me being cis is, at least at this point, a conscious choice born from indifference, the factory settings work well enough and it'd be effort to even start looking into what I'd have to do to change them. But at the same time, it doesn't feel super cis for my position to be "yeah I'd prolly trans my gender if given the chance but that sounds like I'd have to file shit and call people and bureaucracy would be involved. But I would. But the effort." like I'm remembering Ranma 1/2 from my childhood and think that'd be neat to be able to do, just switch genders at the drop of a literal bucket, I feel that's not a very cis thought.

so then about two weeks ago my workplace gave us access to some health benefits, because they're feeling bad about keeping the warehouse people a bit out of the loop and removed from the office people, and also they're having trouble finding new people and really don't want any of us to quit, or something along those lines. Point is I have better health insurance now, based on a calender year budget, so I basically have an above average budget for the second half of this year now and I wanna make use of that, because it's a use-it-or-lose-it kinda deal. Now I don't know if I can use that for any gender affirming stuff, but I might.

The problem that remains is that I still couldn't care less for going through the whole rigamaroll of a social transition, but like. staying on-paper cis and continuing to use my given name to avoid all those complications, legally still being the same person and just looking different (might need a new ID if I go that far lol) doing whatever the fuck I want with my body in the meantime without it ever affecting my legal identity because it's not a deadname if I'm still just using it, it doesn't actually give me dysphoria, and they can't force me to change my name just because I have boobs, might be what I want? And then maybe I can consider a legal gender and/or name change from there?

idk on one hand it sounds like something I'd want to do but on the other hand I also feel it's not like, committed enough? like both on a practical level where I need a doctor to help me transition physically while still using the same (male) name, and on an ideological level where it feels like appropriation in a way to just want the body and the appearance but skipping over the whole paperwork thing because I can't be arsed while for a lot of people changing name and officially recognized identity is a just as if not more important aspect of transitioning.

genuinely can't tell on my own if that standpoint is a valid one, if I'm right to be hesitant for that reason or if that's an exclusionist brainworm take, would appreciate feedback and second opinions on that part especially

either way I am going to look into using my newfound health benefits for getting my facial hair lasered first and foremost because even if I stay physically 100% male that shit is annoying, I don't care for how it looks on me, I feel messy when it's there and can't be assed to shave it regularily. Avoiding effort is a key part of my identity either way whether I'm Cis+ or Legally Cis For Tax Reasons

[syggwolf]

I rarely write anything big or super personal but like, I gotta get something off my chest and just sorta bitch about this.

About a month ago, I was sitting outside waiting on a ride, and across the street and down the road a little, I heard a child just... Freaking the fuck out mega style. Fear maxing. Absolutely terror pilled. Beyond normal child meltdown by at least several orders of magnitude.

So I started paying attention and listening because holyshit this is beyond the pale, and I look up and down the road, and I see there's some lady on the phone standing in her driveway on the other side of some car, and another lady walking up the street half a house away and I tune in and realize this lady on the phone is talking with 911. And what I piece together is this kid is in a tight spot, literally, as it seems he has managed to get his arm stuck inside of something tight, and it's turning purple and she's asking them to send someone out to get him out.

And I think, oh fuck that sucks, but there's nothing I can do about it. I would just complicate the situation. And I'm literally about to be like, thank god the fire department or whatever is gonna get here shortly and get the kid out and he'll prolly be fine, and right before I tune out, I hear the lady hang up the phone, start talking to the lady walking up to her, to tell her they were on the way, and then these adults start laughing, and... I realized, it was AT this kid.

And this... Tapped my brain a little, something about the way they laughed, so I stayed tuned in, and within a very short span of time, I hear these two ladies telling this kid that he is going to lose his arm, and then laughing. Like... They are literally terrorizing this kid. He is shrieking at the top of his lungs and saying he's sorry to her, and calling her mommy and I'm like, holyshit your MOM is saying that shit to you? And as far as I can tell, this wasn't some shitty attempt at parenting, like, I don't think they were doing this to really drive home that he had fucked up, I think he probably figured that out when his arm started to change colors.

No, this had a particular sort of... undercurrent, to it, that you really only pick up when you've been actually abused by a real sadist yourself. They weren't doing this for any reason other than to make shit worse, it was this casual boomer sort of thing, the sort of attitude you see a pissed off boomer level at some poor service worker when they don't get all of their nuggies or whatever. They didn't see this kid as human. And it was clearly showing because they were just taking turns telling him how they were gonna have to get a saw and cut it off and half his blood was gonna come out and they probably wouldn't even numb it, and it was gonna hurt soooo bad, and he'd need a fake hand for the rest of his life. This kid couldn't have been more than like, seven, by the way?

And I had to just sit there and marvel at this absolutely revolting casual cruelty, and then I had to thoroughly mourn the fact that I couldn't do a fucking thing about it because the house is owned, and lived in, by a fucking cop.

Like it's a well known fact that you do not fuck with this house because he is a big manly cop and his family is a cop family and you will get fucking shot for knocking on this dude's door to ask for help in the middle of the night or whatever because, apparently, that literally almost happened once according to one of my neighbors who's drunk boyfriend tried to kill her one night.

One of the signs on this place's porch, right next to the door, literally says "Give me a reason." with a picture of an assault rifle on it. They fly a blue line flag and an american flag where the stars have been replaced with guns right over the garage.

I wish I was making any of this up. I wish I could help that kid. I wish I could fucking do something. I wanted so fucking badly to walk up and tell them to leave that poor kid the fuck alone. I started filming it, but when I played it back, the audio wasn't clear enough to make any of it out and the EMT's showed up within six minutes and had this kid free in like two more. My ride showed up and I got in and we left. Because... What am I gonna do?

And now all I can think about is the fact that we absolutely fucked up tying the child protective services and the militarized law enforcement agencies together into the same system, because if I called CPS? Not only would I need to PROVE my case somehow, but I might turn that kid's life into a crapshoot where the system might destroy him even worse, and then on top of that I'd risk literally being destroyed myself because Sally Dispatch or Karen CPS agent might just be friends with these people and maybe goes to a BBQ of theirs from time to time or comes over to have a beer. They might just decide to let them in on who the busybody piece of shit is that tried to frame them for child abuse just to "let them know, so they could protect themselves".

In fact I worry I've put too many identifying details in this post already tbh. But I honestly just cannot sit on this without telling the fucking world what I saw somehow.

#tw abuse

[apex-academy]

Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#2)

No new floors to investigate this time. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do now. There’s still that student file cabinet, I guess? Or maybe I should check on the people I still haven’t seen. Or Aidan. He did look a little worse for wear, now that I’m thinking about it.

The options swirl in my head, but I can’t quite seem to reach out and grip one to commit to.

“......”

Maybe I’ll just rest for now.

...

After some time spent half-reading, half-dozing, I’m broken from my tired stupor by a knock on the door. 

“You in here?”

“...”

Okay, mostly broken from it. Not enough to register whose voice that is, but enough to get up and go check. After a minute of trying to tug the door open, I realize it’s still locked.

Really that kind of day, huh?

But at least it saves me from hesitating once I’m physically able to open it. I’m met with a clash of loud colors that are pretty easy to identify.

“Ah, Kanagi.”

“Yo. You had lunch yet?”

I shake my head, even if it takes me a minute to parse the question. When did lunchtime get here?

“You?”

“I’m, like, goin’ around first.”

“Already gotta bring Iggy his, so. Might as well see where else my, like, delivery service or whatever’s going today.”

“I’m good to get something myself, I think. You need any help?”

She heaves a loud sigh. 

“Probably??"

“Like, at this point, I’m mostly just peeling fruit and trying not to set spaghetti on fire.”

“...Yeah, I can help.”

“Sweet.”

The walk to the cafeteria is a blur, like most everything else right now. I sure hope no one’s been confiding anything important to me. Or at least nothing they wanted me to remember.

Kanagi kicks the kitchen door open for the both of us and grabs herself a yogurt drink.

“You wanna do the fruit or the s’getti?”

“Are those our only options?”

She shrugs. “ ‘s all I got, but if you got better ideas, go for it, dude.”

I wander around the little island.

“Plenty of cookbooks if we need ideas.”

“Not sure I’m up for that much effort. Maybe some hand rolls or something?”

“Whyyyy not.” 

“I can totally get the rice stuff going, but, like, you might wanna do the actual stuff yourself if you don’t want it crunchy.”

“Raw crunchy or burnt crunchy?”

“...Yes.”

“...”

“ ‘Less you like it that way! Seems like most peeps totally don’t, though.”

“Are you ‘most peeps’?”

“No way, dude.”

True on so many levels.

“And they put you in charge of cooking.”

“Like, sometimes? Depends on who feels like trash and who doesn’t. That super keeps swapping around.”

“Always gotta at least take Iggy his, though.”

“Yeah, guess he’s not in any shape to be cooking, huh.”

Between that and Yuki... being gone...

...

“Wait. Am... Am I the only one here who can cook?”

“Prolly.”

“...................” This is the most bizarre twist of fate I’ve suffered through yet.

“Okay, well. Let’s find some stuff to chop up.”

She shoots me a finger gun. “That, I can totally do.”

We rummage through the fridge and freezer for fish and vegetables. Maybe some cream cheese. I don’t know.

I’m still not qualified for this job, but we’ve survived this far. As long as I don’t cook up some very severe food poisoning, everything should be fine.

And just as I think that, Kanagi starts flinging knives around to get chopping. I can only make out one healing cut on her hand at the moment, so that’s... probably also fine. 

Maybe she should’ve asked Tsunyasha for help, if that’s how we’re playing this. 

Kanagi attempts to hum about three notes before quitting. She looks at me over her shoulder as I start pouring rice.

“Yo, you wanna play a couple sets once this's done?”

“Of volleyball? Not really feeling quick enough on my feet today.”

Or in my head. The possibility of me zoning out as a ball approaches my face at Mach 5, combined with the fact I don’t stand any kind of chance against her competitively, does not incline me to agree to this.

“ ‘Kay.”

She may or may not seem a little more upset than I’d expect. Too much of my focus is just on not chopping, burning, or otherwise ripping any fingers off. 

I succeed, and we assemble some weird form of sushi-and-fruit bentos for everyone. Not very artistic, but that isn’t my M.O. with food.

Not gonna think about whose it is. Was. Not now.

I focus on Kanagi stacking up the boxes instead.

“Aaaand delivery hours. Woo-hoo.”

“You seem excited.”

“Yyyyeah, not really.”

Too excited to pick up on sarcasm.

Either way, I help with the deliveries. I’m not allowed to enter Mahavir’s room, apparently—something about Aidan, and me in particular, and an extra degree of distance transmission-wise—but there’s no trouble with the rest. Bentos on proverbial doorsteps, no knives or pieces of chalk thrown. I think Kanagi appreciates the help. Doesn’t seem like she’s in an appreciative kind of mood.

What does it say about the rest of us when even Kanagi seems a little dull?

Nothing. We all just need some rest.

It doesn’t have to be anything worse than that.

[BACK] [NEXT]

#apexplot #apex6 #fangan

[chanluster]

10/10 | {m} ; {c} ; {f}

oneshot | friends with benefits! au | 18.7k words

“Because what you feel for your best friend cannot be described in words, but in numbers.”

s u m m a r y > > you and bang chan had no secrets between one other. each detail of your life would be discussed with your best friend of forever, no matter how insignificant it may be, through a little system you both had concocted — through a small rating. a number out of ten. a simple concept, used from being a child and rating your cookie a solid eight out of ten to your later years in high school, giving your first kiss a measly five. however, when you confess an average rating of your sex life in one hazy evening, chan decides this dilemma cannot be solved with buying you consolation cookies. he must simply raise that rating, all by himself.

w a r n i n g s > > friends to lovers! au, college! au, music! major chan, music! major reader, you both are literally soulmates, came out the womb holding hands, so much teasing, sexual! tension! chan has a massive fucking cock (i mean isn’t it obvious already), shit loads of making out, aggression, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving), unprotected sex (stay safe homies!!!), kinda hate sex, orgasming left and right, ex! hyunjin, who’s also really bad at sex lmfaoaoao sorry king, chan is hella soft dom at the start but goes !!! hella hard later!!!! (i mean idk but) shit ton of fluff, friend! jisung which chan gets soooo jealous of, reader is so fucking annoyin, teensy weensy bit of angst, and yeh basically me venting out my love for chan once again

p l a y l i s t > > here!

a u t h o r ’ s n o t e > > this is dedicated to my dear friend chloe, boo i love u so much and thank you for that insane prompt :( also help this feels so rushed to me at the end but i hope y’all do enjoy <3

t a g l i s t > > @hanflix @thatonepieceofpineapple @kimkailover @decembermoonskz @smilesohwas @missskzbiased @illicit-roses @embroideredstarz @freckledquokka @moonluvbunny @aliceu @coupscarat @maedesculpaeusoubi @baby-wolf @multi-fandom-kpop-stan​ @minaamhh @leescrt

back to masterlist

“I’M SORRY, BUT I DON’T THINK I CAN DO THIS ANYMORE.”

Hyunjin’s face faltered completely at your words. It was expected, really. The poor boy was not anticipating this news.

“Wh-what?” he asked, a little too loudly, catching the stares of a few others in the coffee shop. You immediately glared at him, and he retracted back into his seat, but still had a befuddled expression on his face. 

You sighed a little. “Look,” you started, swirling your latte with a thin, wooden stirrer. “I’m going to be completely honest with you. I just think we’re much better off as friends.”

“Friends?” the boy flinched at the term, and even you had to hide your self-distaste. God, ____, at least try to be a little nicer! “Damn it, we’ve been dating for nearly three months, and you think we’d automatically become friends?!” he leaned in, knitting his eyebrows in growing desperation. “What the hell happened?”

You fought hard to not scratch the back of your neck. And possibly run away from the shop. Taking a long sip, you tried to feign the most sympathetic expression you could muster. “Hyunjin, please…”

“B-but, babe—” he started, and his eyes widened, trying to grab onto your hands which cupped the latte. “I don’t understand, we were so happy!” He huffed a smile, trying to convince you of your oh-so heavenly times spent with him. “Why are you thinking like this?”

You tried not to retract your hand from his — not only because it was hard to console him, but because they were embarrassingly sweaty. “Don’t think I have just done this on a whim. I have thought long about this decision.”

Finally, something out of your mouth which wasn’t a blatant lie. You had been thinking of breaking up with this goon — had the notion in your mind for half the time you dated him.

“____,” he said, and the melancholy you heard in his voice had you silencing your tongue. “What’s happened?” He began to caress your hand with his fingers. “Have I...have I done something wrong?”

Oh no. There it was. The reaction you dreaded.

Well, kind of. But still. Not the reaction you imagined in the perfect situation. 

Reluctantly, you put a hand over his fingers, hoping that your face was a painting of sympathy. 

“Hyunjin.”

Don’t say it, girl! Don’t you dare!

“It’s...it’s not you.”

You put your hand on your heart. 

“It’s me.”

Oh, Jesus.

Your eyes raised to his own, wide and glistening. 

Now, you knew Hwang Hyunjin was not the brightest kid on campus. The boy, who once asked you what the purpose of a spork was, may not have possessed the most intelligence, but you were scared that he may be smart enough to figure out that what you just said was complete, utter bullshit. 

Face it, ____. You’re done for.

A few tears spilled from his eyes, and a pang of guilt shot through you. “I-I see.” 

He did not let go of your hands. “We can still be...friends, right?” he sniffled, blinking at you rather irritatingly. “Like, we can still hang out together?”

You raised a brow, but reigned in a sarcastic reply. The boy would probably not even understand. “Of course,” you replied, a saccharine smile on your face. “But I think it’s best if we had some space from each other, okay?”

That was not the answer he seemed to be looking for, but he nodded, a little sadly. “Okay.” He still refused to take his hand away. “Does that mean I can’t rock up at yours midnight anymore if the junior needs a little taking care of?” 

Your brows could not help furrow in absolute exasperation. “Yes, Hyunjin,” you monotoned, unable to believe that you put up with this man for three months. “Now can you let go of my hand?” 

Realising his clammy hold on you, he flushed, looking away from your directory gaze. “I...should go, then.”

“No, no,” you insisted, getting up from your seat as you grabbed onto your drink. “I shall leave. I’m the one who dumped this news on you.” 

You debated leaving without paying for the latte — you knew the boy was still infatuated enough to cover your expenses. Sadly, shame coursed through your veins, and you cursed yourself for feeling a little sympathy for your now ex. “Here,” you offered, fishing out a little cash from your jacket. “For the drink.”

When you nearly stepped past him, you stopped, looking down at him as he tilted his head upwards. Your hand itched to put upon his shoulder, but you knew better. Hyunjin would only take that as a hopeful sign.

“I’m sorry,” was the last thing you said before you left the coffee shop.

Upon falling into a leisurely step onto the street, you let out a harsh breath, an endless amount of relief washing over you.

You were almost delighted to let Hwang Hyunjin go.

Now, it was not like he was a monster who had caged you into his two-feet-squared, dingy flat. In fact, the boy was, in almost every way, a decent boyfriend, whose stupid personality earned him a few laughs. 

Although extremely corny, the problem was not truly all him.

It was partly you as well.

Hearing your phone vibrate, you brought it out from your jeans pocket, already having an inkling on who the sender was, spamming you with messages.

CHRIS THE PISS :

bitch have you done it?

CHRIS THE PISS :

helloooooo??

CHRIS THE PISS :

hoe answer the phone i’m dying!! 

CHRIS THE PISS :

or prolly hyunjin at this moment lmaooo

You could not help the eyeroll which escaped from his words, and you decided to ignore him until you arrived at your destination. 

Which, evident from the persistent vibrations still, you figured you could not do.

CHRIS THE PISS :

i KNOW ur reading my messages DAMN just tell me!!

CHRIS THE PISS :

unless this is hyunjin and u killed her FUCK

CHRIS THE PISS :

haha dude whats poppin!! best man for ____ by far don't know why she was breaking up w u 

YOU :

chan i will kill u :)

CHRIS THE PISS :

hyunjin i promise i didn't mean it when i said u looked like a cheese string w ur new hair

CHRIS THE PISS :

that was ur girl putting words in my mouth 

YOU:

omfg chan STFUUU i’m coming

CHRIS THE PISS :

PLS HYUNJIN I SWEAR UR SEXC

Letting the man panic, you turned a left into student residence, buildings lined down the street, providing accommodation for hundreds of people like you in need of a place to sleep, eat, party, and contemplate the inevitability of death under.

Smiling at a few acquaintances, you entered the designated building, finding yourself with dozens of doors of the same, dead colour. Walking along the hallway, you stopped right at the very last one, bringing out your keys.

With a single twist you unlocked the door, but before you wrapped your hand around the knob the door swung open, catching you completely off guard.

“Funny, Hyunjin, how did you manage to transform into a little bitch so quickly?”

You cursed at the man who welcomed you.

“Damn it, Chan,” you said, hand on your chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Sad it didn’t kill you off, then.”

You heard him splutter into laughter at your sad attempts to pinch his shoulder, glaring daggers into his crescent eyes. The bumbling idiot was Bang Chan, the one man you managed to keep for your entire life. That too is purely because none of you could manage a stable, healthy relationship — which was a shame, of course, when your best friend, with his fluffy, raven curls, black-oversized hoodie and sweatpants, was admired by so many. You often wondered how you had not fallen at his feet when he smiled at you, but then he’d open his mouth and all would be understood, as your anger would flare up, and rush to hit him as hard as possible. 

He gave you such a smile then, fingers gripping the doorframe. “How is Rapunzel, then? Sent him back to the tower?”

Wrenching his hand off the frame, which nearly had him falling onto the floor, you side-stepped past his stumbling figure, peeling off your jacket. “Rapunzel is never stepping in our lands again.”

After regaining his step, he muttered a cursed endearment your way and sat himself down on the couch, instantly settling his laptop upon his legs. “Oh, God. How badly did you break his heart, ____?”

Smiling, you dumped the jacket on the side table as you entered the living room, settling on the other end of his sofa. Propping your legs upon his, you pondered over the answer, and said, “At least a good seven.”

Chan let out a little whistle. “Oh, he’s definitely causing a shitshow on the groupchat tonight.” A huffed laugh was his answer. “Want Chinese or Indian tonight?”

“Surprise me,” you said as he brought out his phone. He dialled a number, and then you added, “Actually, can we please get Chinese?”

“No, we’re getting Indian.”

You raised a brow. “Didn’t you cry the last time you had their special curry?” 

The man stared at you for a minute before sighing, putting the phone to his ear. “I’d like your least spiciest dish please.”

He groaned as you pushed his legs off the couch, laughing at his pathetic tolerance towards spice. As he carried on with his order, you grabbed the TV remote, surfing through the channels. 

Even after all these years, you still found it endearing how Chan understood the depth of the numbers you tell him. The system between you two had been created during kindergarten, when, on the last day, you both had received such delicious cookies that words could not express the joy you felt when having the first bite. It was a mere joke at first, rating random classmates despicably low in middle school to even more serious situations, when you moaned to your best friend of your mundane kiss, expecting fireworks and butterflies yet were only met with an over-enthusiastic tongue. 

Chan himself used this system  — it was the reason you knew of his distaste towards spicy food, and certain girls he had dated in the past. Even now, when the two of you had started college together, working on the same projects and going to the same parties, this concoction had not been shelved in your memories. Although this may be something which others might deem insignificant, the concept had become a pillar of your friendship with this absolute loser.

The food arrived within the hour, and you both continued your box set as the plastic containers were cracked open, the pungent smell of curries and biryanis filling the room. Chan provided the plates and cutlery while you poured him the sufficient amount, and you rebuked his whining as you added the spicier dishes onto his plate.

“I refuse to let you eat only korma, Crispy,” you scolded. “Prick, careful! Don’t spill it on your laptop!”

“Bitch!” he yelped as a bit of the residue nearly stained his sweats, but was saved by his hands. “Just ruin everything I wear, why don’t you? Now I got curry on my fingers!”

You propped your legs over his again, eyes upon the screen once more, and the action occurring. “Just lick it off?”

“How about you do it for me?” the boy then simpered out, and you nearly tossed your entire dish on his head. 

“Let’s just focus on Tommy and his cocaine problem,” you dismissed him, but returned his impish smile as you elbowed him, nearly causing his food to stain his hoodie.

The two of you seemed to settle down after a bit and watched the show, commenting on the terrible choices the characters were making, and then boasted of how you and him could easily be the better leader from the protagonist. Soon, you had finished your takeout, and after Chan followed, he got up, hurrying into the kitchen situated behind the doorway in the lounge. He then came back, you delighted to find his hands occupied with two tubs of Ben & Jerrys’.

“Gimme, gimme, gimme!” you sang, snatching one of the tubs from him and pulling open the cover, digging straight in. “I didn’t know you brought ice cream!”

“Thought it’d help with the breakup,” he confessed, settling back into the sofa, shuffling closer to you. “But it doesn’t look like you need it.”

“Oh, I can’t believe Hyunjin broke my heart like this!”

Chan shook his head at your melodrama. “You may fool the looney princess, but you’re not fooling me.”

“You know me too well,” you said, which he agreed to with an absent-minded hum, eating his dessert.

There was a short pause, a comfortable silence reigning upon you both for a little before your best friend broke it, gulping down his ice cream.

“____?” 

“No, you’re not having any of mine.”

Chan prodded you lightly with his foot. “No, I don’t mean that. I was just wondering something.”

“Shoot.”

“You’re not...upset, right?” He took a bite of his ice cream. “Like, I know you always complained about him, but breakups can be difficult.”

You looked at him, and saw genuine concern painted on his face — along with a little vanilla stain on the corner of his lips. “You don’t have to pretend to be happy if you’re not, okay?” he continued. “Especially with me.”

Your heart melted slightly. “Of course, Chan, don’t worry. I wouldn’t ever lie to you.” 

Turning to the TV screen, you sighed as you thought of your recent relationship. “There were good moments for sure. He was still a sweet guy, you know?” You then stabbed the creamy plains inside the tub. “It was just so...dull.”

The man beside you took in another bite, if a bit slow. “What do you mean?”

Following him, you relished the chocolate goodness, swallowing. “Dates were kind of boring. I carried most of the conversations because he’s too thick to talk about anything.”

Chan let out a soft snort. “I remember you telling me about it. I can certainly believe it.”

“Well, you won’t believe what I’m about to tell you next.” You focused on your ice cream, a sarcastic smile plastered upon your face. “Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin was terrible at sex.”

You did not need to see your best friend to sense his shock. “What?”

A small chuckle escaped you. “First time he fucked me, I think I cried. Not because it was so good, no, but because it was so bad.”

“No way,” Chan said, brows furrowed. “Didn’t you say he had a big dick or something?”

“That’s the downside, bud,” you countered, halfway through your tub. “Because he had a massive cock he thought that was enough for me to enjoy. But it’s not. He just did not know what to do with it!” 

The man had been silenced. He took another bite of his ice cream, in disbelief. “So you were...deprived of pleasure?”

“Deprived?” You scoffed. “Chan, I thirsted for a crumb of pleasure. God, can you believe I’ve faked nearly all my orgasms with him?”

This time, your friend glanced at you in horror. Carrying on, you said, “The only real orgasm I had was not even because of him. God, I was thinking about Lee Donghyuck singing between my legs.”

A soft growl entered your ears. “Oh Christ.”

“Bastard was so proud when I came all over him,” you crowed, trying to sweeten your bitterness with the dessert. “If only I told him I undid myself for an idol I’m never going to meet.”

Your friend did not say anything. The episode finished, and when you noticed his further silence, you used it to your advantage, starting a romantic comedy before he could even complain.

Even with the movie on for about twenty minutes, and the romance you thoroughly enjoyed, the man stayed quiet, idly stirring his melted ice cream in the tub. You ignored his rather odd behaviour, assuming he was either thinking of his assignment or had gotten a brain freeze. Either way, it let you watch your movie in peace, swooning outwardly at the man’s teasing to the girl.

One hour in, and you asked if Chan was okay. “Yeah...yeah, I’m good,” was his answer, sending you a second-long smile before going back to his brain freeze. You raised a confused brow, but went back to the chick flick, gasping when the boy went back for his love.

This was it. The fireworks, the passion which exuded from the mere actions of lips enveloping lips, hands holding onto waists or necks or locks and refusing to let go. You craved for your heart to drop down in lust as you let yourself fall, be wrapped up in another as you undid yourself. Where was this? Where was this for you?

Did you not deserve your desires to be fulfilled? Did you not deserve to have your entire world turned upside down in pure exhilaration?

Before you knew it, the credits rolled, and you let out a long, laboured sigh, leaning into the cushions. “Maybe it’s time I find myself a millionaire who’d pay me to have sex with me.”

The man was still looking at the now black screen. “Do you mean a prostitute?”

“Well, yes, but—” you groaned. “You know what? Maybe I’m meant to stay forever displeased.”

It was after a long time your best friend spoke. “Or…” he cleared his throat. “You find yourself someone who would pleasure you.”

You turned to him. “Wowie, thank you for a perfect solution! I really wouldn’t know what I’d do without you.”

Then, you saw his eyes darken. “____.” He propped the tub upon the coffee table. “Why search for other alternatives when you have options right here?”

Confusion marred your mind, not just from his words, but his entire change of character. “Chan, what are you on about?”

“____,” he said, and his hand inched closer to yours. “ I’m saying you should have a friends with benefits.”

The silence was suddenly heard. You did not realise the sheer weight of this man’s gaze till his very stare gravitated you to him. The lights were dimmed, and all you could see from the laptop’s light was his face — his beautiful face. 

What was all this? Why was your best friend looking at you like that? Why were you being affected by his gaze?

“I…” You could barely get the words out. “I never thought about that before.”

Chan had no such problem. “Well, maybe you should. There are many who would gladly be that person for you.”

You gave him a look. “And who would they be?”

A slight cock of his head. “____, who is your best friend, in the same class as you, share the same interests and would help you out in any way whatsoever?”

The question rather befuddled you. Why couldn’t the man just say the answer already? You thought of the few viable options, tossing, turning the names. 

Then it occurred to you. Your friend’s face sparked a little in what could only have been hope.

“I know!” you exclaimed, holding onto his arm. “I should ask Jisung!”

The little sliver of hope in his eyes morphed into annoyance. “What the fuck?”

Raising your brow, you asked, “Is that not the right answer?” You listed out the evidence. “He’s basically my best friend, is in music with us, we like similar things and would be willing to help me in any situation. I think.”

When you were done, you found yourself more confused when Chan closed his eyes, shaking his head. “What?” you demanded.

“Oh my God.”

His fingers caressed yours, and you gasped to find your skin prickling at the touch. You raised your eyes to his, and found yourself lost for words.

“You dumb bitch, I should be your friends-with-benefits.”

Your mouth dropped.

Perhaps you would have said something, but then his thumb began stroking your skin, and you figured it was better to relish that instead. Thus, you looked at him, gobsmacked, not entirely sure what to say to his declaration. 

It seemed Chan was a little nervous too. “Look, I can tell you’re surprised…” he paused, a little lost for words as well. “Fuck, I guess I shouldn’t have suggested so early into the breakup, but you just…”

He pinned you with his gaze. “I couldn’t have my best friend miss out on the pleasure she deserves. And if that means giving you the pleasure myself, then I will do it.”

Bang Chan. Not just the best friend you’ve ever had, but the man who proposed benefits to this certain friendship.

“Well,” you got out, after what seemed like eternity. “Well damn.”

“We don’t have to do anything right now. Or even anytime soon.” He let go off your hands, and you did not know why the touch was missed so greatly. “Just...think about it for me, will you?”

You didn’t really have it in you to refuse. “Of course,” you said, feeling the need to touch something. Your eyes fell upon the remote, and figured you should distract yourself by watching the next episode of the series you previously watched. 

You needed a clear distraction, or else Chan would not need to wait long for his answer.

The episode began, and you watched, clamping your lips together as you felt the man shuffle closer to you, one hand sprawled on the top of the couch with his other hand idly surfing on his laptop. You rooted your eyes to the screen, finding yourself engulfed in 1920s England, trying to forget that your best friend left no space between you two.

Managing to somehow distract yourself from the lack of distance, you even began to relax, swooning softly of the gangster’s mannerisms towards his love interests, their intimate dancing in her bedroom. It was touching, and you even let yourself lean into your friend, who, too, glanced every now and then, a little smile upon his face.

Everything was fine and dandy until the characters started to kiss.

Now, there was nothing wrong with kissing. You were a hopeless romantic, and adored to see the actions of love on screen, the final breaking of barriers between two characters.

The problem was, the kissing did not seem to end there. The bigger problem was that this lust on screen made you all the more aware of your best friend beside you.

You froze, watching with no small amount of confused shock as the characters increased their desires, unbuttoning their clothes, discarding them as their lips moved against each other’s. Your eyes widened at the nudity, once never a bother but suddenly extremely embarrassing, as they collided, bare chest to bare chest.

The matters did not help at all when you sensed the increased beating of Chan’s heart, almost as loud as the instruments harmonising in the background. His searching on his laptop had ceased, as frozen as you were as his eyes refused to look away to the man and woman making love.  

It was too much. You had seen much worse scenes in your life before, but never had one made you so hot and bothered. Of course you knew why, though. Of course you knew, when the man you laid your head upon was breathing harder than you do when you walk up a flight of stairs. 

You did not waste a minute longer as you pointed the remote to the TV, and switched the screen off. Completely black, void of further lust radiating through the glass. 

A shuddered breath escaped Chan. “Well...double damn.”

You did not answer back. Only distanced yourself on the sofa, his fingers on the couch brushing against the back of your head. His touch may have been the last thing you needed then.

But that was not true. Seeing that sex scene, all glorified and affectionate, had you craving his touch. Your eyes could not bear to meet him, but his presence was suffocating enough. God, if you did not leave that couch now, you would dare to do something quite unimaginable.

Chan did not seem to move either. Your presence, too, had him nearly choking out a pained sob. Anymore time spent, and he would have another problem erecting soon.

At last, when a few minutes seemed like hours, you felt your friend stir. You were surprised to be devastated at the prospect of him leaving.

You were further shocked when, as Chan mustered all the strength in himself to get off the couch, he was stopped by your hand encircling his wrist. 

Whirling his head at your direction, his eyes widened. He was met with your own aghast ones, as your hand tugged him back to the couch.

You did not let go of his wrist as you whispered the words you never thought would have left your mouth that night.

“Let’s do it, Chan.”

His hand went limp in your hold.

For a second you thought he died under your grasp, but the way he parted his mouth went against your judgement. Perhaps you had sent his living soul flying out of his body, but you could not blame him — you did not feel at all like yourself just then.

“I wanna do it,” you murmured, refusing to let go. 

Chan’s eyes darted to the tight hold upon his wrist, and then to you once more. He opened his mouth, closing it straight after as he glanced away.

With a heavy sigh, he looked to you once more, an abundance of emotions swirling in his usually mischievous, soft eyes.

“Are you sure, ____?” He leaned a little closer, causing your heart to malfunction for a second. “You don’t have to think about it now—”

“Well, it’s all I can think about,” you cut him off, eyes never leaving him, despite the reddening of your cheeks. “And I want to do it.

“Like I said, Chan.” You shuffled a little closer, and your knees brushed against his. “I am deprived of pleasure.”

The man blinked once, twice, taking your declaration all in. He had to tell himself that this was not a dream, but a very much a fortunate reality, and that you were asking him of something he had been wanting to give you for a very long time.

There it was. Something he wasn’t quite ready to admit. You wanting your desires met by him was so much more than enough.

Dreaming still, he slithered one hand around your waist, almost like second nature as the other found refuge upon your face. His fingers were tender, softly caressing your cheeks as his eyes beheld you in a way he had never before..

This change of sight had you unable to look away from him.

“If you feel uncomfortable with all this…” he swept away a stray curl. “I will stop. That’ll be the end of it.”

You nodded, finding solace within his eyes. “I know.”

But there was no discomfort. Rather an impatient welcome, a growing urge for your needs met. Promises fulfilled. 

When you sensed him lean closer, so shy and yet so determined, hands still holding you, those vows were sure to be carried out.

You found out in the best way possible — the second when Chan brushed his lips against yours. 

His touch had you flying out your skin; well, not really, but it sure felt as such, when his mouth moulded with yours, a confirmation that he was strangely perfect for your own two lips, that he was meant to embed himself upon your mouth. 

You closed your eyes, heart climbing up your chest as your hands skimmed around his neck. Chan began his movements, and you were so unaccustomed to the actions that you could not help but be led by his kiss. The man had a way of making you listen to his every order, vocalised or not. 

The kiss was so...unreal. It was all that rang in your mind, over and over as the man took his time; he carried out a sensual rhythm upon your lips, not only to avoid overwhelming you, but to fully take in his situation — that he was kissing you, and no other girl who he had never dreamed of. 

He had all the time in the world for this.

The hand upon your waist gripped onto you a little harder, nails skirting around the hem of your shirt. His tongue teased you now, running along for entrance, to delve inside and drink in your every essence. Your mouth practically begged the man to prowl inside, opening up to him completely, a signal of full trust. 

You wanted this as much as he did. 

His elated rush was expressed through his tongue, when it slithered inside your mouth. Butterflies erupted in your body at the way he swirled it along with yours, almost playing with your tongue as if you both did. Of course, this is slightly different, because your gimmicks with Chan never had you salivating at the mouth. Nor feeling like you’re about to leak into your clothes from his touches.

Which really was the situation you ended up in; Chan, his hand now skimming under your shirt, revelling the skin of your abdomen, warming beneath his touch. The hand, once upon your face, had latched upon your locks, while you ran your fingers through his own velvety hair, nearly undoing yourself over the soft feel. 

Just when you thought he was going in for more, he broke away, hands still upon you — your breathing was ragged, the man in front of you panting slightly as well. His eyes, with no small amount of surprise, seemed a little feverish, whether that be from a random cold he contracted during the minutes he kissed you, or…

Or, as you found yourself biting your lip, he took an intoxicated toll over you, and how exquisite it was to drive his tongue in your mouth.

“Better than Rapunzel?” He whispered, so close his breath fanned your lips, spit-slick thanks to him. 

You made sure he was aware of your fingers threading in his locks, eliciting a low murmur. “Rapunzel better not leave the tower again.”

Chuckling, he wasted no time before he was upon you again, an invisible leash on him threatening to snap. He drove the shirt higher, skirting up your sides until he broke away from you for a mere second before peeling the shirt off of you and tossing it beside him.

Heaving, the sight of you in a bra was making the leash all the more tight, hands never leaving your sides as he latched onto your neck. Leaving open-mouthed kisses, down and down until his lips trailed past your collarbone, you let the moans leave your mouth, heightened and quick and unexpected. Suddenly he descended on you, kneeeling on the floor with hands following suit. 

Pleasure. You were oozing with pleasure as you hurried for the hems of his black hoodie, needing to have it off and run your hands on the expanse of his chest. Chan, a little preoccupied, did not realise your demands until you whined out your request.

“Chan—!” you gasped out as his lips left your belly, fingers upon the buttons of your trousers. “Hoodie, I need it off!”

The man only continued with his task, taking the zip down. “Up,” he rushed out, gesturing with his hand.

Dazed, you replied with a confused murmur, only understanding the need to take his stupid hoodie off.

He looked up from his endeavours, and the sight of him hovering between your legs nearly undid you. “I mean your hips, baby, put them up.” He grabbed onto the sides of your jeans. “I wanna take this off.”

Gulping, you raised your hips, giving Chan ease to pull your jeans, all the way down until your legs were bare, save for the soiled underwear which he instantly landed his eyes on. 

His mouth slipped out an uneasy fuck, which was just the right way to have you leaking even further. “Chan, come on,” you hurried, seething at the throbbing. 

His hands pushed you back on the couch, travelling down until they caressed the back of your knees. Pulling you closer from there, he leaned in until he was a few inches away from your moistened cunt, hurting more the longer he made you wait.

It wasn’t his fault, really. He still felt as if he’s living a dream he did not deserve. 

Fingers drumming against the back of your knees, the man blew a little upon your folds, and you let out a strained hiss at the soft breeze. This hypersensitivity was going to be your undoing, but even the smallest of actions brought you such thrill.

“I’m about to spoil you good, ____,” he whispered, and before you could reply, he descended.

The first kitty lick along the surface had you in shock.

Tendrils of pleasure gushed inside you, lurking all over your body as Chan swiped his tongue along the outside of your cunt, teasing, shying away, awaiting your reaction. You answered him with an indecipherable noise, a sound which had never escaped you before.

Maybe because no one had ever played with your cunt like this.

You truly had wasted your time with Hyunjin — this man, tasting your arousal, let out a satisfied hum, and when he dug deeper with his tongue, spreading your legs further, the moans you let escape were, for the first time, absolutely real. No acting, no bullshit.

Just like your best friend promised.

“Chan—!” You stuttered out, when he began circling your clit. “God, just like that!” You encouraged further, hips shaking at the way he made a mess of you. 

In response his hands left your legs, pressing them upon your hips. To your horror he paused his actions, peering up from your legs. 

The slick shining upon his lips could well have made you cum on his face right then and there. “I need you to stay still, baby,” he said, his hands on your hips keeping you in place, as his eyes did the same. “So I can do this properly.

“I don’t want you getting half-assed pleasure, okay?”

His soft demands, his calm explanations brought you in a further state of frenzy. You could not nod faster, chuckling emitting from him as his hands travelled down once more. 

“Good girl.”

And his mouth was upon your cunt again, this time the leash finally snapping as his tongue hardened against the seams. Your moans could have been heard in the hallways, but you didn’t particularly care when Chan, in the midst of his ravenous lapping, introduced the prospect of his fingers, caressing your dripping folds, swiping them over around the edges.

You didn’t know what to do — your hands scrambled to fist the fabric of the couch, laying back against the pillows. The hold grew tighter when your best friend slid his middle finger inside of you.

The journey may have been slow, but that was what made it all the more delightful. Feeling it go deeper and deeper had a particularly loud groan flying out of you, but the rhythm he adopted, pulling it out, but then diving it back again without leaving your cunt, had you delirious. 

A once foreign, unimaginable feeling you never thought you’d experience, was back inside — the heavy sensation deep within your gut, like a dull ache which grew more known the harder Chan worked between your legs. The feeling you had only ever experienced when you imagined Donghyuck instead of your ex-boyfriend in this similar situation. 

Fuck, there it is, you thought. The feeling of your incoming orgasm.

And it was not going to go if this man worked harder than the devil tonight.

“Chan—fuck—” you got cut off when he increased the speed of his finger inside of you. “I-I’m close.”

Never ceasing his finger, he looked up at you, hooded eyes welcoming you despite the tenderness on his face. “You’re doing so good, ____. So fucking good for me,” he cooed, melting your heart despite the situation. 

This time, he accompanied his fingering with a second digit, stretching out your walls and working harmoniously together in making you submit to him. Already you felt as if he’d filled you up, and the actions of his digits practically scissoring inside of you had every muscle in your body readying for release.

He dove back in, merciless to your clit, and all this work, everything at once, was so much that when you cried out, your release had to follow through. You couldn’t control yourself as you let your cum escape, staining the couch and the floor — most importantly, how most of it landed in Chan’s mouth. 

Breathing unevenly, and louder than you ever thought possible, you closed your eyes, slumping further into the couch. You sensed an emptiness inside you, and figured Chan had taken out his fingers. Opening your eyes, you saw him close your legs together, propping his head upon your lap, hands supporting his chin. He looked up at you, licking his lips free of your residue.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

The man smiled at you. “Satisfied?” he asked, fingers caressing your skin. 

Oh, of course you were. Damn it, you were more than satisfied — you were positively elated. If he had managed to make you cum with his fingers and tongue alone, imagine what he could have done with his dick.

You blinked. 

Imagine what he could have done with his dick.

“____?”

Perking up, you looked to the man kneeling before you still, anticipation brimming in his stature. “Please tell me you didn’t fake it.”

Embarrassment engulfed your body at the idea. “Chan, if you really think I faked all of that then I deserve an Oscar.”

Pride washed over his features. “Good.”

You then watched him slowly get up, climbing over you, hands skirting up your figure till he captured your face in his hands and pressed his lips against yours. You had enough strength to kiss him back, but failed to exceed him when he began nibbling upon the swell of your lip, making you revert to stage one of your growing need all over again.

Breaking away, you glanced up at him, holding onto his hoodie. “I want...more.”

The man stilled his actions, hands going limp upon your skin. You had about three seconds of panicking as you tugged on his clothes, whispering, “Wait, Chan, it’s okay if—”

But suddenly, his hands left your face, and the panic increased with you being lifted into the air, his hold under your knees and back as he brought you close to his chest. 

His eyes upon you were a hazard to your well-being. “God, ____, you could really ruin me.”

Your flustered nature was interrupted by Chan rushing to his bedroom, kicking the door open with his feet and pressing quick kisses upon your mouth, your cheeks, all over your face as you giggled out in reaction, arms locked around him.

His room was the same as his attire, black on black on even more black, save for a few gold corners and grey instruments settled in the far end of the space. His bed, however, was vast and comfortable, a place you have slept in many a time when late night recording sessions turned into sleepovers.

Gently, he laid you down on his bed, feeling the cool sting of the night air on your cunt, making you shiver. Your bra was useless in keeping you warm, but when Chan began to take off his hoodie, shirt dragging out along with it, you suddenly began to feel a lot hotter.

Discarding the clothes, you were rewarded with the image of shirtless Chan, slightly disheveled due to his endeavours between your legs. His smile revealed a hint of arrogance as he acknowledged your blatant staring, slowly taking off his sweatpants. 

“Careful, baby, or you’ll cum right there,” he mused, noticing the way your legs shivered in ecstasy. He dumped his clothes along with the others, catching sight of his Calvins barely containing his erection.

You felt the mattress press down as he prowled to you upon the bed, the more chaos erupting in your gut the further he came closer. You could barely contain yourself when he hovered over you, lips mere inches from yours. A powerful force within you halted your very breath — you knew, though, that at this particular moment, your entire soul rested in the hands of this man, looking at you through long lashes. 

He enveloped your lips, grinding his clothed erection against your cunt, drinking in your whines, your silent pleas of replacing it with the real deal. He smirked against your mouth, opening the seams as his one hand grabbed onto yours, leading it to the waistband of your boxers. 

Your fingers fumbled to take peel down the fabric, Chan parting from your lips to take it off entirely. His cock sprang free, and you let out a god-awful, shrill-like noise at the way it stood, red and angry and so very fucking big. 

“Fuck me,” you slipped out in a breath, earning a chuckle from him. 

“I very much plan to,” he had the nerve to reply, you wanting very much to slap his shit-eating grin off of him. Or perhaps kiss it till your breath was lost. 

Embarrassed, you tried to look away, but his fingers gripped your chin, leading your eyes to his. Other hand holding onto your hip, he gently positioned himself between your legs, precum already staining your folds. Breathing stunted, your stare reflected subservience, a request to bury his dick inside you already.

He read your every plea. 

Pressing his forehead against yours, he let out a shuddered breath before beginning the final descent.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Chan slid his cock inside — your mouth parted from the transition, at the tightening sensation as he kept going, burying those inches until your eyes were as wide as saucers, unable to look away from him. You dared not move, fear of snapping more a reality in your head than some far-fetched delusion.

Dragging his stare from your slit to your face, he caressed your cheek, offering you a small smile.

“Don’t be quiet, okay?” he asked, hand on your hip like iron. 

Nodding, it was all the signal he needed.

Just as gradually, he began to slide out, and, with his words in mind, you let yourself be shameless. The rhythm of his hips, the pain-stakingly tempered movement, made you whine profusely, and when the man slithered inside once more, moaning lewdly was your only reaction. It was all your brain could think of, when his cock was the sole deity which mattered in this moment.

His pace began to fasten, though, grunting erratically as his grip on you tightened. Your cunt was taking a toll, your second orgasm of the night a great possibility as you felt it inside you, as tangible as the dick being pushed and pulled out into you. 

“F-faster!” you wailed out, and God bless Chan, for he obliged you completely, increasing his rhythm, practically abusing your slit with the way he fucked into you. Tears pricked the corner of your eyes, and you let them fall, for there was no hiding your emotions with this man.

Your best friend could see right through you anyway. 

Chan’s strength seemed unhuman as he thrusted his cock into you faster and faster, and you knew if he did not stop then you would cum all over for the second time. The very image had you on the edge of your sanity.

When his cock hit your g-spot you really believed yourself hitting seventh heaven of delight. White spots blurred your vision, tears now your beloved companion as they trailed down your cheeks. “I’m c-close, fuck—” you tried to voice, but were cut off when slid out once more, tip never leaving your folds. 

His hair stuck to his forehead, beads of sweat peppered on his face as he crushed you with his lips, relishing your whines. His tongue befriended yours, and the swirling of your muscles with each other had brought a new form of high bubbling within you. 

You moaned his name onto his lips, hands sliding around his neck, pulling you as close as physically possible. This was it. You could not wait any longer. You wanted your undoing, and you wanted it now, in these sheets, within his arms, within his hypnotic presence. 

It was incredibly fortunate that Bang Chan could read you like the back of his hand.  

Parting from your mouth, he kissed a sloppy trail all the way to your ear, lips grazing against the lobe. 

“Go on, then,” he purred, leaving a small kiss to your skin. “Cum for me.”

His words were all you needed before you let yourself go, crying out as release poured from the tight spaces your cunt offered, and onto the sheets below. You wheezed in a few breaths, tired gasps gripping your body.

Chan, within the second, pulled out, just in time for him to let out a pained growl as he came onto his bedsheets. Some of the fluids sullied your legs, but seemed the perfect time as he collapsed right beside you, breathing as heavily as you were. 

You and Chan were the only noise in the room ��� however, if one could translate emotions into sound, that would be an entirely different matter. 

At least for you. You could barely contain your elation.

An emptiness may be present inside of you, but it was now replaced with a full heart. Fuck, you could not believe you had finally been given pleasure, such unadulterated satisfaction that you wondered whether it truly occurred, or was just another fantasy — this time with Chan’s face plastered rather than your infatuation of the month.

Sensing the said-man move, you turned to your side, smiling to see his stare fixated on you. Shifting closer, he curled a stray lock from your face behind your ear. “How’re you feeling?” he asked gently, hand on your face still.

You laid your head against your arm. “I am so pissed I didn’t break up with Hyunjin sooner.”

Laughing, his fingers trailed downward, sketching onto your collarbone. “You…” he paused, biting his lip with what you saw, surprisingly, as apprehension. “You really liked it?” 

Your eyes darted to the surroundings, smirk spreading across your lips. “I mean, I am an insanely good actress...”

His shock horror had you spluttering into laughter. When he tried to turn his back to you and sulk, you held onto his arm, keeping him in place. “Oh, stop! You know I’m joking, you big oaf.”

Pouting, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. “You better be,” he muttered, earning further giggles from his truly. The laughter was replaced with your yawning, which Chan instantly picked up on. “Hey, ____, you should sleep.” He began stroking your hair. “You’re really tired.”

You tried to object, but your intended groans become more deep yawns, proving his point. He passed his fingers over your eyelids, fluttering them close. “I’m not hearing anything else!”

Stinging out your tongue in what you hoped was at his direction, you grudgingly obliged. “Fine.”

You felt him sigh upon your face. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight, Hyuck.” 

“Nevermind, I hope you have a terrible sleep.”

With your last round of exhausted laughter, you let yourself fall into oblivion, safe in your best friend’s arms. 

YOU WOKE UP WITH CHAN ALREADY GONE.

It was not such a huge disappointment. The man had warned you before that he had to leave early to meet up with his supervisor. In all honesty, maybe it was good he was not there, next to you in his sheets. 

Your hands gripped those very sheets, raising them right under your chin as you looked up to the ceiling, watching the dried swirls of black paint overlapping each other.

“Oh my God.”

Indeed. Here you were, in your best friend’s bed, basking in his scent, in his world. Of course, you always seemed to smell of him, considering you both never seemed to let go of each other, but last night was different.

Obviously, because Bang Chan had never rocked your shit before. 

Your legs began to tingle at the thought. Even the mere memory had you feeling a mysterious sensation all over your body, reminders of the places Chan had looked, touched, tasted. God, you did not think, did not let yourself think further or you’d be calling that man this second.

You knew you had to get up at some point — you had some recording to do today, and more assignments to hand in. You had tasks, obligations to take care of. Unfortunately, the warmth of your best friend’s bed was much too enticing for you to submit to the requests of reality, and so you let yourself lay there for moments longer, in hope you can recreate the scene in your head once more.

There was no lie about this. Bang Chan knew how to fuck you into another dimension. 

Just when you were about to dream into last night, your phone vibrated harshly against the bedside table. Curious, you stretched out your hand, grabbing the object and checking who so rudely disturbed your shameless manifesting.

CHRIS THE PISS: 

just stopped by the medical room,,, want me to get a wheelchair?

CHRIS THE PISS:

cause im sure asf u can’t walk rn 

You rolled your eyes until it hurt. Stupid prick.

YOU:

i haven’t gotten out of bed actually 

CHRIS THE PISS:

oh damn

CHRIS THE PISS:

i PARALYSED u??

CHRIS THE PISS:

why am i so powerful 

“This asshole,” you muttered. 

YOU:

STFUU COCKY MF

CHRIS THE PISS: 

It’s ok you’ll cute in a wheelchair

YOU:

?!?!?!?!!?!

CHRIS THE PISS:

but tell me 

CHRIS THE PISS:

how good was it

This had you pausing. 

CHRIS THE PISS:

outta ten

Now here was a rating you couldn’t bring yourself to confess.

All you wanted to do was give him a solid ten — the man finally offered you a better view of sex and how it can be appreciated, and the way he guided you through it was more than just adequate.

But the thing was, you and Chan hadn’t ever given each other 10/10s.

A perfect score was a rarity in your dynamic; possibly a rating never revealed before because you and Chan had promised each other never to exaggerate on this system. The only time you had ever used the solid ten was when he made you his first ever song at the tender age of nine. At the time, it was a terrible tune, with beats all over the damn place with no form of rhythm, but because he made it especially for you, you voiced your true opinion and rated him the perfect score.

Again, the situation here was different.

So, instead of the truth, you resorted to irritation. 

YOU:

2/10 :)

You waited for his text.

However, you did not receive it.

Only the shrill ringtone of your phone, snapping you further into consciousness. 

Groaning, you swiped right onto the screen, pressing the speaker button.

“Now I know you’re lying!”

Laughing, you propped the phone beside you on the bed, upon the place where Chan would have been. “You got a big ego there, hun.”

“That may be true, but my cock is bigger, so I still win.”

You were glad he was not here — the man would have sensed your embarrassment in an instant. 

It was worse because he was not lying. “Now tell me, Pinocchio,” he continued, voice interrupting as the noise of the students around him came through the receiver. “Out of ten.”

“I already messaged it to you, buddy,” you said impassively, or at least you tried. “A solid two would suffice.”

God, you could almost feel your nose growing.

Perhaps he felt it too, for he answered, with no small amount of pride, “I’m gonna pretend I fucked you so good you forgot how to think properly.”

You could not help gulping, raising the sheets over you. It wasn’t exactly hard on boning, but even so...you really thought for a second you’d lose all feeling in your legs last night.

“Shut up, Chan.”

“Shut up, Chan,” he parroted, which had you threatening to hang up. “Don’t think I’ve let you go on this subject.”

“Try me, buddy,” you jeered.

“And for Christ’s sake, stop calling me ‘buddy’,” he demanded. “Or else I’m pulling a Hyunjin.”

“A Hyunjin?”

“Yeah, a Hyunjin.” You heard the sound of horns blaring at the end of his call. “Ruining your sex life.”

That nearly made you freak. “Damn, I won’t say it again, Christopher Bang, musical name Bang Chan, nicknamed Chris the Piss—”

You heard his chuckling through the phone. “All that for my dick. I must have changed your life, ____.”

Heating up from his stupid comments, you grabbed the phone from the table. “I’ll see you in the studios, asshole.”

His smugness ran rich in his voice. “Buh-bye, baby.”

The minute the call ended, you sighed heavily, clutching the phone to your chest.

He did change your life.

Not necessarily your entire life, but certainly a huge aspect of it. A small part of you was horrified at how easily he shifted your daily balance, making you ponder over him more often, with much more intensity than before. Were you a sex maniac? Were you so deprived of being touched that one night of fun had you begging like a woman starved?

“Whatever,” you groaned, swinging your legs to the side of the bed, and upon the carpet. “Fuck Chan.”

Hopefully tonight.

FUCKING AROUND WITH CHAN MIGHT HONESTLY BE THE BEST DECISION YOU HAVE EVER MADE IN A LONG, LONG TIME.

And you weren’t the one to make good decisions. You get up an hour before the afternoons, drink Pepsi Max to compensate for your lack of water drinkage, and worst of all, you would gladly sell your body for Colin Firth, especially if he dressed himself up as Mr. Darcy at his age. Whatever setbacks you possessed, you knew that this, at least, was a step in the right direction.

Bang Chan may have been as big a loser as you were, but the man made you feel like a powerful entity. Hell, in all the state, with the way he made you act.

Never before had you become so daring — libraries, which were once your place of study, became a rendezvous for his slender fingers inside your cunt. The living room had become a breeding ground, and even your shower was stained of your promiscuity. There was no place left where you and Chan hadn’t done something scandalous, and you wondered, with no small amount of excitement, on how this new side of your friendship with him would progress. 

These thoughts accompanied you as you walked to your destination. It was not far off as you entered campus, and smiled at the few students who passed by.

Soon, you found yourself in the music department, and walked through the familiar halls, littered with posters of different artists and singers in their peak careers. A few trophies were boasted of behind a glass screen, but the surroundings all became irrelevant when you approached your designated music rooms.

Expecting Chan to be inside, headphones adorned, you did not bother knocking, strolling straight into the room. However, you stopped completely when a giant, hoodie-clothed back did not greet you.

Instead, it was a tinier hoodie-clothed back, faded yellow over the trademark black. Although not your best friend, you instantly recognised the alternative, and smiled.

“Jisung!”

The boy did not seem to hear, for he kept bobbing his head, no doubt trying out beats. 

You tiptoed slpwly until you stood right behind him. Then, in a flash, you snapped your hands upon his shoulders.

“Boo!”

A shrill, terrified yell erupted, chair being swivelled suddenly as the back hit against the controls. You took a step back out of shock too, a choked giggle escaping when you beheld the face of Han Probably-shit-his-pants-Jisung. 

“Oh my fucking God,” he rasped out, hand on his chest. He then locked eyes with you, and suddenly his quivering mouth melted into a smile of relief. “Ah, ____!”

“The one and only.” You sat down on the neighbouring chair. “Sorry if I made you shit your pants. It was fully attended.”

“Stop,” he insisted, taking off his headphones and scooting a little closer to you. “These are new jeans as well.”

“Not my fault if you’re a pussy,” you chanted, picking up the headphones, settling them upon your ears. “Can I listen?”

“Of course!” Jisung pressed a few keys on his laptop, and the music began. 

Your eyes widened in surprise to hear pleasant, almost lo-fi background before his voice flooded in, comforting you with his soft lilt and meaningful lyrics. On instinct your head bobbed along to the rhythm of the beat, smiling at the wordplay and the rising vocals.

“Jisung, this is really good!” you exclaimed. The boy waved off the compliment, but you instantly saw his face reddening. “Oh, stop it, you know that you’re one of the best out here.”

If you thought he couldn’t get more flustered, he proved you incredibly wrong. “Don’t say that,” he shrilled, propping his feet up on the chair and hugging his legs tightly. When he saw the look on your face, though, he smiled, teeth and all. “Thank you, ____. It means a lot coming from you.”

“Oh, I’m no musical genius,” you said, pressing the play button to hear his music. “Just a motherfucker who can appreciate a song of the year when she hears one.”

Jisung nearly passed out from your compliment, but you did not take it much into account as you focused all your attention on the piece. It was an undoubted fact that Han Jisung was an extremely talented dude. You already knew you could never compete with him, but he was certainly up to Chan’s level of musical expertise. With all this talent brimming around you, you made a mental note never to make more gifted friends in the future. 

Once the song ended, you took off the headphones, propping them gently upon the table. “I think you’ve inspired me to do some actual work.” 

The boy was still smiling as he reached his hand out, planting it upon your own on the table. “Well, I’m honoured to be your inspiration.” His eyes reached yours, and you were engulfed with his warmth. “The feeling is more than mutual.”

You offered him a grin, and were about to say something when the door opened.

Turning, you were welcomed by Chan’s dark figure at the studio entrance, holding two cups of coffee. Despite his black attire, you found yourself admiring a little too brazenly the bare face he never exposed in public, the beanie hiding his curls, and the tick in his jaw, which heightened further when he took in the scene.

The actions were quick — the darting of his eyes as they started on you, then travelled to your hand, engulfed with another’s. He raised them to the man guilty of the touch, and found himself staring at Jisung, beaming not only from you anymore, but at the arrival of his friend.

The joy was not returned. 

“Chan!” Jisung greeted, letting go of your hand innocently as he ushered your best friend over. 

He nodded in return, gaze back to you as he walked, a little too slowly, to the two of you. He put the two beverages upon the table next to the keyboards. “I didn’t know you were in as well,” he said. After a pause, he added, “I would have gotten another coffee.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” he assured him, even though it did not look like he needed any reassurances. 

Catching onto Chan’s attitude, you slid your coffee to the boy beside you. “I don’t want any right now. You take it.”

You took note of the pursed lips, and ignored it as Jisung widened his eyes. “No, no, it’s okay—”

“Ji, I insist,” you pestered him, driving the cup within his grasp. “You look so tired.”

He offered you a lovely smile before taking the beverage. “Thank you.”

Chan, watching this little conversation, had him clamping his lips together, possibly to not say something stupid. It was a little habit of his, thankfully in action. He slid the other cup to you. “You can have mine.”

You looked up at him. “I’m good, buddy.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Share.”

You rolled your own, taking a sip of the coffee, and thanked yourself for not being petty enough to refuse him. “Fine.” 

Jisung swivelled his chair so he faced Chan, fingers upon his laptop. “Do you wanna listen to the demo?” He grabbed the headphones, holding it out to him. “I’m nearly done with it.”

“You can send it to me later,” was his curt answer, as he took the cup from you and drank. 

You looked at him in exasperation, but the boy nodded in satisfaction, picking his bag off the floor. “That’s chill!” he said, heaving off the chair. “I got all the time, so don’t worry too much about it.”

He then turned to the two of you as he strolled to the door. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you both something.”

“Spit it out, then,” Chan jeered, which had you glaring at him. What the fuck was his problem?

Jisung did not catch on, continuing. “So, later this week, Changbin and I are throwing a party, and I was hoping you both would like to come.”

You perked up at that piece of information. “That’s something I like to hear!” Snatching the coffee cup from your friend, you purposefully took a huge gulp. “Any specific date?”

“I was hoping Friday night.” A small sip of his drink. “We just wanted to have some fun after a difficult week, dissertations and all.” His gaze never faltered from yours. “You in?”

Chan, noticing, settled in the space previously taken, and raised a hand in objection. “Sorry, Ji. ____ and I always do something Friday night. Gotta uphold the tradition.” 

You turned to face him, a brow raised. He wasn’t wrong, in all honesty. But why did he mention it now?

Jisung, too, was a little curious. “Oh?” He fixed the strap of his bag. “I won’t get in the way, then.”

He turned, and you made to open your mouth only to have Chan press a finger to your lips. His brows were furrowed, which you matched until he left the finger as the boy looked back once more. 

“I’ll see you around, guys!” he exclaimed, eyes sliding to you before opening the door, and leaving the studio.

After a few seconds of silence, you faced your friend, who had the audacity to sigh in relief. “What the fuck was that?”

The man shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes you do!” you finished the last of the coffee, throwing the empty cup in the bin nearby. “Why were you being such a dick to Jisung?”

“No I wasn’t,” he only said. “I was being the perfect gentleman.”

“Stop it, man!” You couldn’t believe his stupidity in the situation. “He was being so lovely, asking for your opinion on his music, inviting us to his party and shit. Why were you being so mean?” 

Chan only shook his head, turning away from you as he made to put his headphones on. You, on the other hand, were not going to be satisfied with silence, and grabbed his arm, wrenching him toward you. “Chan?!”

He turned to look at you, and you hitched in a breath — you had never really pondered over your friend’s angered face, nor really drank in his heightened features before. However, in this moment in time, with his eyes darkened, bare face twisted, frizzy morning curls all over the place, you had to stop yourself from the butterflies fluttering downwards. You’re supposed to be mad, not horny.

Your hand upon his arm — his tensed bicep, specifically — seemed almost feeble now. Still, you were glad it was on there, if only to feel his muscle bulge.

Chan studied you and your dazing, and made you jump when he guttered. “What?”

Instantly getting back to the situation, you cursed yourself silently for letting your desires try to take the reins. “I said,” you continued, trying your hardest not to be fazed by his eyes, “Why are you being such a massive prick to Ji?”

He cocked his head slightly, and if he leaned any further his lips would brush against yours. “I’m being a massive prick, ____, because he really fucking likes you.”

You felt hands upon your waist, tugging you off your seat. With a yelp you found yourself upon the man’s lap, hands encircling you fully.

Even though you looked down at him, his stare had you shaking. “And that really fucking pisses me off.”

You couldn’t suppress a shudder, an action which had not gone unnoticed. A smile ghosting his face, he craned his neck upwards, catching your lips and rendering you completely at his mercy. Your fingers went straight in his morning curls, carding through the locks as he captured your bottom lip in his, sucking on it to the point a whine escaped you, helpless and shameful. 

He left a trail of heated kisses down your throat, fingers skirting underneath your cardigan, your shirt, and savouring the skin. His mouth landed on a particular part, grazing his teeth against it as he softly nipped at the skin. Your breath quivered at each flushed kiss he branded upon you, but when his free hand began undoing the top buttons of your shirt, you finally called out his name.

“Chan!” you gasped out, shivering at the lovebites stinging your throat. It did not seem like the man would stop, unbuttoning your shirt just so he could glimpse the sliver of your lacy bra, humming with satisfaction. “Chan, w-wait!”

He paused his actions, tilting his head upwards in irritation. “Do you mind?” he asked, pouting too cutely for his words.

“Yes, I do,” you answered, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Why are you so mad, buddy?”

A harsh scoff was your reply. “Well, first of all, because you never stop calling me that.” 

You pinched the back of his neck, but when he pursed his lips, you leaned in, pressing your forehead against his. “Chan, you’re overreacting. He’s just a motherfucker trying to gain your approval.”

“I think it’s more your approval,” he countered, nuzzling his head against your shoulder. “With the way the asshole can’t keep his name out of your mouth. God! And the way he held your hand? Like you were his one and only?!”

“Jealousy isn’t a cute look on you, hun,” you mused, but in reality, you were lying through your teeth. His jealousy was like fuel to your turned on fire.

“Permission to punch him in the face?” 

“You might have to put a hold to that.” 

“Fuck.”

Raising his head, his agitation grew in his eyes as you beheld him. “He just...goddammit, he just makes me so angry at times.”

You played with his curls. “How angry?”

He held onto you tighter. “9/10.”

That certainly made you do a double take. 

9/10. A rare rating, you noticed with quite some surprise. It did reflect the fury which Jisung unintentionally ignited, but you did not realise how much it truly affected him. The two had always been friends, as far as you were concerned, but you had to admit that Chan never really felt as easy with him as he did with you.

Of course, because you were his closest friend.

“I know,” he said then, snapping you out of your thoughts. “It’s...unreasonable...but I don’t care. I really don’t give a shit.”

Clamping your lips together, you watched him look away, swaying you back and forth upon his lap. Well, you couldn’t have a dear friend sulking away when you knew Jisung meant nothing and less to you.

Suddenly, a very pleasing idea came to mind. 

“Chan,” you murmured, fingernails grazing against his neck.

 Sensing goosebumps form there, you were met with his undecipherable gaze. “Yeah?”

You brushed a chaste kiss to his forehead. “How about,” you began, trailing down to his nose, “I help…” you carried on, another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Soothe your irritation?”

Although completely compliant to your touches, he grumbled, “The only way you can do that if you consent to me giving Jisung a broken nose.”

“Hmmm…well...” you peppered another kiss, and felt his hands wander lazily once again. “This is a very close second.”

Catching the implications dwelling in your gaze, you could have sworn the man’s breathing halted. His tongue swept along his teeth, and you had a dire wish to replicate that action with your own tongue.

“Come here, then,” he guttered.

The lower octave had you nearly squealing as you pressed your lips fully onto his, giggling when he responded with twice more ardency, the desperation lurking beneath his physique. He pried your mouth open with his tongue, swirling it along with yours as he pressed your body completely against his, refusing to let you go. 

On instinct you grinded against him, sensing the outline of his boner beneath you with no small amount of excitement. He groaned into your mouth at the friction, digging his fingers into your skin.

It was a dire shame you had to break away from the kiss, catching his disappointment. “Tease,” you heard him mumble, which had you pecking his lips quickly before sliding your own down his neck, leaving his skin altogether.

Slumping downward, you kneeled before Chan as he spread his legs before you, struggling down his black trousers till he revealed the angry outline of his erection underneath his dark boxers. You noticed, with pride, how the top of the fabric was stained with arousal. 

“I think your dick is angrier than you around Jisung right now,” you said, failing to contain your amusement. 

Chan’s eyes promised murder. “I’m so glad my cock will shut your stupid mouth up,” he jeered. 

Thank God you were kneeling, cause that comment alone would have made you fall.

Shuffling closer, you raised your hand to his boxers, feeling his clothed length between your fingers. The touch had your friend growling much too loud, a reaction you enjoyed thoroughly. 

“How about a little less teasing,” he seethed, gripping onto the arms of his chair, “And a little more sucking, baby?” 

Baby. You didn’t know why now, of all times, it struck a deep chord within you. His command had you reaching for the waistband, pulling his boxers down until his cock sprang free. 

The image had you remembering your Lord and Saviour. 

You don’t know why you kept forgetting how insanely big Chan’s cock really was. Its length was inside of you on almost a daily basis, so maybe all this foolery had finally gotten to your head. Observing it now, hard and veiny as it curved against his stomach, the only reaction you could offer was your mouth breaking its seams. 

“Staring at it won’t be enough, ____.”

Gulping, you planted one hand upon his leg, the other wrapping around the shaft. Even the slightest contact had the man hissing, making you smirk at his helplessness. Slightly gurgling, you spat on the head, lubing his member with your fingers, and then you began.

A string of groans escaped him as you commenced, a slow rhythm of pumping his cock as your hand moved up and down. The repetition was constant, neverending as Chan’s grip on his chair threatened to snap the plastic, but you dared not slow down. You knew this was not how he gained his satisfaction — he needed a perfect graduality, a refined art-like stroke or else he’d lose his high. Fortunate for him, though, you never let him down.

You increased your pumping, sensing him containing his moans. You could feel him holding back, but that didn’t stop you at all. In fact, that only had you progressing to the next step, an action that would have him screaming your name.

Shifting even closer, you spread his legs further, Chan’s eyes rooted to you as you directed the tip to your mouth. Letting your tongue free, you swept it along the shaft, and sure enough, an obscenely loud moan emitted from his truly. Chuckling, you carried on, trailing all the way up to the head and ending your journey with an ironically chaste kiss. Staring up at him, you smugly observed his lust-struck face, mouth releasing irregular breaths already. You couldn’t wait to have him curse at you.

Eyes back on the task at hand, you grabbed the base of his cock, opening your mouth. Slowly, aggravatingly slow, you sunk down, taking in inch by inch — Chan pushed his hips forward, and you nearly gagged at the impact of his head hitting the back of your throat. 

“Shi-shit baby,” he sputtered, watching you in awe at your work. “You better tell me if you don’t want your throat fucked.”

You answered him with your progression, slowly releasing his cock from your lips, tongue licking his slit before descending back on him again. You tried to be slow — you didn’t want to go straight to deepthroating, but the way Chan choked out his curses was sweet encouragement. Holding his dick still, you began bobbing your head and down, shallow at first, testing the waters.

When the man instinctively began bucking his hips, pushing his cock into your mouth further, you opened your jaw wider, taking in the remaining inches. The gag reflex kicked in like a bitch, but you refused to cease your labour as you increased your pace. Chan leaned in a little, caressing your cheeks as he rutted against your mouth.

“God, you’re fucking perfect, baby,” he cooed breathlessly. “So good for taking my cock like that.”

Unable to smile, you answered him with your hands, now playing with his balls, slapping them slightly to make him groan out in pleasure, head laid back against the chair. “I’m close, ____,” he warned, never stopping his own thrusts. You hoped he never would, when his end was so near.

Taking all of him in, you pressed your hands on his legs, urging you to look at him. With one final home run, you hollowed in your cheeks, surrounding his entire cock in your mouth as you imprisoned him with your hooded gaze.

The image of you, a beautiful ruination, was his undoing. 

Chan let out a vicious string of curses as he released, ropes of cum spilling inside your mouth. He slumped into the chair, breathing in the entire county’s worth of oxygen as all energy left him. This time, to add to his lust-driven shock, you swallowed his release, thanking your lucky stars that your friend finally listened and ate some fruit. His cum, at last, tasted more than bearable. 

After a few silent moments, the man finally raised himself from the dead, sighing as he beheld you kneeling still. “I think I can’t live without you.”

Chuckling, you heaved yourself up, legs unsteady. “That’s just your inner horny speaking,” you said, nearly falling over on your own feet. Quickly, Chan brought you back onto his lap again, creating an iron grip around you.

“Think what you like,” he began, peppering small kisses on your neck. “But your head game is stronger than my will to punch Jisung, that’s for sure.”

You hummed as he plunged his teeth upon a certain spot, pressing your legs together. “It better be.”

Finding your lips, he lazily kissed you, hands skirting higher as you move your mouth against his, never tired from his touches. 

“Have we christened the studio yet?” The man asked in between kisses, pushing his chair forward till your back hit the table. 

You shook your head no, already sensing his unbearable grin. You could not help returning his enthusiasm.

And as you both continued in your shameless arrangements, there was one thought that lingered in your head. 

There was absolutely no way you were going to that party. 

OF COURSE YOU WERE GOING TO THAT PARTY.

You looked to the building, the whole ground floor alight with different, ever-changing lights, and a dim pandemonium welcoming your ears. Your phone pinged with messages, but you dutifully ignored them, taking a deep breath as you took a step inside.

Greeted with a half-full hallway, it was not hard to find the party house, greeting awkwardly to a few drunk acquaintances before entering Jisung’s dorm. You were instantly hit by the smell of sweat and alcohol as the noise of popular music made your ears ring in discomfort. An abundance of students were cramped as they danced along to the tunes, screaming and laughing and simply enjoying themselves. 

While observing the scene, a small part of you wished your best friend was with you, an arm slung around you as he makes a comment on the specific people dancing rather terribly in the centre. You could already imagine him in his Friday attire, midnight-kissed with gold chains dangling off his belt, rings adorning his fingers and a little makeup to elevate his already exquisite features. Maybe, if you had insisted, he would have let you paint his nails, something which you adored on him. 

Fuck, you thought, searching through the crowd for a place to get a drink. Maybe you shouldn’t have come. 

You shook your head, though, beginning to squeeze through the partygoers. No. You can’t let Chan win in this.

And so you found your way to the kitchen, cans of beer, vodka and tequila stacked in broken pyramids to drink away. Just as you made to grab the Smirnoff your hand brushed against another’s. You turned to the direction, and beamed to see Jisung holding out the can for you.

“____!” he exclaimed, barely heard from the commotion yet could feel his joy radiating from him. “Don’t you have a thing with Chan on Fridays?”

“Well, that can happen every Friday, Ji, but your party was only today,” you answered him, and he was more than satisfied. 

He grabbed the same drink as yours, cracking it open as he looked at you, stare lingering upon your black dress. “I’m really glad you came, love.”

You blinked at the sudden endearment, but before you could say anything Changbin had interrupted the both of you, threatening to bring the roof down with his whining.

“Pleeease Ji, get me away from her!” he begged, holding onto Jisung’s arm and rocking it back and forth. “She keeps tryna drag me into the bedrooms and I can’t do it with her, bro!”

The boy adorned hints of irritancy, but he let himself be led by his friend, glazing at you. “Wait for me,” he requested.

His answer was a little wave, which he returned dutifully as he began to berate his friend for tearing him away from you. Raising your eyebrow, you turned back to the alcohol, finding some soda water and pouring it into the empty cups along with the Smirnoff. You would have drank the vodka straight from the bottle but you decided against drinking your tits off tonight. You didn’t really have a great desire for intoxication. 

You cursed at a few passersby as they bumped against you, nearly knocking the drink off your hands. Fixing your dress, you took the first sip, relishing the strong taste. The songs kept changing, the dancing getting wilder, and at this rate you knew someone was going to get handsy soon. 

Drinking away, you snapped the cup on the table beside you, waiting for Jisung to come back. 

Why did you even come here? 

You instantly soured at the thought.

Still, you could not help pondering further.

You should have stayed home. With him.

You groaned out loud.

It was ridiculous how you were unable to have any idea which didn’t centre around that prick. If he did not want to join you that was on him. 

Then were you feeling miserable?

Great. You poured yourself some more diluted vodka. Now you’re a full-time simp.

That helped you down the drink some more. At least this time, in fortunate circumstances, you were not a lightweight, and so were still completely aware of your surroundings. 

Aware enough to see a more tousled Jisung stagger toward you, giggling like a little child. 

You watched him lunge towards the tequila cans and crack one open, downing half the thing in one go. “Careful, Ji, or you’ll fall to your death!” you warned him, laughing as he exhaled with great exaggeration. 

He staggered to where you were standing, slumping against the wall and taking another can. “I’m so sorry!” he simpered, much too loudly for your sober ears. 

You raised a brow, about to ask him for what but he was already answering your question. “I made you wait so looong!” he dragged, drinking some more. “Look at you! Leaving you all alone.”

“Gee, thanks,” you said dryly, crossing your arms, drink still in hand. “Just say I have zero friends.” 

“Hey, don’t say that!” You were taken aback by Jisung grabbing onto your arm, pulling him to you. He looked you dead in the eyes, wide and alive. “You do not have zero friends!” he declared, louder than before. “I’m your friend.”

Your poor ears hurt like a bitch, but you smiled at his words. “Yes, indeed you are,” you said in earnest. “Thank you, Jisung.”

It was then he blinked slowly, parting his lips as his fingers upon your arm began to wander. “But I wish you didn’t think like that.”

His touch did not go unnoticed at all. You looked at him, raising a brow, but that action went unnoticed. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, you’re a smart girl,” he slurred, voice still soft and innocent as his hand travelled to your shoulder. “You know exactly what I mean.” 

Freezing up, you felt the pads of his fingers caress your face. When he tilted his head, you finally saw what he had been trying to show you since the start of the year, the emotions he was too drunk to hide any longer. 

Lust. Pure lust swirling in his eyes. 

It was like a lightbulb had finally switched on in your grape-sized brain.

“Oh my God!”

Instantly, you pressed your hands to Jisung’s chest, pushing him completely off. He nearly fell flat on his ass, but grabbed the table just in time to stagger back to balance. He glanced upwards, and you saw his eyes widen.

“____?” he got out, but you raised a finger, which he was still intelligent enough to figure out to shut up.

“Ji, what the fuck?” You slapped your drink down on the table, making him jump. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, taking another can. “But it’s the truth, damn it, and I’m tired of having to pretend all the time about it!”

Fuck, you suddenly thought, realising that you needed to get out of this crammed residence. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Jisung, look—” you started, but he groaned out loud, waving off your answer.

“No, no, I know what you’re gonna say.” He then did a terrible impression of you, simpering, “Oh, Ji, I can’t go out with you because I’m soooo in love with my best friend in the whole wide world!”

You snapped your head to his direction. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me clearly!” He finished off his nth can. “Okay, maybe it isn’t a Romeo and Juliet shit going on, but I know something is going on between you two!”

A laugh huffed out of you, but the boy was not convinced. “We’re just friends. Good friends, that’s all.”

Your answer was a hysterical bout of laughter, confusing you even further. “Come on, ____. I’m stupid, but not completely braindead.”

He took a step closer to you, careful of your hands still. “I know Chan practically adores you.”

This little statement made your shit freeze. “Stop it,” you murmured.

“Why?” he demanded. “Because I’m saying something the both of you refuse to listen to?” 

“It’s none of your business,” you snapped. “Don’t get mad because I don’t wanna go out with you.”

“I’m not mad because of that.” With one last tequila can, he grabbed it, turning on his heel. “I’m mad because the both of you keep lying to yourselves.” 

Before you could counter back, the boy stumbled away from you, hollering to the crowd to leave some space on the dance floor for him. You wondered for a second how he’d handle dancing when he could barely walk properly, but then your thoughts drifted back to the more dire subject at hand.

“Fuck,” you cursed out loud this time. 

There it was. The question you should have addressed ever since you started this arrangement with Chan.

Were you really just friends? 

You knew the question to that yourself. Both you and him had transcended past that point now, and in a horrifying realisation, you didn’t mind it that much. After experiencing his touch, his whispers, you doubt that you could ever see him as a friend again. 

But...to be more?

Fuck indeed. You had a lot to think about tonight.

“But first,” you muttered, “To be out of this stupid party.” 

Quickly, after taking two Smirnoff cans, you squeezed past the million drunkards, making your way to the exit. When you were out of the residence, you breathed in the cool night air, a rarity in these sweaty dorm rooms. 

You had a small hope, as you walked down the lanes, that Chan would be there, right at the entrance as you left, but he was not there. He had a little habit of going wherever you were supposed to be if you were not home at the expected time, worried sick if you had drank or done something more stupid than usual. 

But he was not here today. Maybe going to Jisung’s party made him extremely pissed.

There was a reason he rated it 9/10.

Soon, you were at your building, entering inside and finding your door at the very end of the hallway. Fishing out the keys, you slid them into the lock, careful of the cans, hearing the click! of the unlocking.

Your hand rested upon the doorknob. Eyes staring at the lifeless colour of the door, you closed your eyes, letting out a deep breath.

Stop worrying. Chan is your best friend.

You turned the knob.

Your best friend.

Pushed the door open. Stepped inside.

Right?

“Back so soon?” 

Your body shivered at the words. Quickly walking inside the living room, you found the back of the sofa greeting you as per usual, with Chan’s head peering on top as he watched the TV. Walking further, you noticed yours and his favourite show playing on the screen.

“Yeah, it was quite boring, but the real question is,” you began, irritation marring your features, “Why are you watching this without me?” 

He didn’t even glance back at you, nor pause the TV. “Oh, I don’t know, ____, maybe because it’s Friday night, and it’s our thing to do this every time? Do tell me if I’m wrong!”

“Shut up, Chan,” you seethed, dumping the Smirnoff on the coffee tables in front of him. “This is the one time I missed this, so stop being such a baby.”

“Oh, so you tell me to shut up,” he jeered, snapping the remote on the table, making you jump slightly. “Fine, I’ll shut up. You won’t hear a word from me again.”

You took a glimpse of his face, and caught this cold fury simmering beneath his skin. Oh no. Had you going to Jisung’s party made him this angry? It was beyond nonsensical now. Bang Chan was the most reasonable man you ever befriended.

Taking in the emotions inhabiting on his face, however, proved otherwise.

I know Chan practically adores you.

The memory brought chills all over you again. 

Making your way into the kitchen, you figured to make yourself a midnight snack, hearing the crack! of a can opening behind you. Asshole, you refused to voice out loud, but opened the fridge, taking out leftovers and heating it up in the microwave.

“Anything interesting happened, then?” you heard the dry question travel to you. 

Scoffing, you turned, taking out your food. “Oh, I thought I wasn’t hearing a word from you again.”

Your best friend’s smile was anything but sweet. “Well, I figured if you weren’t going to tell me things, I had to ask you myself.”

That snatched any faux amusement you might have harboured. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“You know what the fuck that means!” he snapped, getting up from the couch, pausing the screen. “I can’t believe you’re not telling me.”

“How about a little less attitude and a little more truth, you prick,” you rebuked, putting the cartons on the kitchen counter. 

“Fine, I’ll tell you the truth that you’re too much of a pussy to say yourself!” He thundered into the kitchen, Smirnoff still in hand. 

You backed up against the counter when he caged you with his glare. “Since when did you start going out with Jisung?”

Instantly your brows furrowed. “Who the fuck told you that?” 

“Shit, I knew that bastard wanted to get in your pants,” he roared. “And you let him use you!”

“Woah, woah, buddy, slow down there!” You raised your hands in objection. “I’m not dating Jisung!”

“What?” He took a gulp of the vodka, confusion mixing with his fury. “You’re not?”

“Of course not, the fuck?! Who told you this?”

“He—” but then the cogs turned in Chan’s head, and suddenly it made sense to him. “Oh, for Christ’s sake!”

“What happened?” you asked, but he was drinking some more, cursing himself for even believing such nonsense. “Chan?”

“That son of a bitch called me before you came,” he started, swirling his drink in the can. “And I don’t know why he did, but he kept telling me to back off from you.”

You let out a low curse, but your friend was not finished. “I told him to get some sleep, cause clearly he wasn’t right in the head, but then...he said some words which literally shut me up.”

Then, you saw him hitch in an uncertain breath. “____, he bragged that he asked you out and...and you said yes.” 

His reaction had you widening your eyes, mouth parting just a little. “And, damn it, I thought that this is why she’s so nice to this little fucker, giving him my coffee, or missing Friday night for his stupid party. Hell, even suggesting him first to be her friends-with-benefits.

“Because maybe she liked Jisung all along.”

You watched in horror as he finished his drink, crumbling the can and throwing it in the bin beside you. A shuddered breath escaped you at the explanation, but you sucked it in once more when you blinked back the sheer intensity of this man’s stare. 

“So...yeah.” He ruffled his hair, breaking the stare as he looked away, face flushing with colour. “That’s why I just...yeah.”

A small part of you melted at his words, and his now embarrassment after expressing his desperate worry for you and your potential relationship.

Still, you had some problems that needed solving. “Chan, then why were you so angry at me?!”

You crossed your arms. “You didn’t even wait to hear what I had to say on the matter.”

“I don’t know, okay?!” he exclaimed, propping his hands to his sides. “I heard Jisung saying all that bullshit, and at the time I was so pissed that…”

“I can’t believe you’d think I’d go out with him, you dumbass!”

“Well, I don’t know, he’s just such a nice guy like you keep saying, and all that flowery poetry for him just went straight into my head!” 

The situation almost seemed comical now. “Oh my God, did you really think I liked him?!

“Of course” he cried out, slapping his hands on the counter top next to you, unable to let you escape. As if you even wanted to. “Of course I thought that or else I wouldn’t be shitting my pants all night!”

“Then you’re the dumbest fucking prick I’ve ever met!” you screamed, as you grabbed hold of his hoodie, pulling him closer to you. “Because I don’t like him!

“I like you!”

“Well, I like you too, you stupid bitch!” 

The confession had you both stopping, preventing the two of you going deaf from your shouting. The whole fight was completely ridiculous, but when you looked at each other, drinking in the words that just left your lips, the realisation finally dawned on you. 

I like you too.

Well, shit. There it was.

The one thing you’d been hiding ever since you decided to fool around with him. 

Maybe this was the last way you wanted to tell him, shouting out your declaration to prove his suspicions wrong. It was almost like something out of an unfunny American sitcom — this weird, comic deflation, but at least it was out in the open now.

You had finally told him of your feelings. 

A pinch of that anger brewing within his features settled a little, hands still fisted on your sides. His eyes darted on every point of your face, as if he’s trying to memorise every inch, every detail etched upon your skin. 

Although his blatant awe made you flustered, the aching inside spoke for you. “Are you going to keep staring all night or just kiss me already?” 

God, you were such a bitch.

Chan seemed to think so too. “Nevermind, I fucking hate you,” he snarled, capturing your lips with his in an instant. You smiled against his mouth as you kissed him back with the same intensity, the same need which spread like wildfire in your body.

Kissing him should have become a routine with the amount of times you did it, but every locking of your lips with his sent you in a frenzy, lust-driven emotions spiralling out of control. You welcomed his tongue inside your mouth, the strong taste of tequila and desperation enlivening your inner workings, heightening your need for him, him, and only him.

His hands had no restrictions — the pads of his fingers had their very own needs, their own desire to feel every crevice of your body, your every curve and corner till you have no secret stored in your figure which they did not know of. You welcomed their ravaging, embraced their interrogation as they tried to uncover everything you held dear. 

Once these hands found a weakness in the form of your dress altogether, they cleverly found an opening, reaching for the end of your dress lined at your thighs. His fingers hitched the hem upwards, skirting it higher until it bunched at your waist, revealing a red, silken thong, embroidered with black thread. You relished in Chan practically salivating all over the image, but his lust slapped him out of his dazing, and hurried to get it off, hands slipping it down your legs until it was discarded on the kitchen floor. 

In an instant the man thrust two fingers inside of you, stretching your walls and creating a hypnotic rhythm of removing and inserting them back again. Your moans could bring down the whole residence, but none of you cared when Chan was scissoring you with his digits on the kitchen counter, desire radiating off his stature, and a determination to completely ruin you stark on his face. 

“M-more!” You begged, knowing you could take it, and you were rewarded with a third finger, filling you up as you cried out in pleasure. His mouth quietened you, sucking on your lower lip and then taking all of you, had you delirious, but this insanity only progressed as the thrust of his fingers hit lighting speed. 

The three digits had quickened your potential release, right on the tip of your cunt if he did not stop. “I’m g-gonna—fuck—!” 

You were interrupted as Chan’s lips left yours, trailing down to your neck, collarbone, brushing his teeth between your chest as he fell to his knees. Pulling you forward, on the edge of the countertop, he spread your legs apart, cock twitching at the drenched cunt which awaited him, like a feast displayed for a starved, wild animal. 

Looking up at you, he growled, “Cum when I say so, understand?”

Your hurried nods was all he needed as he dove right in, tongue sliding up your slit, lapping up your arousal as if it was an eternal cure. He fastened his stroke as he welcomed in his sight your clit, swiping his tongue along the bud. 

You moaned out his name like a cry for help, and he answered at first ring when his fingers still laboured, faster and faster, along with his heavenly tongue licking your clit like ice cream on a summer's day. 

“Chan, please—!” You choked out, one hand carding through the man’s hair, driving his face deeper into your cunt. “Please, I need to cum!”

Completely ignoring you, he carried on his ravishing, making you shake your legs to a point your body was beyond your control — you were at his mercy when his head was between your legs, when he prodded at your core as if it was no one else’s but his. 

When Chan brushed against your g-spot, it took every muscle in your body not to cum on his face then and there. He was being cruel; this was punishment for going to that party, justice for choosing Jisung’s company over his.

You did not know punishment felt so pain-stakingly amazing. 

Calling out his name for the last time, you knew that if the man carried on, you would go against his wishes and free yourself of the burden pushing down on your gut. Gripping onto his hair hard enough to rip right off, Chan spared a single glance at you from above, licking his lips off your mess.

“Cum for me, baby.”

That was the first time you came that night. Shaking as you freed your juices unto him, he gladly accepting the release. It was like you possessed a vessel of your release, the way you kept it inside for so long. He could never refuse though, when he knew he was responsible for driving you down that road of vulnerability. 

However, even with all of that, you still wanted more. 

And as Chan ascended on his feet, yanking his fingers out of you, he saw it in your eyes. The uncontainable passion. The unadulterated desire. 

All for him. All. For him.

Your best friend’s smile was positively wicked.

“I will completely ruin you, ____.”

He was upon you like a beast, no mercy upon your lips as he bruised them with his teeth, your pleas drowned out by his mouth as he lifted you in his arms. His kisses never ceased as he led you in his bedroom, nearly ripping the hinges at the sheer intensity of slamming his door shut. 

Throwing you on the bed, your breath whooshed out of you at the free fall, heart running miles as you witnessed Chan take his shirt off, his entire chest glistening with sweat, no doubt from the work he put in mere minutes ago. 

Upon you in seconds, his mouth robbed you of any more oxygen, prying it open as he attempted to unzip your dress from the back. Then, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your throat, he tried to loosen the zipping, but the damned thing got stuck in it’s trail, unable to satisfy. 

Letting out an angry growl, he damned the dress when, using his hands at the front, he ripped the fabric in half, completely down to the hem. 

“My dress!” You gasped out, watching him discard the torn fabric as if it were a minor inconvenience in his path.

You were cut off by his mouth, scorching you down to the bone. “I’ll buy you ten more, baby,” he muttered, skimming his hands down your bare sides.

You had the audacity to roll your eyes at his words. “Why do you keep forgetting you’re a college student?”

It seemed Chan did not take kindly to your comment. “Shut your fucking mouth,” he snapped, resulting in you leaking right onto his sheets. 

That kept you wilfully obedient, and rightfully so, when he unclipped your bra, tossing it to the side, and settled upon your breasts. Grinding his clothed cock upon your bare slit, he licked your right nipple, making you whimper out at him. His reply was swirling his finger on your left nipple, toying with your body as if it was his plaything. You would have had a right mind to shout at him if he didn’t bring such euphoria along with it. 

“Chan,” you whispered, gripping onto the sheets as he continued sucking your breasts. “Chan, I...I need you to fuck me already.”

He paused his assault on your bud, raising a groomed brow. “What do you say to that?” He asked, too calmly in a crazy situation like this. 

Of course, he wanted to make you beg. Considering you did not care the least for your self respect, or lack thereof, you completely obliged him, rutting your bare cunt upon his trousers. 

“Please, Chan. Please.”

Hearing the little pleases had him kissing you insane as he urged you to take his pants off. You willingly obeyed, tossing the clothing along with his Calvins, and when his cock sprung me you felt the inside of your mouth water at the sight. 

The man hovered just above you as he positioned his dick right at the entrance, poking between the folds. “Say the magic word, now, baby,” he commanded quietly, and just for the last time, you had to be the most annoying person in the world. 

“Donghyuck!”

The second that damned name slipped out of your mouth, you completely regretted it as instead of making sweet, slow love to you, Bang Chan thrusted his cock so hard into you your whole body flinched with the impact. You couldn’t suppress the whimper that escaped, tears settling in your eyes, but alas, your best friend had little sympathy for you. 

“Bitch,” he seethed, pulling out, widening your eyes only to have him slam his cock back into you, sending you into another universe entirely. 

You envied his strength — you could barely hold onto his arms while his grip on you could probably compete with the Earth’s gravity, stable and safe and inescapable. He imprisoned you in his hold as he pulled out slowly, and then drove back inside, but you wanted to be in this cage, to never leave his midnight eyes that offered something other than rage and lust and humour. You dared not wonder what it might be, but when you closed your eyes, your mind began to ponder, float amongst the stars of ideas and questions which defined your relationship.

As Chan began to fasten his pace, thrusts more erratic, you held onto his dark curls, mouth never refraining every moan and whine which he fucked out of you. There he was, the man who deemed you worthy of being pleasured, despite risking your decade old friendship to see you have the same advantages as any old person who was sexually frustrated.

But this man did not just give you any old advantages — he offered the whole world in his hands to you, knelt before you, fulfilled your every waking desire, held onto you before you could ever slip away into the chaos of your mind. Even now, with you getting lost into the galaxies of his eyes, it was solely his hands which were the anchor to reality, a reality he made better by his offer. 

Bang Chan, your very best friend. 

When he caught the tenderness radiating on your face, he could not help stealing a little for himself, moulding his lips upon yours as he pistoned you in the bed. It was perhaps this small warmth, along with his perfect rhythm of his cock that had you crying out, barely able to contain your second release.

You broke away from the kiss, and uttered his name like a prayer. “Chan,” you whimpered, not needing to say anything for him to realise that you were so very near.

He pressed his forehead against yours, unable to keep away from you. “Fine then,” he grumbled. “I’ll go easy on you.

“Cum for me, ____.”

The words weren’t fully out when you stained Chan’s bed with your release, pushing through the tiny spaces in your walls. He, too, let out an aggravated cry as he spilled into you, most mingling along with your cum upon the sheets. 

A heavy silence fell upon the both of you, both of your breathing harmonising with each other in the cold midnight. Chan toppled on the side of the bed next to you, closing his eyes as he breathed from his mouth, chest rising unevenly.

For minutes none of you said anything to each other, simply basking in each other’s peace. You felt the eyes of your best friend, and locked them with yours.

You decided to break the silence first. 

“I’m sorry for saying his name.”

Brilliant. Why would you mention that stupid idol once again? 

Chan, surprisingly, burst into laughter. You were caught completely off guard, but seeing his smile lighten up his face had you reflecting his happiness. 

“You are,” he rasped out, holding onto his stomach, “The most annoying bitch I’ve ever met.”

“Hey!” You exclaimed, smacking him on his arm, which he responded with threats of pushing you off the bed. “You wouldn’t dare!”

His hands were upon you in seconds, steering you at the edge of the mattress. He cackled at your shocked yelping, and you glared at him as he pushed you away from the edge, and into his arms. “Asshole,” you murmured, burying your face in his chest, which he gladly welcomed as he stroked your hair softly with his fingers. 

You both found solace in each other’s embrace for a little while before Chan let go of you. “Hey, I completely forgot, but...I got you something while you were out.”

Your eyes perked up at the idea of a gift, which the man tutted when he noticed. “Greedy whore,” he crowed, getting out of the bed as he strolled to his desk, grabbing a brown paper bag. His marble-cut ass was out for you to see, and you took full advantage, watching it with no small amount of admiration. 

“Enjoyed the view?” He asked innocently as he slithered right back into bed again, offering you the paper bag. Sticking your tongue out at him, you took the offer, opening it up to see what was so special inside.

Catching sight of the gift had you bursting into a smile.

“Chan!”

You whipped the goods out of the bag, hand on your mouth.

The man bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling too wide. “You like it?”

“You like it?” You parroted, already digging in. “Where did you even find these?”

“Oh, I visited my mom earlier in the day, and she got the cookies from the old shop,” he explained, taking one of the sweets for himself. “I instantly thought of you as she gave them to me, so I saved them for you.”

You widened your eyes in affection. These sweets may have been normal, bakery cookies, but they held a significance for the both of you: these cookies were what started the whole trend of you and Chan rating certain objects or situations for each other, and whenever you were on an academic break, you made sure to drag your friend back to our hometown, where you could always grab a dozen of your favourite snack.

“Thank you for these, bud,” you said, eating away the first cookie. “I think they’ve become better than an eight now.”

Chan hummed in agreement, finishing off his one too. Licking the crumbs off his fingers, he then turned to you, a question riddled all over his face. “Hey, ____?”

“Yeah?”

When he didn’t say anything, you focused your attention on him, propping your head on your elbow. You saw with slight surprise that his cheeks were reddening by the second.

“Chan?”

“It’s just…” he raised his hand, holding your own. “I’ve been thinking about…all of this.”

You raised your brows, refusing to reveal the dread rising in your gut. “Us?”

“Yeah, us,” he confirmed, stroking his thumb across your fingers. “Now, remember that you’ll always be my best friend, okay, like I don’t want you thinking that this would be the end of us or something—”

“Get to the point, buddy,” you hurried along, earning a glare from him.

Then, he licked his lips in anxiety, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Hand never leaving yours, he pinned you with a stare, making you even more nervous.

He parted his mouth. 

“____, would you like to go on a date with me?”

You blinked. 

Your delayed reaction had Chan groaning. “Fuck, nevermind, just forget I said anything!” He swiped his hand away from yours, holding his head in shame. “I should have kept my big mouth shut, your bad habits are really growing on me—”

“Yes.”

Your best friend paused. 

Turned, ever so slowly, towards you. 

“What?”

You could not contain your smile as you took his hand once more. “I’ll go on a date with you, you big oaf.”

For a second you truly believed you had killed off Chan with that declaration. Then, his face exploded into pure joy, and he tackled you in a massive hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Oh my fucking God!” he cursed, “Don’t do that to me again!”

You laughed heartily as you put him at arms’ length. “You were the one doing mental gymnastics!” 

Refusing still to let go of you, he played with your hair as he clamped on his lips. “One more thing.”

“Shoot.”

“How good was I?” He looked at you, a vulnerable expression etched onto his beautiful features. “You know...with all of this.”

You stared at him, drinking in his face, his every detail, as if you had all the time in the world. Firstly, you had a right mind to pull his leg one more time, but you feared that if you made fun of him again, he might die of a heart attack.

And you still had many more years of tormenting your best friend.

So you brought him towards you, pressing your lips onto his. He seemed very much obliged to go deeper, but you pulled away just as quickly, offering him a ghost of a smile.

“I think you were a 10/10,” you whispered. “From start till finish.”

Hearing the score, and sensing your sincerity along with it, had him in near tears. He enveloped your mouth with his, backing you against the divan as he expressed his affection within the rhythm of his lips. 

When he pulled away, still mere inches from you, he said the words he’d been meaning to say since the day he first laid eyes on you — since the day you two contacted this system, since the day he knew your rating as if he knew his own name.

“Well, baby, you’ve always been a 10/10 for me.”

#stray kids smut #bang chan smut #stray kids oneshot #bang chan imagines #bang chan oneshot #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids dark hours #bang chan dark hours #bang chan hard hours #stray kids hard hours

[amor-immortalem]

Everything Undesired Epilogue

chapter 12

It’s been fifteen years to the day since Cyrus disappeared without a trace. He and Arella had long since graduated from RAD alongside his brothers. They had gotten married and have three children together now. Mammon remembers back to when they told Cyrus he would be a big brother- how excited he had been to not be the only child in a house full of adults. Now his son would never have that experience and it was all Mammon’s fault so it’s here in the room he and Arella had saved for Cyrus that he sits.

Surrounded by everything that reminds him of the child he’d lost, the Avatar of Greed flips through a photo album that Levi had made in honor of the little one, eyes wet with fresh tears. This room stays locked for the entire year except for today. The twins know they’re not allowed in here, even if they don’t exactly know why and his youngest is too young to even care about the door that’s always locked. They never told their children about their older brother- it was far too painful for both him and Arella, neither of them having accepted that their son was really gone forever.

In the aftermath of losing his heir, Mammon had become extremely over-protective of the twins and Mahlon. He would never allow this to happen again- he might actually die from a broken heart if he were to lose another child due to his carelessness.

“I wish I knew where ya were...” his voice catches in his throat. “I know you’re alive- that you’re out there... somewhere... I can feel it.”

And that was the sad truth of it all. As the years went on, he’d watched carefully over his only daughter, Azalea. If Cyrus was truly gone, it would be her that would inherit his title and throne. But she never developed all the abilities necessary to be Mammon’s successor. With every year that passed without the development of those powers, the demon only became more certain that his oldest was still alive.

For as overjoyed as he would be for Cyrus to return, he knew it would only cause friction in their little family. Azalea had gone her entire life thinking she was meant to be her father’s successor. She always took pride in it and Mammon now feared that the revelation that she was never meant to be would destroy his daughter’s world. Another thing that was his fault. She had assumed all this because he and Arella couldn’t find a way to break it to her.

Things were already tense between them after the birth of her youngest brother. She had pulled away from them in fear that she was being replaced and they didn’t want to lose her completely now. Azalea was considered a trouble maker to anyone who didn’t know the real her, often getting herself into more fights than anyone could count. If they told their daughter the truth now, she would think they were taking the position away from her and giving it to one of her brothers as punishment. Mammon and Arella were still trying to convince her that she wasn’t being replaced- that they still loved her regardless of all the trouble she gets into on a regular basis but it hadn’t been working.

And it was now, Mammon realized all the mistakes he’d made in not biting the bullet in talking about Cyrus. The white-haired demon resolves to tell them today when they come home for dinner as they did every Friday night since they’d moved into the House of Lamentation after they had gone off to RAD. He wondered how they would take the news. Would it be shock? Anger? It had to be now or never.

As the front door opened, Mammon perked up. He could hear the twins whispering amongst themselves, neither wanting to risk waking their little brother and then there was a soft gasp from the both of them.

“Zay, the door to that room’s open,” it’s Aurelius’ voice that sounds first.

“Mum and Dad don’t want us seein’ what’s in there so we should prolly jus’ avoid it. There’s a reason it’s always locked...”

He was about to call them into the room when his D.D.D. rang. It was a call from Lucifer so he answered.

“You need to come to the House of Lamentation as soon as you can.” and then the call cut off- not even a good bye which only served to worry the Avatar of Greed.

Mammon’s first fear was that something had happened to his wife on her return trip from the mortal world. He hoped it wasn’t that. As he got up, he left the door to Cyrus’ room open.

“Hey, I have to go to the House of Lamentation really quick, can ya stay with your brother, please?” The demon knows he should have waited for a response from the teenagers but this was an emergency in his mind. He needed to be quick.

Azalea and Aurelius only exchanged a confused look before Azalea called after their father. “Wait, I wanna go too!” And off she ran after him.

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

“Damn, at least slow down, Old Man!” She shouts although she doubted he could actually hear her with the wind in his ears. Azalea was having a hell of a time keeping up with Mammon as she hopped from roof top to roof top, having to transform into her demon form to even have a chance at keeping up with her father. She really wishes she was born with wings as like her twin.

As the pair reached the doors of the House of Lamentation, Azalea tries to catch her breath and as Mammon pushes open the doors open, their breaths catch in the throats at the sight before them. There, sitting on the floor having Arella using healing magic to tend to the nasty cut on his cheek, was Cyrus.

The Avatar of Greed rushes forward quickly, a million thoughts racing through his mind as he embraced his son in a tight hug. He doesn’t even know where to start with his words, he was so relieved to see Cyrus safe and mostly unharmed as he pulled back to inspect him.

He’s mostly unchanged but his white hair had grown out a considerable length, tipped with black indicating that it had been dyed at some point and as expected he had grown- nearly as tall as his father now.

“What happened to you?” Mammon’s voice is soft, “Do ya know how worried we were? Where did you go?”

Cyrus couldn’t answer. Instead, he just wrapped his parents in a tight hug as he cried and cried. He just buried his face in their shoulders as they rubbed his back.

“Shhhh, it’s okay, Baby.” Arella said as she held back tears. “It’s okay. You’re home now. You’re safe now.”

Azalea just stood in the doorway as she watched her parents. She didn’t know what to think. It felt like her whole world was crashing down around her. Who was this person her parents were fussing over? When it finally clicked in her mind that she had an older brother- that she wasn’t her father’s heir- she sank to her knees. Great, she thought, yet another person to compete against for Mum and Dad’s love.

“Azalea?” Lucifer's voice called as he knelt next to her. “Are you alright?” He can tell something’s not right with the girl.

“I....” she turns her head, “I.... I don’t know. I... Why didn’t they tell us about him?”

“When you lose someone you love, sometimes it can be very hard to talk about them. Especially when you can’t accept that they were lost.” The Avatar of Pride stands his niece up, letting her hold onto him for support- for grounding. “Your parents have wanted to tell you for some time, but they just couldn’t bring themselves to. They didn’t mean to deceive you.”

Even with her uncle’s words, Azalea was still unsure. She just wants to escape right now, feeling like she was suffocating. “I... I think I’m gonna hang out in my room right now. I need some space.” With that she dashes up the stairs, an action not unnoticed by her parents.

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

“Azalea, can we talk?” Arella opens the door to her daughter’s room- the one that had once been her husband’s.

“Yeah,” The girl says softly as she thumbs through a book absentmindedly.

Arella takes a seat next to her daughter as she opens her arms for her, a little relieved when the half-demon takes the invitation, the book discarded to the side as she buried her face in her mother’s chest.

“Why didn’t you guys tell me that I wasn’t....”

“We weren’t sure how- at least with you, my little flower.” She runs her hands through her daughter’s hair. “We didn’t want you to think we were punishing you in the worst way possible...”

“So what happens next for me? What’s my purpose now?”

“I’m afraid that’s something you have to discover on your own. You’ll find it one day, but you’re free now from the weight that your father’s title brings. You can be whatever you want.”

“Do you and Dad still love me? Am I good enough...?”

“Of course we do. We will always love you, princess. You are enough for us so don’t worry, okay?” She presses a kiss to the top of Azalea’s head. “We’re heading home now, okay? It's time for dinner and we can’t leave your brothers waiting.”

Azalea nods as she rises from the couch and they head out to meet Mammon and Cyrus. As the four of them walk home, everything feels right once more. With Cyrus back, their family finally feels complete.

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

And so the story has a happy ending. I could possibly do another fic all bout how Azalea copes with not being Mammon’s successor anymore but I haven’t decided yet. I’m going to write a tumblr exclusive fic for Aurelius first instead of a comic before I do any of that though.

find more on my masterlist

#obey me angst #mammon angst #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me! shall we date? #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me oc #arella #azalea #cyrus

[pishufics]

study date(s)

"Bertholdt knows that he needs to start trying. It’s junior year, and he’d rather not stay stuck in the same class next year as a senior. If he fails the next test, he’s in some shit. So, he's going to ask you for help."

pairing - bertholdt hoover x reader

tags - high school au, fluff, humor, texting

warnings - none

author’s note -  this was just a one shot but i kept writing lol it kind of switches between you and bertholdt, but i don't directly say his thoughts, it's kind of like 2nd person omniscient if that's even a thing LOL

lmk how the texting reads, i'll change it if it's weird

reblogs and comments are appreciated ! mwah

ao3 

chapter 1 - two days

reinah: I swear if you don’t just ASK her

Do you want to be held back?

bertoto: relax okay i’ll do it :(

r: Okay, okay

Lmk how it goes

b: i never said i was asking today

Bertholdt sighs and locks his phone once he sees Reiner start to type a reply.

Bertholdt is struggling with English, which surprises him. He’s a good student in every other class, but the moment Mr. Ackermann starts talking, he finds himself dozing off, missing the lecture. Recently, though, he’s awake in class, but still not paying attention. All his focus is on you, who sat in the middle of the classroom while he sat in the back, due to his height (he didn’t really mind, though; better chance of not getting caught asleep).

One day, due to some miraculous occurrence, the short, stern teacher actually had the boy’s attention, but not for long.

“Does anyone have number three?” Mr. Ackermann asked. Bertholdt definitely didn’t. He hoped someone would raise their hand so the teacher wouldn’t resort to calling a random name.

To his relief, you did.

“I think what the author was trying to convey was…”

Bertholdt didn’t really get what you were saying, but he admired your intelligence. You knew the material and could explain it in detail, while he couldn’t even recall the book's name in question.

He started to admire more of your traits - he gazed as you would lightly, but briskly, tap your foot in frustration when you didn’t know an answer and smile at the way your face relaxed when you finally got it. Seeing your motivation in class kickstarted his.

Bertholdt knows that he needs to start trying. It’s junior year, and he’d rather not stay stuck in the same class next year as a senior. If he fails the next test, he’s in some shit.

So, he's going to ask you for help.

...Tomorrow.

-

“Girl, I don’t have any more fucking gum. I drove up to Costco, bought the value sized pack, and you somehow managed to chew all of it.” You say exasperatedly, shutting your locker.

Sasha pouts. “Are you sureeee? There’s prolly half a stick left in your front pocket…”

You swat her hand away. “There’s. Nothing. Left. I promise.” She continues to stare at your bag.

“Fuckin-” You mutter, reaching into your bag and pulling out a snack-size bag of Cheezits. They’re one of your favorite snacks, but you know you can’t win when it comes to Sasha and food. You reluctantly hand the bag to her.

“Thanks, y/n!” She smiles and tears open the bag.

“Yknow, you can be annoying as shit, Sasha.”

She winks at you and eats her stolen prize. You turn to leave and head to 3rd period. English.

Hm. You’re usually greeted by your other best friend around now-

“Yeoooo!!” Oh, there he is. Connie daps you up before wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “What’s good?”

“I don’t really wanna go to 3rd," you answer. "Sasha stole my Cheezits."

“Does anyone really wanna go to any class? And that's your fault, you know you can't bring food without Sasha's fatass taking it,” Connie replies, and Sasha punches his shoulder.

“Okay, I know...have you started studying for the test?”

He blankly stares at you. Guess not. You have the same teacher, but different periods, so you can’t keep an eye on him.

“Nevermind. I’ll see y’all later.” You throw up a peace sign and head in the opposite direction.

It’s not like you’re bad at English, but you just don’t like school in general. You go to class to get your participation grade, then go home.

There might be another reason you tolerate 3rd period, though, and it isn’t the professor. (He is pretty fine, but he's an adult, so you don’t let your thoughts escalate).

-

Mr. Ackermann didn’t like assigning things online, so most of the work in this class was on paper, contrasting your other classes where everything was digital. Kind of annoying, but you’ve learned to deal with it.

You mainly use mechanical pencils because you hate the way wooden ones write, but one day, to your slight dismay, you forgot them at home. Just your luck.

There’s a container of pencils and a sharpener in the back of the classroom, so you stand up to go retrieve one and notice a tall boy asleep in a desk not too far back from yours.

Bertholdt Hoover.

You knew him, of course. You find it a little rude to not know your classmates' names; you’ve dealt with numerous “who?”s in previous years and don’t want to put anyone through that, so you make sure to pay attention during introductions.

You chuckle at sight. The class has barely even started, and the guy is already dozing. In an awkward position, at that. One of his long legs is across the other, cramped underneath the desk. His head was laying on his right arm with his left against his hair. You thought to wake him up, but he looked so peaceful, you couldn't bring yourself to do it, plus, it's not your business. Mr Ackermann somehow didn't notice either, so Bertholdt always had a good rest in 3rd period English.

Every time you walked into class, you checked to see what weird position he would be sleeping in. You found yourself looking forward to it- he looked kinda cute when he was sleeping- but he stopped one day. You were a little disappointed, but glad to know that he was starting to pay attention in class. You still glanced at him as you walked in- he's a pretty attractive guy. No harm in just looking...

-

You shrug your backpack off and sit at your desk, stretching your legs out a bit. The walk from your locker to this classroom was kind of far. You reach into your bag, get your mechanical pencil out, and wait for Mr Ackermann to pass out the first assignment.

Just then, you hear someone walk up to your desk, and you glance over.

‘Oh, it’s Bertholdt. I don’t think we’ve ever spoken.’ You feel your face heat up, wondering what he wanted from you.

“Hey, y/n…” He nervously starts.

“Hey. Need something?”

“Yeah, actually...about the upcoming test.”

You hum in curiosity. “What about it?”

He clears his throat. “I’m lowkey failing this class, and if I mess up this test, I’ll have to retake this class next year. Do you think you could, uh…”

Bertholdt inhales in an attempt to calm himself down. It doesn’t really work.

“Could you help me study?” Phew. He managed to get it out pretty well and made a mental note to give himself a pat on the back later. But he hasn’t fully succeeded yet; you still need to agree.

You weren't opposed to the idea. You kind of figured he would be struggling in class a bit since he used to sleep all the time. It’s alright with you, and you wouldn’t mind a potential new friend. Sasha and Connie were exhausting at times.

“Yeah, sure. When?” You pause. “Actually, just text me.” You hold out your hand, asking for his phone.

Bertholdt was practically shaking in his sneakers as he reached into his pocket and handed you his unlocked phone with the contacts app open. You actually agreed! And you were giving him your number! Reiner was going to be so proud, he smiled to himself.

As you type in your info, you appreciate the cleanliness of his phone. That shows you that he’s at least hygienic.

“Aight. Here you go,” you return his device. “See you later.” You smile.

Bertholdt can’t believe this is happening.

Mr Ackermann’s voice interrupts his thoughts. “Oi, Hoover. Sit down.”

Startled, he jumps back a bit at the sudden acknowledgement. He was focused on you and tuned everything else out.

“Sorry, sir.” Bertholdt gives you a quick grin and turns to go back to his desk. Once he sits, he looks down at the new contact:

y/n :)

xxx-xxx-xxxx

Bertholdt can’t help but smile. Just seeing your name and number on his screen made him giddy, and he thought that the smiley face you added was adorable.

His thoughts are interrupted yet again, but not by the teacher. He looks down at his phone, which just buzzed.

| Messages

reinah

Did you do it yet bruh

Good timing. Bertholdt taps on the notification and goes to type a reply, but decides to send him a screenshot of your contact…with your number scribbled out. Reiner was a flirt, and he didn’t want to risk anything.

r: YOOOOOOOOOO HOLY SHIT U ACTUALLY DID IT

Bertholdt rolls his eyes and puts his phone in his backpack. He was going to pay attention- for real - today. He didn't want to seem too clueless when you tutored him.

“Can anyone tell me what rhetorical strategy is being used here?” Mr. Ackermann asked.

Bertholdt certainly could not. But that was changing soon, with your help.

--

“Okaay, we got Ms. Tutor over here now,” Sasha smiles in between bites of a burger.

“Do you even know how to, like, teach, though?” Connie gives you a skeptical look.

“It prolly isn’t too hard. All I gotta do is help him study. If he needs help understanding a concept, I’ll just explain it,” you defend yourself. “We still have two weeks. Ion mind making flashcards or something.”

“You’re getting into it, huh?” Sasha laughs.

Your face heats in embarrassment. “Girl, you know it isn’t like that.”

“And why not? You’re always bitching about how lonely you are. High school isn’t gonna last forever…” she replies.

“I have no recollection of saying anything like that.” You glare. But she isn’t exactly wrong. You’d like to experience the “high school romance” you’ve heard so much about, and Bertholdt is pretty cute. It’s not like dating is a significant concern, though.

“I’m always here as an option, y/n,” Connie winks as he takes a sip of his soda.

“Hell nah.”

Across the cafeteria, Bertholdt is trying to eat a sandwich, but Reiner won’t leave him alone. He was right about Reiner being proud, but Bertholdt almost forgot how persistent the jock could get.

“I didn’t think you had the balls, dude. I was ready to see English 3 on your schedule again next year,” He grins, arm around his taller friend's shoulders.

“...Can I eat?” Bertholdt sighs and shrugs his friend away.

“Have you texted her yet? What day are you gonna hang out with her? You gonna bring her anything? Flowers or somethin’? Girls like that kinda stuff.”

Bertholdt didn’t really think that was true.

“First off, no, not yet. I need to see when I can actually go. Second, no, I am not bringing her anything. I didn’t say it was a date. She’s going to help me study.”

“Fine, man. At least try to seem more interesting, yknow, so she can like...be interested in you.”

“Are you saying I’m boring? Ouch,” He jokingly pouts and rolls his eyes at Reiner’s double usage of ‘interesting.’

“You said it, not me.”

“Okay, I don’t wanna hear that from you...if it came from Annie, then I’d believe it.” Bertholdt looks in the blonde’s direction. She took a bite from her burger, looked up from her phone, and shrugged.

“Damn, for real?” Bertholdt sinks. He didn’t think he was that dull. He did lots of interesting stuff, like…

Like…

Bertholdt sighs in defeat.

“It’s fine. Maybe y/n likes boring,” Bertholdt huffs, taking another bite from his sandwich.

“Yeah, okay, keep telling yourself that and see where it gets you…” Reiner mumbles.

“Come again?”

“Nothing, man…”

School's been over for an hour or two. You’re aimlessly scrolling through your phone when you feel a buzz, and glance towards the top of the screen.

| Messages

xxx-xxx-xxxx

hey

it’s bertholdt 😁

where should we meet up?

Your heart starts to beat a little faster. ‘Relax, girl… don't act like he's asking you out or something,’ you tell yourself.

y/n: hey!

how abt the library?

+  what day/ time works for you?

You add his number to your contacts as you wait for his response.

bertholdt :^)

is saturday at 3 okay?

y/n: yep

do you need a ride or anything?

b: no, but thank you

see you then ☺️

y/n: alrighty :)

You smile at his use of emojis, send what he requested, then swipe down on your screen to check the day (what? It's normal to forget sometimes.) Wednesday. Two days.

You feel like it would be awkward to study with Bertholdt considering you aren’t really friends, so you decide to text him a little more so it isn't too bad when the day arrives.

----

“See? That wasn’t so hard!” Reiner exclaims. “You could’ve tried to talk to her more, but it went good!”

“I think it would’ve been weird if I did say anything else. Best to leave it at that…” Bertholdt exclaims, trying to calm himself down. He had two days.

He wonders what he should do now. Study so he could impress you? Do something to make himself seem more interesting? What would he even do...?

Bertholdt taps back onto the conversation to reread it for the 6th time. Was there anything he could’ve said different? Should he try asking you someth-

Oh, wait-? You’re typing?

“Oh shit- Dude, she’s saying something else. What do I do?” He begins to panic. Did you suddenly decide he wasn’t worth your time? Were you cancelling?

y/n: sooo

how’s your day been?

Whaaaaaatttt?? You actually...care to ask?

Bertholdt stared at his phone in surprise.

“What’d she say? Cmon! Don’t just look, dude!”

“She...asked how my day’s been-”

“-You gotta reply now! You were on the chat when she said it, so she knows you’ve read it!” Reiner urges.

Shit. He doesn't have enough time to think of a good reply.

good, but better since i’m texting you 😉|

The hell? No, that’s weird. And too soon. He tries again...

pretty good, thanks!

kinda stressing over the test, haha

how’s your day going?

There we go. He twiddles his thumbs as he waits for your reply.

y/n :)

oh, dw, it’ll be fine !

my day was okay

sasha took my last bag of cheez its :(

b: ah, i'm sorry abt that :(

+ yeah, you're right

have you as my tutor :)

“Nice job man! That was...kinda flirty? You’ll get there!” Reiner ruffles his hair in encouragement, and Bertholdt shoos him away. He stares at his phone in anticipation. Was that too much?

----

i have you as my tutor :)

You lean your head on your pillow and feel your face heat up at the compliment ( was that a compliment?)

It’s not like you’re dumb, so he’s not wrong to think that. Your lips curl into a smile as you reread the message. But how do you reply? Should you compliment him back? You don’t really know.

if you’re saying i’m smart, thank you :))

hoping that wasn't sarcasm lol

You wait a minute, and he doesn’t reply, so you decide to ask another question.

is there anything specific you wanna focus on?

You cringe at the double texting, but hope that it doesn't make him think you're weird. You swipe away from the conversation and scroll on various apps as you wait.

b: ofc it wasn’t sarcasm, you're really smart, y/n!

i'm mainly struggling with rhetorical strategies and logical fallacies, but i could

use a general review too

if that's okay with you

You bury your almost overheating face into your pillow. Why is something like that getting you flustered, you wonder. You sit up, take a deep breath, and focus on the second part of his message. You're pretty good with what he needs work on, and a general review should be easy to put together.

y/n :) okay, we can focus on the first 2 on saturday

we can review the unit on other days

see you at school:)

At this point, you really don’t know how this conversation could go any further, so you ended it. Bertholdt returns your goodbye.

You exhale and sit up in your bed. Hopefully tutoring him won’t be too awkward now that you’ve spoken to him a bit, and there's still tomorrow at school to speak to him. You find yourself excited for the study date tutoring session, since you could get your homework done too.

"Two days," you smile.

#bertholdt x reader #bertholdt hoover #bertolt hoover #bertolt fubar #high school au #texting #aot #attack on titan #shinkegi no kyojin #bertholdt fubar #ao3 #fanfic

[imonlyafoolintheireyes]

I discovered various creative ways to self harm:

I'm fuckin bored or more likely fed up of my life... everything seems to be dull...I want to run away but then again I can't at least not for now.

I feel as if life passed me by.Like seriously just what did I do to endure all this crappy shit?huh?like am I a tool that anyone can use then throw away?

Who should I even tell?

My mom dad are already going through their prolly divorce(yeahh broken)and beside them no one understands....I can't even tell my dear brother cause he hates it when I'm sad and I know if I tell him he's gonna be guilty for not knowing much more bout me...I don't live with my parents.They live out in xxxxx.I live with my paternal family (joint family) with brother...

I still remember when I was around 4 I guess...Those eyes filled with hatred,their pathetic expressions.I dunno why they hate me?Just what the fuck did I do?They treat my brother very generously and even my cousins too but not me...I dunno what did I do wrong?

They make me do all household chores(I don't object),they hate it when I study,hate it when I'm happy...They hate everything bout me.As far as I remember I never had a good relationship with my mother and as for my dad yeahh I had have but I don't want to share bout my situation with someone who's already busy with his work and is broken...Those damn paternals' are never satisfied from my hardwork.And I've given up on making them happy a long long ago.I don't give a shit bout them.The only person who understood me to some extent was my aunt...but she doesn't stay here much,yeahh she does all that she can to comfort me but still.I love her more than my own mother....

Those fucking paternals'know my weakness ie I'm emotional weak and so they'all torture me mentally...They make me give up on my life...Yeahh maybe they're right.Life was really wasted on me I guess.

Ohh I really forgot bout those create ways to self harm.Lets say that I'm addicted to endorphins,I exercise so much that I end up being unconscious for half an hour.I slither my wrists,arms and calves...I still remember when I first started doing this At that time my hands were trembling,they(blade in my hands) were afraid to make me bleed but now those very hands crave to cut more.Once I start cutting I don't stop until I've al least made fifty cuts.But no one knows this-.Def no one.

I'm gonna be 1* in Feb.Yeahh there were times when I had certainly tried to run but when I read all those articles on internet (Quora/reddit/answerbag etc) bout teens running away and then ending up being abducted or raped.I was horrified.Cuz I want freedom from all of this shit.Not only this damn family but also from this rude world filled with only insincere feelings.

I have no one.That family is just a family for name and nothing more.

I've yet a long time to be 18.And what will I even do if I am 18? it's not like I'm gonna be free from all this.So I've had made up my mind that I am gonna study hard,stand on my own feet and disappear forever.

I've got so many scars over my limbs that I can't describe.Seriously wasn't life just wasted on me?I have no faith in anyone beside my diary cuz I know there's no one to help me when I will be in need and I know this tooo that there are some PPL who would but won't be able to- circumstances...

I cut,

I cry,

But no one knows....And the one who know bout it do not give a fuck-

I really wish.....if only someone honestly gave a fuck bout me-

#depressed #tw sh #cvtting #scars #depression #just a kid #another morose teen #sad #betrayed #lonely #loneliness #lifeless soul #mentally tortured #emotionally weak #anxiety #overthinking #wanna escape #fed up #tired of my life #dull life #an excerpt from a story i'll never write

[klugpuuo]

hi so i wrote a lemschez fic like. two months ago and i'm posting it now. warnings for mention of food, way too many innuendos (including some i didnt intentionally make, which prolly means something..), mentions of violence, and near-shirtlessness near the end (which isnt sexual but still)

uh. Enjoy fgnhj

Lemres was shocked, to say the least. This odd, slightly giddy feeling they experienced every four years came in not four, but simply one. They were already beginning to shake as he was walking down the street, even! Alright, Lemres, just a bit further now, they thought to reassure themself. Soon you'll be home, and you'll be able to siphon and battle to your heart's content.

Then there was a problem. More than that, a roadblock.

Schezo stood there, begging random passerby and yelling what just barely wasn't obscenities. “Please! I just need someone to point me in the direction of the desert!" He said desperately, "I have something important I need to do there. I promise it won’t bother any of you!” Just as he was about to begin ranting again, Schezo saw Lemres staring at him with a very strange expression. Lemres waved to him, and he hesitantly waved back. “Hey, Dark Mage~! Need any help?” Lemres called cheerfully. “In fact, I do, Comet mage!” Schezo responded, not surprised at Lemres knowing but rather at Lemres asking. “I need to get to the desert immediately, as there is something I need to do there, but I cannot find my way by myself.” Lemres smiled a strange smile that made Schezo feel a bit concerned. “Alright, I can bring you there.. But for a price.” The comet mage said, their slightly loopy grin widening at the end of his sentence.

Schezo was confused, but nodded slowly to his companion, and then they were off. Before reaching the desert, they ended up getting caught in quite a few Puyo battles. Something the now half-lucid Lemres thought was concerning was that their rush didn't halt even slightly during any of the battles, and something the fully lucid Schezo thought was concerning was the fact that Lemres kept giggling and was doing a fairly bad job at the games they played.

-

When the two reached the desert, Schezo stole a look at the now very clearly loopy Lemres and felt well and truly concerned. “Are you-“ He began. “Alright?” Lemres answered with a chuckle. “Yes, I’m ju~st fine, no worries~" This did nothing to calm Schezo, especially after he realized how odd Lemres sounded. Just as Schezo opened his mouth to say something, Lemres began to speak. "..However, I still want my payment." They said. “You never told me what it is you wanted!” Schezo exclaimed, worry now partially replaced with indignation. “Yes, yes, that’s true, isn’t it…?” Lemres said, faking being deep in the thoughts they didn’t have. “Well.. how about this - once you’re done with whatever you’re gonna do here, you’ll come to my house and I’ll show you what I wanted, deal?”

Just as Schezo said “Deal”, Lemres nodded and walked off into the desert, leaving Schezo completely alone. “How odd!” Schezo remarked, trying and failing to find his companion in the wastes all around him. “They seem to have completely disappeared. And what exactly was wrong with their attitude? Something entirely strange is afoot here.."

-

After Schezo was confident that the ritual worked, he checked the time. The sun was setting now, and he knew if he didn’t hurry it would get too cold; the crystals he used in the ritual tended to break when introduced to anything too far below room temperature, but not before turning a deep blue. “I don’t want to have blue balls,” Schezo announced to himself. “So I better head to Lemres’s house before the night comes.”

As Schezo walked to Lemres's house, he was surprised to see there were very few people around, and none offered to battle him. Although he was thankful for this, as he had to bring the crystal balls somewhere warm soon, he was also just as confused. Had a strong enemy beaten them all already?.. It was unlike the people of this world and many others to just.. not offer to battle on sight. He shook his head as he continued on. There were very few people that were strong enough to beat people so hard they'd not battle again. Sure, one of those people had definitely come through here, but..

Schezo, lost in thought and unaware of where he was going, nearly walked straight into Lemres's house before regaining his senses right in front of the door. After more gently shaking his head, the dark mage knocked on the door. He didn't have to wait for too long before Lemres opened the door, bouncing slightly on their toes. "Hey, dark mage." Said Lemres, sounding incredibly hyper. "Hello, comet mage," Replied Schezo, carefully hiding his concern for his friend. "I am here to put my crystal balls somewhere safe, and to repay the supposed debt I owe you." At this, Lemres grinned. "Alrighty, come in before it gets too cold." They said, stepping out of the way to let the concerned mage inside. "Why don't you join me for dinner first? Meat and potatoes, plus pineapple ice-cream for dessert~!"

The dark mage shook his head as he entered the home, crossing his arms. "The most I am right now is thirsty- thirsty for knowledge! What exactly did you want me to do for you, and why were you so intent on avoiding all mention of it?!" Lemres didn't flinch as their friend's voice rose to a yell, knowing that he wasn't angry at all, just overdramatic. "Good things come to those who wait, and both of us have waited quite some time now.." Lemres started, shutting the door behind Schezo. "Alright. Come upstairs with me, and I'll show you want I need from you." Schezo nodded to Lemres before heading upstairs fairly quickly, leaving the comet mage behind for just a few seconds. The comet mage shook themself a bit before heading upstairs to meet with him.

As Schezo entered the bedroom, the first thing he thought was how nice it looked. On a desk were several candles that burned softly with magical fire; there was small bookshelf with many books about herbs, cooking, magic, and assorted battle types lining the shelves and sorted by size and color; and several small model planets floated above it all. It felt like a home. After Lemres entered the room, Schezo snapped out of his trance and suddenly felt very awkward. At this moment he had also realized that this was the first time he had ever been in someone else's bedroom, which caused him to feel even more awkward. "S-so." Schezo started, unable to hide how embarrassed he felt. "What do you want me to do to- for, you?" Lemres chuckled softly. "Just take off your armor and get comfortable." They said, gently leading Schezo to the bed. Schezo, shocked and flustered, stuttered a bit and refused to sit down. Upon noticing this, Lemres attempted to make their expression a bit softer. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you." They said, trying their hardest to calm both themself and Schezo down. "I just need you to take your armor off for a bit. You can keep your sword, if you want." At this, Schezo definitely calmed down. Recalling that Lemres couldn't really see unless they wanted to use a lot of extra energy, he felt slightly more comfortable as he slowly took his armor off until he was only wearing his undershirt and pants. After he finished and sat down on the bed, Lemres followed suit, taking off their clothes until they were only wearing their binder and own slightly longer pants.

Schezo opened his mouth to speak, but Lemres put a hand on his shoulder and he realized that now was simply not the time for words. He laid down on the bed, and Lemres laid down next to him, putting one of their hands on his chest. Well this was... interesting, Schezo thought as he felt the quite literal magic in the air. Understanding flowed through him as the planet models shimmered above the resting couple. So that was why they avoided me, and that was why they were cryptic toward me, and that.. He snapped back to reality as he felt their other hand move onto his shoulder, and against everything he had ever thought before he moved his hand to meet theirs and held it. Even Lemres themself seemed surprised by this reality, but accepted it happily and gratefully.

So Lemres got to siphon their energy out in a safe way, and Schezo experienced something new. And, for now, it seemed like things were alright.

#lemres #schezo #lemschez #homoromanticism #ficlet #shipping #shipping cw #fanfiction #uh #these are really short tagd im not used to this/lh #beeper writes #god this isnt really good huh #uhhh #sfw #bbbbbb #thats it #enjoy/gen

[plus-size-reader]

More Than a Cold

Eddie Brock x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1320 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Eddie's girlfriend finding out that he's been infected...with a parasite

———————————————————————————————————

Eddie had always had trouble keeping his mouth shut.

It wasn’t in his nature and when he felt like something was off, he felt that it was his job to correct it. That was why he’d become a journalist in the first place...but it didn’t always end well.

He just couldn’t stop from putting his foot in his mouth, and it had gotten him fired.

...But as positive as he was that you were going to be angry with him, you weren't.

You didn’t mind that he got fired. This wasn’t the first time that he had flown off the handle and this had happened. You were just glad that he stood up for what he believed in-at first.

However, once he started acting odd, you weren’t sure about that unending support. You didn’t know if it was the flu or a bad egg roll, all you knew was that he was being crazy.

...Even for him.

“Try this” you suggested, sitting down beside him on the edge of the bed, where you’d had him resting for the past few hours. He grumbled, but didn’t argue as you set a wet washcloth on his forehead.

For whatever reason, he’d been harboring a crazy high fever and you had no idea how to take it down. You’d tried over the counter medicines, chicken soup and even the herbal practices Mrs.Chen had recommended.

Nothing was working.

Still, you weren’t going to give up that easily. Eddie was a tough son of a bitch, and you’d be damned if he got taken out by a cold.

“I told you I’m fine, I prolly just caught a bug” he shrugged, not wanting to tell you all about what was really happening inside him. He didn’t really understand it himself, so bringing you into it was out of the question.

He had already brought down enough people that he cared about, but you were on another level. Getting you hurt wasn’t an option and there was no way that he would risk it.

Not to mention that you would, without a doubt, call him insane.

You were a sensible person, a smart girl, and you wouldn’t believe this bullshit for a second. That, and you’d probably lecture him about breaking into the compound for the rest of his life.

Though, in his defense, Eddie didn’t really expect to be infected by an alien life-form when he agreed to go there.

“You’re sweating like a pig, and you ate an entire package of raw hamburger for breakfast...I’m pretty sure it’s not a cold” you countered, knowing full well that he was full of shit.

You had seen a cold, and this certainly wasn’t that. There had to be something Eddie wasn’t telling you, you just had to find out what it was.

Unfortunately for you, that was going to be the hard part.

On the other hand though, you had never had a problem getting Eddie to spill the beans before. All you had to do was lay it on real thick, and hopefully that would be enough to convince him to let you in on it.

You could help him, you would do anything you could to help him, but he had to tell you what he did first.

“Eddie, sweetheart, where did you go yesterday?” you hummed, recalling the lame excuse he had given you when he crawled out of bed yesterday. He told you that you’d run out of milk, and he needed to get some.

It wouldn’t have been that big of a deal, normally. However, when you got out of bed, shortly after he left, you realized that there was a full gallon in the fridge.

He had clearly made something up, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that wherever he’d really been, had something to do with this ‘bug’ he’d contracted.

He huffed, running his hands through his hair, slick with sweat. He didn’t really want to tell you the truth, but you were looking at him with-that look. He had always hated that look, mostly because he couldn’t say no to you when you looked at him like that.

No matter what he did, you were gonna get the answer out of him eventually.

“Eddie? Where did you go?” You repeated, before he finally nodded, a sign that told you he was gonna come clean. It would be easier for both of you if he was honest.

“I went to the life foundation on a tip about a story, and I got infected-with a, a parasite” he shrugged. It was confusing, and didn’t make any sense at all but it was the most you’d gotten out of him about it.

It was a start, even if it was far fetched.

“A parasite? What kind of parasite?” you wondered, maybe it wasn’t the first question you should have asked but it was the most important, in your eyes.

It didn’t make any sense.

What kind of parasite could they have infected him with that would make him act like this? You’d never seen anything like this before.

“It’s probably easier if I show you” He started, standing from the floor to give himself more room. He could hear Venom in his head, asking about who you were and why you mattered so much to him, but he didn’t bother answering. 

The symbiote was in his head, so he could put the pieces together by himself. 

Though, as if on cue, Eddie was swallowed up in black goo, that enveloped his whole frame...but it wasn’t just goo at all. After a few moments, you realized that what you were looking at was something else entirely. 

It was a monster. 

“Oh my God! What is that?” you gasped, clasping one of your hands over your mouth, though you couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. In Eddie’s place, was a creature unlike anything you’d ever seen in your life and you should have been terrified. 

However, you were more in awe than anything. 

“We are Venom”  the monster grinned, a deep growl escaping his throat in a way that could have made your blood run cold if you weren’t so captivated. “Venom...okay, and Eddie’s in there too?” You clarified, just doing your best to keep up. 

Clearly he had done much more than catch a cold, after all. 

“Yes” 

It wasn’t much of an answer, at least as far as details were concerned but you knew better than to argue. You could wait until Eddie came back to ask the questions swarming your head. 

“Okay, well it’s nice to meet you Venom”  you tried, doing your best to ignore the strangeness of this whole situation. As best you could tell, this parasite had no intention of killing Eddie, which was good. 

...if nothing else, at least he wouldn’t get himself killed. 

Then, as quickly as he’d come, Venom was gone, leaving Eddie in his place. For a second, it was almost as if you hadn’t just seen an actual monster but you knew better than that. 

Venom was here, and you both knew that he wasn’t planning on going anywhere anytime soon. 

“So, Venom?” you shrugged, you really hadn’t seen this coming today. At most, you assumed Eddie had went out on a bit of a bender and didn’t want you to know how much alcohol he’d had. Clearly, you couldn’t have been more wrong. 

Eddie only nodded. 

He was surprised at how well you were taking this whole thing. After all, not many women would be able to come face to face with something like a symbiote and shrug it off. 

...But you had always been special. 

“He likes you” he tried, thinking that would lighten the mood. There wasn’t much he could say to follow up the appearance of his other half, not that seemed relevant anyway. 

At least you had that going for you.

#eddie brock #eddie brock x ps reader #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock x plus size reader #eddie brock imagine #venom #venom x reader #venom x ps reader #venom x plus size reader #venom imagine #marvel #marvel x ps reader #marvel x plus size reader #marvel imagine #marvel x reader

[nyanzaya]

Ok so I had a REALLY weird dream recently so I’ll send this first ask as like the set up because it’s rlly long. 1/2?

(This involves Neko!Izaya so I thought you’d like to hear about it first) So background information first; for some reason I’m like “piloting” Izayas body. I’m making his decisions sort of??? I only found out when I walked past a mirror and everyone kept referring to me as Izaya (Prolly because I lined him back in middle school lol) and the fact that the other characters CLEARLY did not like the fact that I was still breathing. There’s a lot to unpack so I’m gonna be formatting this in a bulletin point way that’s in chronological order.

- So Izaya and a BUNCH of other DRRR!!characters are staying in this weird group of cabins in the shape of an upside down U, with a road heading into town. Starts off as a dirt/gravel road that goes into pavement. You know the ones.

- So Izaya/I am staying in this cabin building at the very end of the U on the left side. (Since this U kinda warps around the road into town) Across the road is one of the main “Bathrooms”. It’s got the showers while each cabin has like one of its own bathrooms. (This has meaning I promise)

- Within the cabin Izaya/I am staying in there’s at least three rooms. Shinra was in the next door over, while Shingen was in the room at the end of the hall. I saw him go back there once and never saw him a again for the duration of the dream. (So we’ll just call this the Kishitani cabin)

- The bathrooms across the road from The Kishitani cabin is shared with the neighboring cabin. The neighboring cabin was MUCH bigger but also had more people in it. So there was two to a room there, while in The Kishitani cabin we each got our own room. (Which when I first found this out the first thing that came to mind was “what a bunch of losers” lol)

- Shizuo Heiwajima was a resident in the neighboring cabin. Which means we have to share a bathroom w/ him :) (this is actually very unfortunate later on) His cabin contains the Van Gang (didn’t see a lot of them only glimpses), as well as Namie, her brother, and his gf Mika. I had a feeling that Namie was supposed to be staying in the Kishitani cabin, but left because,,,,, brother,,, ig)

- Nobody knows about Neko!Izaya yet, only Shinra and Shingen. And Izaya is hiding as a human VERY well (for now). We get kinda Fucked Up™️ later on too.

A finishing side note for now is that the weather outside is fucking FREEZING. There’s snow and ice slush everywhere, and the air is that really dry cold that burns your nose and lungs when you breathe. There would also be these gusts of really cold wind that would freeze the sides of the pine trees, so there wasn’t snow on TOP of them bist there was snow plastered to the SIDE of them. So right now we’re stuck in cold winter hellscape. Also I don’t know where Celty is, but Shinra had left to “go handle something” or whatever so he was gone for a good portion of time too.

Part 2/4? (This is way longer than expected.)

Mornings sucked because if you left the cabin you would almost definitely start freezing to death. Considering that, We just poked around our room for a bit and found nothing of interest. So it’s around midday now which means that the sun is out in full force and the outside is somewhat bearable, so why not go exploring right?? It can’t possibly lead to something catastrophic that would eventually put us at the brink of death.

- First place we go is to the “Bathrooms” across the little dirt road. As soon as we step through the door you just KNOW that Shizuo had been there previously and he was Mad™️. There was glass all over the floor from one of the broken shower doors, and it looked like someone did a very half asses job at cleaning up said glass.

- Enter: Namie. She apparently had the same idea and was wandering through the showers section of the Bathrooms as well, she had at least one other girl with her but I don’t remember who it was. Namie was also “talking” to me but it was more of just her trying to bicker. Clearly not liking that we had the same idea. So I eventually leave and go back to my cabin. I just remember wanting to avoid the other characters, because avoiding them meant avoiding unwanted conflict.

- I want to say this is the first night in this cabin, but at the same time it was like this had been playing out long before my weird dream had even started. So this is probably like the third or fourth night, and we were clearly avoiding a conflict that I was not present for.

- Middle of the night We hear thumping from down the hallway that works it’s way to my bedroom door. I initially think it’s Shinra walking around but that thought is quickly snuffed out.

- The man who opened the bedroom door was tall as hell and was clearly here for us. The man is having a hard time holding himself together, literally. Eventually his human persona wears off and we’re left having a showdown between us and this man made of GLASS. And this glass is SHARP. While trying to fight off the faceless glass demon/general asshole we “die”, he got the better of us and stabs us through the hand and a few other places. I just remember the hand being the most memorable. Close quarters combat with him is not the way to play this.

- We come to about a kilometer out from the U of cabins, at night, in the freezing cold, buried in the snow like a shallow grave, and still bleeding. Between the gusts of wind you could hear something moving around, and so we knew we had to get back inside STAT.

- Now at this point in time there was no need to keep up the human disguise, so we just didn’t. Enter: Neko!Izaya

Part ¾

We get back to the cabin and the room is a disaster. The bed is skewed and the suitcase of stuff I had is nowhere to be seen. The floorboards are cracked too, and we can see something shining under them.

- We pull back the floorboards, or at least what’s left of them, and pull up a giant steel box. In said box was a pair of thick leather gloves, with sharp nails on the end, a note, and a small map of the region we were in. On the small map was several other little squares which I assumed would be more boxes like the one we just found. (The gloves also helped keep our hands from freezing up which was nice)

- The front door and our bedroom door were broken and would no longer lock so there was no point in staying. No one else seemed to be around either so we just assumed that we were in this alone and needed to kill this thing before it killed us, and maybe someone else. (I also think Izayas sisters were there at the cabins, because I remember that being a pretty motivating factor.)

- After a lot of running we come across some buildings and fences, which looked like a Zoo. Zoos need caretakers, and caretakers were people, and people meant help. So we get onto one of the main roads of the “Zoo” and immediately something is wrong.

- Dawn is breaking and there is still no one in sight. On top of that none of the animals look right. Everything was very much uncanny valley. None of the animals looked like animals, and they were all hyper aggressive. Even the ones that seemed like they were supposed to be harmless.

- So far there seems to be no signs of people, but the farther back we get to the more restricted looking areas, the more signs of human life. There’s crates and Jeep’s, and we even found someone working on a computer in a big open tent. Although when we approached her, she didn’t really respond.

- So we leave again and follow a road into town. Once the town was in sight (think old European style town), the glass man was back chasing us in full force. And it seemed that as long as he was being touched by direct sunlight, he would appear as human.

- Getting to the town and there are people EVERYWHERE. Townspeople walking in and out of shops, driving down the road, and just going about their business in general. It was comforting but also concerning considering that we were still being chased but this glass man who for some reason is targeting us.

Part 4/4 (another long part)

I figured that if I could lose him within the town then I should be home free. Unfortunately wherever I managed to parkour to, he would already be waiting nearby. And If we stopped moving then we’d get attacked again.

- He would make snide comments every time he would cut us off within the town, although after the first few times I stopped listening to what he was saying, and I think this might have pissed him off.

- Eventually we had gotten into this other building which was definitely upper class or something, if you were to judge it by the decor and the sheer size of it. One of the hallway walls had a HUGE painting of this Neko mother surrounded by her little kids. The painting was clearly very old, and I wasn’t expecting to see anything like that.

- In this house we found three more of those Steel boxes. One with a black trench coat lined with wool, and there was a picture of another Neko in the box that was wearing the same coat. On the picture it said something along the lines of “to whoever receives this coat, let it warm and shield you from the night”, something weird like that. Each box that had something in it also had a picture too. Which was interesting, since each time it was always of a different Neko. Anyway I got like some sort of undercoat and I think a thicker pair of pants.

- Obviously we had been found again and were forced to flee to the edge of town. There was a old rickety building that we ran into, and were then cornered in.

- At this point we had to fight him, and as it turns out as long as he is taking human form (in direct sunlight via the giant skylight in the main room) you could do a lot of damage to him. I didn’t want to get too close to him do at one point I had taken an old coffee table and hit him w that, since it wasn’t that heavy.

- The gloves were helpful when we had to use the nails and dig under the guys false skin to tear some of the glass out. The less glass chunks he had in him, the less mass he had and the less damage he could do.

- Once we had whittled him down to almost a skeleton of what he was before, we reached into where his face used to be and pulled out the one piece of glass that wasn’t the same as the others. It was 100% clear and had this weird glittery purple and orange in the middle of it.

- While trying to leave the building we ran into this old man who I guess was working in a facility below the building, who was coming up to see what the commotion was about. He also took the weird glass/rock from us

- That’s how we found out that those weird looking rocks had come down in a meteor shower a few months ago, and that you’re not supposed to put them inside of your house. This is apparently because he cold of the outside keeps them sedated almost. So when you bring them inside they’ll latch on to any sort of free floating objects to create a body for themselves. Which is why when someone put it in the main bathroom where all of the broken glass was, it was able it create a much stronger body.

- Afterwards he, or someone else, had given me a ride to just outside of the cabins we were staying in. It was starting to get dark but it wasn’t getting colder yet, so everyone seemed to be out and about. I saw Kyohei walking back to his cabin so I ran up to him and grabbed him to tell him not to let anyone touch anything outside, and to especially not bring anything else inside. Which I probably sounded crazy but he just went with it.

- During that time I got to talk to the other characters, only for a little bit though. I tried talking to Shizuo but every time I did he would clam up and ignore me. Which fair enough I guess, since very few people got along with me and I had disappeared for the past 24 hours.

- Afterwards it had started to hail, and that was around the time I decided to leave the camp and try and go home. Just to get anywhere else but there. When it stopped I took one of the trucks and drove until I reached a highway, which was very far out. When I went to merge though, the on ramp wasn’t connected to the actual highway. It was like it was never completed and there was a drop off straight down into a canyon. I just sat there in the truck for a bit and watched the other cars driving back and forth across the bridge over the canyon.

- The ramp was only one lane so I and to reverse all the way back to the road, and then back to the 7/11 I had previously passed, so hopefully I could make a phone call to get out of there. Though the dream ended before we got the chance to do that.

I’m sure that there is a lot missing considering that it’s rare for me to remember dreams in the first place. I’m also sure that Shingen had something to do with us being in that location during that time of year. But I hope you found some entertainment in this weird dream that will probably haunt me for a while. Love your blog btw and I hope you keep posting!

——-

I’m in the middle of traveling right now! But omf thank you for sharing this I cry,,, also sorry everyone I don’t know how to make a read more on mobile 😭

This is actually a super interesting dream I wonder what it means tbh LOL what has me is the Neko part I weep softly. This kind of explains why my muse for Iza(Neko!izaya) has been a little low, like it felt like he wasn’t “with me” if that makes sense!

The coat and the pictures I’m hhrhrh…. It’s super funny to me because it kind of falls in line for Iza’s mom and her kits with that picture of a mother Neko and her kids because that was all I could think of but still! This is such a sweet story in a exploratorive way and a interesting lore perspective because those pictures and items were left there by someone for a reason but we have no idea who 👀

Then how you/izaya is trapped there?? I need the part of the dream where we know why and who LOL but tbh maybe Shigen did have something to do with it 👀 damn nebula and their mysteriousness

Ty again for sharing this with me 😭 it really helped and I enjoyed! I have like,,,mild travel anxiety and this made me feel better💕 for the posting part,,,I will try jdhdjs i have to get back to the Iza/Zuo content but I been ensnared in Genshin Impact and FE: Heros and I’m stuck on Link Click LOL but, I hope to post more about drrr/hybrid verse/Iza+Zuo content!

#;Ooc #anonymous #uhhh #long post #durarara

[loupsgarou]

A Cosmic Rhapsody // ch.19 snippet

The maids had come to tend to her bright and early.

Talia was by no means a morning person, even though she had forced herself to become one in the last half of her life, but she had heard them coming and considered hiding under the blankets even for one moment.

She had sent them away though, politely telling them that she could do the maintenance well enough, and they left but not without leaving a change of clothes for her on the stout chair near the four-poster.

It was any wonder Thor was a brat when they first met… living so plush of a life as he did, at least.

Looking again on her new outfit, from the olive-sepia jerkin protecting a sleeveless charcoal tunic and likewise leather skirt, to the black leggings halfway visible with smoky gray boots cutting off at the shin… meeting her reflection’s hazel eyes, Talia puffed under her breath and mused, “I’d prolly win the costume contest at a Renaissance fair in this…”

“Seems the lady does protest too much after all,” chuckled a rumbling voice from the doorway, making her jump, and Thor smiled cheerily when earning a mild look from her.

Ignoring the warming of her cheeks and looking away with a sniff even as her eyes drifted to the mirror again, annoyed a degree at his spooking her in the middle of her wallowing, Talia quipped, “sometimes it makes the world go ‘round?”

Defensiveness having made her inflate, she deflated when hearing him break away from leaning his hip against the door and pad up to her.

Smile faltering at the concerned glint in her eye that became more evident the closer he got, Thor ducked a bit and tilted his head as a sideways look adorned his face until it made his lower lip jut out. He blinked a couple of times and waited until she risked a look at him, his sideways look changing for an easy smile when his spitfire closed her eyes with a shallow sigh in defeat.

“No idea what you’re protesting for, sweet, you look alright to me,” he offered if only to not see her frown so much.

Eyes softening at his effortless way to become perpetual sunshine, Talia tilted her head a bit and lamented, “much as I needed that, it’s not this I’m worried about. I’m just glad this isn’t purple… never a good look on me.” She smiled for him albeit slightly when his arms found her waist and he pulled her close.

“I’m sure they’ll take to you, spitfire,” Thor assured, leaning his head against hers and watching her smile soften at his affection.

Talia wasn’t the first woman he proclaimed his love to, he distantly recalled, but he knew down to his core that she would be the last… she deserved to not be taken for granted, and he had no problem showing her how appreciated she was in his life.

“I hope you’re right,” sighed Talia, giving a squeeze to his arm that had looped around her belly in spite of her lingering anxiety. She minded the beginning pout that started to adorn his chiseled face in the mirror and laughed a little as she added, “I’ve never had to meet the parents of anyone I dated, or lived with, even once. And then it’s the parents of the man I love…?”

“Talia,” Thor half-groaned her name when he heard the anxiety creep into her normally calm voice, and he moved a bit only to duck in like and press his lips to hers.

A ghost of a smile attempted to pull at his lips when she reciprocated with a slight sigh through her nose, and he drew away with reluctance to gently cup her face in his hands, promising in like, “they will love you, Talia, it’s only fair after all you’ve done for not just me but the Nine. ‘Sides, I already love you, and I won’t be moved to feel anything else for you.”

Closing her eyes when he broke the kiss and groaning under her breath at his way of getting her to ease her nerves, Talia curled her fingers in the longer locks of blonde draped on his shoulders.

Opening her eyes to look up at him as his arms at her hips had barely let her get far, she felt relief blossom somewhere behind her heart when their stares held, and she allowed a tentative smile as she murmured, “you’re lucky you’re so damn pretty… but I love you, too.”

Thor let a warm smile adorn his lips and linger at her slight poke, leaning in to steal a gentler kiss before humming somewhere in his throat when she leaned into it out of contentment.

“Keep swooning and I’ll have no choice but to carry you on my shoulder to the throne room,” he teased as he reluctantly broke the kiss again, wiggling his eyebrows at seeing she was herself.

Cheeks rosy, Talia shoved his shoulder with a light hand and scolded in like, “if you’re going to kiss like that, don’t interrupt so much.” She drew away with further reluctance to straighten her jerkin and then step around him to leave the room, snagging his belt with a hand to tote him along.

Smiling privately at her action, imagining it was reflex by now, Thor inclined his head and drawled at her nape, “whatever the Lady Spitfire demands.” His eyes softened when seeing her cheeks dust with pink again.

#ao3 #thor odinson #marvel fanfiction #mcu fic #mutual pining #height difference #gif is not mine #writ stuff #mytxt. #yall the boy is smitten n sweet send help

[occasionallyish--archive]

new oc just dropped.... from the mlb fandom...

tiinii, the rat kwami of purification. i’m thinking their(hells yeah, undefined gender squad B] ) miraculous would either be a pair of gloves or a mask- i was gonna originally say a medical mask but wouldn’t it be sick to have a rat-themed plague doctor mask???- actually, scratch that, it starts off as a medical mask but after the user transforms it changes into a plague mask. that’s what we goin with

so uh. you can prolly already tell a lot of it is based on irony lmao- ‘cause, y’know, rats equal disease and this one equals purification and all that the rat’s special ability would be healing, so, y’know, purification. with a touch, they can do things like reversing rot, undoing rust, reviving dead plants, and healing those in need! they can heal both injuries and illnesses. this can probably only happen a couple times during a transformation though, and if it’s during a battle, should only be used if it’s life or death- because ladybug’s magical fixing everything will fix anything that isn’t immediate

with chat blanc and hawkmoth and mayura, i like to think if any miraculous holder gets unstable enough that they’ll have some sort of unstable/chaotic/evil counterpart. that said, should the rat miraculous holder ever somehow be put in a state like that, the reverse would be corruption- i admit it’s kind of similar to chat’s cataclysm, but it wouldn’t be nearly as powerful or destructive. like, rather than rotting a plant until it turns to dust, the unstable rat could only really do it to the point that the plant’s all dead and shriveled up to the point that it looks like a raisin or smth. they’d also be able to bring upon disease, though only when making contact with a victim’s... f-fluids?? i mean, like, if the corrupted rat touched an open wound or kissed somebody then it’s near certain that that somebody would end up terribly ill

i think the theme of the hero part is pretty obvious lol. we’d have these tall, grey, wide rat ears with a black plague doctor mask that just possibly has a little rat nose at the end... maybe the plague mask itself would only cover, like, the bottom half of their face though- like overhaul from bnha. but then their eye mask is connected to it, kind of resembling a real plague mask but not offering full face coverage as classic ones do. most of the rest of their suit of course resembles the other heroes’, the skintight spandex that covers the entirety of their neck down. it’s all a dark gray color, with the hands, feet, and stomach being a lighter gray(or maybe pink? but that might be too similar to the mouse miraculous) ohh!! but to just slightly push further with the doctor theme.. you know how carapace has a hood built into his suit? the rat’s suit is going to have a sort of similar like... layering? add-on like that, too, where they have a black sort of shawl that just... hangs around their shoulders. but it only reaches like halfway down their arms, stopping just below the elbows(you can get an example of this by looking up feth mercedes). maybe i can make it so the shawl also covers their neck, sort of connecting with the plague mask? but that might look weird.. and then ofc they’d have the long, pink rat’s tail in the back i’m kind of having a hard time coming up with an item of choice. i was thinking maybe a syringe? but that’s a little modern for what i’d expect, plus it can be considered violent when most miraculous gadgets we’ve seen so far are nonviolent, and can be used as tools. i’ll think more into that later

as for the holder themself, i haven’t really shaped the person’s name or appearance or anything but i do have their personality down to a T lol i want to say they have ocd, but i don’t know the experience and dunno if i could represent that in an accurate light. either way, our rat miraculous holder is a total germaphobe- they have a valid excuse to wear their mask everywhere that they go, though ofc some people will still probably end up skeptical. still, they have an obsession that “the world around me is sick and/or i am sick and will ruin the world around me” and so they have a compulsion to wash any surface before and after they’ve touched it, to use hand sanitizer every fifteen minutes or so, probably to wear gloves in any particularly social settings, etc etc despite this, though, they actually don’t mind social interaction! in fact, they’re more comfortable when with other people- as long as they’re people that they’ve established they can trust. i wouldn’t go as far as to say they’re a social butterfly, but the holder of the rat doesn’t mind of bit if somebody wants to come and establish them as a friend generally though, they can be kind of skittish- not in the way of “i’m scared, time to run away lol” but in the way of it is kind of easily to catch them off guard, and in this way they probably heavily rely on reflexes if they were akumatized prior to becoming a holder(or maybe even after??) it’d probably be triggered by somebody like.. touching their food or giving unwanted touch or something, in order to tease them for their germophobia. the goal that would come out of that would be to make other people feel the same fear that they themself feel in their day-to-day life- so their akumatized power would be like... a plague. of paranoia? anybody infected with it would become irrationally fearful

and finally, some more information on our kwami tiihii, themself: -they’re selectively mute, only speaking to their miraculous holder(even then that’s barely ever), their miraculous guardian, and... that’s probably it lol. maybe they have a special trust in tikki, since she’s the first kwami? -they’re pretty much the healer of the kwamis. should one come up with any sickness like tikki did in that one episode, they could count on tiinii to easily heal ‘em -their personality is akin to the holder’s, but probably a larger scale. they get anxious of so many things. the littlest thing can scare this bby, even though they do put effort into improving... also they probably downright hate interacting, in general. partly hence the selective mutism. -they probably speak almost purely through body language, since i’m going to assume the kwamis don’t have an established sign language. if you aren’t one of the people i named above, the most you’re going to get out of tiinii is a nod or shake or tilt of their head. otherwise you have to learn how to interpret their behavior -they have a gentle soul though and at the very least have shown to have faith in those around them

anyway, i started the oc process wanting to come out with a chaotic, homicidal hero... but i ended up with this precious one and y’know what they’re great either way <3

give me feedback! please! also ask questions abt them! help me develop the babe!

#mlb #miraculous ladybug #mlb oc #oc #original character #sickness mention #tw sickness #sickness tw #favish #bold #tw bold #bold tw #long post #big text #tw big text #big text tw #the great big book of ideas #ish oc

[mavmax]

Strange Love (Part I) | Maverick & Sooyun

When: Tuesday, January 19th

Where: Somewhere in Ocean Park. 

Warnings: Drugs, Alcohol

Featuring: @sooyunjeong​

sooyun felt exhausted keeping up the appearance of Eric's supposed girlfriend, which was probably why she found herself at a party that was being held just to get away from the annoying questions and looks of her stealing Eric away. In her defense, Lexa should have made a move on Eric instead of beating around the bush. But it was sort of her fault for sending that selfie to her through Eric's phone while he was passed out.  She shot back the shot and cringed at the taste, vodka wasn't her strong suit but it was the only drink that she could rely on that wouldn't give her a terrible hangover. After the performance, Sooyun left the band behind and ended up at this party where she knew no one, everyone clearly were far different from her social circle. The young girl leaned against the wall and felt the vibration against her body, maybe she shouldn't have taken those drugs. Opening her eyes and squinting as she recoginize the face and that smile anywhere.     "Maverick Maxwell!" Sooyun yelled out, pointing at him as she pushed herself away from the wall and grinned cheekily, "What are you doing here?"

Maverick knew not to pass up any party invitation in Santa Monica, although this one, he almost considered passing up to shoot some hoops to get his mind off the stress that Lexa practically radiated the whole weekend. He needed to let loose, and so, he called up a few of his college buddies, pre-gamed and smoked a blunt--or three, and now here he was crossfaded as all hell and taking shots as if they were water. He mingled throughout the party, making casual conversation from everything to crazy ragers in the past to a recent performance that Maverick had zero clue about, but was bummed out that he missed. He always liked local bands performing. As he made his way to grab himself some snacks from the back, he heard a voice that made his whole body whip around. "Well, well, well, what do we have here!" Maverick smiled making his way over to none other than Soo-yun. "The host invited me and a few of the boys. What're you doing here?"

"I got invited as well," she shrugged her shoulders, she don't even remember who it was that dragged her here but they left her behind as she wander off and made friends left and right. "At least now I know someone around here, I kept getting asked questions and I never know how to hold a decent conversation before running away." Sooyun tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear and grinned, "Did you go to the concert? If so, I didn't see you, I can't even see when I am on stage so there's that." Someone tapped her shoulder as they passed by to wave, in turn, she waved back unaware on who they were due to the fact half the time she doesn't even remember their names, might've been one of the parties she went too in the past. "There's talk of the after after party--who knew people can party for so long."

"Damn, looks like you roll deep around here. Small ass world," He chuckled. With Santa Monica being as big as it is, there was no surprise that people's circles would often intermingle, if they played their cards right of course. "I mean shit, that's what I'm saying cause my boys all disappeared within the first hour and shit. And honestly, conversations can be weird. I like to keep 'em light, talk about different parties, ixnay on politics, spot another person, wave and respectfully dip," He explained with a wry grin. "Wait, there was a concert? Shit...no, I didn't go. Had I known, I definitely would've gone. It's been a while since I've seen local bands play with basketball and shit," He responded honestly. She effortlessly mingled well with people and Maverick had to admit he was pretty impressed, well--he wouldn't mention that now with the haze settling upon him. "That's what I was hearing too! Like damn, you guys really want to party til the break of dawn, huh? Pretty fuckin' wild," He laughed. "Are you going to the after after party?" He asked curiously.

"Yeah there was, it wasn't planned but they needed a band to cover and I figured why the hell not, so hence here I am. Lost my band mates but it's fine, good thing a thing called Lyft is available incase I have to somehow hobble my ass home or sleep with someone." She said out loud, the downside of being intoxicated it appeared the things she normally kept shut was coming to surface, "But on another note, I might...I really don't want to go home and I really don't want to answer any more questions about Eric." Sooyun didn't mind questions about herself but when it came to the supposed relationship, she couldn't come up with anymore lies and the fact Eric wasn't helping by shutting out the world in his dream state, Sooyun was left to deal with the domino affect and dodge questions left and right. She quickly grabbed a plastic red cup and started mixing her own drink, something that would numb the stress. "Also you should go bug Eric sometime...he is practically sleeping his life away at this point."

"Ahhhh, okay. Makes sense. Impromptu gigs are the shit. You show up, surprise the audience, do your thing and wow everyone. I mean, that's what's up, you know? As for the rest of your evening, well, there's a bunch of hotties to go around, so..." Mav chuckled as he looked around at the word "hotties". Last thing he needed was to take a drunken L, least he could do was pretend to be slightly uninterested compared to his sober self, although his sober self was currently taking notes now. "Well, you could either hide out at the next party and scope out to see where there'll be less people or wind up at Onyx?" He added with a shrug. He managed to block out the mention of Eric, probably because he eyed the bottle of tequila and as much as he hated the taste, here he was, reaching over for it, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig from it. Future him is going to hate himself tomorrow. At the mention of Eric again, he chuckled at the thought of him sleeping. "Homeboy sleeps like a bear. Plus, his phone's prolly on DND. I'd say Lexa could get to him, but she's been busy with CEO business and shit. When he wakes up though, we'll prolly go get some gimbap or something."

She knew mention Eric was a low blow, she seen those posts on GG, she didn't think Maverick would actually be that interested in her after the many times she shot him down. She figured that he would move on with ease or maybe she just assumed all that due to her ex who in a way was similar to Maverick but standing here before him, realizing they were completely different sure they shared the confidence of flirting but now Sooyun was able to see that Maverick wasn't anything like her ex. "Yeah he does, which I was surprised but hey...everyone has their niche." Sooyun shrugged, her eyes widening at Maverick drinking the tequila, "Uh...you really think that's a good idea? Tequila doesn't sit well with most people. Not that I should be telling you how to act but I really don't want to drag you out of here, I may act strong but I have no muscles."

While the mention of Eric and Sooyun sucked for the time being, he was able to bounce back fairly quickly, as if he were unscathed. The one thing that's swirled in his mind is that Sooyun's rejected his advances prior anyways, so at the end of the day, the sting lessened. However, he was definitely confused as hell now that Sooyun seemed happy to be conversing with him at the moment. It almost gave him some sort of hope. "I'm pretty sure he can sleep through a tsunami warning at this point. I envy his sleeping pattern, that's for sure," He admitted with a laugh. It would be the only envy he'd admit out loud given his state, too. "Oh this? It went down pretty smoothly, so y'know, that won't be too bad. I was gonna grab some food anyways so the effects of the tequila won't hit too hard," He reassured her with a laugh. "You game to grab some food too?" He offered cautiously.

The mention of food made her realize she hasn't even eaten dinner nor lunch, all the nerves enabling her to eat a decent meal without puking. "Depends...are you going to hunt through said kitchen or are we going to grab an uber because I don't know about you...but now after seeing you take that tequila like a champ, I want to one you up on shots." Sooyun knew that this was a terrible choice especially now she realizes she's drinking on an empty stomach but the fact she was high and about to be even more intoxicated, it just didn't mesh well from the first time around she done this. "Let's see...how about...four shots, make it even. Four for you and four for me...make a toast or whatever." She waved her hand as she grabbed mini plastic shot glasses and grabbed the tequila from Maverick, pouring them the shots and set it between them. "Oh we can even spice it up...if you can't take a shot, you have to make a confession. So...eight shots." That math didn't make any sense but at this point, Sooyun didn't care.

"Yeah, I was gonna check the kitchen first and if there wasn't shit, then we'd grab and Uber and go wherever we felt like eating at,"he shrugged. "You really want to challenge me to shots?" He asked, a devious smirk curling on his lips. Maverick knew very damn well that he was playing with fire at this point. Sure, he took a swig without wincing or making a face, but this was about to be torture...but the thing about Maverick Maxwell was that he never backed down from a challenge, especially from someone as gorgeous as Sooyun. "Bet, you're on," He said with a nod. His crossfaded mind tried to do the math in his head as best as he could. Eight shots between the both of them was bound to fuck them up. "Like truth or dare? Okay, I see the vision here," He said as he watched Sooyun pouring the tequila into each of the shot glasses. Taking one of the shots and handing Sooyun hers, he smirked. "Bottoms up," and threw the first shot back.

Sooyun knew she was about to die, almost like her body knew what she was about to be put into the next day, she tried to pay much mind to it as she squeezed her eyes tightly together and threw the shot back. Cringing as the taste went down smoothly, with a burning trail as a reminder for what she was doing to herself. "Jesus...I swear tequila never gets any easier," she mumbled to herself and wiped the back of her hand against her mouth, looking up at Maverick and laughed, "Another? Or do you want to use one of your truth or dares already?" She teased him, flipping the shot glass upside down onto the table, the sound around them muffled as her attention was solely on Maverick. To think she managed to hide her attraction to him sober but now that sobriety was out the window, it was as if she was a whole different person.

It was official that both he and Sooyun signed their death sentences tonight. Tomorrow was going to be incredibly brutal and he was already mentally blocking out his hangover stage because it was going to be a bitch. The taste of the tequila was smooth but the familiar back of the throat burn was what nearly threw him off, he had to silently smile at his poker face behind it. "No going back now. Despite the back of the throat burn," He teased with a laugh. He met Sooyun's gaze again and nodded. "You're not getting me that easy," he responded with an eyebrow wiggle as he set down his shot glass upside down. He liked that it was just them two playing their own little game, drowning out the rest of the world with just them and tequila. It was beginning to get harder to pretend that he wasn't as interested in her, but that would be a problem for later Maverick. He took his own shot again, throwing it back with a smirk and flipping his upside down. "Just like water," he bragged with a laugh.

"Here I thought you would be weak," she laughed, making a mental note to drink water before she passes out later, but she doubt she would even remember that simple task. "Another then," she grinned as she reached for the second glass and held his out towards him, flashing him a flirtatious smirk, raising the glass and throwing it back, coughing at the burning taste. Sooyun realized the next round she might have to use one of her own truth or dare at this point, especially because she wasn't taking a break between each shots and the thing about tequila, it was worse than vodka, it will creep up and bite her in the ass. She just hoped no one would report what they see tonight towards GG, it was hard enough to not slip up when she was out in public with Eric, she also knew it was hard for him which was why he stayed home and kept his phone on DND to avoid confrontation.

"You severely underestimate me, Soo," He winked, the flirtation slowly creeping back in on him as much as his sober self tried to reign it back in. At this point, all bets were off. Although, he was beginning to think that the impulsive Gatorade vibe would save his life tomorrow morning. At the second shot, the burn was slightly stronger than the last, a clear warning sign for him to slow the fuck down before things got ugly too soon. When he heard Sooyun's cough, he was relieved. At least now they could truth or dare it out because there was no way both of them in the current states that they were in, that they'd make it out in one piece. He pondered what he could confess about, it had to be something small, yet, somewhat meaningful, but still not enough to scratch the surface. Last thing he needed was to confess he practically shut off all emotion about Sooyun so he could move on quicker. "I guess we're gonna have to use that truth or dare card," He chuckled. "Tequila's getting more bitter by the shot, don't you think?

"More like it's death in each shot I throw back," Sooyun grimaced as she reached for the mix drink she made for herself and took a drink to somehow wash out the taste. Mixing alcohol was probably not the best idea but at the moment it definitely helped. "Okay...I guess since I was the one to tap out, you can ask me the magical words of truth or dare." She caved in, letting Mav take the first round since she practically came up with this stupid game in the first place.

"I'm so glad I wasn't the first to admit that," He teased with a laugh. "You're right though, I'll give you that," Maverick tried not to look at the tequila shots as he tried reaching towards the fruit bowl. Finally, sustenance. Grabbing two apples, he handed one to Sooyun and kept one for himself, taking a bite out of it. "I guess so, huh?" He smirked. "Alright Sooyun, truth or dare," He asked coyly.

Sooyun realized her mistake on the fact she was probably going to have this game backfire in her face now that she could either pick truth and having to say something true from his question or dare where he could possibly have her embarass herself. She rolled her eyes, "Dare...not about to spill any secrets just yet," she giggled, waiting to hear his dare for her.

Maverick took another bite of his apple waiting for Sooyun's response. A big smile graced his features as he knew very damn well she was going to play hard to get in this round. "How'd I know that's what you were going to pick?" He teased with a knowing look. "Okay, I dare you to, take off your bra and use it as a hat now, if you don't have a bra...I'm sorry to say, you might have to use your panties as a hat for the night," He challenged.

gaping at him and his words, she assumed he would choose some silly dare not this sort of dare, laughing lightly, "Now what if I wasn't wearing any panties...then what." Sooyun challenged Maverick, of course she was wearing underwear, she wasn't that adventurous and even if she was, she wouldn't admit to anything unless the person she was sleeping with took her clothes off. "Good thing I wore a bra that is easy to slip off," she rolled her eyes as she placed the apple in her mouth to hold and reached behind to unclip it, doing the whole slipping the bra off and out of her sleeve to pull out a soft pink bra and place on her head. "Gotta make sure not to lose this, you know how much bras cost? Which is ridiculous for a tiny piece of cloth.

He couldn't help but laugh at Sooyun's reaction to his dare. Mav knew he wasn't going to make it that easy for her, after all, it wouldn't be him if it was. "The backup plan was charm someone's shirt off to wear it as a head wrap, but that's pretty mild compared to the original," He explained with a grin. He watched the whole ordeal and the one thing he had to admit was girls really had their own tricks on getting bras off without getting their shirts off. He was going to make a note of what Sooyun did--for science. "Don't worry, with a color that pink, it'll be hard to miss," He teased. "Guess that means it's your turn."

#p:sooyun #para #I cut it into two parts cause it got looong #drugs tw #alcohol tw

[apex-academy]

Chapter 5: Caring Is a Hazard to Your Health (#27)

We keep shuffling through the room, and I make sure to check behind the file cabinet with Mahavir’s help, but nothing new is turning up. That’s all right. Wasn’t really expecting anything. 

“So, we good?”

“Yeah, I think we’ve checked everything.”

“Thanks for tagging along.”

“No prob, brah.”

“...”

“Are we going to rejoin the others? I’d like to rest for a bit, but that still requires a group, so to speak.”

“I wouldn’t mind settling down for a while.”

“Like, I still got sports ‘n’ stuff to talk about?”

“I might stick with that side ‘f things.”

“Okay. Guess we’re moving the groups around after all. Think you can make it to the gym, Mahavir?”

“Yes.”

Awful lot of trouble, but off we go. Yuki and, surprisingly, Aidan end up joining our “group” to split up in the dorms. All very exciting.

“...”

Guess I’ll be spending a lot of time in here. It’s roomy, at least. The bath’s fine. Conditions could certainly be worse.

Aside from the killing game.

It’s fine. I can’t see everyone respecting the lockdown rules 24/7, but if the opportunities to kill are still harder to come by... we shouldn’t have much to worry about, right?

...

Yuki, Mahavir, and I have our last cooking lesson for a while, with Tsunyasha hanging around to round out the arrangement. I’d like to think I’m getting better at this, but...

Considering where I started, that may not mean much.

...

“Hello, students! It is now nighttime, so, um! Don’t try to go in the cafeteria or anything, and don’t sleep anywhere but the dormitories! I-I’ll see you in the morning…!”

...

“Um, hello! Good morning! It is now 7:00, so the off-limits areas have been reopened! And, um! You have three days left if you want to save your loved ones! Everyone do your best today…!”

Don’t appreciate the countdown to death there. But I guess it’s also our countdown to going back to normal. 

Well, whatever counts as normal in this place.

Kind of have to wonder what “normal” would even be for us without all of this happening. Considering the people in this class, I doubt it would be any closer to “ordinary”. I can only wonder who’s supposed to be in that resident director office. Are they used to managing crowds like this? I’m sure Apex Academy has turned out its fair share of eccentrics, but it’s hard to imagine this class isn’t full of top runners.

Anyway. I’d better get to breakfast.

I ready myself for the day and head out. Guess I put the speed on today, because I’m the first one in the hall. Then again, half of us are seriously injured, so maybe I shouldn’t be surprised.

I start for the main set of doors and reach for a handle. My usual amount of hesitation may be a boon today, because there’s a holler from behind before I can touch it.

“Hey, hey, hang on!!”

I pull back and turn around.

“Good morning to you, too?”

Aidan, still only halfway through his door, pants for a second before wheeling himself farther along.

“Er, yes, that, too, thank you.”

“Anyway, I believe I stated we would all gather before leaving the dorm area for breakfast, so if you don’t mind...”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

I step back just in time for more of us to start filtering in.

“Goooooood morning, everybody!”

“Good morning...”

“Everybody ready to have A Day?”

“Do we have a choice?”

Tsunyasha, when she comes, attempts to shoulder past me.

“Excuse me?”

“If you insist. Consider this a pardon.”

“...”

“What? Do you truly expect me to kowtow to some sinner’s demands?”

“Yes, we do.”

“Goodness.”

“The foolishness in this building is even worse than I had imagined.”

“As fair as that might be, do you mind staying back for one more minute?”

“We only have one more person to wait on.”

“The legless one, yes? I’ve no particular need to greet him.”

“Rude.”

A sudden ripping noise makes me turn around. Aside from Aidan guarding the door with his back to us—guess it’s easier than trying to wheel himself around the other way—nothing seems off.

“Is everything all right...?”

“I think so?”

“Yes, as far as I can tell. At any rate, we might as well keep up conversation.”

“Okay! Does anybody wanna play a game?”

“I spyyyyyy...”

“There’s nothing to spy except doors and each other.”

“Yup!”

Well, he’s sure not disappointed, somehow.

Before he can try to stir up a rousing game of I Spy regardless, Tsunyasha goes over to Kaichi’s door and knocks loudly.

“Fool! Are you yet slumbering?”

So she... is cooperating?

For now. I’m sure she’ll give it up soon enough.

“Let the dude sleep if he wants.”

“Not an option at the moment, I’m afraid. Even if Mister Riseiin will have to go off notes, he is needed at the meetings.”

“Are we discussing x-rays today?”

“My ankle is fine.”

“I doubt that’s the issue.”

“Er, no, I only mean that everyone needs to be present. We’ve gone over this, haven’t we?”

“Uh...”

“I think so!”

Just before Tsunyasha tries to rip the whole doorknob off, Kaichi’s door opens.

“ ‘s there a fire ‘r something, brah?”

“No, you’ve a while yet before you face the pits of Hell.”

“Sweet.”

“Are all of the notes on your door intact, Mister Riseiin?”

Kaichi ducks back to check.

“Looks like?”

“Good. Are we all ready to go, then?”

“Ummm-hummm...”

She heaves a sigh. “At long last, yes.”

The procession heads to the cafeteria, then halves for the kitchen. Apparently Kaichi and I are the guest chefs today, with Yuki and Mahavir at their normal stations. Better than everyone trying to cook in here at once.

And certainly better than trusting Tsunyasha and Ichiriki to make my food for me.

Eventually we settle down for the meeting. Still have a lot of cooking to do after we get through the agenda, though.

“...”

“...”

“Are we... starting the meeting at some point?”

Aidan looks up from his toast.

“Of course! Excuse me.”

He clears his throat.

“All right! Is everyone ready to get down to business?”

“I do wonder, do you even intend to ask anyone besides yourself for announcements this time?”

“If you have anything that goes against our current emergency plan, then no, I would prefer you not announce it or otherwise go through with it!”

“But if there’s anything else of importance, by all means, feel free to announce it!”

“Hmph. What a farce.”

“Kay, if we’re, like, done bashing on each other for no reason?”

“IT’S SPORTS DAY, BABY!″

“A whole day, huh.”

“That’s correct! We’ll begin in the gym, with the possibility of moving on to some other rooms depending on how long the event lasts!”

“You don’t know?”

“We’ll pretty much have the event until one or more of us need to leave, so it’s hard to be sure, yes.”

“Considering certain parties, I’d like to hope we’ll at least be able to start on those terms.”

“By ‘certain parties,’ you mean Tsunyasha, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Yo, Tsuntsun? If you screw this up for us, like, I will beat the crap outta you. Just sayin’.”

“No threats!!!”

“Oh? Don’t you wish you could do such a thing, whelp.”

“Dude, I don’t care what kinda assassin you are, you’re totally not invincible.”

“Like, with all the fancy holy stuff prolly at least mostly? But not totally.”

“How impious.”

“It would be nice if you cooperated, though...”

“We don’t have that many opportunities... to have fun like this, you know?”

“Hmph. I need not bend to your whims.”

“Do you want some dorayaki...?”

“...An exchange could be suitable.”

What a trump card.

“Okay! Once we’ve prepared all our food for the day, we’ll return to our rooms for a few minutes before the sports begin.”

“So we doing, like, Jap’nese school sports festival stuff ‘r what?”

“That would be, like, super fancy?!”

“A bit ambitious for our current situation, I’m afraid.”

“We’ll just have some games that should be manageable for those interested in participating.”

“And plenty of room for those who prefer to watch.”

“Oh, oh!!! Are you gonna do the color commententating?”

“No. He is not.”

“...”

“Aw...”

“But yeah, we got, like, a list of stuff to try and go through?”

“Should I read ‘em off, or should it be a surprise? Hmm...”

“Considering the high likelihood we won’t get through all of them, it may be less disappointing to keep it a surprise.”

“Tru.”

“Is there any setup beforehand?”

“Not really. At least, not for the first event. There may be some setup after that, but we’ll have time to work on it then without keeping everyone waiting.”

I was more concerned about a group going off ahead of time, but I guess that answers the question.

“Any more questions?”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“All right! We’ll have a good deal of time left in the meeting to get the rest of our meals prepared, so if there are any other concerns or announcements, feel free to bring them up anytime!”

“Until then, that’s all I have to say.”

I turn back to my breakfast.

Sports Day, huh? I have to wonder what most of us can do in our condition. But I guess it’s not a bad idea. Get some team spirit going, or something.

Better than sitting around alone thinking about that little sliver of a possibility Monochap’s going to follow through on his threat if no one dies.

“...”

Well, it won’t do me much good to think about it surrounded by people, either. Let’s just keep moving.

[BACK] [NEXT]

#apexplot #apex5 #fanganronpa #selfnote

[packsbeforesnacks]

Talk Too Much || Blanche & Winn

TIMING: Saturday, May 30th, 2020, Late Night LOCATION: Dell’s Tavern PARTIES: @harlowhaunted & @packsbeforesnacks SUMMARY: Winn comes clean. Blanche wants to drink. WARNINGS: Extremely brief mention of assisted-suicide-by-hunter.

Blanche was still irritated with the whole Winn situation, but if she were being truly honest with herself, she just didn’t have enough energy to be truly angry. No one had died, and at the end of the day, none of it mattered. It was a string of unfortunate events that were, for the most part, corrected by Winn coming back. If anything, the bigger headache was going to be with Ariana and Noah and any of his other possible-wolf friends that he left behind and not with her. She pulled into Dell’s parking lot, parked her Jeep and asked for a booth to settle in. Winn wanted to talk, and she didn’t know how responsive she’d be, but she would at least try to not lose her shit like she had with Theo before… She had just been browsing the cocktail menu she saw Winn. Leaning out of the booth, she waved. “Hey! Winn. Over here.” She gave him a strained smile. “I hope you know I’m getting the biggest burger there is.”

Winn could be honest: He was frustrated with the chain of events that had unfolded in his absence. Noah had clued him in, and the pack’s general sentiments had solidified that Noah hadn’t been in the minority. But, really, aside from Noah’s special case, Winn could handle the pack’s anger. It had been a stupid miscommunication, but it was his stupid miscommunication. He could fix it. What he couldn’t fix, what ate at him, was Blanche’s trust in him. Winn slid into the booth, across from Blanche, and smiled tentatively. “B, you could buy out Dell’s and I’d pay for every cocktail, every inch of grease to make you a burger of your dreams.” Winn sighed, rolling his neck. He needed to be drunk for this; he couldn’t possibly be drunk for this. “I slept through half the day, the entire pack doesn’t trust me, my father I guess lives with me now? But, Blanche, I’ll be honest. I don’t give a shit about any of that because I am so scared you hate me now. I know it’s selfish. But I—” Winn glanced down at his hands, hesitant to meet Blanche’s eyes. “If you don’t want to… be around me. I understand. That’s one answer I don’t have for you tonight. I don’t… I don’t know what happened, after you threw me. But,” Winn looked up, “I am going to find out. It will never happen again.”

Blanche opened her mouth to start talking, but Winn started in on the serious things before she could even start with some mild small talk. She faltered, unsure what to say for a moment as she rubbed the back of her neck with a low sigh. She supposed she was supposed to feel bad, but all things considered, her emotions were a little fried. “Winn, I wouldn’t have met you here if I didn’t want to be around you,” she said pointedly. “I like free food, but not that much. Come on.” Tucking a strand of pink hair behind her ear, she considered her next words carefully. “I heard the words ‘loss of control’ being thrown around a lot,” she said finally, with a shrug. She remembered, vaguely, Winn’s wolfish form coming at her with some sort of bloodthirsty look on his face. That was the only reason Blanche was able to differentiate the first attack from the second, though she was still a little peeved he hadn’t told her he couldn’t understand human words. Noah was right, they were both morons. “And no, it won’t happen again, because we’re not doing that again. You want to spar with me? I get to punch you in your big, dumb human face and hopefully no one will scare me so bad that my brain thinks I have to chuck you across a clearing and into a tree. Which— Sorry. Again. Truly. I didn’t mean to.” And even if they did that, it would preferably be around the New Moon. She frowned slightly, and ran a hand down her face. “I’m sorry that the pack is angry with you, too.”

Winn couldn’t help a small smile from forming on his face. Not quite dopey, but not subtle either. They could work through this. “Naw, B. I can take being thrown into a tree. Uh, or… Physically, anyway?” He laughed, weakly, as the server came over to take their orders. And, Jesus, was everyone in this town brutally attractive? The guy could be a Pine’s brother. Winn leaned on his hand, scratching at his chin. “Well, not… all of the pack? Just mostly. And I prolly deserve it. I should’ve left the note somewhere smarter. I should’ve replaced my phone before leaving town. I should’ve checked my account or my email to make sure weird shit wasn’t happenin’. It was… I don’t want to make excuses. But a lot of shit went down, and me freakin’ out and comin’ at you was not the weirdest — or worst — part of my week. And given that it was extremely bad… Anyway, I’ll get to that, but: You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry for, far as I’m concerned.” Winn scratched at the wood of the table, nervous. “But, uh— Sorry. I don’t mean to be a bummer, just didn’t want… I know shit’s not great, with you, so maybe this is a dumb question, but: How’re you checkin’ in?” He’d explained the concept to her before, a while back, but this was the first time it felt… right to use it, instead of just chattin’. This felt more… not formal, per se, but different. A boundary that he needed to respect.

“I’m trying to not make it a habit. Throwing people, I mean,” Blanche said, running a hand through her hair. The server came and went and she let out a low sigh as she settled back into the booth as she listened to Winn. They could go over should haves and could haves for hours, though she didn’t particularly want too. It was a waste of time, especially when they could easily move on from mistakes and do better. Especially when no one had died. Even the feud between herself and Adrien seemed so small in the wake of Bea’s death. Adrien and Blanche could hurl cruel words at each other all day, every day, but at least they were both still alive. At least they were there so they could do that. The thought made her want to call him, but she knew he still needed space from the explosion that happened with Regan. She looked at Winn and just gave him a shrug. “Things are shitty,” she said. Checking in was harder and harder — she just wanted to forget and be numb to it. She had told Adam that it was easier that way. “Possession sucked. I’ve been staying with Nell because I can’t stand feeling a ghost near me for too long. It’s been a thing.” She gave another shrug, not willing to go into it. “Are you going to tell me where you went that made your week so weird and shitty? And, uh, for the record, I’d also like to address the killswitch thing as well, if you don’t mind.”

Oh, right. Honesty. That pesky thing that Winn had committed to, with Blanche and Noah especially. “This is going to be… a long story,” Winn warned, hand around his water for when he inevitably needed to pause. “So, uh. You don’t know… a fuckton about my past. That’s… by design, or was.” He stopped himself. Okay, he could be less confusing. “I was born Winthrop Linton Zhou, don’t say a fuckin’ word, and grew up in Falls Church. My dad, Daniel Zhou, taught at Georgetown for years, and my mom is, uh, Congresswoman-then-Speaker-of-the-House? Elaine Delacour. We like Dad. We have… extremely mixed feelings on Mom, to say the least. I, um, went to college, went through some shit, got the Bite, and then a couple years later… killed a Hunter, in self-defense.” He sighed, remembering that both his dad and his former partner didn’t blame him, and they thought he’d been in the right — that Winn didn’t need to carry that guilt quite so heavily. “Shit got… weird, from there. I was in a pretty dark place. And, uh, I… actually don’t remember a lot. I’m pretty sure that I was a wolf for, like… a lot of the time for the next year. But then there’s a whole other year, and… Anyway, more on that later. I ended up in Europe in early 2018, took on Winn Woods as an assumed name, falsified some documents, and eventually applied to school here. Couldn’t tell you why, to be honest. I’m— uh, well, okay, so that answered exactly none of your questions, but I’m gonna pause here, ‘cause I can see you steamin’ like a tea kettle.”

Blanche sat there in silence for a long time, staring at Winn with a mixture of… Well, actually, she didn’t know. Disbelief? Not quite right. And she wasn’t sure she was angry either. Blanche didn’t come in swinging with her “#TRAGIQUE” backstory either because as much as they all liked to make fun of their personal shit it was still personal and there were things that hurt. Things that couldn’t be glossed over in a joke. If Winn didn’t want to discuss his background that was his prerogative. She sat there digesting the information. At some point, the waiter came and went with their drinks. Blanche had a water and a lemonade because she always wanted both and it was easier for a second to watch the little lemon slice floating at the top of her drink than think about the information that was just dumped onto her. Blanche took a big drink of water. And then a big drink of lemonade. …. And then a big drink of water. And then a big drink of lemonade. And then she rounded off with a - guess what - big drink of water. And then, she folded her hands in front of her, and looked at him. “... Asdmgph.” Oh, good going, Blanche. Real intelligent answer. Sure using that college experience to help you out there. So, she tried again. “.... Winthrop?” Oh, that was an easy one to start with. “You have a problem with me calling you Winnifred when your name is Winthrop?”

Admittedly, Winn thought this conversation was going to go worse than it had. He expected anger, or yelling. But no. Blanche just stared at him, well, blankly. And drank a truly gargantuan amount of liquid, taking in water, and lemonade, like a fish in Georgia. And then short-circuiting, like a fish in Georgia when you dropped a toaster in the water. Okay, jokes. Winn could do jokes. Blanche and his entire relationship was built on a cornerstone of gentle ribbing, because both of them were ridiculous. That said, “I said don’t say a fuckin’ word about the Winthrop thing. I haven’t gone by that since I was, like, five.” Winn remembered cryin’ on the first day of kindergarten to his dad, beggin’ him to not make him go by Winthrop ‘cause all the other kids had such cool names, and they thought he was gonna be mean ‘cause his name sounded like an oil baron. (Granted, it was his grandfather’s, so… not far off.) “And I didn’t say I had a problem with you callin’ me Winnifred, I just thought it was lazy, Blanche.” He pointedly didn’t make a joke of Blanche’s name, needing her to realize this conversation was still, like, fairly serious. “Uh, also my dad’s a fox?” he tried, eager to move on from his name or what had led him to White Crest. “Like, um, not a literal. Like, a supernatural fox? Huxian-called-by-the-Japanese-kitsune kinda fox? He has tails. It’s kinda rad.” Winn, no.

“Okay, Winthrop,” Blanche answered immediately, grimacing slightly. Apparently, she had two settings at this moment, and one was watering herself like a plant and the other was, well, being a dick. “Sorry.” Blanche frowned slightly  at the mention of his dad being a … fox. Furry genes. She had to swallow the word whole, before her eyes widened as she looked up at Winn in horror. “I’m turning into Adam,” she groaned quietly, running her hands down her face as she leaned over the table. God. Okay. Reroute, Blanche. Be serious a moment. She took a few deep breaths, and then looked back at him. “Huxian?” Blanche repeated. “Fox. Right. Okay. Cool cool cool cool cool cool. Cool. That’s cool. Like a werefox? … Don’t answer that.” Blanche shook her head. “Keep going. I’m assuming there’s more?”

“Um,” Winn started, and then stopped. “I— Yes. There is. So, I should… backtrack a little. My week itself was, like, fine. It was… getting back, that made it weird and shitty. Noah was mad. I think we’re okay, but he was mad. Everyone thought I abandoned them, ran away, or, shit, was dead. I’m… I don’t have a right to be mad about it, but I am, a little bit, and it’s not your fault, ‘cause I didn’t know and I should have been clearer and I— I’m doing it again.” He took a deep breath. “Adam is my killswitch. Which means, like, if I ever… hurt someone, during the Full Moon, then I trust him to make it painless when he takes me out. I don’t— The pack would try to protect me, but that’s not who I am, not who I want to be. I became a werewolf by choice, but I won’t become a killer. Accidents happen, I get that, and I don’t— I’d protect any of them who did something, but, for me, I just… If Adam didn’t do it, the guilt would kill me. I— Um, I know I said I’d answer questions about that, but, I’ll be honest, I really don’t want to talk about it. It won’t happen. If it does, you can’t stop me.” His voice had gone hard, taken on an uncharacteristically cold tone, almost emotionless. “Blanche, I really need you to bear with me here.” It was his first time saying it aloud, first time admitting to, well… admitting to the truth. What was probably the truth. “I don’t have all of my memories.”

#wickedswriting #para #Blanche #Talk Too Much #Sunshine Riptide #suicide tw